Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140217201750/@comment-3293219-20140306185957

Revelation
Lott awoke, in his cell, his eyes still sore from where he cried himself the sleep, the night before.

The altmer took two steps from his bed, his feet trailed along the floor as he was barely able to stand, let alone walk. He was barely eating enough to survive as his only meal was a minute portion, that his body often rejected, causing him to gag as he put it down and leave it and he wasn’t regaining the strength that he lost during his daily torture.

Lott felt as if he was right, he was going to die here… Hopefully soon, in his sleep, he’d pass away from the exhaustion and they’d dump his body into the mass, unmarked grave with the rest of the patients.

The altmer’s trail of thought was broken as his neighbour began to scream, in his sleep, causing Lott to jump out of his skin. He sat still, not thinking, feeling or reacting, until it ended and died down, allowing him to think again.

''What must that poor soul have been through? What must he be going through now?''

Lott’s heart was getting heavy as he found himself worrying about other people again. He no longer thought about his own fait… it was sealed, why worry about things that you can’t change?

But the others… the others still had a chance…

He was snapped into reality, by the sound of black boots pounding the stone corridor, outside of his cell as two orderlies arrived to knock some sense into his screaming neighbour. One of them stopped, outside of Lott’s cell, turning his back to the altmer and placing his hands behind his back, looking very official as his partner went into the cell and the beating commenced.

“This is your chance!” Ganlas cried, appearing from nowhere, “Quick, you can take him, through the bars!”

Lott turned with a worried look on his face. He wasn’t a killer, he couldn’t hurt a living thing if he wanted to, if his emotions didn’t overpower him, his lack of unarmed combat expertise surely will.

“I… can’t!” Lott whispered, he began to shake at the thought of callously killing a man, it really disturbed him…

“You can!” Ganlas countered, “You know how! Remember?”

“I…” Lott was about to say that he didn’t… but he did. Or at least, he felt like he could do it, if he wanted to…

Were these memories, from the man he was before?

As Lott dwelled on Ganlas’ words, his ears began to buzz and his head hurt, little pieces of information came flooding into his mind at an intense speed that caused everything to spin. He stumbled and fell into the wall, grabbing hold of a jagged rock, to support himself as the hours of brutal training exercises were brought back to him, the mind wipes he had received after Elsinian’s sessions were beginning to reverse. The horrible things he had done, during those sessions, in his ‘zombiefied’ state.

The Altmer was brought back to the world, by the screams, that echoed, throughout the asylum.

“Look at how much suffering he’s inflicting onto others!” Ganlas pointed out, “you must end it!”

Lott nodded with a determined frown. The, formerly, peaceful scholar stepped forward, his hands at the ready. He crept up on the unsuspecting guard, making sure that he was unheard. The Altmer was barefoot, so be he barely made a sound as he crept upon his…

Victim…

Lott placed his hands on the guard’s ears, wrapping his fingers around the man’s forehead and chin. From there, instinct took over, all Lott heard was a ‘crunch’ and the light of the man’s existence had been extinguished.

The Altmer gasped and stepped away as the guard’s corpse fell to the floor. He stammered as he raised his hands and looked down at them in shock, as if they were covered in blood. Lott’s stomach tightened as he was overcome by guilt.

“What…

What am I?

Ganlas?

What am I?”

“We need to get his things!” Ganlas cried, realising that it was a miracle that the other guard hadn’t heard it, over the sound of the beatings, going on next door.

Lott slowly looked up as his eyes began to glow and tear up. His friend was right, he couldn’t let this man’s death be for nothing, even if he didn’t die for a cause that he believed in, at least he’ll die for Lott’s freedom.

He stepped forward, his determination renewed as he, quickly, found the desire to leave this place and it grew stronger with every step.

Lott shambled out of his cell, grabbing at the wall, to keep himself standing.

“You can do this, you must…” Ganlas coaxed, clapping his hands together, to keep Lott awake and present.

Lott sighed as he looked up, seeing that the guard had left the poor soul’s cell. The Altmer felt like kicking himself, realising that he hadn’t noticed the screams dying down as a sign that the guard was done. The orderly, in his unique, leather, riot gear that bears the insignia of Elsinian’s institution.

The guard only saw Lott for a split second before the Altmer struck him down, with a powerful lightning bolt. The guard was sent, flying across the corridor and hovered over the ground for several seconds before crashing down and rolling along the floor, until he stopped dead at the wall.

Lott swallowed the guilt, it was bitter but at least it wasn’t in his mouth anymore.

He marched down the corridor, charging up a spell in each hand. The Altmer didn’t know where the exit was, he remembered little of his last escape from this God Forsaken place.

He stumbled out of the ‘curiosities’ wing and got ready to take on the next wave of goons. The corridor was like a dungeon, the stone in the walls were, mostly, jagged. It was almost as if the asylum was naturally formed, like a cave or a fort. Lott passed hundreds of cells, trying not to look any of the prisoners in the eye.

He couldn’t save them… any of them…

He was thankful for the sleeping prisoners, or at least he hoped that they were ‘sleeping.’

“C’mon!” Ganlas cried, rushing ahead at the sight of the door, up ahead.

Lott, quickly, rushed over to join him. His bare feet were aching as they had been cut to ribbons by the sharp stones that the floor, mostly, consisted of.

Ganlas stepped back, giving Lott a quick smile.

“Don’t give up, we’re so close to freedom!”

Lott heard what he had said but he didn’t acknowledge it, he was too hung up on the door ahead. Perhaps it was the recent developments in Lott’s recovery but Lott no longer desired to leave this place…

The Altmer wanted to find Elsinian and demand answers from him…

Maybe he’d kill him and end his evil forever.

Lott had already decided, the truth and eternal safety were more important than temporary freedom that would be granted, by escaping now. He charged the spells in his hands and stepped into the next room, the Altmer, immediately, gasped, seeing it for the first time.

One of many of Elsianian’s torture chambers, complete with several, ghastly, bloodstained, rusty tools. The room, like most other rooms in the asylum was stone but the stone there was red, from all of the dried on blood. The sight of it made Lott feel sick but he wouldn’t give Elsinian the satisfaction of acting like a human being, by gagging or throwing up. He took a few steps forward, the blood stuck inside his nostrils, disgusting him and chilling him to the bone.

He swallowed, hard, feeling the mouth full of vomit scrape the inside of his, the gravelly feeling of it made him feel terrible and he knew that he was just delaying it but his pride was at stake. He stepped forward, brought to a weak shuffle by his recent overhaul and the bitter taste in his mouth, stomach and soul.

As Lott reached the door, to the next room, more memories hit him, causing his head to buzz again. The Altmer clutched his head and groaned, stumbling to the floor as memories of lab equipment and this very room resurfaced.

''“Elsinian! The empire requires results! Not recreations of past experiments!” ''A voice echoed in his head.

“We need to ensure that the subject is stable before moving onto faze two.” Elsianian replied, even though Lott remembered next to nothing about him, his voice still sounded familiar.

He broke free from his epiphany, shaking his head, rigorously to protect himself from more flashbacks.

“C’mon Ganlas, we need to.”

The Altmer turned around to see that his friend had gone, vanished. He took a quick look around but he realised that he was gone and that looking for him was futile. He’d be able to find him, eventually.

Lott just ran on ahead, his feet pounding the stone steps as he made his way up the spiral, stone staircase, his feet hit every step as he was too focussed on Elsianian to care about skipping a few of them.

Lott knew where his room was, highest room in the tower.

Elsinian was that egotistical…

Lott was actually thankful for the good doctor’s swollen ego as it made finding the bastard easier.

Lott arrived at the door to Elsianian’s office, he threw his shoulder against it and burst inside, in case Elsinian was expecting him and had an exit to move to. The door flew open and Lott barged inside, blasting lightning at Elsinian’s desk to startle him and keep him still.

As the books and loose pages rained down from the ceiling, Eslinian’s chair swivelled around, to reveal a terrified Ganlas in strange attire.

“G-Ganlas?” Lott stammered, stumbling back and looking around for Elsinian, not sure as to what was going on. He stopped as he stepped on a crumpled sheet of paper, that had been, recently, knocked to the floor. It made a ‘crunch,’ under his heel, that caused him to look down at a document.

Its author was a ‘Dr Ganlas Elsinian.’