His Curse to Bear
This short story depicts the frenzied state of Soren Moravec. There is angst and slight mention of violence. Please read at your own discretion.
And shoutout to Aliibini for the amazing artwork, I couldn't have asked for a more atmospheric piece!
It was entirely pitch black, but the humidity and coldness in the air was palpable. The man had slowly regained consciousness, only to find that he was firmly tied down to a chair and gagged. He tried to push against his restraints, but could only let out a few grunts in his futile efforts to escape. And with each trembling breath and shift of his clothes, the man felt like he was being pricked by needles. His anxiety only grew with each passing second.
The man flinched when he heard a barely audible click and the creaking of a door swinging open. The sudden exposure of light from the outside momentarily blinded him, making him strain his eyes to keep them open. As the door slammed shut, the room was illuminated by a dim light overhead. When the man's vision finally adjusted, his face became riddled with fear.
The bony black tail with a razor sharp end, the vivid red crystal embedded in his chest, the crimson blood magic that ominously flowed around him. It was none other than Soren Moravec standing before him. His tall stature was even more imposing from where the man sat. From his stoic expression to his cold demeanor, there wasn't anything comforting or friendly about him. And with what little knowledge the man knew, he was in the worse-case scenario.
Soren languidly walked toward the man, his slow steps echoing within the small room. Every movement and lack of expression plainly showing indifference and detachment. An overwhelming metallic stench filled the man's nose as the damp rag was pulled out of his mouth. The man didn't dare make a sound. He tried to shift his attention elsewhere, but all that greeted him were grey stone walls covered in faded stains. This only increased his feeling of dread for what was to come. Against his better judgement, the man returned his gaze back onto Soren. That was the biggest mistake he could have made.
As his once white sclera clouded over to black, Soren gave a vile smirk. The tension seemed to reach the breaking point as adrenaline started to kick in. The man was visibly shaking and his eyes began to quiver. The blood magic in the air immediately began to glow and solidify. With a flick of Soren's hand, it impaled, sliced, and ripped chunks of the man apart. Even as the man spewed out all kinds of information and ultimately begged for his life, nothing he said changed anything. He could only wait for his end, no matter how slowly it came.