A slow, hollow sound echoed through the stone. It rang out like a church bell in a forgotten chapel.
Everyone froze—even the guards.
"Damn it…" one whispered. "Ain't he dead yet? It's been a whole decade since the last knock."
The knock came again—two more times. Fainter. Slower.
"Do you hear that?" A short guard with a rat-like face moved closer to the door. His lips curled oddly, stretching in an unnatural grin.
"They're weaker now. That must have been his last try. He's finally dead!"
Silence fell again.
A silence heavy with fear.
"It must be so!" the other one said, moving away from the cell.
When the final locks clicked, the magical restraints binding their bodies faded. A wave of sensation returned, and Remy felt a dull ache, then clarity.
They could move again.
Think again.
Clementine was the first to speak.
"What do we do now?"
He was only a few years older than Remy, but his face told a different story. It had been aged by scars, his beard thick and wiry. He looked like a man twice his age, worn and weathered by whatever life had thrown at him.
"There's no point in deciding as a group," Louis said.
"Each of us has to decide for themselves." He paused, looking out the bars.
"Ask yourself, is it better to live as a slave… or die with whatever freedom you have left?"
Remy turned to face Louis.
"I guess that, even you have a time when you are not all joyful, ha." He thought, lying down on the cold stone floor.
His gaze drifted up and was glued to the sealing.
His mind was already made up.
"I'd rather die than be a slave."
"I bet they won't even let you choose how to die once you are a slave."
"I'm so-sorry, Mom."
His body gave in to exhaustion. Sleep came not gently, but like a collapse, dragging him into the dark.
His companions continued talking for a short while, but soon they all fell into a forced slumber.
"Hey Theo, Theo! I heard Corbett is paying 5 credits for all devices. Why don't we go to the dump and try looking for some?" A voice echoed as Remy slept.
"Victoria, is that you?" Remy called in his sleep.
"Victoria….Victoriaaaaaaaaa!" he called out, waking him self up from his sleep.
"Ha… what the hell am I saying? Who the hell is Victoria?" He thought his eyes were darting around, remembering where he was.
"Wake up, boy… come closer."
The voice was harsh, sharp, and cold like steel dragged across ice.
Remy's eyes shot wide.
"I knew you'd hear me. Come. Closer," the voice beckoned.
He looked around. The others were asleep, breathing slowly.
Peacefully.
"Louis," he whispered, reaching out to shake him awake, but his hand passed through Louis's body like mist.
Remy recoiled, stumbling backwards.
"No… no, no. Am I already dead?" he muttered.
Without realising it, he slipped through the bars like they weren't even there.
"No, you're not dead," the voice replied. "But you're close to it since you can hear me."
A chilling laugh echoed through the corridor, seeping into his bones. Remy dropped to one knee, clutching his chest.
"Ohhh, well, it's all the same to me, you are the reaper, ha!" he said, his voice hollow. "If there's a hell, I've already lived in it, you can take me."
"Hahahaha…You've only tasted the surface," the voice whispered. "But there is a way if you have the will to fight."
"The will to get revenge. Step forward, if you dare. Or stay there, be used as a pawn, then discarded."
Hearing those words, Remy didn't even hesitate.
He stepped toward the chained door.
"If there is a way to get out of here, I will take it even if it means working with a devil." He walked even closer to his eyes, burning with conviction.
The pressure he felt grew stronger as he neared.
"What now?"
"Walk through. Like you did the bars."
Remy reached out.
His hand melted through, and he fell through the door like it was water.
A wave of cold crashed over him.
Not just cold, he felt hate.
A living, ancient malice.
The figure that stood before him was tall and thin. It wore a plague mask shaped like a raven's beak, and on its shoulder perched a three-eyed raven with glowing yellow eyes. Both man and bird seemed made of smoke and ash, their bodies blurry there and not there.
"Now you see me…" the figure said. "Well, a version of me, at least. Still not afraid of hell?"
"Well, honestly, I don't believe in Devils. Or gods. If either existed, they wouldn't have let this world rot the way it has."
"Good," the figure replied. "Then you won't mind making a deal then." The voice rasped.
"What kind?"
"A simple one. I'll give you power. Enough to crush those who mock you. Step on those who step on you. "
He extended his hand.
"Shake my hand… and I'll make you dangerous."
Remy stared at the outstretched hand.
"There's probably a catch.
But there's no way it's worse than this."
He reached out and took it.
"You are now the herald of Shadow," the figure whispered.
It turned into smoke and rushed toward him, slamming into his chest and neck. He screamed.
It felt like fire spreading through his veins.
Remy woke with a cry.
"Remy! Remy!"
Louis grabbed his shoulder. "What is it?"
Remy was breathing hard, drenched in sweat.
"When did you get that raven tattoo on your neck?"
Remy froze.
His hand glided to his neck, where a sharp pain was still throbbing.
Before he could answer, a guard stomped toward their cell, slamming his baton against the bars.
"Lucky you," he muttered.
"The lord's decided to let one of you walk free."
He pointed at Louis. "You. Come."
Louis hesitated, "What do you mean me, tak—"
"Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh! The saint specifically asked for you," the guard spoke with a sadistic grin stretching across his mug.
"Go… on, at least one of us gets to live." The other people in the room" pushed Louis out.
He stepped out.
"Careful, Louis," Remy muttered, still holding his neck.
The guards chuckled among themselves as he followed.
"The lord's got some weird tastes, ha," one muttered.
"What do you mean?" the younger guard asked.
"Oh… I forgot you are still green, let's just say the lord enjoys the company of pretty boys."
Remy's stomach turned at hearing their whispers, and it seemed his hearing had been amplified.
He sat in silence, listening as the laughter faded down the corridor.
"I guess this time," the older guard added, "since he captured so many, he gets to spoil himself with choice."