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This place is getting on my nerves.
Scar paced the floor, staring at the metallic solitude of the will in front of him as his thoughts engulfed him.
I have been trapped in this prison of a room for eight years now, and there is no hope of escape. They abused me, starved me, forced convoluted thoughts into my head as if I was some kind of lab rat.
Scar stopped, turned, and kicked the steel-hard wall at his right. A shocking pain ran up his leg, and without caring, he continued pacing at a limp.
My time in this place made me even hungrier for something more... I just need to get out of here, clear my head from the monster out thoughts they have forced into me.
As Scar slumped into his rock hard bed, he lifted his arms to the ceiling and stared at the white gloves on his hands. If it weren't for these stupid gloves, I would be out of here...
Scar remembered his companion, and longed to summon him. Even though times were unfavorable the last time they faced each other, he just wished he could hear that howl one last time. His wolf, Aisan, was just like every creature necromancers could summon. But he was different, just like Scar. Aisan had goodness in his heart because he was the alpha of the Light World Wolf pack.
Scar could use his counsel during a time like this; always warmed his heart unlike anything in the world. Aisan was the one who taught Scar everything he could about the Light World's principles. Each and every taste of lightness satisfied Scar for ages, but now that Aisan is gone...Scar feels so empty.
Just last month, the guards caught him summoning Aisan. The alpha was just about to teach Scar more about life in the streets of the Light World when a werewolf guard came in with his dinner. Shocked, Scar quickly forced Aisan back to the glowball in the palm of his hand. The werewolf caught Scar by the arm and drugged him. Before he was out, he felt a pair of gloves slide on him. Scar tried to resist, but...failed.
At that moment, it felt as if all power was reduced from him. Scar lost touch with the summoning link, and he was empty...just a corpse of a body without a soul.
From that time on, the lessons of darkness were harsher than ever. The drugs were stronger, and it was harder and harder for Scar to resist. The only freedom he had was when he was thrown back into the isolation of this room.
By the time lessons ended, the drug wore off and he was free. Scar immediately ran to his desk and refreshed himself with the lessons Aisan taught him before he disappeared. With the lessons of the Light World filling his heart, his thoughts immediately turned back to planning for his unforeseen freedom.
The opportunity seemed more unattainable each day. With each meal came his possibly fruitful attempt for escape. Violence, bribery, escaping through open doors...those were the three tactics Scar attempted over and over with no success. Now, the guards learned to close the door quickly and restrain him when they entered to deliver his meals. Scar always tried to resist, but each movement from his part brought more pain from the restraints.
The one thing that brings him peace is hope...the hope for freedom and revenge.
Click
Jolted from his thoughts, Scar stared at the door as it slowly opened. Meal time has come at last...
Wait...do I know you?
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YOU ARE READING
The Unforeseen Martyr
Fantasía--- Will be updated weekly on Sundays! --- Scar was born into the realm of necromancers, villainous sorcerers who have been fated to bring about the destruction of the Light World. However, Scar is not like any other necromancers-he possesses the gi...
