Inheritance

Chapter seven: Training

Ian opened his eyes and gazed into total darkness. There was nothing to see because it was impossible for him to see in the complete darkness that surrounded him. He tried to sit up, but he found himself strapped to the ground that he was lying on. Or table, or whatever. It was dark, and he couldn't see was all that he knew.

"When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back"

Ian started away from the voice that felt like it whispered right next to his ear. At the same time that the voice finished its deep moment, a single candle lit the room. As Ian's eyes adjusted to the room, he saw three things.

1. He was strapped to the floor, with what looked to be leather straps and the floor that seemed to be made out of stone bricks.

2. The guy who seemed to be right next to his right ear was actually about 3 feet away from his head and was wearing a hood in such a way that his face was not visible with only the candle that was lit. His voice, (assuming that the person was male) sounded familiar, like someone that he had known all his life, but at the same time sound completely foreign to him. He tried to look at the guy, to get a closer look, the chanting guy was put at such an angle that looking at him was just uncomfortable enough that he could only do it for a couple of seconds.

3. Um... That's it. It was dark, he couldn't see. Done. Move on

He had almost come to terms with the fact that all this was happening, but then another candle was lit, revealing another hooded figure. The Same robe, with the same general design. This guy was the same, literally the same. While the other robed man went on about the staring abyss...

"It's Nietzsche, you dumbass"

Ian decided to ignore the old man. It was him who got him in this situation in the first place, and he didn't feel like talking to the condescending asshole right now. It wouldn't exactly help him at the moment.

While he was thinking about the old dude, the second robed dude went on:

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. I must not fear. Fear..."

You get the idea.

Stuff started getting freaky for Ian when the first robed figure took up the chant about fear as well. It suddenly took on a cultish turn when the chanting in unison. Well, it had always had a culty feel, with the robes and the candles and the chanting things in general. The point was that it was getting even cultier, and Ian wanted none of that.

More candles were being lit, revealing more people in hoods, chant along with the first and second hooded man. Fear is the mind killer, fear is the little death, on and on and on.

Ian was just getting used to this when he saw that the first hooded person began to remove his hood. Either it was happening in slow motion, (he was ready to accept anything at this point) or he was doing it slow on purpose to annoy/awe him. Either way, he was about to be sacrificed. You don't just get tied up in the middle of a circle of hooded chanted men and not get sacrificed, it's just one of those things that has to happen in these situations. Plus the whole super sacred looking knife thing was also a give-away.

With one hand the hooded man was taking off the hood, (yes, still). The other hand was, just as slowly, pulling out what appeared to be a knife. The knife had a silver handle and a gold blade, or at least it looked gold from where Ian was. Candlelight was hard.

As the figure approached, the hood was still being taken off, making it the slowest removal of clothing in the history of fabric. Suddenly the chanting stopped, the candles went out and a bright light from the roof filled the room, making his eyes hurt for the second time.

Ian looked around and saw that he was in a white room, like those that are in most mental asylums. The room was circular, and there were the people in hoods sitting all around in like a circle, each on their tiny stone pedestal. The only weird thing was that the walls looked to be padded, but the floor was made out of stone bricks, like some sort of medieval castle, making the whole setup pretty pointless, in my opinion.

Ian looked up and saw that the person who was sitting where is head was pointed was up and standing right at his head. He was still taking the hood off, and that was starting to piss Ian off. But he got even more pissed when he finally took the hood off and revealed himself.

In the most cliche thing since The notebook, the hooded man was Ian and Ian was the hooded man. They were both the same person, at least in appearance.

This was bad.

But what happened next was even more cliche. This "training" place just wanted to break all the cliches apparently.

The straps came loose and released Ian. He got up, dusted his pants off, and looked around. The rest of the hooded people just sat there, then began to take their hood off just as slowly, as the first guy.

"Can you guys just get on with it!?"

Everyone in the room looked at Ian. Then, miraculously, they all began to actually, just revealed themselves to be also clones of him. Everyone in the room was the same person. Maybe someone else would have seen this coming, but Ian sure didn't.

"So, are you ready to listen to me now or what"

A/N: Hey, I'm not dead! It's been a while, almost a month. I apologize. Senior year has started, and the teachers think that giving homework, on top of quizzes, on top of projects is a fun way to get started. But that's no excuse! So, I'm going to try my best to publish a chapter every three days. So expect another chapter by Saturday. Remember to vote and follow to get updates as soon as possible. Thanks, guys!

This chapter is dedicated to my friend Ex_Nihilo, because he's writing a story about the four of us, coming soon to wattpad. Not trying to advertise for him , just if you want to read about me personally, then you should check it out!