Legends of Amacia Heart of Darkness

The darkness lightened for Hannibal as a moan escaped his lips. His head throbbed painfully and his face stung in the dark. A few moments later, the darkness fled and Hannibal snapped awake...finding himself in some kind of high-tech interrogation chamber. The bright lights hurt his eyes initially, making him squint and amplifying his headache. Within seconds, he realized he sat confined to a strange metal chair attached to the floor in the center of the room. His arms lay immobilized on the arms of the chair with heavy metal restraints. A large metal band encircled his chest, pinning him to the back of the chair while thick bands held his both legs in check at the thigh level and at the ankle level. Another leather band wrapped around his neck and strange elastic band sat on his brow, both bands connected to the back of the chair holding his head stationary. Just as quickly, Hannibal noticed someone had stripped him nude. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. “This can’t be good. Where the hell am I?”

At first, no one answered him. All he saw was lights in the ceiling, mirrored walls, and a metal floor. The room appeared to have no exit. As he focused on the floor in front of him, Hannibal saw dried blood stains on the metal floor. He paled and became slightly nauseous when he saw it. Memories of his near-death encounter with the Old Ones in the haunted house cellar when he was thirteen exploded into his conscious mind, making him shudder. Then the thought of the Emperor torturing him to death instantly came to mind, causing icy chills to race down his spine.

In the same moment, Hannibal felt an incredible darkness overshadow his mind and soul. The sound of a moving panel attracted his attention and he looked in the mirror, seeing a mirrored panel behind him open. The Emperor strode through with a wicked sneer on his face. “I see you’re finally awake,” the Emperor crowed sadistically. He walked around the chair and stood in front of Hannibal, looking down with the fires of Hell in his eyes. “I hope you’re comfortable,” he chided sarcastically.

“Oh, yes, this chair is quite comfortable,” Hannibal retorted just as sarcastically. “I’ve got one just like it at home. It’s quite nice.”

The Emperor slapped Hannibal brutally in the face, bloodying his nose slightly. “You still don’t know your place,” the Emperor snarled. “I’ll soon remedy that.”

Hannibal groaned at the hit and then countered, “Not likely, Black Prince. I can already see my death in your eyes, so let’s cut the bullshit here. What’s your fucking game and where’s Selina?”

The Emperor smashed his clenched fist into Hannibal’s midsection just below the metal band on his chest, winding him. “You dare to command me? This is no game, insect. I’m your death,” the Emperor declared icily, “...and the death of every living thing that doesn’t bow to me, including your precious cat should she refuse my will. You’re not going to stop me like you did the last time, but I can’t just kill you. That would be far too easy, and would make a martyr out of you. I can’t have that.”

“What do...you...mean, ‘the...last...time’?” Hannibal wheezed from the hit, honestly not knowing what the Emperor was talking about.

The Emperor grabbed Hannibal roughly by the throat and squeezed, throttling him. “Don’t you play dumb with me, Beowulf!” the Emperor shouted furiously. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Twelve and a half thousand cycles ago, you thwarted my ascension to power when you, the Elder Gods, and those goddamned drakens broke my lines at the battle of Drakonia and stalemated FATE! You tipped the balance of power against me and cost me dearly that day. I lost five hundred fifty cycles because of that setback. I’m not going to have you interfering like that again, you pestilent little human shit!”

Hannibal turned blue and gurgled in response until the Emperor let go of him. Gasping for breath, Hannibal’s face became perplexed. “What...are you...talking about?” he gasped. “It couldn’t have been me! You’ve mistaken me with someone else! I don’t even know where this Drakonia is, much less been able to supposedly time travel back to the blackest day in human history to stop you, Black Prince. You know damn well we have no such technology on the surface and never have.”

Hannibal’s response intrigued the Emperor. “You really don’t remember it, do you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow while leaning down to look Hannibal in the eye.“How can I remember something that I didn’t do?” Hannibal countered hotly, honestly not remembering what the Emperor accused him of doing.

“Oh, you did it all right,” the Emperor hissed icily. “I never forget the face of my enemy. You were there all right, but somehow don’t seem to remember it. Interesting, but it makes no difference now. You’re mine and with you out of the way, the Caverias line dies forever leaving no one to stop my great cause.”

“Then why not just kill me and be done with it?” Hannibal blurted out. “I know you want to.”

“Because I don’t want a martyr, you fucking idiot,” the Emperor growled, smacking Hannibal viciously with the palm of his hand. “Like you said, those rebellious insects you’ve been assisting know I’ve captured you by now. If I just kill you and display your head, it’ll galvanize their resistance. I can’t have that. What I mean to do is to break you completely, Beowulf…break your mind, spirit, and body while they watch. I’ll make you a gazing stock so these vermin will know it’s pointless to resist me. They’ll see you completely broken before my power and then watch as I utterly destroy their savior before their eyes. You’ll not interfere with me ever again.”

An icy chill raced down Hannibal’s spine at the threat. “And how do you propose to do that?” Hannibal hissed venomously. “You know you can’t break me with plain torture. I was a master of torture when I worked for your infernal cohorts on the surface. I know well the ways of deception, pain, and terror. Your boys taught me well in that respect, you infernal prick.”

The Emperor smiled wickedly. “That’s why I have something truly special in mind for you,” he crowed. “You’ll face tortures no human male has ever faced. I’ll slowly rip your power from your mind, body, and spirit in ways you can’t comprehend. You’ll suffer like no man has ever suffered in the history of your pathetic pestilent species. And when I’m done violating and ravaging your mind and spirit, I’ll parade you in front of those insects that resist me and kill you slowly and painfully after you’ve bowed before me and declared me to be God in the flesh. You’re going to beg for the mercy of death and oblivion before I’m done with you. I promise you. You’re mine...FOREVER!”

Hannibal’s face hardened as his rage blossomed. “No matter what you do to me, I’ll never bow and declare you to be God,” he snarled, being slow and very deliberate with his words. “I don’t know what your twisted sadistic game is, but it won’t work. I’ll not be swayed and you’ll be forced to kill me before I break. The Lord will protect me from whatever pain and horror you have in mind for me.”

“Your impotent idiot God will not protect you from me, insect,” the Emperor snapped. “This is my domain, not His. I’ll defile and destroy you utterly and there’s not a thing He can do about it.”

“Okay then,” Hannibal returned icily. “Have at it, you demon prick. Let’s see who’s stronger: you or the Lord. Just so you know…my money is on my God. There’s nothing you can do to me that He doesn’t allow for my greater good, so come on, you stupid demon shit…let’s get it on!”

“Very well, you rebellious maggot,” the Emperor replied frigidly. “You’ve sealed your fate.” The Emperor hammered Hannibal on the crown of the head with his fist, knocking him unconscious and giving him a concussion. “Engage the Avatar apparatus, my pet! Let him feel what it’s like to be trapped in a cross-gendered nightmare he can’t escape from,” the Emperor ordered maliciously, stepping back from the chair.

Panels on the metal floor around the chair opened up. In seconds, an apparatus rose from the floor around the chair and completely encased Hannibal in an eight-foot tall cube of machinery covered with strange conduits and lights. A feminine, yet mechanical voice called out from the cube, “Which clone avatar do you wish to use, my Lord Emperor?”

“Lock his mind inside clone 358, my pet,” the Emperor ordered icily, “...and put them in Mirror Cell 28 with the devices ready for use. He’ll know what it’s like to be the sacrifice now.”

“Yes, my Lord Emperor,” the machine replied. “The transference is taking place now. 358 will be in Mirror Cell 28 by time you get there with Beowulf’s mind linked to it.”

“Excellent,” the Emperor stated. “Beowulf will wish his God never made him by time I’m done with him. He’ll beg for the mercy of death as I make his deepest nightmares come true before his eyes and beat him to death with them; and when he begs for death, I’ll not let him die, but ravage his very soul until nothing is left. Then he will know who the real God is, and that’s me.” With that, the Emperor left the interrogation cell, heading for Mirror Cell 28.