"-ahh"
A room of pure concrete is what greeted the man who spoke as he regained consciousness once again, a common occurrence to him in recent times.
The room was sparsely decorated, only filled by an overbearing painting of a self-important man, needlessly expensive desks along with their accompanying fancy chairs that too looked way too overpriced to be placed inside what could only be described as a glorified cage.
In this desolate room, intentionally made to be depressing, stood a group of four men, each in a different state.
One stood at the back of the room before a row of desks, clad in a regal style of clothing made for wealthy individuals who want nothing more than to separate themselves from the lower class, obviously due to their arrogance and never-ending ego.
The man looked like what a stereotypical corrupt noble would look like—a long pointed nose, small thin snake-like eyes, a shiny bald head, and a lanky, skinny build that appeared like he hadn't had to lift a single item in his life.
Just from a glance, he was simply standing there posing, seemingly trying to make himself look menacing and dignified… but failing miserably at the task, only looking pompous and clearly fucking stupid.
Another man, this one in front, was dressed in attire possibly designed after a butcher, someone who works with raw meat daily. Clad in a thick pair of green overalls that covered every inch of his body from the neck down, with a leather apron over it to protect the rest of his clothing from blood splatter.
Though in this scenario, and from the expression marring his face, the blood didn't seem to come from dead animals.
His face was deformed from years upon years of inbreeding in his wealthy family, causing varying disabilities in the man, including but not limited to being mute.
His body language suggested that he was, or at least appeared to be, holding himself back from his wicked thoughts and dark desires that flowed freely through his twisted mind.
He was an ugly creature, barely looking human at all with how little neck he had, as well as the bulging muscles and fat that made up most of his body.
The third man was dressed in blood-red military clothing that, in actuality, looked quite intimidating, further accentuated by a clearly trained body. A gun was holstered at the very centre of his chest, proudly bearing arms publicly for all to see and draw fear from anyone close enough to earn his ire.
This man, in the span of five minutes, spent his time shouting and getting in the face of the fourth man, a perpetual angry scowl and simultaneous look of disdain on his face, as if looking at a dirty rat on the street while spitting his condescending words at him.
Now onto the fourth man.
This one was stripped down to nothing but what could generously be called underwear, but in reality was just a makeshift loincloth. Chained to a chair smack in the middle of the room, glaring back deliriously at the men stood in front of him with a cloudy look in his dim hazel eyes.
"This is your final chance, Corvo. Sign the confession and let me give you the rites to put your spirit at ease."
After finishing his sentence, the man in red barely waited a second before giving a nod to the butcher as a signal. The butcher picked up a red-hot glowing piece of metal that, from the looks of things, had been resting on a bed of flaming coals. He brought the metal piece closer to the man, waiting a single moment just to draw out more fear, then placed it directly onto his neck.
"ARGGGG!!!! Grrrrrrr—haaaah…."
He clenched his teeth loudly enough to hear cracks, but successfully held back a scream of agony, refusing to give the sick bastards the pleasure.
The man in regal clothing, once known as the spymaster of Dunwall and now the Lord Regent after successfully taking control of the power vacuum left by the Empress's death, walked out from his place at the desk to stand side by side with the man in red, Campbell.
"That's enough for now. Get out. Let's give the man some time to actually think."
The Lord Regent waved his hand dismissively to the butcher, commanding him to leave.
The man obeyed and quickly packed up his equipment before leaving the room.
"Corvo, the Empress is dead, her daughter is hidden away, and no one will ever know the truth."
The Lord Regent spoke in his nasally voice that ground uncomfortably on Corvo's mind every time he heard it.
He stopped soon after, allowing Campbell next to him to speak.
"Yesss, unlucky you. Tomorrow you'll be executed, but it's for a good cause. This country needs strong leadership now—someone to guide the weak—and that's… that's where 'we' come in."
As he continued to speak, his scowl deepened even further, despite the visual impossibility of it, staring at Corvo with an indescribable hatred in his eyes.
Officially, this man was Thaddeus Campbell—the High Overseer.
He had always held an unusual hatred towards Corvo, and perhaps that had led to where they stood now.
Once again, the Lord Regent was quick to speak.
"There is nothing personal about this, even though you almost sank our plans. But it turned out well. You were in the wrong place at the right time, and…"
He paused dramatically, leaning closer into Corvo's face, a twisted smirk forming.
"Somebody had to take the fall."
He turned away with a pep in his step, leaving one last remark in a wistful tone.
"Goodbye, Corvo."
And that was the last thing Corvo heard before losing consciousness once again.
——
{Luke/Corvo POV}
Once again, I awaken from being knocked unconscious. A common occurrence spanning the past six months.
This time, I don't even bother sitting up, just staring at the ceiling of the cell I've been locked in.
I don't know if this is some elaborate illusion conjured up by my mind under the influence of psychedelics… but I've had enough. I feel like I'm on the verge of losing my mind.
siggggghhhh
Six months ago, when the body I was transported into was knocked unconscious after the death of the Empress, I gained full control of it after awakening.
This was proven useless quickly, though, as I didn't have any of Corvo's skill nor experience, so I couldn't even attempt escape.
Back in the real world, I've only just become an adult. I'm from the twenty-first century, where death is so detested that even self-defence can ruin your life.
I've never been particularly good at anything.
In short, I'm basically a loser.
And that loser was thrown into this situation.
The first two weeks were "light"… but constant. Ripping off fingernails, hanging me like a piñata, complete isolation.
After that, it got worse.
They cut me, skinned me, brought me to the brink of death every time. Only stopping when I was about to die.
Then they healed me with Sokolov's potion.
It wasn't instant.
But it worked.
And the feeling of your body stitching itself back together… is indescribable.
After a few rounds, something changed.
My mind and Corvo's started… merging.
His willpower became mine.
His instincts.
…his killer instinct.
But so did everything else.
His memories.
His emotions.
And now… the line between us is fading.
I need to escape.
I can't keep treating this like a game.
The pain is real.
And I don't know what happens if I die here.
——
{Narrator's POV}
From outside the cell, Corvo looked like a corpse lying on the stone bed.
Only the rise and fall of his chest proved otherwise.
Out of sight, a guard approached carrying a tray with bread.
"You should eat, Corvo. This meal comes from a friend."
He slid the tray inside and left.
'…..'
Eventually, Corvo moved, staring at the tray.
'All that courage, built up for nothing.'
He sighed, then picked up the note.
(Corvo,
Who we are is irrelevant right now. Just know we have faith in you. Here is the key to your cell.
Once you're out, head for the prison's interrogation room. Take the explosive there and plant it on the outer door. When the bomb goes off, run.
Make for the river and lose yourself in the sewers. You'll find gear stashed there. A guard will leave a weapon outside your cell.
Good luck. We need you alive. - A friend)
'A friend, ha.'
He didn't trust them.
But he needed them.
A hideout.
Equipment.
Power.
Revenge.
And Emily.
——
Word count: 1,446
EDITED