The Primordials: Death's Fury (Book One)

Chapter XIX: Purgatory

Tymon found himself in a brightly lit room. The room's walls were padded and lined with manufactured rupture prisms that drained energy from the constant lights.

Strapped to an inclined metal operation table in the center of the room was a muscular old man with long gray hair and a short fuzzy beard.

Tymon recognized that the old man was himself.

His clothes were tattered, his skin was cut and scabbed, and he wore suppression cuffs around his wrists. Their glowing green LED light showed they were actively suppressing Tymon's energy.

Tymon's consciousness flowed into his previous self's body, where he began to experience the memory from his point of view.

The door to the room opened as Avarice and Verin walked in.

"Morning, Tymon," Avarice said as he overlooked data on his tablet. "Yesterday, you gave us some interesting results. Mind if we run some more tests today?"

Tymon struggled against the thick cindium bars that restrained him.

"Let me go! What more do you want from me?! Why are you doing this?" Tymon yelled in rebellion.

"You have something I want," Avarice replied calmly while still scrolling through data. "But, before I take it, I need to know what your body's capable of. What are your limits? How much can you withstand? That information is vital to my plans, you see."

Avarice looked Tymon in the eye.

"Won't you help a fellow Primordial achieve his dreams?"

"You're insane," Tymon replied angrily. "This is how you treat a fellow Primordial? Hide your presence, ambush them, then lock them in a creepy room for your experiments?!"

"Our experiments," Verin corrected.

"Would you have willingly subjected yourself to this," Avarice asked.

"Would you?" Tymon replied.

"No, but I have the power to prevent such a thing from happening," Avarice retorted condescendingly. "You, however...."

Suddenly the scalpel on the tray of cindium-made tools next to him was stabbed in Tymon's left hand.

Tymon gritted his teeth to keep from screaming.

Verin grabbed Tymon's face as she leaned in close and twisted the scalpel deeper through his hand.

"It's been nearly a week, and you still ignore me. It makes me feel neglected," she said, feigning insecurity.

Suddenly her expression changed. In her eyes, Tymon saw a sadistic hunger for pain and cruelty.

"So, from here on out, I'll handle your experiments personally. Seeing the spirit in your eyes fade as I break you will be so satisfying."

The two left momentarily after that before returning with more tools necessary to draw blood.

"From now on, we'll draw your blood every morning while it's clean," Avarice announced.

"Can't have it being contaminated, now can we," Verin said playfully.

After getting everything together, Verin gripped Tymon's arm tightly. She showed him the long razor-sharp needle attached to a tube she was about to stick into both arms. When she squeezed the end of the tube, the needle opened outward, revealing five needles that were closed together.

"This'll hurt even worse if you try to heal yourself," she told him. Her words were callous, but she smiled as if she hoped Tymon would try to.

While inside his veins, Tymon felt sharp pings of pain as the needles spread outward. The tips of the needles ejected with so much force that they painfully protruded from the surface of his skin.