Armageddon: The Broken Man - ACT 1

Chapter 7 - Slave of the Mind

Chapter 7 - Slave of the Mind

>K

I couldn't move without ripping open the cuts on my back. I had bled enough to make my head spin, and I was certain that I would scar; I would scar horribly, and those marks wouldn't fade for years, if ever.

I had failed her. I got scared and abandoned my body, leaving Chaos to clean up my mess. She punished me, and I deserved it; I deserved much more than what she was willing to give.

"K, get up." She spat, thundering over the creaking of the doors above. Light flooded the chamber, burning my eyes and stealing their sight. "We're leaving."

I tried to get up; I really did. My legs were weak, and my own blood slicked the floor, making it impossible to grip.

The ice of her hands pierced the thin layer of warmth I've managed to create over the past few hours. She barked an order to stand, but all I could do was slip again and again, shaking and whimpering.

"I-I'm so sorry." I shuddered, whimpering and trying not to cry; I felt far too pathetic to hold any shame. "I'm not t-trying to slip, but-"

"It's fine, just relax." She sighed, lifting me up by the arm. She brushed me off, but I couldn't even look at her. "If you can't even stand, then I guess I'll have to fix you up."

"No, don't." I shook my head, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. "I disappointed you. I deserve the pain, no matter how badly it hurts."

"You don't get it, K." Her sharp tone forced my gaze upwards, to look her in the eyes. "Rendan wants to show his Kreiger set's queen. You need to be able to move, and it's also pretty hard to show off a lady with fresh cuts all over her back."

Her eyes, just like quicksilver, command my full attention. Her heated stare lasts until I answer.

"I understand."

Ice and fire danced across my limbs, freezing my nerves and burning away the pain. The cold and heat stole away my breath yet again, leaving me empty and numb. When the sensations faded, my breath returned, and the throbbing pain had gone. I could finally stand, but I was still under the guillotine; my punishment had just been tabled to a later date, I knew.

I didn't need clairvoyance to see it coming.

I was expected to talk amongst the citizens of the Walls. They were supposedly all nobles, and so expected the best from my self-presentation. I had to act brave and loyal towards Rendan alone, and express my desire to serve him until my dying breath.

I have always been, and always will be, the Marionette. I thought that maybe, just maybe, running away with Chaos would change that, but it didn't. I'm the showpiece, the pretty little doll, and that will never change. I used to hope, whether or not I was willing to admit it, that Willow had complete control over all of the prophecy's different roles, and that she could change who fulfilled them.

I was someone, once. In days long since past, I could stand for myself. I was brave and valiant; never once did I let anyone push me around or stifle my words.

That was a long time ago.

As of today, I'm officially rebranding myself as a coward. I'm afraid of my own shadow, and of things that may never happen. I'm scared to death of silence, and I can't bring myself to think of what would happen to me, should I speak out against my protector. Chaos is all I've got right now, and she's the only person on my side.

Everyone else thinks that if they hide me from the Oracle, she'll send her Mercenary to kill them in the most brutal way possible.

Not many can remember the Wall Battalion. Only the members of an active set can, and that's very few, if any at all. The rest of them are left unawares to the monstrosities the Chiaroscuro pair committed, especially Cadmus.

Willow didn't seem to realize what she was doing, but Chaos says that it was all an act. She says that Willow set it up so that if her plan failed, she could play it off as being put under some kind of curse. It makes sense, but I really don't think that Willow would do anything like that, even under the effects of a curse.

"K, snap out of it." Chaos barks, pulling the corset even tighter. "You need to focus. Rendan doesn't want a brain-dead representative."

"Y-Yes ma'am."

Rendan doesn't realize the true meaning of his emblems. Red signifies war for most ancestral roots, and dragons, especially albino dragons, are generally regarded as a branding of a mindless killer.

So here I stand, as the centerpiece of the gala, cloaked in a robe signifying the imminent approach of war. I'm their pinnacle of perfection, the Marianne to this revolution.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Marionette, the high queen of the board."

The applause is deafening. The pounding in my head matches with the mindless applause. Rendan's guests stare at me in awe, swooning and crooning over what they insist is perfect beauty.

It's sickening how quickly their affections grow. Not even 5 minutes into the gala, the youngest noble present — a prince by the name of Luca — had approached me and announced that his intentions were all but dishonorable. He was, simply put, highly appealing to the eye, but not nearly as well off as far as intellect went.

I'll cut the crap; he was an idiot, and nothing more.

Chaos kept urging me to laugh at his stupid jokes, and play along with his conversation. She couldn't fathom why I wasn't head over heels for him.

I can't stand living like this. I should've just waited for Willow to regenerate and find me. She would've understood, and any punishment she could've given me would be so much better than this.

Chaos is the very embodiment of what I was trying to escape.