Fate and the story of blood

Chapter 7: Spilled red on white tiles

"My wrists hurt... Why's it so dark in here? Ah, that explains it, I'm still in jail. Those fucking guards, taking those hooligan elves's testimony and letting them scot-free... There's no good fucking elves in this world..." He cried as tears came down from his eye sockets down his cheeks and chin then down onto the cold solid floor.

It was freezing, the unkept rooms along with metal that's cold to the touch down there... The place had a horrible stench, like that of rotten food dumped into a landfill as the vermin feasted upon the barely edible leftovers. The place where he sat at was dark, dark to the point where the other sense he'd have to rely on was the sounds of dripping water. The only light that could be seen was the occasional swings of the doors of when the guards would come down to interrogate the prisoners. Though it was all a ploy as the interrogation for them was torture in the form of the swings of a whip. The unique tool that inflicts an insurmountable amount of pain was named the Cat O' Nine Tail for its iconic nine whips into one singular tool. Each hit sent the victim shards of pain across their body and each he was hit with the inhumane weapon, he shrieked in pain.

The whip that left streaks of red across the wounded bear's skin was said to bring people into shock just after three times it was administered, yet the elven guard who was on duty didn't stop at his relentless hits. Only after half an hour later after he had gotten bored was only then he left the underground prison. Though it brought him to the brink of tears and his fury grew higher, he tried to keep his cool in the matter.

"Hehehe, why don't you just use me this time? It's quite easy, isn't it? Just like the time when you ripped those elves who mocked you a century ago..." A voice said in his head.

"I can't... The only one I need to find was the one that caused the burning of my village... I already know where he resides, I'm this close to putting an end to all of this..." He said to the voice, himself knowing very well he sounded insane talking to said the voice.

It appeared before him in the past, the hazy black sphere that approached me for its power... It was the sole thing that kept the boy living til this day, assisting when it needs it and hiding in the shadows when it doesn't. Whenever Malsin felt the innate anger, he would hear the voice again. And it always craves his aggression, the act of letting the pent-up inner feelings out to kill and slaughter.

Suddenly for whatever reason, he then recalled a conversation he had with the voice in his mind. It was only a month after he had acquired the shared powers of the voice. He was foraging through the wilderness for berries and food, then out of the blue the boy asked...

"Hey, mister voice, are you there?" He said to himself, as he scurried over to a raspberry-filled bush.

"Of course little boy, I'm always here~" He replied, a sly-sounding voice replied in his mind, yet the naive child didn't know of it at the time.

"What exactly are you? You're a voice right, but when I first found you, you were just an orb of the sort when you approached me right? Then can I ask what are you then?" He said, picking the sweet berries out of the sour ones and then stuffing them into his mouth.

"What am I? I can't really tell you what I actually am... but you can address me as... an evil god..." He told him, a faint giggle coming from the end of his voice...

...

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I awoke in a cold sweat and as I turned to my left, I found that the dark elf with us still hadn't come back since yesterday. I then turned slightly and looked at the window of the room to see it was a little after dawn. Placing my feet down on the wooden floorboards and heading it, I looked down from the slightly cloudy windows and saw multiple elves bringing their daily goods to the morning market; each of them hurrying to stock their stores with fresh goods.