This is what we call torture by water boarding.
Luther has been inflicted with it on a regular basis now. Since then the torture methods have been steadily getting worse. Broken fingers, ripping off his nails. And even worse, they branded his skin with the emblem of Vraignia to make him marked for life in shame. Like he gives two shits about either kingdom. His kidneys had gotten so many hits that he's even been pissing blood...
In fact, it's surprising Luther hasn't gotten any psychological scars yet.
'...God it hurts...'
[Bear through it, Host!] °(ಗдಗ。)°.
Dirt and grime stuck to the unmoving body chained to the wall. His head hung down, dry blood on his chopped white hair.
They had chopped off the hosts hair before Rhea had entered the world. The hair still laid scattered on the dungeon floor, dark with mud, blood and other substances.
[the original Luther got out! You can too Host!]
'...you think I can get out when I'm like this?... heh, funny. Where's the rescue team?'
[Host... Im sorry but no one is coming to save you. The original Luther Abravel was a soldier.... An easily expendable soldier. No matter how talented he was, they won't waste resources on an expendable who got himself captured during a recon mission. There can always be another Luther...]
A dark silence wafted over the air. If the reality hadn't set in before it certainly had now. Luther was all by himself right now, with nothing to rely on. Weak, injured, and starving. Life wasn't looking too good right now.
'How cruel.' His tone went low, quiet. Solemn.
[they are cruel!]
'But...that's true... you're right. No one's coming. I'm going to die here now. Fuck the mission.'
...maybe Luther did get a few phycological scars after all... (-人-。)
'It won't be long before they end up just chopping my limbs off and leaving me to die.'
[...]
Luther's dead eyes glinted with a spark, 'fuck the missions. I don't care about it right now. First priority: live.'
Parasite sighed in relief. He really thought his host gave up for good for a second there.
'we need to do something.'
Right after that thought, footsteps approached his cell. But they didn't stop, they walked further, stopping at the cell right next to Luther's. The door opened with the shriek of metal against metal. Cries yelped out as two figures were harshly thrown into the cell.
Slowly, Luther raised his blank eyes and saw two small kids huddled up together, trembling in terror as the soldier man locked up the cell and walked away.
Luther's eyes went cold.
'We need to find a way out soon.'
Luther lowered his head and closed his dry eyes to keep from straining himself for too long. He truly felt exhausted and weak. He wouldn't be able to fight for very long even if they let go of his chains.
The two kids started sobbing with such raw emotion Luther wanted to plug his ears. The original host was a man who kept emotions on a tight leash, so hearing those two scrawny kids crying and failing at suppressing their tears was clawing at Luther's weakened heart after having to suffer so much torture alone. The feeling almost risked him breaking his character just to say or do something.
He stayed unmoving, like a corpse, face stoic and emotionless.
After a while he unknowingly fell to his exhaustion and fell asleep to the white noise of crying kids in the background and the thoughts of murder swirling in his mind.
- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
His face was struck to the side with enough force to wake him up instantly and draw out a low groan from his throat. His eyes slit open, glazing over all the surroundings in a daze, not clearly registering them, till the face of his assaulter entered his field of view.
'...The fuck?'
His face was struck again. Blinking, he drew his cold narrowed eyes back to the assaulter before slowly turning his face to follow.
'Who's this baby face?'
The baby face swung his hand to slap him again, but Luther slightly angled his head backwards, dodging the hit.
'He's not one of the usual men.' He now had the man in full view as his mind cleared from the grogginess that came from his sleep.
The kid looked comically enraged, with his constipated and his fist clenched like it's the first time someone thought to dodge him. Luther's lips slightly curved in amusement, enough to be noticeable but not enough to break character. It turned flat once the bastard side kicked him like punching bag.
'Amateur...' He realized, 'that's not how you give a hit. It's not even painful enough to make me cry. Who is this guy Parasite?'
[He seems to be a Vraigania aristocrat]
Punch.
Luther clenched his jaw and slowly turn his face back at the man. He hadn't had a very refreshing sleep, if anything he became more exhausted. And this shit beating was making him more and more short tempered.
'If this baby face doesn't have anything better to do-'
Punch.
Luther abruptly lunged at him. The chain rattled as Luther tugged on them with such force. A feral sound produced from his throat that shocked not only the baby face but Luther as well. He settled to give a cold glare that only a person who had blood and death on his hands all his life could give.
The baby face immediately went pale and stumbled back, tripping and falling on his bottom. He scrambled back, struggling to get up and run out of the cell.
Luther just watched in slight disbelief. Although he was surprised by his own actions and especially that growl, didn't know where that came from at all, he was more interested in that kid's reaction instead.
'...what? Was he just playing with me? Rich boy wanted to use a prisoner as some punching bag?'
[That... I'm shocked as well Host]
'Who the hell even let him in here...' Just as Luther relaxed his tense face. He angled his head slightly and used his enhanced hearing skill to follow the aristocrat. The sound of shuffled running, laboured breathing, and then him yelling orders to some people about leaving this filthy place at once. Losing interest, Luther brought his range of hearing back to circulate within 500 metres of himself. The sounds of scurrying rats, chains clanking, creaking metal, and the presence of all the guards only registered into his mind.
Overall, this entire underground base was huge. Luther has occasionally been scouring the area with his enhanced hearing but he hasn't picked up on much useful information other than the ones he's already known since he got here. The only important information he's managed to get is that this base held only a few high ranking soldiers, one of which has been constantly present during his torture sessions. And the fact that they haven't been able to weasel out any information from Luther has been grating at their egos. It definitely won't be long before they deem him useless and just outright kill him.
At least he's managed to memorize a way out. The guards all have different ways of entering and exiting. Left, right, right, left, right... on and on. Luther listened into everything. And he found a few people of interest, the staff and servants. They had an entirely different route. Hidden entrances and such. Quite useful.
He became lost in his thoughts. However the immediate sound of shuffling coming from the side instantly brought him to alert. Looking over, he saw two pairs of wide eyes. They flinched back the moment his blank gaze set on them.
Those pairs of eyes belonged to those two kids. Now that Luther properly looked at them he could see that they were related by blood if not siblings by their similar features. One little girl the other a little boy, both malnourished. Scrawny. But they also seemed like they would be fast and nimble on their feet.
The three of them stood still, just staring at each other, frozen. One chained to the wall, the other two huddled up against each other, looking at the other separated by a single wall of bars.
Luther saw no threat or any other relevance from the kids and so looked away first. Not interested in the staring contest for longer than a few minutes. That's when a shiny object attracted his eye.
'that aristocratic must've dropped it when he fell...'
Slowly, Luther stretched his bare leg, with only filthy ripped cloth acting as shorts to cover them, out as far as his chains would let him. He winced as his injuries began to pull. He was barely able to reach his toes over the object and slide it over, but he made it and rested back against the wall again. The shiny object surprisingly a sharp pencil like object made out of metal.
He slightly raised an eyebrow, 'huh, baby face was useful after all. What is this thing Parasite?'
[I don't know. Perhaps some random accessory popular amongst the aristocracy? But Host it looks like a useful weapon! We might be able to get out of here with this thing]
Luther observed his new weapon for longer. Then tucked the new found accessory away in his system space. He was really regretting disposing that knife he used to have in his space. In fact, he didn't even store any food or anything very useful to use for his current situation in his space. He's now realizing exactly how stupid that had been.
Always be prepared.
Prepare for everything and anything.
His mind trailed off to other topics not noticing a silence falling back in the cells.
"Does it hurt?" A small, quiet voice said out loud.
Luther blinked, glanced over. The kids were closer to him now. Leaning against the same wall, with only the wall of bars separating them. The little girl was staring straight at the dirty floor, eyes fixed. The little boy clutching at her the end of her withered plain dress kept glancing his wide eyes between Luther and the girl.
"...Your injuries." She quietly elaborated.
He didn't answer the question. He only looked at them with unreadable eyes.
He looked away tiredly, closing his eyes so he could fall asleep from his exhaustion. Just before he fell into the depth of sleep, he spoke with blunt, raspiness in his unused voice.
"No."
- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
Something was happening.
It's been a few days now and yet no one had come to torture him. Especially since they brought in the new company... quite sad that it takes being tortured daily enough to become the new normal and when it stops that's when u worry. But nothing can be done about that now.
He has noticed a lot of hurried shuffling as well. Most soldiers done talk amongst each other within this underground compound. They're quite the strict and disciplined set of soldiers.
His new neighbours had made themselves more known throughout the days. Always talking on and off to communicate with Luther. But Luther had to stay in character and seldom spoke to the kids. They called him Mister this and Mister that. Neither of the two sides knew the names of the other. It didn't seem to bother them nor did it seem to be changing anytime soon.
He would talk to them eventually, but not just yet.
He wasn't sure if these kids were actually trustworthy or not. Who knows if they're plants just to get him talking or not. Especially since Luther hasn't seen a single prisoner other than himself and these two kids since he took over the original host.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Luther listened lifelessly to the sounds of dripping dirt water dropping on the little puddles they formed from the halls of this underground base. His chains rattled at his every move. His feet numb from the cold dirt. It would be an understatement if he said he was just bored.
Luther glanced at the other cell.
These kids weren't actually too bad. They were quiet and didn't ask too many questions. They talked about the most basic things like the places they wanted to travel to, how their childhood was (They had parents, friends and a village. Turns out they are in fact siblings. Happy memories overall), how they met a pedlar who gave them trinkets. And yet, they still knew they were gonna die here. The little boy even asked his sister in a small trembling whisper.
"Are we going to die here? I don't wanna die." His sister only hugged him as he cried himself to sleep. Luther listened to all of it in silence. He couldn't do anything for them. He's not a Mary sure. If he couldn't even save himself he won't be much help to them.
"Hey mister. Have you ever seen the big cities?"
"..." no reply. But that didn't deter the kids as they had already grown used to Luther's bare responses.
"We've heard tales of how the cities become livelier at night. How the lights keep the skies so bright as if it were daytime!" The little boy raved on about the city being alive at night, how he wished to see them and such. But his wistful childish tone kept quiet enough to not alert the guards.
"Our village was quite small. It surely wouldn't compare to the enthralling life of a big city."
"Our village was fine as it was." The sister retorted at her brother in a low voice, "we had festivities and everything that lightened up the night as well." she almost looked like she was pouted. Luther wanted to laugh, she looked cute whilst keeping her faux big girl attitude.
"Sister, they were so boring, it was always the same people. And I know that even you didn't wish to attend them. The village could never compare to the big cities the travellers would tell us about. The big buildings, the markets, the theatrical plays."
"Father hated the cities and mother said she disliked the noise." The boy instantly became despondent at his sister's cold reminder.
'Well that put a damper on the mood.' Luther was obviously listening to the kids, dripping water always dulled in comparison to the conversation of the two siblings.
The girl's face stayed impassive, "what do you think mister? Should my brother shut his mouth and keep his wishful thinking of seeing the big cities to himself— Hey!" The boy kicked his sister on the leg.
"It might be wishful thinking but at least I'm thinking of things other than death all the time unlike someone."
"I do not think about death all the time." She hissed lowly. "If it comes then so be it. I'm not gonna be crying about it."
Luther's face formed a fractured frown. He'd rather not hear little kids barely entering the double digits talk much more of their inevitable deaths.
But he stayed quiet.
The boy on the other hand raised his voice and looked at his sister with aggression offence.
"Even heathens know how to fear and cry over death better then you could ever hav—"
"Why... did they bring you kids into this place?"
The words left Luther's mouth before he could stop himself.
His voice was rough and weak but they heard him. He could tell by the way the boy abruptly stopped his harshening dialogue and how they turned to look at him in shock. This was the first time the mister had asked them a question willingly. But their expressions turned crestfallen once they realize what he was asking, immediately forgetting the little spat that was going way out of proportions with their little kid brains having constantly changing attention spans.
Kids could be so savage and mentally damaging with their words without knowing it. Either way, it was a distraction that succeeded in moving their minds to other topics... not the best ones, in fact now that Luther was thinking, it might've been worse.
The little boy made a pained expression. The girl, pursing her lips hard. She was quiet for a while before speaking slowly.
"They... killed our parents."
She picked at the threads at the end of her dress. The little boy only hugged his knees and turned to look away from them, acting passive aggressive especially from the previous conversation.
"Father— they said father was a traitor. Destroyed our village... it was a massacre. Mother tried to make us run away into the forest. But they caught us. We saw mother and father on the groun—" the girl choked off, couldn't bare to finish that they saw their parent bleeding to death on the ground with countless others. "They took us here... Said that t-traitorous spawns should be...locked up."
Luther glanced at the girl. Although elevated, her heartbeat thrummed evenly. Her words stayed the truth.
"Father wasn't a traitor!" The little boy stood up abruptly. Hands balled into tiny fists. It was cute. "He- He... He wasn't a traitor! I won't believe it!"
No one said anything for a long time after that.
In a way, these kids lost everything just like Luther Abravel.
- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
Luther sat in meditation, face in concentration. He was using his heightened sense of hearing to find out what the situation was. Finally, he found the reason.
Vraigania soldiers were being called out all at once to gather for some ritual celebration of sorts that the Vraigania Kingdom celebrated. It would last for a week. The soldiers were busy with preparations, they set back on the interrogations. Meaning, Luther had a week free of torture and high surveillance guards. He could escape!
The original Luther must've also seen an opportunity during this time. There was absolutely no info in the plot as to how the original escaped. The memories Luther has aren't useful either as it seems they've been glossed over and hazy for a majority of the part. He must have been disassociating for most of his time in this prison by the looks of it. Luther's lips slightly twitched at the realization. The original really had a tragic life.
It sucked hard but Luther knew he could work around it. He was guessing that the original was able to unlock his constraints and figure out the servant pathways even on autopilot.
Either way, there won't be any soldiers coming by for some time.
He spoke too soon.
It wasn't long before a group of men came over to his cell and beat the shit out Luther.
His mouth spilled blood, he dry heaved so hard his bruised ribs weren't helping. Luther felt the man pull at his hair bringing his lolling head face to face. Luther only stared at him with unchanging eyes.
"Are you ready to talk yet? Or do you want a few less limbs? Hmm?"
Luther's appearance looked hard and stiff, not reacting in the least to all the provocations.
Seeing no reaction, the leader of this groupie tsked. "It seems this white haired freak needs to be taught another lesson. Let's dump the hot oil on him before the commander comes back. It's what all avrailium trash deserve after what they've done to us!"
"Ah- wait wait," one of them pulled Luther's face towards them, to closely examine it "this one's quite pretty." The corners of his mouth stretched out wretchedly. "Would be a shame to send him on his way without playing with him a bit." Some of them smirked, understanding what their comrade meant.
'These motherfuckers.' A cold light flashed through Luther's eyes. The man caressed Luther's face with his gloved finger.
"Hah, hear that?" The leader spoke, "they want some. Making an avrailium like you become a bitch in heat should be an honour for you. Enjoy the last pleasures before your death."
There the men surrounded him with growing perverse expressions.
Another man manhandled him up to stand. Pulling his hair back to expose his bruised neck.
Luther's eyes shadowed over and he slightly tilted his eyes towards the other cell. One of the men bit down on his neck with force, licking with hunger.
"Hey kids." Although his voice was quiet and scratchy, the two eyes immediately stood at attention looking towards him with fear of his well-being.
His red-rimmed eyes looked straight at them as the soldiers surrounded him. They had their hands on him now.
"Close your eyes. Don't open them till I say so." His voice was low but they heard him. Although it took a few seconds longer the two kids squeezed their eyes shut, holding onto each other for comfort. They were scared and worried. But they trusted the mister. They closed their eyes and waited.
The soldiers laughed out loud in amusement.
"Close their eyes? How naive! Your efforts are in vain, we'll be taking care of them next-"
Luther suddenly moved back and head butted the man salivating over him right in the nose and tugged on his chains to whip over a soldier behind him, bringing him down. He brought out that pencil like accessory out of his space and stood tense with it in his shackled hands.
His eyes glowed-
The kids still had there eyes closed. And they listened. The sharp clashes of metal startled them.
Sounds of yelling and pain flooded their ears. They couldn't see what was happening but they heard as every body fell, as throats gurgled... and as all the yelling eventually stopped.