Post by Azrael Erebus on Dec 31, 2018 5:13:13 GMT -8
The containment cell was cramped, dark and cold. With thick walls, a floor and ceiling, that were all made from a special metal alloy; that by all rights and purposes, were considered to be quite indestructible. Air flow was fluctuated through tiny vent holes in the ceiling. In the corner there was a toilet and across from it, a cot. Both created from the same exact metal and bolted to the floor. Lastly a small slot, for food trays was built into the front wall... or was it the back, or the side... direction was a hard thing to determine in this shoe box prison. The type of place that was designed to make one go mad. Especially if you woke up here and didn't know how you entered. Which is exactly how Azrael Erebus, became acquainted with this black abyss. This dungeon of doom, that had been constructed, just for him. Though this was not the first time that he was sealed away somewhere, in a place that was meant to break a man. Locked up in a confinement chamber that could crack a being's mind. Make them lose their senses. No. In Azrael's long life, he encountered many pits of hell, much like this one. The only difference between those times and now, was that he couldn't break through the walls or escape and there was a definite lasting end that was awaiting him, the very second that he found himself released. Death would be the spaceman's only deliverance and this time, it would be forever.
Sitting on the floor, with his back pressed against the wall and left knee pulled up close to him, so that his chin could rest on it, while the right leg laid flat out, Azrael peered into the darkness and pondered time. Yes. Time. How much passed since he woke up here? He hadn't the foggiest notion. It felt like it had been a long time but he wasn't certain. This type of cell was made for that though, to confuse and distort reality. Months could have gone by or merely just a matter of a few days. He didn't know. Which was funny considering that he prided himself on being the master of time. Now he was clueless, much like anyone else would be in that state. Though this wasn't the only ability that he lost. Thanks to a metal color, affixed around his neck; the only brand spanking new edition to what he was wearing, none of his powers seemed to work. Not even his regeneration factor. Something he found out from experience because after he opened his eyes and registered his surroundings, instinct kicked in and he tried to put his fist through a wall. Alas, that only led to a severely broken fist, that still remained painfully shattered.
The bones were smashed to bits in some areas and it sort of looked like, someone had either taken a vice grip to his hand or rolled a tank over it. For Azrael punched at that wall, with relentless intent, until the agony caused him to pass out. When he woke up, his hand hadn't healed and now the pain was so great, it made him feel as though he might vomit, every time he moved it. There was also a terrible stench that wafted from it, indicating that gangrene had more than likely set in. Which meant that the only course left was amputation. Probably the whole damn arm would have to go, just to be on the safe side. The irony didn't fail Azrael. Many moons ago, he joined the XWF with only one arm and now, here he sat at the brink of losing the same fucking arm. Not that it mattered. It wasn't like he was going to survive to see that happen. No. He was destined to die or rot away from infection and then die. There weren't many options other than that. A shiver passed through him, fever from his destroyed hand had taken over his body, making this already cold cell feel more like the inside of an ice cube.
Azrael brought his head back sharply against the wall. The instant twang of pain, accompanied by the ache of the aftereffect, made him softly chuckle as he wondered if maybe, he should simply bash his own skull in. He did the same, basic thing with his hand, so it was possible... in theory, anyway. Besides, how pissed would Maxwell be when it was discovered that Azrael, finished the job? For him? Ha! The man would go berserk. Utterly mental. Why knowing how royally fucked up that would make Max's day... well, it made the idea downright tempting. After all the plotting and planning that Max put into his diabolical scheme, Azrael kills himself. The image was priceless. With a bittersweet chuckle, Azrael closed his eyes. He would do no such thing, no matter how funny it would be. Maxwell would not get the opportunity to spin this in a direction that made Azrael look weak. Because that's what Maxwell would do, after his temper tantrum, his joy would come from the suffering of Azrael's children. Who knows, it still could but at least, if he got to murder Azrael, it might delay the process long enough for Az's plan to take effect. The man from the stars had a plan alright and boy, was it a doozy. A real whopper. That would leave the entire world in disbelief, scratching their heads. Most of all Maxwell, who would never see it coming, not for one, single, second.
This knowledge brought a smile to the spaceman's face. With eyes still shut, he decided to focus solely on that information and push everything else, out of his head. The future was nigh and while Maxwell wanted him to see only the bleak, twisted side, Azrael knew it was bright and powerful. Like the blast of a bomb. Or a rocket
"God. You look like shit. What happened to your hand?"
Azrael's eyes popped open. He must have fallen asleep but for how long, he had no way of knowing. Blinking in the once pitch black cell, he was now greeted with piercing florescent light and the sight of Maxwell Maximus, standing over him. Staring down.
This ripped laughter from Azrael, hearty and loud as he dipped his head forward. Shaking it, he raised his focus back up to Maxwell, lifting his broken, fucked up hand for good measure as he over-exaggeratedly, shrugged his shoulders.
"I see, so you've gone insane, how sad."
Another burst of laughter rocked Azrael's body.
"Oh please, I've suffered far worse than this. I've experienced practically every torture method that this planet has to offer. Been imprisoned on worlds, where they thrived and lived for torment and suffering. Places where pain was taught as an art form and another being's body was merely a canvas. And I've been to the Realm of Madness. Which is literally the worst place to find yourself, in the whole entire galaxy and I didn't crack. This right here, is a piece of cake."
"Really?"
Maxwell shot a hand out and grabbed onto Azrael's shattered fist, squeezing it tight. The agony was tremendous. Azrael fought back the urge to puke with all his might as he stared, straight into Maxwell's eyes, unflinching.
"Yeah. Really."
Releasing Azrael's hand, Maxwell retrieved a cloth handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to wipe off his own hand, before tossing the hanky down to the floor.
"The Realm of Maddness?"
"It's a sort of prison for criminals that committed acts against the universe. The worst of the worst. Violators deemed extremely dangerous and utterly insane. They're put there to stop them from doing anything destructive, on a galactic level. I found myself there by accident, others aren't as lucky. Or fortunate enough to get to freedom before the place takes you over and you literally become a part of it. A maniacal echo doomed to carry the wind, everlasting and always. Not even death can set you free."
"Sounds like your kind of place. Like you belong there."
"Like you know where anyone belongs. Hey, weren't you raised in an orphanage, abandoned by your real parents and shunned by everyone else because of that little birth defect that I helped you correct. You know the one concerning your nether regions. Can your partners tell that you were born with both, fully functioning sex organs, cause kudos to me if they can't, right?"
His face overtaken with a sinister grin, fit only for a treacherous villain, most foul, Maxwell grabbed Azrael by the throat, with a firm, almost white knuckle grip. He then thrust Azrael against the wall as he started to choke the life out of the spaceman. Struggling to talk, let alone breathe, Azrael had this retort.
"So this is it, huh? I gotta say, not very climatic."
Giving an annoyed sigh, Max let go of Azrael's neck.
"No. This isn't the way. I just wanted to see you squirm, see if you would beg for your life."
"Sorry to disappoint. I'm not the begging sort."
"No you aren't, are you? It's a shame, I might have let you live, if only you put your pride aside and asked. Throw in a please, maybe some tears and that would have been a definite, yes. There's still a chance for me to change my mind. It is the last chance though. So if you're going to do it, you should do it now. Then your children won't lose their father. You get to see your grandchildren, grow up. And just as a special bonus, I'll tell you the name of another son of yours. There is another child spawned from the gene of - E, out there and he is an absolute mess. Probably because he has no idea that he's your son. Which is funny, because going by your planet's myths and beliefs, he's the one that should have brought about the end of the universe, not Lila. What with him being your first born and all. So what do you say? Come on. Beg. It can be our little secret, no one has to know that you crumbled and caved, under my command, no less. So just do it already. Cry and tell me how much you want to live."
"Go fuck yourself."
"That's a shame, a real tragedy. Well, I tried but clearly, you're far too selfish to care. About anyone but yourself. Which is too bad cause that first born son of yours, as luck would have it... happens to be a part of the XWF. Imagine that! Oh well, you can bring a horse to water but you can't make 'em drink."
Maxwell turned and started walking toward a door that opened, seemingly from out of the wall. It was as if the wall, parted open, revealing a ddoor. Jumping up to his feet, Azrael grabbed Max by the shoulder.
"How is it going to happen? How are you going to kill me?"
"Spoilers."
With that, Max pulled a remote control device from his trouser pocket and pushed a button. An intense electrical current surged through Azrael, sending him straight to the floor. As he convulsed violently, Maxwell exited the cell and once again, Azrael was met with darkness. From both unconsciousness and the lights, promptly shutting off. He was alone.
End Transmission