[The cold chill of the damp stone brushes against the young dragon's face]
Drip
Drip
Drip
The leaky ceiling of the dilapidated dungeon echoed throughout the small confinement Egan resides in. The small sound of every rodent, inmate sigh, or guard snoring bounces off each stone in this dark cell, reverberating back to the young dragon's ears.
The young dragon was still asleep; his body numb to his surroundings. He was struck. Strong enough to knock him out cold. The slow marching of passing guards shatters the silence permeating the dungeon. Their metal keys dance in song as they walk.
Drip
Drip
The stone from above was leaking. The piping inside the dungeon was abysmal, each nook and cranny stuffed with mold and mildew to keep it insulated… And isolated.
The chain-bound Egan shifts in his slumber.
He dreams.
He dreams about the people he couldn't save and the horrid expressions on their faces as they pass. The little girl who was impaled begins to walk towards Egan. Her arm reached out, grabbing the steel bar impaled in her chest, Egan cowering in fear. He watches as she rips out the long pole, her insides pouring out in the process.
'You did this…'
Egan cowardly backs away from the girl. Each of her steps reverberated throughout the ground, sending a cold chill down his spine. Her entrails guided the floor as she slowly advanced. Egan was terrified, begging for her to stop, begging for her forgiveness. Forgiveness he didn't think he deserved.
His face was screaming with the primal desire to escape, but his legs wouldn't move. For the hands of those he failed to protect reached out from the ground, clasping on him, dragging him down along with them. The arms of the dead beckoning the dragon to join them, for he does not belong with the living. He has no right to continue to live while their lives are snuffed out. A flaw like him deserves such a fate.
A flaw they wanted to get rid of.
Egan continued to resist, for deep down he wanted to believe he was good, that he deserved a second chance. But the figure in front of him dwarfed his sense of morality, silencing the thoughts of redemption that he so desperately needed. Crawling back further and further, he continues his escape, unable to get up.
[Bump] ~ [Squish]
Egan's hand was wet, covered in something warm. His fingers felt something soft yet dense, as though rubbing his hand on raw meat.
He turns around.
'God no…'
Rotting.
Motionless.
Empty.
The orphan boy was there, lying dead behind him, his arm now grasping Egan's. His eyes were no longer there. Replaced by the sunken sockets in which they used to belong. His neck was punctured straight through, the knife wound still visible.
He held onto Egan tightly, his arms bloodied and atrophied. He begged for his life back, that he should sacrifice his life so that he could live. Egan terrified, his face full of regret and remorse, turns around.
Within an instant, the girl carrying the metal pole had run the sharp rod.
Straight through Egan's mouth.
***
With a jolt he awakened.
His body sweating, his face distorted.
He was panicking. Each neuron in his brain screams with emotions. Both of fear and relief. He was relieved that it was just a dream, but the lingering voices of the people he couldn't save still stained him. His breathing was heavy, each being visible in front of him. The cold atmosphere of the eerie place he resides in is becoming visible to him, for his vision is still pinpointed.
He tried to move his hands.
The attempt was quickly halted, the cold chains jolting his body back to the sit-up position he originally was in. He began to struggle more, still not fully understanding the situation he was in. He tries to use resonance to break out, but terrifying images flash in his mind, images reminding him of what he had done using his power. The racket caused one of the inmates next to him to shift. Egan looks over towards him, his tattered clothes and matted figure lay slumped on the ground as he sleeps.
Frantic, he looks around examining his surroundings closely, the chains still binding him. He notices the damp walls enclosing him, the chilling silence of dripping cold stone, and the snoring of a guard stationed somewhere in the dark tomb.
He knew what this was.
A prison.
He felt like a burden. So somewhere deep in his psyche, he thought this was where he belonged. He was still confused about how he got here, his face drained of color. He begins to drift off again, his tired body wanting a little more rest. Rest he rightfully deserved.
[The tapping of metal jolts Egan awake]
An inmate to the right of him was throwing rocks at his cell in an attempt to get his attention.
Egan's cell was located a decent ways away from the others. His enclosure was covered in a thicker layer of steel and surrounded by a hefty amount of cold stone. His chains were massive, binding not just his hands, but his legs, waist, and mouth.
The inmate desperate for his attention was short and ragged. His clothes were tattered from age as though he had been imprisoned for life. His crooked teeth were twisting as his lips pucker in an attempt to speak.
The ringing in Egan's ears subsides.
'hey… hey!… Hey!'
Egan continues to look over at him, now locking eyes with the other inmate, his pupils dilated, and his face wrinkled and old, marked by time.
'So… You're the one who did it?'
His whispers were faint. Barely audible but audible enough.
'Why'd ya do it?'
He continues his sly banters, fully aware of how Egan's mouth is shackled preventing speech. In response to his inquiries, he just stares, hoping that is a sufficient response.
***
With a sudden slamming of a sword against metal the inmate scammers off, hiding away in the dusty shadow he originally emerged from. The guard had awoken due to the chatter, his face flush with anger. With a twist of his head, he glares at Egan, his eyes filled with both hate
And disgust.
Egan did nothing but glare in return, reciprocating the warm welcome with open arms.
As the guard approaches, his full suit of armor rattling in the silence, he sheaths his sword. Loud and violently, he slams his hands against the bars, his face getting as close to Egan's as it can.
'You disgusting freak… Your kind should have stayed dead. You're nothing but a walking disease."
Egan was confused.
'His kind? What was he talking about?'
Egan's eyes were blank. Not a single emotion lay behind his glossed-over stare. For his stare lay solely on the ground, his eyes no longer meeting the guards. He no longer had the strength to confront him. His kind? Whatever he is, he is a freak.
The guard continues
'If it weren't for you… My daughter would have been spared in that explosion. You inhuman fuck. I can't wait for your execution! Duke Hadrian will make quick work of you!'
Egan continued to stare at the ground, his eyes only twitching upon hearing the Duke's name. He no longer cared for what happened to him, for he knew he wouldn't die from this execution. He is a cockroach, one that would continue to be a burden for those around him, no matter the form of punishment he endures.
"…"
Loud footsteps bellow out from beyond Egan's line of sight. The shuffling of armor followed by a slamming of weapons rings out throughout the long hallway. A familiar voice follows.
'The whole town waits patiently for your performance. So why don't we put on a show for you little lady friends?'
Egan looks up.
His eyes became pinpointed in anger upon seeing whos' face he had the displeasure of viewing. His glowing green eyes pierced the darkness Egan was surrounded by. His glare was intense, as though staring through him. Hadrian now stands towering over the cell, his green eyes and glowing rapier being the only things visible from beyond the steel bars. For some strange reason, it sent a chill down his spine, a familiar chill.
He recognized it.
But from where?
"How does it feel to have an entire city despise you?" Hadrian remarks, not a sliver of emotion etched on his face.
Egan didn't respond, or rather, he couldn't
"How does it feel to be the cause of thousands of deaths?" Hadrian remarks yet again.
Egan didn't respond.
"Do you feel satisfied? You horned freaks need to be put down." He stated, slamming his boot onto the metal bars, the whole cell shaking as dust fell from the ceiling, "I knew I should have slain you where you stood upon our first meeting. But due to your company, I thought it rude. However, if I think about it now… They are still going to see your head roll… So, I guess it was a miscalculation on my part."
"A blunder I'm sure to redeem soon."
Egan looked at him, his eyes beginning to grow more and more intense.
"Open the door."
Hadrian waved his hand towards the guard, his eyes still pinpointed on Egan.
"But…"
Hadrian quickly grabs the back of the guard's head, slamming his face into the steel bars. The guard shocked and howling in pain is cut off by Hadrian putting his finger on his lips, shushing him.
"Open the door."
"Y-Yes, your grace…"
With a stammer of his hands and a fumbling of feet, the guard slowly unlocks and opens the door. He is terrified of both parties. But which to be terrified from fear, and which to be terrified out of respect? In the eyes of the guard. Both are to be feared. Because to him, the two people in front of him.
Are equally monsters.
***
His glowing green eyes continued to stare as the steel-barred door opened slowly. The creaking of the door echoed as it completed the semicircle, each grind of the steel lighting sparks underneath the Duke, lighting up his face in short flashes. His deep green eyes still pierced the darkness, never wavering from his stare. Not even a blink stopped his gaze.
He began to advance, Egan sitting there looking over at the towering man before him. Egan could break out, but that would prove to everyone the monster that he is believed to be. For Egan had a revelation.
He may be a monster, but the person that stands before him.
Is something worse.
'I can feel it.'
[The sound of dripping water yet again breaks the silence]
Hadrian reaches his hands out, slowly caressing his hands on the noble horns Egan adorns on his head. Now kneeling, he looks into Egan's eyes, who had an even more intense look of hate in them. How dare this filth mock me?
With a quick grab of the horn, he slams his face into the ground, blood pouring from his head and nose in the process. The slam was enough to shake the whole cell and send cracks throughout the ground.
"The cell has been enforced with essence, allowing it to contain someone of incredible strength. So, I can punish you personally, without damage to my city."
Raising his head back up, horn still in hand. He once again slams his head against the ground, more cracks appearing in the process. The sound of cracking bones and ripping flesh echo throughout the dungeon.
Hadrian lifts his head up, noticing Egan's face slowly sizzling as his broken features begin to heal. With a smirk, Hadrian unsheathes his sword, aiming up towards Egan's face.
"From up close, you really are an abomination. For you, only hell awaits."
"And there, we shall meet again."
Slowly gliding his sword across Egan's cheek, his blade piercing his skin, blood rushing from the tear, Hadrian begins to speak again.
"Your main event last night had people on the edge of their seats. And so… Your death… Shall be the Grand Finale!"
The blood on Egan's face ran hot, hotter than it usually was.
Because for the first time, it felt as though his regeneration.
Was being forcibly halted.