Chapter 21: 19 | death; to save yourself

[she has no use for the dead]

——xxx——

A room unfit for living things.

Rare glimpses of light that hardly crept through the cracks of the heavy metal door, crawling in and hopelessly being drowned away by the darkness.

The cloudy, unfiltered air clogged up one's nose, and the stripped away sounds could drive a person mad. Perhaps, thinking in another light, the lack of sight was a benefit rather than a drawback.

Lucas didn't want to imagine the splayed, dried stains and mold that likely filled the floors. He felt the biting cold, and the strange grooves and slices from the feet that had been stolen from their protection of shoes.

He'd been tossed inside, bound in chains, with nothing but his pants.

If that foolish weed, Elias, had been here, then they'd have made a flirtatious and ridiculous comment, without a doubt. 

Lucas paused, wondering why that thought inched into his mind.

Regardless, he glanced around futility before raising his head to stare into the darkness. Nietzsche once said, if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

A tickle of a laugh rested on his tongue. 

His fears couldn't consume him, when being consumed meant making his fears come true. If he died now, Kane would also perish.

That wouldn't be allowed.

He heard the drag of chains slither along the ground, the chopped and inconsistent breathing of something else in the room.

He saw the pulsing red, almost like a hallucination.

When sight was stripped away by black, all the other senses suddenly became much clearer. To a startling extent.

Goosebumps ran along his arms, and he resisted the urge to fall back. Although the first meeting with the Punisher had gone smoothly, he was now in that creature's domain.

Death.

One wrong move and it'd end even before things begun.

"You came here well aware of the consequences, didn't you?" The gruff, broken and weary voice reverberated around the small room.

Lucas closed his eyes, allowing his breath to settle.

"Unfortunately, I have no tricks up my sleeve."

A sharp crash whipped across his back without warning, and he lurched forward, a gasp choked out of him. There were likely an assortment of punishments set to give prisoners a gruesome, pointless death.

Getting flogged was a gift, when there were worse options.

'Endure.'

Another heavy slap over his muscles, and he arched his back as the first bloom of red burst across pale skin. Lucas staggered, and forced himself to raise his head.

If it were a regular human, or if the whip's edges weren't like jagged knives, he'd be able to endure for hours on end. 

"My first question." started the man slowly between breaths. "The location of the four Kings, and the Catalysts."

"You already know of them?"

"I... won't be the one answering questions today."

A wry chuckle echoed, and another crash on his leg this time. Lucas' knee buckled, but he didn't sit down. It would be worse, on his hands and knees as the whip rained cuts along his back.

And the floors were scratchy, designed to damage the torn skin that rubbed against it. 

Not to mention, the Punisher was no fool. He wouldn't listen to the ramblings of somebody who couldn't endure this much.

"You're looking for a particular King." stated the Punisher. "Excluding the abilities gained from Titles, the abilities gained from Exclusive Titles, such as the role of one of the Kings or a Title created solely because of one's outstanding achievements, are created based on each person."

"What do you... mean?"

"The Ace King."

Lucas' body tensed immediately, only jolting when another hit broke open his skin.

"A manipulative, secretive man that wears a smile on his face." The Punisher spoke as if he knew that man, impossible as it was. "He is able to manipulate thoughts. He can control, and use people."

"Mind control?"

"Essentially. He can make people think whatever he pleases. He can make a person want to help him, make somebody hate or love, or feel nothing at all."

It was a scary thought, thinking that one could easily be turned into a puppet dancing on a string.

"However, there's no such thing as an ability without consequence."

Lucas edged forward, even as he felt pain clouding his head. "What's the consequence?"

The Punisher stared questioningly at the man who suddenly seemed to gain some energy after hearing about the Ace King's weakness. 

He didn't feel like answering the question anymore.

Therefore, the confused torturer changed the topic. "The Spade King—the man is similar, but in a more unrefined way. If the Ace King toys with life like he's playing a game, the Spade King is a fool who uses others to survive. What he fears most is death."

Lucas was a little disappointed, but with his thoughts already spinning from blood-loss and pain, it wasn't worth pressing.

"His ability?"

"He can switch places with something within his view. A useful ability for somebody looking to evade death."

"And... location?"

"Lucky for you, it should be around the area where you live. If you make it out alive, you should be able to return before the Ranking starts."

"I see." He collapsed to one knee, gritting his teeth. "Next question."

"If you have a life-saving tool, you should use it soon, human. You are losing a severe amount of blood."

Thanks to whom, Lucas wanted to sarcastically ask, but he was already well-aware that the Punisher was simply carrying out the duty he'd been given.

Knowledge about the Spade King was already useful for fulfilling his deal with Wren, but it wasn't enough.

"Next... question."

"...go on."

"Tellers. What are they?"

The strange beings that watched over Stories, seeming to be responsible for creating the terrifying worlds that ensnared humanity.

The Punisher was silent for a moment, and no whips crashed onto Lucas' back. Finally, the other spoke in a slow, dragging tone. "They are those who have forsaken their world. To you, they are monsters of imagination and cruel design."

"What do you—"

"A waste of a question. They are what you have to kill to save your world, as they exist to prevent the apocalypse from ending. They're you're enemies, nothing more, nothing less."

"...next. The hidden way of clearing a Story."

A hint of bewilderment followed the Punisher's words. "Have you discovered the True Ending?" Then, a mocking and dry laugh. "That's a humane way of clearing a Story. Trying to understand a monster that doesn't wish to be understood, is there any point to it?"

Lucas was on both knees now, wheezing as he felt the hot slick of blood coat his back, and the quiet drip of both sweat and blood.

His head hurt. His body hurt. His mind, his back, his bones—it all screamed in agony.

He squeezed his eyes shut. 

What other questions does he need? The Punisher seemed to be more adverse to answering questions related to the purpose of the apocalypse, and not intending to provide further information about the Four Kings or the Catalysts.

He'd gotten some snippets of information. What else did he need? Think!

Power.

He needed power. Information to gaining the ability to face whatever came his way. He wracked his brain in search of memories or clues, hints from the novel he wrote. Some sections were foggy, as if being censored, hidden away from his eyes.

Stories. What about them?

Most Stories couldn't be left without completing the objecting, sealing away the world temporarily for a set duration. However, certain Stories were better described as 'locations' where people sought knowledge, equipment or other resources.

They were called 'City Stories', which could easily be escaped as long as they didn't anger the Teller of the world.

There was a City Story that Elias entered, gaining a large number of abilities that helped his reckless behaviour throughout the novel. Kane had followed after him, nearly losing his life in the process.

The Story of Tartarus.

A place of torment, suffering and darkness. However, even Tartarus harboured its own laws and life, and great power could be gained once inside.

Only, the location was unknown and Lucas couldn't remember how Kane found it. After all, his brother had followed that crazy man without knowing where he was going.

Thinking that, Lucas weakly growled out a single word. "Tartarus."

Wind rushed past him, and mangled hands gripped his shoulders roughly. The Punisher narrowed his ruby eye. "Why do you know of that place? How do you know what you know?"

Lucas' body felt limp and failed to respond properly. The peculiar habit of this man, was that the closer to death that he was, the more emotion he would show.

An airy laugh escaped his mouth.

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Lucas allowed his head to roll to the side lazily. "I said... I'm not answering... any... questions today."

"You humans are always—sigh, very well. The path you seek leads to nowhere but hell, and I will not stop you. Tartarus has certain requirements. Only a criminal may enter, one that holds more than ten lives on their backs and destined to kill many more."

Lucas dazedly thought that meant Kane and Elias both killed numerous amounts, but considering the circumstances, killing was something that a person needed to learn in such times.

"The easiest way to open that Story is by following a person who had opened it inside. One doesn't find Tartarus, it finds you. Only a person that had completely succumbed to their mind and found themselves in a completely unstable state can open the Story."

Elias had opened the Story. What could drive a man like that into a state of disorganized weakness?

A sliver of curiosity burrowed itself into Lucas' mind.

"I am curious to see if somebody like you could fall that terribly." The Punisher dropped Lucas, and the latter fell to the ground in a moment. "A sane person could never enter that place. Even if they tried following somebody else inside."

The words were getting blurry now, sounding like a jumble that Lucas strained to decipher and organize. The pain made it hard to think as he grasped for understanding.

[Ha, aren't you pretty damn pathetic right now?]

The words cut through his suffering, settling right in the front of his mind. Lucas scowled. 'Wren.'

[Before you do anything like, hm, asking why I've been silent this whole time is 'cause I've been observing you. If you'd die this quickly, then our contract is void.]

'I... wasn't going to ask.'

[Huh?]

'I forgot you were there.'

[.....hey, hey. I could potentially save your life right now, you know that, don't you? Your head's also throbbing like crazy, don't you know it's affecting me up here too? I don't like headaches unless they're because I'm drunk and lonely.]

She continued to ramble, and Luca successfully zoned out. The darkness of the room didn't help his fading conscious, but he understood that no more questions could be asked.

He was dying.

'Then save me.'

[So demanding.] Then a loud, obnoxious laugh erupted in his head before abruptly cutting short. [I'm not going to save you, Lucas Silvius.]

'...what a useless contract.'

[Says the dying person? I'm sure you have a way to survive, don't you? Hey, tell you what.]

'...what?'

He wanted the conversation to hurry up and finish. The Punisher couldn't eternally keep hitting him, and once he was nothing but a corpse, his body would be tossed out of the room.

In other words, the punishment ended when the prisoner was dead.

[If you can't survive this, I'll steal your body and live in your name.]

'Are you crazy?'

[Yeah, obviously. You don't really have a say in this, but if you prove to me that you can survive this, I'll trust you.] Her words simmered, growing solemn. 

[I need to be able to trust you.]

He remembered. The betrayal Wren faced in the past wasn't something distinctly explained, but it had forced her into the role of the Joker, binding the woman to the apocalypse against her will.

Presently, Lucas was nothing more than a trial run, an experiment of sorts. If he couldn't survive, then he wasn't a person worth protecting.

He shook her words out of his head, focusing on the blurring shadow crouched in front of him. Did the room get a little lighter? He could've sworn the shadows had covered the entire area before.

The loss of blood was messing with his head.

"You are..." The Punisher gazed deeply at the prisoner, collapsed on his knees while struggling to tether his mind to consciousness. Better than most, who cried and begged, collapsing within minutes.

Of course, there were no snapping fingers, or slow, gruesome torture this time. Although there was certain to be broken bones, and blooming bruises in every piece of skin untorn.

The creature couldn't help but wonder how far this person would go, and what sort of change they'd force upon reality.

However, that man also seemed to attract a lot of dangerous people and things into his life, truly a person with incredible bad luck. Whether the world became another prey to the apocalypse, or broke free of the cycle, it couldn't be determined.

"I'd be pleased if you survived past the end. Although your death wouldn't be terrible either, depending on the choice you make."

Blurred eyes, rasping breaths. The Punisher didn't know if the man could hear even a vowel of the words he spoke.

"Don't go getting betrayed by those close to you." warned the Punisher nevertheless, sighing and contorting his wrinkled, broken skin. "I hope you can survive, Lucas Silvius."

[Why don't I show you how powerful your ability is, my dear card bond?]

Lucas' eyes snapped open, wide and alert with a sliver of red and purple mixing into his snowy gaze. 

The Punisher jerked back, the darkness rapidly filling the room once again.

His consciousness had long left, at the very edge of death. He wouldn't be able to stop Wren from controlling his body, but there was no time to worry about that. He needed to use the lifesaving item before it was too late.

With the trickles of alertness left, his thumb numbly glided over the bracelet.

[Hey, what are you—]

"Lady Justice." He whispered in a low rasp, struggling for control over his own voice. "I wish to make a trade."

His bloody, mangled body begun to fall forward.

As if a flip was switched, Lucas completely disappeared from his mind as Wren consumed him entirely, lost and confused as she did. If Lucas died and she could use his body, that would be plenty beneficial on its own.

Humans could only go so far, betting on empty promises. She never expected him to survive for long, though...

...she'd thought, possibly, a person with that much determination driving him would last a little longer.

Before Lucas' body could hit the ground, his arm jerked and twisted before slamming against the ground. The Punisher looked at the 'man' wearily, caution burning in his remaining bones.

"You are not Lucas." stated the Punisher steadily.

Wren lifted the head, grinning wickedly. It was a strange sight to see on a usually impassive face, bringing out the cheekiness that seemed slight and faded. The body's limbs twisted, cracking back into place while blood continued to drip.

"No, I'm not." She smiled, feeling the pain burn into the skin, reminding her of memories from the past. "I'm better, obviously."

"...what did you do?"

"Punisher, didn't you do this? His death isn't related to me."

The other refused to accept the situation, a scowl fitted onto his lopsided lips. "I do not believe that man would die from this."

"Sucks for you then, doesn't it?" Wren shrugged, rolling her shoulders as she forced the body to stand up. Bleeding, broken skin and bruises—not a sliver clear or uninjured.

It'd work, for now. She'd abandon the body if it was destroyed too much.

Wren flexed the fingers, scowling at the surprising sturdiness despite Lucas' pale appearance. Did he work out? She glanced at the scars along his arm, old ones that could be seen under the layers of blood.

Old scars. Somebody who got involved in fights often. Whatever the case, he was dead and it didn't matter.

"Won't you die for me, Punisher?"

A grin stretched out upon her lips before she lunged forward, a black sheen painting over the sharpened nails that nicked at the metal chains. A condensed cloud of darkness suddenly entrapped her, blocking her from seeing.

A loud laugh rang through as she sliced through it. "So that's your ability! All the better!"

The Punisher avoided another hit. "Why are you determined to kill me? For revenge?"

"No way, why would I take revenge for him? I just like your ability."

"...ability?"

"You know how it goes!" laughed the woman aloud, a strange combination of two voices merged into one due to her possession of Lucas' body. "Don't go around underestimating a joker!"

A myriad of colours danced across the air like a hallucination, flickers of rainbow warping into sharp needles. The Punisher widened his eyes; Wren grinned.

The fight was over in a matter of moments.

From the ground, with several dozen wide holes oozing blood, the Punisher closed their eyes peacefully. "Do you seek revenge on one of the Kings?"

"....." She crouched down, no longer smiling. "I heard everything that he asked from you. I have enough information."

"I see. And after your vengeance, what will you do?"

She paused, her face collapsing for a moment. Often, when the only thing driving a person to live was vengeance, they'd lose their meaning after. Yet, she couldn't die while preserved with the Joker Title.

Had Lucas lived, she'd have tagged along on whatever craziness he'd commit until she grew bored.

"Do you regret letting him die?" The Punisher asked knowingly. 

Lucas was an opportunity to not only find revenge, but have a temporary goal after.

Regardless, Wren shook her head, standing up and walking to the door. The darkness had been swallowed into the Punisher's body, and she could clearly see the gorey state of the walls and floor in the windowless room.

She rested a hand on the handle, easily slicing through the chains blocking it. A rainbow needle flickered in the air, appearing over the Punisher's heart.

It crashed down, and she pushed the door open.

"I don't need somebody who can't save themselves."

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