《Bloody Awakening》


 The Barons Bloody Goblet

    The Baron''s Bloody Goblet. That was the name given to the blood soaked lands of the valley where a terrible faction of practitioner''s resided. The name and thus the infamy of the Bloody Baron and his band of flesh seekers had spread far and wide within the region. One could even hear the screams of his cattle throughout the nearby lands, the constant screams. The never-ending screams.


    The fort of the Baron was carved into a large crater with an immense castle spreading over the roof of the open structure as if it had been nestled on top by the Gods themselves. Inside the crater was filled with a blood so viscous that it might be more fitting to call it ''molten''. Dotted about the sheer cliffs of the crater were small hovels. Holes in the dirt that housed his preferred meats. There they grew, fattened up for their eventual slaughter.


    Each and every one of his meals were forced into exercise that would ensure the meat was of the correct quality. For if even one iota of the meal was missing in its perfection. If the meat that graced his palate was not marbled to a perfect state... It was best not to think of that eventuality.


    But in this world who can blame the Baron and his band?


    Who could appropriately deliver any such justice?


    Justice?


    What justice was there to deliver here?


    In a world of resources; what is there to demonize of a man that has taken it upon himself to partake in the feast?


    When a man''s appetite has limits and his strength is correlated to the very foundation of his meals. You could say it was only right that he took these steps. If the Baron were to ever balk in the face of these choices, if he were to fear their implication...


    Who''s to say it wouldn''t be him on the chopping block next?


    A raucous laughter emerged from the inner dining room of the large castle. The sound of cutlery scraping against porcelain as each and every member of the band of the baron sheared meat from their steak. Engorging themselves on each and every morsel and washing it down with the wine by their side.


    From the very entrance of the room to the back of the room at the head of the table. Sequentially the amount of meat, its grade, the marbling, even the progeny of the cattle from which it preceded. It was all calculated and measured approximate to the increasing ranks. The closer to the door a member was, the closer they were to the Baron''s bloody goblet, yet they were deprived of meat more than any other. As if being egged on by the smell of flesh and wine would encourage better performance.


    A few steps up the long winding table were seated ranks with a paltry steak set in front and wooden cups with the bare minimum of wine to fill it. This wasn''t for the lack of resources. No. That wasn''t important. It was a message. If you want more then reach further up this table. Become a member deserving of the privilege to eat.


    Nearing the top of the table the goblets increased in volume, content and opulence. Instead of shoddy cups they drank from the finest ornery in the valley. Magnificent silver''s and gold''s with jewels embroidered into the fine craftsmanship. The wine redder, with a luster that enraptured each and every guest at the dinner table. The meat practically rolled off the plate, there was no need for a plate anymore, frankly it was more than they could hope to stomach. But that in itself was a task given to the strong. If they ever hoped to reach ever greater heights like the Baron before them then they must stomach it. They must engorge on the feast before them, leave nary a crumb and never spit it back up.


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    And at the very head of the table, there he sat. The Bloody Baron himself. The leader of this gang of flesh harvesters.


    He was a ridiculously large man, so much so that even the throne he had resized for the umpteenth time was still constricting his movements. His skin was cracked and bubbling beneath the surface, eyes sunken into his face, yet they were impossibly alert and alive. The brilliant blood red of his irises penetrated past the mortal shell and to the soul, as if he could taste the very essence of an individual just by a single look. The Baron was an ugly man, so much so that he was often thought of as inhuman, something different more akin to a demon or monster than any sort of living thinking creature.


    Despite his stature and appearance the Bloody Baron was not incapable of combat. Far from it.


    Even though he appeared more reminiscent of a fleshy blob than any kind of human the Baron was a force of nature. His voice moved mountains, a wave of a hand could demolish stone and his control over the bloody goblet beneath this very castle made him a man to be feared in every corner of this region.


    Yes, truly he was inhuman in both character and features. Yet he did not even try to hide this fact. If anything it appeared that he took pride in this aspect of his character. His flesh bursting, the hammy digits of each of his appendages, the blisteringly red skin that covered his entire form. All of it was an image, an indicator that this man had achieved a divine status among practitioners. He was becoming something more than human. His understanding of the element and more than anything the amount he has consumed over the years, the decades of toil, planning and conflict had led him finally to this point. He was reaching it soon. It was only a matter of time. This fleshy cocoon would soon gestate, burst, and he would be born anew.


    A year, two, ten, twenty? What did it matter? All he had to do was continue governing this self running farm, ensure the subordinates didn''t blunder heavily and keep an eye out on the horizon for any incoming threats. And then at the end of it. Ascension. He would merge with the element, his soul becoming crystallized, intertwined with the element itself. He would no longer be the mere Bloody Baron. No, he would be the essence of blood and flesh. The incarnation of life.


    For generations they would tell the story of how the Bloody Baron''s Goblet became the crucible for the forging of a new God. A God of blood and flesh. That which man was made in the image of.


    A God of flesh and blood had not joined the consort of elements for near eons. And it was no wonder why.


    In a world dictated by resources; that which is abundant is necessarily worth less. Flesh is cheap, gems are precious. That had been the understanding of this world for a long time. A Baron of blood, a practitioner of such immense power and influence was not thought of as possible, an exercise in theory never a practical thought. Yet for the last two centuries this valley and the surrounding regions have come to know the name and power of the Bloody Baron.


    The story was one of legend and despite the fact it took place in the modern day, mortals alive today had even witnessed the uprising of his very kingdom firsthand. It was still untenable.


    To become a cultivator of blood and flesh required immense amounts of time, appetite and resources. The very fact that the Baron of Blood was a man that came from nothing, a simple orphan of a land long gone. Of a time passed by. And he had managed to amass this well... natural goblet. This crucible of blood and flesh was a testament to the time and meticulous planning he had become known and feared for. But that was a story for another time.


    Our story begins with the inconvenient waking of the Baron during just one fateful meal...

 Bloody Resources

    Meal time for any spiritual practitioner was sacred. A time to consolidate their foundations, to prepare their stomach and soul for the incoming resources that would help them grow and develop from humans into much more powerful beings. Beings made of fire, ice, lightning, stone, gems. All manner of material could be processed by the body and the Bloody Baron and his fiefdom of bloodthirsty hounds was no exception.


    Human cultivators. They followed the flesh path. Meaning they must intake various substances related to that field of study.


    Each and every cultivator was the same and yet different in that way. Some specialized in bone, others in skin, flesh or even muscle. But the Bloody Baron himself was the harbinger of blood. He bathed in it, drank it by the gallon and marveled in its beauty. To him the luster of a crimson wine was more beautiful than any jewel, much more enamoring than any mortal beauty. Instead of jade beauties and beautiful princesses'' he would break apart that exterior and see just how beautiful they were on the inside.


    Jade and gold be damned, he wanted to see a world dyed in entrails. And have control over every centimeter of it. That he would.


    Youngsters thought of the Baron''s Bloody Goblet as a natural formation of the land, the castle placed atop by human labor. But the crater, the sheer cliffs and even the molten blood at the bottom were all a fixture from eons passed.


    They were wrong.


    It was said that the Baron spent multiple years in his youth as a novice practitioner punching, kicking and digging further into the earth. At the time they thought of him as mad, wasting his time digging to an early grave.


    The Baron however, had a different vision. The sight which his cattle now looked upon in wonder and fear. This crater was formed with intention, each and every hovel in the surrounding cliffs formed a network of complex tunnels allowing for a civilization to exist even in the recesses of the mountains.


    He had immense recurring visions of himself, looking down on a crucible of blood, standing at the top as a God made of flesh.


    All those years ago that was what he had dreamed.


    Starting as a nobody in a land long forgotten, with no inheritance or allies of his own. To the first step of his long cultivation... He still remembered the taste of her. His first meal. What was he supposed to do? Leave resources alone? To avoid the path of strength? Circumstance asked it of him and he obliged readily.


    Those years were tough. Imbibing the flesh of others, avoiding capture and death from those he had wronged. It was a tiresome, gruesome ordeal until the Baron had firmly stepped onto the first rung of the ladder.


    A self-sustaining supply of meat. So long as he managed it well then he could almost certainly ascend to Godhood.


    Then came the bloodthirsty hounds of the Baron. Originally they all stood at a similar stature. There was no pecking order established yet, for the flesh cultivators often had lacking foundations. That all changed over the course of a quick decade. Cattle reproduced and became feedstock for the group, they ate meat no matter the quality. The quantity alone would provide them with quick results, even if their cultivation took a few steps back in the future it was all worth it for this moment. They ate and ate and ate. Becoming strong enough to be noticed as a threat.


    That was the beginning of the Goblet''s creation. Several generation after it''s creation the original progeny of the cattle was now onto its umpteenth generation of offspring and they would continue to mass produce until he had reached that level. Until the fleshy cocoon of a being not quite monster or man gestated and a God emerged from inside.


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    Only, he never planned to be absent before that time arrived.


    ---


    Let''s take a step back.


    Perhaps you''ve heard this story before or perhaps you''ve even met the person I''m describing. He isn''t a good person, he isn''t a particularly skilled person. He isn''t even someone people like to be around. He was for lack of better understanding; a good-for-nothing.


    That wasn''t because he lacked in material possessions, earnings, looks etc. etc.


    The job he held, the place he lived, even the woman that he had married. They were all exquisite. On paper this man was what you should aspire to be, he was living the life, the dream...


    Who''s dream?


    He was hollow. Engaged in vices simply out of lack of restraint and boredom more than anything else.


    He used his advantages against people whenever he could. Not out of some need for an improvement in social status or even because it served a purpose, it simply amused him when he trod on other people. Gripped with narcissism and a god-complex this man was no joy and brought no happiness to the people that surrounded him.


    So much so that eventually there was no one left.


    People interacted with this man out of convenience and necessity. And he knew it.


    The job he held wasn''t important in any grand scheme, he didn''t need to be the one in that position either. It fell into his lap because he was unafraid to do what others were. Throughout the admittedly short career of this man more than a hundred employees had been wrongfully discarded by his hand alone. It was a weekly occurrence when a member of staff would be called to his office and chastised. Harassment during office hours, unlogged overtime. These were the guiding principles of his employment.


    The ''friends'' he had were more of his people. They were only present for the benefits of knowing someone in a high position. You may think to yourself; good they understand each other''s goals, surely that means they can get along to a degree?


    Wrong.


    He and his ilk hated the world and the people that inhabited it. But more than anything they hate themselves.


    Even with that God-complex they held the opposite belief system in scrutiny. They were inferior to the same people they mocked. They could never admit it though. Change was scary. Throw away power? Why would I do such a thing? What if I can''t defend myself? What if I get hurt?


    A smart man had once stated; "Well if you''re so smart, then why are you so unhappy?"


    To which this person would tout his worldly possessions. The watch he wore, the belt which rest snugly against his waist. Ties and shirts with expensive labels, a briefcase monogrammed with his own initials on it. Flaunting wealth and expensive things, but that''s all they were; objects without real meaning.


    When refuted he would point to his successes, he was in good shape; men would be jealous of his looks and figure, whilst women would covet his affections.


    But if that were the case; why would a happily married man need the affections of other women?


    To this he would laugh and jibe. But it was obvious why.


    He cultivated his strength and looks to attract attention and admiration from others, even if he didn''t know them. He engaged in frivolous sexual activity behind the back of his spouse because there was no love in their marriage. He wore expensive suits to signal to others that he was someone of importance. When really this world and it''s inhabitants didn''t care for him.


    Whilst he was self-serving, he was a a slave to desire. A slave to the whims of the public. Though he derided and stomped on the pride of those beneath him, he had forgotten to realise that he was always looking downwards longingly.


    Resources.


    Whether it was this world or a different one entirely, they were treated as the be all end all. You couldn''t simply make enough money to live, nor could you be average looking, you couldn''t enjoy meaningless things. There had to be a reason for every one of your actions. You always had to be doing better, after all more is better isn''t it?


    Perhaps that will allow the man to succeed in this world too.


    He was truly successful in that world, wasn''t he?


    He was a slave to desire and whims of the world before... Let''s see; how will a man who coveted gold, jewelry and lust act in a world where flesh is cheap? In the Baron''s Bloody Goblet where his only sustenance shall be the remains of the cattle he stands atop.


    I wonder...

 Blood Bath

    Deep within the recesses of the Baron''s Bloody Castle, the sound of a gong erupted. The loud ringing echoed what seemed to be endlessly in the Goblet. The waves of sound bouncing around the crater entering the hovels and depriving every single piece of cattle of their previous screams.


    This was the only time that silence came to the valley. Meal time was to be undisturbed. There was always a grace period before indulging in a meal. To eat was fortuitous. To eat was holy and should be cherished no matter the path each cultivator followed.


    For anyone to disturb a meal was a high offence. Cultivators of great standing, vagrants of lost paths. All lose confidence at the idea of interrupting a meal lest they set the entire world''s eyes upon themselves.


    What was once a deafening valley of screams and sorrow became a silent crucible. The only noises reminiscent of their location was the constant sloshing of the molten blood filling the Goblet.


    Each and every member of the Baron''s estate, cattle and his loyal flesh seeking hounds all the same would sit and eat. The cattle in their hovels and the Baron''s men in their opulent thrones, eating rich meals, enamoured with their resources.


    Even without the watchful eyes of the Baron''s men; each and every piece of future meat would sit obediently in their designated hole. Using what little time they could to pretend they were human once again. Seated with family, eating a meal. Attempting to forget the leashes forced around their necks as the minimum vestiges of humanity was returned to them for this brief moment.


    Even slaves were allowed the opportunity to eat, even if it was just to fatten them up for their inevitable slaughter.


    To run or attempt escape despite the lack of eyes on them was futile. That was the design of the Goblet. The purpose of the molten blood within the crater. The reason they had leashes emblazoned with the Baron''s own blood. He could track each and every unit of his herd, as soon as they left the reaches of this crater of the Goblet...


    The depth of this crater reached such a level where the earth actively superheated the blood above it. Forming a red hot crucible of the Baron''s own design. And as it was blood, it was fully under his control, with a flexibility so immaculate each and every drop of blood may as well be a limb that he could freely manipulate.


    Once. Just once had the Baron made full use of this system.


    Death on a grand scale.


    The entire network of interlaced tunnels that formed the hovels for cattle was flooded with that molten blood. Each and every body added to the immense sea that rested at the bottom of the crater. And the only difference...


    The only difference was the sea level rising. A permanent reminder to the new cattle that their ''lives'' could come to an end even sooner than they thought.


    It may have taken years to recover that herd. But what was a cultivator if not patient? A year, two, ten, twenty, a century? It didn''t matter.


    There were always benefits to these things. His cattle may have been reduced in number, but the Goblet had grown in size. Blood was his essence and his power, with more of it he was even more untouchable.


    Like that it was unanimously decided that escape was futile, this was the best life could get for them. If the cattle didn''t want their families to die they would persist. The small promise of uninterrupted meals and hovels, they were given the most meagre scraps of humanity and told to make do. And they did.


    Meals were never interrupted again.


    The cattle lived in abject misery, each and every piece of flesh waiting for the ringing of the gong. The signal for their cries to stop and when they could become humans once again, not meat.


    Just as the cattle looked forward to their own peace, the cultivator''s looked forward to this meal, this opportunity to seize more power, consolidate their cultivation and move even one seat up the table. For the chance to eat the more perfect meat, the better wine, to move ever towards the Baron where they would receive even more resources. They would offer better cuts of meat, gifts and resources to the great leader of their Bloody Band. This day was no different.


    A bloody steak sat in front of the Baron, a cut of meat of such size it didn''t seem fitting for a human to engorge themselves upon it. It was more fitting for a creature of legend or some sort of leviathan to eat. All the same; more and more of the juicy, marbled flesh found its way into his stomach until the meal that trumped any of the other plates was fully devoured. It was a meal of such grand proportions that you could add the plates of each and every one of his subordinates together and their combined volume would still pale in comparison.


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    The Baron was unique in many ways, one of which was his insatiable hunger.


    This was said to be a blessing from some fortuitous God. What greater advantage is there in this world of resources, where strength was dictated by appetite but for the stomach to be bottomless?


    The meal time was reaching a natural end. Meat had been gorged, the wine drank to its finish and finally it came time to pay tribute to the Baron.


    The extravagance of these gifts became more elaborate and thus the members were given more prestige. They could move up the table, further their intake and grow ever stronger.


    "O'' Great Baron. I humbly request you give me the greatest privilege of offering you this band of courtesans I happened across." Each and every member of the Baron''s estate were bemused. Such great fortune. How could one so weak ever manage such a feat?


    It was simple good fortune. That was the difference between life and death in this world. As much as strength, cultivation, manpower and your environment were important, they could be overturned at a moment''s notice. Why do you think the Baron had remained holed up in his Goblet for the past 2 centuries?


    Even the strong could perish. Why risk destruction? Why risk the possibility of death, when he could easily bide his time in his home territory, eating and eating until he eventually ascended.


    No, the Baron had no need or desire to travel. That was the job of his lackeys. Of the bloodthirsty flesh seekers that did his bidding. They would travel the valley and surrounding regions, bearing gifts to their lord to increase their own status.


    This man was the same. His name was unimportant. Without strength and cultivation who would care of his name. They had no reason to grace their eyes with his appearance. Perhaps this gift would change that view. That was what he had hoped.


    The man offering this exquisite banquet was not particularly strong, no he was seated halfway along the table. Yet, he had managed to get his hands on a travelling troupe of a courtesan company known as the Swan''s Grace. They were bemoaned throughout the lands as beauties of such a high caliber that even setting eyes on their pearlescent skin and jewel-like eyes could bring about a climax.


    Courtesans were not allowed to cultivate. This was both a precaution and an attempt to conserve the beauty of their figure. Cultivating to a certain level would change the body structure, those that chose gems and rocks would eventually harden and their skin would lose that supple texture which men craved. Those that turned to fire and ice were uncomfortable for partnership due to their extreme temperatures. Of course there were special companies that adapted and catered to these proclivities, to the perversions of certain individuals. But that was besides the point.


    Courtesans were made to be powerless. It was an assurance that no harm could come to the customer. The number of cultivators that had been killed at the hands of a courtesan in the past was incalculable. With the passing of time, the people changed in turn.


    But that was history. The courtesans in this room, the ones being offered up to the Baron had no interest in the history of the world right now. They were saying their last prayers.


    The Baron had never taken a woman. He didn''t care for it.


    He seen all flesh as meat that covered the true prize. More blood.


    No matter the beauty or prestige of a person he had always seen them as a walking piece of meat. ''Humans were animals at the end of the day'' is what he would say.


    That was why these women already knew.


    Whilst other men would lay with the., bathe with them. Enjoy their company and send them on their way. Or in worst case scenario, take them as brides or concubines regardless of their own desires.


    This man would only bathe in the entrails of each and every one of them. Ripping apart their limbs, cracking the rib cage open to see what contained inside. To see if they were as beautiful on the inside as they were on the outside.


    The whole troupe of women, some twenty beautiful gems were ushered into a tiled room. Akin to a large bathhouse, only there was no running water in the entire room. They were left to roam freely as the doors were slowly closed behind. It was a completely empty room, blank like a canvas waiting to be painted. Save for the troupe of courtesans scattered in the large open room and the arrival of a single gigantic person...


    The grotesque figure of the Baron shed of all clothing with a greedy look in his eye.


    ---


    The last woman was before him, his meaty grasp completely covering her neck, if he wanted he could snap her neck between two of his oversized fingers. Instead he slowly added pressure as her eyes became devoid of more and more light.


    Slowly, but surely she was passing. He always watched over these final moments as a reminder. Every time this sort of gift came his way, he ended it the same way. Each and every time. It was never the prettiest woman in the troupe. No, it was always the one that reminded him most of his first meal. As if to never forget the choice he made all those years ago. The Baron remembers.


    The last vestiges of her life were about to leave... But then something unexpected occurred.


    The Baron jerked in surprise, snapping the neck immediately.


    His gargantuan body slipped on the slick matted blood all over the floor. The once poised, dangerous look in his eyes was now wary, bewildered, scared even.


    His gaze scanning the room, his body, his hands and the corpse before him.


    Breathing rate rapidly increasing as his body quivered.


    SLOSH!


    Meat from his ridiculous sized meal is blown onto the floor in chunks. A huge smattering of blood added to the already red room.


    The Baron fainted, his face covered in the blood he had just ejected from his own entrails. The greatest failure of a cultivator. Not once had the Baron ever vomited. This was the first time. The first sign of a great paradigm shift.

 Human Resources

    The same routine day after day.


    Wake. Share pointless conversation with the people around me. Work. Shit. Exercise. Network. Find a new partner for the night. Then repeat. And repeat.


    And repeat.


    And...


    I had never struggled for intimacy. The job I had, the material I possessed. Everything I owned, allowed me to easily succeed where others may have trouble. It wasn''t as if I was never rejected, in the past I had been. I just quickly realised the futility of even trying at that juncture in my life. Then I adapted.


    This world relied upon transaction for services. Intimacy was just another service.


    Even if you didn''t put yourself up for sale, even if you balked at the idea of being bought. Every single human had a price for their purchase.


    Ironically enough, the more money and material wealth I possessed, the less I had to actually use it for these favors. Whether it was money or something else, in the end it was all an exchange of some immaterial thing. If it wasn''t money then they would ask for my affections. Or hope to become a mistress, some even asked to be my partner. If they worked under me or a subsidiary they might request greater positions in the company etc. etc. etc.


    It didn''t really matter at the end of the day. Because I would be reset the moment dusk turned to dawn. A new day. What a joke of a phrase, every day was the same.


    It felt empty. What was I even living for?


    By all rights; I was exceeding the goals I had set for myself. Money, property, connections, power, influence and women. It was all mine.


    Soon enough even these acts of intimacy became dreadfully boring. Even if it was a different person it was all the same in the end. Just the meeting of flesh. Once you''ve felt it once, twice, ten, twenty, a hundred times. It loses the novelty that it once held.


    That was when I had begun experimenting with all manner of things.


    It wasn''t exactly a conscious decision, I kind of fell into it. Living the kind of lifestyle that I did; all sorts of new experiences were offered to you on a daily basis. When disillusioned with the world around you what choice is there but to turn to fantasy? That was how my dependency on substances came about. Drink, narcotics, you name it I had probably already tried it. Then greedily devoured it from the source until there was nothing left.


    A fateful day occurred when I had another of those intimate encounters, whilst in the middle of a drug fueled deluge. It changed me. The sensations I felt at those moments, I was no longer the same man in the same dreary world. I felt. Felt much more clearly than ever before in this world. I felt in control of myself, my life, and the woman right in front of me.


    Slowly my hands grasped the soft, svelte flesh of her neck and squeezed. Our entire bodies constricted and shook with ecstasy. A hazy mist in her eyes as she looked back up at me. There was nary a sound coming from her mouth, no rebuttals, no reprimands. She simply bit her lip and allowed me to drive myself back into her once more.


    That''s it, that''s how it should be. That''s how it will always be.


    It became more of the same after that. I couldn''t understand why... But whenever I indulged in those substances and then in the act itself, the very moment I felt the small circumference of another woman''s thin neck in my grasp. It brought me delight. More than any amount of the act itself.


    In that moment even my monstrous tendencies were accepted. Anything would be accepted so long as I was the one to do it... I truly am on the top of the world aren''t I?


    It didn''t even matter what I did...


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    Unconsciously my grip tightened around her neck even further, for the first time since I had ever practiced this dark perversion, genuine fear was laden on my partner''s face. Her hot steamy breaths hit me directly, massaging my skin even under the brunt of my force.


    Choking and heaving filled the room. Her arms flailed uselessly against my body, her legs attempting to kick me away. So weak. So, so weak.


    ...


    What the hell am I doing?! Breaking out of my stupor and releasing the neck of this stranger, I just looked uselessly at the wall. Wondering if I was insane... Was my life over?


    Fin-...


    ...She apologized to me. The same stranger in this random hotel bed, the very same that I gripped by the neck and choked the life out of... She looked at me in a hurried manner and bowed to me.


    "I''m sorry, I won''t fight back this time!"


    ...That''s right. That''s just how it is.


    I sent her away with a fee. More than I would usually give to someone that provided this service...


    That night was the first time I had stayed at my own house in what would''ve been months. I had lived in and out of hotels and my place of work for so long that my own home may as well be a stranger''s. All to avoid any more contact with that which resided there.


    "Dear, you''re back. It''s good to see your face. How was work?" There it was. Awake even at this hour. As if she had already known I would return. But I knew the truth...


    I couldn''t stand to look at her. Casting aside my shoes and immediately walking past to the living room. I immediately lay across the sofa, my eyes zoned in on the ceiling. She followed me even here, like some sort of loyal dog. Persistently staying beside her master at all times.


    "It''s quite late but would you like me to run a bath, or perhaps you haven''t eaten yet?"


    Stop! Just stop it. Please! It''s already past midnight, what the hell are you doing here? Go away already!


    I didn''t please her with a response. I wouldn''t. Turning on my side, I at least didn''t have to bear looking at her face.


    "...I see. If you''re tired do make sure you get some rest. I''ll go bed now, do ask if you need anything. Goodnight, dear." Good riddance.


    Finally, some peace and quiet.


    Seriously, that woman... who is she putting all this on for?


    I return at this time at night and you''re all smiles. How are you doing, dear? How''s work? Want a bath? Shall I make you something?


    Why are we pretending this is anything different than what it is?


    This marriage is a joke.


    We both know it, so why do we have to keep up this ruse? How long do I have to do it before you understand?


    I''m just so... unbelievably tired.


    If I could actually fall asleep on this couch I would. But I felt the need to sleep in my own bed. I mean it''s my house anyway, I can go sleep wherever I please! The only annoyance was having to share that bed with her... Our marital bed.


    What a joke.


    When was the last time we had slept in the same covers, never mind doing anything more than that?


    I can''t even remember.... And now I have to sleep right beside that thing, again?


    ...Whatever. I just need rest.


    Clambering up the stairs, my hands fumbling along the banister as I eventually made my way to the master bedroom. There she was, the light still on. Wearing a nightie as if she had already assumed I would make my way up here. Or was she just hoping for it? Always following after me, it was as if she licked the footprints I made in the dirt just for a chance to be next to me...


    Revolting.


    "Ah, I''ll turn the light off in just a moment. I don''t mean to disturb your sleep, dear." She finished jotting a few things down in her notepad, a journal of sorts, and set it aside. The same diary and the same habit she had for years now. Just like the disappointment in my life it was a constant. This world could flip upside down and she would still be writing about it in that little notebook of hers.


    I didn''t want to deal with her antics for another second. Silently ambling to my side of the bed, entering the soft linens and preparing for sleep to take me, just for a brief moment. A brief moment before the day begins again and this hell continues.


    "Goodnight dear. Sweet dreams."


    CHUU~


    It was automatic.


    My arm sprang out as if defending myself and immediately grasped around the neck, the small ever so tender neck, of my wife. Tighter and tighter, my hands had turned to vices and I had no idea how to revert them. I didn''t know if I even wanted them to...


    "HOW LONG?! HOW LONG WILL YOU ACT LIKE THIS?!"


    "HOW LONG DO I HAVE TO KEEP DOING THIS?! JUST LET ME..."


    "JUST LET ME REST, GODDAMNIT!"


    It all exploded out at once, my grip strengthening through the unfiltered rage. Until I felt something warm touch my face. A hand. Her hand.


    "WHAT... do you want from me... For god''s sake..."


    "...Dear, yo...u''re cry...ing..." Even as I continued strangling the life out of her she didn''t put up the slightest sign of a struggle. I was squeezing harder than in that room. When that girl had clawed at my skin, kicked the sheets off of the bed and tried to remove herself from me... Meanwhile, she wouldn''t move a muscle. Her eyes were focused on me, even now they were impossibly bright. God, how I hated that...


    Why are you doing this to me? Why are you still here? Everyone else has already left, why do you continue...


    Her thumb smoothly brushed the tears away even as her breathing failed. I closed my eyes out of reflex more than anything...


    So warm, I felt so warm...


    Then the whole world turned red.

 Bloody Rain

    The hand that was resting on my cheek was replaced with a fresh coat of liquid. Red droplets dripping from my face onto the tiled floor. Joining with the crimson sea that washed along what used to be a vast sterile bathroom. I couldn''t feel it anymore. Her hand was no longer there to wipe these crimson tears...


    And in my hand, if that even was a hand... The contorted remains of what once must have been a woman. In my confusion my hand jerked back, the overbearing weight and strength of it completely destroyed what remained of her body.


    My ears were ringing. Was I making any noise? I could feel my mouth opening and closing, yet always remaining slightly ajar. But for the life of me, I could not hear a single scream. Just the ever present red world that was painted before me. As much as I didn''t want to look at this sight, I couldn''t tear my eyes away from it.


    I killed her.


    Bile rose from the depths of my stomach, burning my windpipe and throat. A large amount of red viscous fluid as well as meat of some kind expelled all over the pretty tiles of the bathroom. My mind, my consciousness was leaving me. I collapsed into that putrid puddle of my own remains and lost my bearings.


    What was that...? At the last moment, what was she trying to say?


    My face was reflected in the blood scattered around the room.


    Impossibly brutish and ugly. Was I in denial all this time? This must''ve been what I really looked like, some monster made of meat, not a human.


    Revolting.


    That was my last thought, before my consciousness was reaped.


    ---


    The Baron''s Bloody Goblet was almost central when considering the region it inhabited. This vast land that was unanimously decided as the Baron''s territory was often referred to as the Scarlet Valley.


    The constant bubbling of the molten blood in the Baron''s Bloody Goblet caused the evaporation of a great amount of blood over time. This caused the sky to darken and create clouds of crimson smoke and vapor. It was often that a crimson rain crossed the rolling fields and mountains, dyeing the world in a scarlet luster. A sight that the Baron often admired.


    This village was no different, it too would be covered in the bloody rain.


    "Grandfather, come quick!"


    "Now, now. There''s no need to rush, whether we run or walk we will arrive all the same."


    "Yes, but the day has finally arrived!"


    "Indeed. Oh, how the years have flown by, I remember when you were but a wee tyke still latched onto your mother."


    "I''m a big boy now!"


    "Well, all the big boys that I know are patient."


    "...I guess we should walk, I wouldn''t want to rush you Grandfather." The boy slightly brushed his nose, whistling or at least attempting to, in a nonchalant fashion.


    "How kind." He dotingly matted his grandson''s hair. Both walking through the town until they finally arrived.


    "The Chamber of Elements!" His grandson yipped happily.


    "Have you already thought about what you''re going to choose?"


    "Hmm. I don''t know... Which is the best one?"


    "That''s hard to say. Everything is good for something different. It depends what you want from the future."


    "What I want from the future? How am I supposed to know that?"


    "That is a bit easier to answer. The words of a wise old man come to mind; ''If you must eat, then eat plenty. If you must grow, grow strong.''"


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    "Who said that?"


    "Me."


    "Eh? You can''t call yourself wise, even I know that!"


    "On the contrary my boy. Those who are can do what they want. If the Bloody Baron were to call himself strong, would you question it?"


    "...No." The boy slightly backed away at the mere thought of it. Stories of the Bloody Baron had often been told to bad children to make sure they wouldn''t misbehave. The amount of vegetables he was forced to eat and chores he was made to do in fear of these myths was somewhat laughable.


    "This is the same. Wisdom comes with age. I have lived enough years to know that those words ring true no matter who you are."


    "Then, is it impossible for a young person to be wise?" The young boy''s eyes wandered up as he begun to ponder.


    "That''s my grandson for you... Not necessarily. Here''s a question for you; how do you replace a lack of experience?"


    "That''s easy! Ask Grandfather."


    "Yes, we learn from history. Wise young boys rely on those that walked the path before him and use that knowledge to their advantage."


    "I see... Then another question. Grandfather; is it impossible to be strong without eating a lot?"


    "To live is to eat. To grow stronger than anyone else you must live and eat even more voraciously than any other. That is the way and will of the world. Therefore, yes. It is impossible."


    "Hmm... Perhaps, I should choose something common? Earth, or maybe fire?"


    "Having something be common isn''t all it''s cracked up to be. It might be easy to come across, but that just means it isn''t as valuable as others."


    "Rubies or Jade?"


    "It also can''t be so valuable that it''s hard to encounter, or you''ll never progress as a cultivator."


    "This is hard... Wait, what about the Baron?"


    "Blood certainly is common. That is precisely what makes the Baron such a figure of legend. Do you think if his pathway was easy he would be so feared and discussed today?"


    "I guess not..."


    "Of course you could always just leave it up to instinct."


    "What if I choose something bad..."


    "Trust in yourself. Better to choose something you want than something you don''t."


    "...Understood."


    "It''s about time you get going, the others will already be waiting inside."


    "Ah! That''s because you made us walk!"


    "Hohoho, good luck."


    Grandfather can be such a pain sometimes, he thought to himself.


    Bursting through the entrance doors, the boy entered into a large open space. Around ten children the same age as him were stood there with an older gentleman at the head of the group.


    "Yu, late again."


    "Apologies instructor, I really did try-"


    "Save your excuses, you can thank the heavens that we didn''t start without you. I have half a mind to delay your soul tuning to the next harvest."


    "No! Please. I promise it won''t happen again!"


    "See that it doesn''t. Yana, repeat what you were saying for the tardy back here."


    "Yes, instructor. The first meal of a cultivator is important as it dictates the element we will have control over for the rest of our ascension, the soul tuning we are about to partake in is one such event. Certain elements can''t be digested by the normal human constitution therefore we use these specialized parasites to gain control over those aspects early on in life."


    The diet was catered to the specific cultivator. However, that didn''t mean that they could just eat the element itself. In the early stages of cultivation a human could hardly absorb the essence of steel or other such elements. That was why we used organisms that already inherited some of that element to attune with. This room was filled with a limited variety of such creatures.


    "Indeed. You have come to the age required and have the good fortune to participate as cultivators. From here you take your first steps from mere mortals to something more. It''s up to you to decide what that is. Yana, as the best seed you have your choice of the floor. Make your decision."


    "I had already decided on this from the start." She grabbed a small, blue-streaked beetle.


    The Lightning Popper Beetle, harnessed sparks to make violent escapes when approached by predators. Attuning with one would allow the user to generate small electrical current and begin to harvest small amounts of charge, until they grown into a suitable shell that could conduct greater sums of electricity.


    "The aspect of lightning, I must say it suits you. Good choice for someone that relies so much on close-combat. I trust I don''t need to remind you... But for the rest of you louts, listen up! When soul attuning, you must eat the parasite alive. It doesn''t matter if it struggles or uses its aspect inside you. To eat is to live. To eat is to win. Do not lose to an insect. That is all."


    The next student in line went and picked their choice from the litter, each and every one of the students went in sequence until the last. Yu, due to his tardiness had been given the least possible options.


    "Perhaps this will teach you not to be late in the future, young man."


    "...I''m sorry." Even with these limited options, or rather because the options were limited further than before he was even more unsure of what to pick.


    He thought to himself; What did Grandfather say? Use intuition? What if it ends horribly? But, I have to pick something...


    The meagre choices being what they were, the boy finally settled on his decision and joined the rest of his class. Each and every one of the students held a separate cage that was made with the specific parasite in mind. Fire-proof casing for the Bombardier Fire Ants. Non-conducive material for the Lightning Popper Beetle. Etc. Etc.


    "We''ve been over the steps a thousand times... But for the last time, because I''m sure there''s one or two idiots here." He looked quickly at Yu.


    "You are to eat the parasite. Alive. During this time you will remain in solitary for three days. You will not eat another bite, you will not indulge in any hobbies or activities. You will not even see light for those days. You will focus on the sensation of the aspect and element within your entire body. Until you become aware of the soul itself. When the time comes that you have attuned, you will already be aware of what it means to be a cultivator. There should be no questions. Dismissed."


    Yu looked at his parasite once more, worriedly. Thinking; Did I really make the right choice?

 First Meal

    The Lotus of Piety. It was not a living parasite, at least not the same as the others that had been chosen. Like most plants, this Lotus was completely unconscious, it did not feel. Therefore it was often thought of as the coward''s choice. To remove yourself from the competition of eating, to actively avoid taking conscious life and eating to get stronger, you have willingly made yourself weak. A Herbivore. That was what they would call you. While normal humans were beneath cultivators, the Herbivores were a contested class. To be given the privilege and talent to cultivate and choose something so passive, was a great shame. Behind their backs even regular humans would mock them.


    "Do you regret it already?" The boy''s Grandfather gestured to the small white Lotus held in a shoddy wooden box. They walked side by side along the dirt road and out of the village towards the woods. The boy supporting the small crate with both hands, as if holding something precious.


    "...No. I just did what you said, I chose what I felt was right."


    "You know what that means, don''t you?" His Grandfather had pointed to the Lotus. Everyone in the village, no perhaps in this vast world knew what they symbolized.


    "Of course, Grandfather. It''s just..."


    "Well, I suppose there''s nothing to worry about. I had a feeling something like this would happen." He chuckled lightly. His eyes glazing over slightly in reminiscence.


    "You were prepared to be disappointed?" The child looked down slightly. He was afraid to speak. Scared to be called a coward by his Grandfather as well.


    "Hardly." His Grandfather didn''t elaborate any further, just gazing into the distance with a small smile to himself.


    "...Grandfather, I really did choose poorly didn''t I?" The boy regarded the Lotus with skepticism, yet even as he held that object of scrutiny in his gaze, his eyes had lit up.


    "What makes you think that, child?"


    "Everyone laughs at the Lotus." The Lotus of Piety in specific was the target of such harassment. There were other parasites and even entire elements that were derided and laughed at by humans and other cultivators alike. But the Lotus itself was special amongst them.


    "Is that all?"


    "Hm?" The boy was puzzled upon hearing his Grandfather''s reply. To laugh at a cultivator''s constitution was a great offence, a stain upon their honour. If eating was holy, then the diet and element a cultivator controlled was their Gospel.


    "If laughs are all then that isn''t so bad, is it?" It was a view completely removed from the common sense of this world. The boy wondered if his Grandfather had finally went senile.


    "..."


    "Do you think the Bloody Baron or The Gourmet would be discouraged by a few laughs and jibes?" He regarded his grandson in all seriousness.


    "No." But who would ever laugh at the Bloody Baron or Gourmet? The boy thought quietly.


    "Both of those living legends use elements thought theoretically impossible in the past, even today that''s the case. The truly great succeed where history fails."


    "Doesn''t that contradict what you said earlier?" Certainly the path was already paved by history. However, if you wanted to change the world, to become a great influence then you had to make your own path. Great men and women disregarded convention and moved on regardless of what the world thought about them.


    "Of course it does. The human spirit is the most contradictory element in this world. In reality there are few absolutes. Think about the reason you were so drawn to that Lotus in the first place, that is the answer you need to grasp." A small cave entrance appeared through the bushels, a large boulder was stationed just outside the mouth of the solitary cavern.


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    "But I don''t-"


    "That''s enough for now child, we''ve arrived."


    "Wait, I-"


    "This moment is not the time for discussion, it is the time for action. Trust in your choices. Trust in yourself. Do that and the answer will appear before you. Reflect. Do that and your soul will act as the mirror to see what you truly are. Take care, I''ll be back in three days." The boy was guided, almost coerced into the cave. The large boulder automatically blocking the mouth following his entrance. A boulder much too heavy for a child of such miniscule stature to move alone.


    This would be his confines for the next three days. A tiny forgotten cave, with not even the slightest speck of light entering. There was no sound, no light, not even a noticeable smell. The only sensations one could hope to feel was the sensation of touch through the cave floor and the taste of the parasite you intended on devouring.


    They limited the sensations, with that they could more easily focus on the internal. The soul. Only when they become aware of that, can they begin attuning.


    ----


    Well then... what do I do, now?


    The dark was oddly comforting. I held a strange affection for it, what seemed to frighten other children was instead a great haven to me. At least in the dark, people couldn''t see me. In turn I couldn''t see them either. It brought me great relief. Though, I knew I was all alone right now...


    All alone for the next three days, without anyone to talk to... Just this Lotus in my hands.


    Why did I pick this of all things? Am I stupid?


    Judging by the words of Instructor that might be the case.


    Ahhh! Everyone chose cool elements! Yana with her Lightning Popper Beetle, Chen with his Bombardier Fire Ant. What have I got... A plant. A glorified flower...


    The last three choices were this Lotus, a Gravel Snail and the Pestilent Tree Frog.


    I could have the aspect of Earth or Toxicity, but instead I chose flowers... I''m sorry Mother, your son is a failure. A Herbivore.


    I can''t help it, I just didn''t want to put that gross looking snail in my mouth! I could see the slime and mucus in the trail it left as it slid around in the container. Just imagining that texture in my mouth almost makes me want to hurl. It''s even got me heaving now...


    Then came the Pestilent Tree Frog... It''s poisonous. That means I''ll never be able to enjoy another meal again in my life. If I ever want to progress, I have to eat toxic animals and plants. Which will never taste good. The setback for even eating one as your first meal has you bed-ridden for three days. Impossible.


    ...


    ...


    ...


    ...


    ...Enough, it''s just me here. I''m sorry for lying...


    I''ll just be honest Mother... I don''t want to eat them. Not because I can''t... Not in that way at least... It wasn''t a matter of texture, taste or even the element I could gain...


    I just couldn''t bring myself do it. I tried, I really did. As soon as their eyes met mine, I lost all the nerve I had mustered up. The eyes that solemnly regard me from their cages. They pierce into my soul. Everyone is right; that was the real reason that I chose the Lotus of Piety. I can''t eat that which looks back at me.


    I''m a coward.


    Always have been, always will be.


    ...


    It''d be nice if you were still-


    No, I suppose that''s impossible now...


    ...


    Three days, huh? I suppose I should eat this thing as soon as I can. If I fail at this stage...


    No, don''t think about that.


    Looking at the Lotus, or at least I think I''m looking at it... It was so dark I couldn''t even see my hands in front of my face, though I could feel the box and the aforementioned Lotus inside. Retrieving the small flower, I imagined what it looked like in front of me. For some reason it was sparking a foreign feeling of familiarity in me... Is this what having good affinity for an element felt like?


    ...Did it matter how I ate it?


    Do I eat it whole, without chewing? Or do I chew each and every petal meticulously?


    There were specific instructions for other parasites, such as the Bombardier Fire Ant which required you to pinch the fore limbs and prevent an expulsion of flames until the last moment, when you could most easily accept the element. They were specially given instructions to prevent major injury and death. The Lotus of Piety on the other hand had no such instructions, it wasn''t like they encouraged using the element... It was only because this village was so small that it was even included in the selection. I just happened to be the idiot that chose it...


    Nothing to be done about it... I couldn''t fail here. The only thing to do is eat and concentrate.


    Just like that, I ingested the Lotus in a single gulp. Lying down in the position we had been taught in class. Keep a stable base on the ground, allow your limbs to sink peacefully. Forget about the body and it''s sensations, focus on the internal. Focus on the soul.


    So this is what the next three days of my life are going to be...


    Great.

 Bloody Realization

    When had it begun?


    When had I become disillusioned with the world? When did I become the sort of person that I was today? Was I just born as a monster with no redeeming qualities from the start? Or did I take a wrong turn somewhere?


    Were my actions ever wrong? Should I ever regret them?


    I was never punished. Not a single time in my life had I committed an action I could never rebound from. Even in those last moments... They just apologized. Knelt down and bowed to me. They treated themselves like subservient animals that could be easily replaced, thus I treated them exactly the same.


    The only difference... The only unstable variable was that thing. An outlier, it was soon enough and I''d have my answer. As soon as I have that I can rest easy. I was close enough last night... Was that even real? These days I can never tell the difference...


    How frustrating.


    As soon as I wake up, I have no doubt it''ll be a return to the exact same cycle again...


    I don''t care what it is, I just want that monotony to be broken and cast asunder. Because if I wake up again in that world...


    I''ll end that continuous loop myself.


    ---


    "Milord."


    I blinked a few times, to wipe the weariness from my eyes. They felt narrowed, far more obscured than they had been before. I must be well and truly tired. What a strange yet vivid dream I had last night...


    Looking around after the sleep had dislodged from my eyes, these surroundings don''t look familiar in the least. Especially not the guy beside me... How long has he been there?


    I was startled. But he doesn''t seem to be harmful... so far.


    Where on Earth am I?


    This strange bedding, my breathing is slightly ragged despite just waking. The bedroom and the interior of this room are much too large to be my own.


    This large fleshy, pulsating hand...


    The same dream, huh?


    "I apologise for disturbing your rest, Milord. However, the time for a feast is soon upon us. I thought you''d like to take a walk to build up a bit of appetite."


    Seriously, where am I? Milord? I must be some sort of nobility... This butler(?) guy had distinctively European features. Had I somehow been transported here in my sleep? Was this some strange prank she was playing on me...? Commitment to the bit, I could give her applause for that much at least. The only thing that didn''t add up, was me.


    Taking another look at my wrist... It had a greater thickness than the average person''s leg.


    No matter how you look at it... Whatever I am, isn''t human.


    These hands that look more like flayed pigs than any sort of human approximation of what a hand really is. The sheer size of my body, I was of such a volume that I shouldn''t even be able to walk unassisted or balance myself upright. Yet, I knew instinctively. I was probably stronger than in my previous body.


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    To think I did all that exercise and work only to be reborn as this monstrosity...


    Revolting.


    ...A walk would do me some good. I needed to see where we were. Maybe there''s a way I can get back home from... wherever this is. Or it could all just be a bad dream... Yeah, let''s go with that.


    I just need to wake up. Even if I wake up next to that thing again in the morning... It''s at least better than this. I''m sure she''ll forgive me, just like the others... But I suppose I could at least give her an explanation. Maybe... I''ll just wait until I wake up to decide.


    The butler rang a small bell he held by his side, at the sudden chimes a few young men entered the room. They all deferred to me immediately, not a single one was accustomed to looking me in the eye. They came in the room with that state in mind. They were similar to my subordinates back there... Well, as a dream I suppose it would take inspiration from life. What exactly did he need them for right now?


    Without a word the men gathered by my flanks, holding large cloths and implements similar to a shoehorn, without any shoes in sight.


    They were preparing to dress me.


    How humiliating. If you were going to go to this extent the least you could do...


    "Really, you can''t find some more appealing servants to do this?" If I was going to be attended then I would prefer a certain company. The fairer sex, that is. After all, it wasn''t like they were good for much else.


    "...Milord, I can find some others if you''d like. But these are the same retainers you''ve had for two years now."


    "..." I just levelled a look at the man. For some reason he was serving me, shouldn''t you comply with your master''s wishes? If this was a dream I was going to live it to the fullest!


    He quickly backpedaled. "Apologies. It isn''t the place of a humble servant to make such queries. Could you provide a preference that I can match?"


    "Women. I don''t really care what they''re like. It''s a better sight than this lot."


    "...I see. I shall make arrangements. May I request you make do with this for today and I will manage the necessary preparations for after the feast?"


    "I suppose, ensure you get it done." It was degrading either way, but i suppose it was just the once. Still for such a vivid dream, why didn''t I have any control? It felt strange. I had never lucid dreamed before this but I had heard enough about it to assume something wasn''t right.


    Perhaps it was a nightmare instead.


    Waking up as this disgusting creature, I can hardly imagine anything else is worse.


    ---


    ...What is this madness?!


    Exiting from the main entrance of a particularly extravagant manor revealed a set of walkway bridges all of which crossed a huge chasm with molten liquid at the very bottom. The sky was a dark red.


    But more than anything there were dreadful screams. Ear-shattering, it was all I could do but to hang onto my sanity. The man beside me, this butler fellow continued as if it were any other daily occurrence.


    What is making that dreadful noise?


    Those voices, those noises were hoarse thanks to the bubbling heat of the chasm below. But all the same, I was hoping that it was my imagination playing tricks on me. Because those screams, sounded hauntingly human...


    They were erupting from the small holes dug around the crater, the sound bounced and echoed transforming into ghastly wails. It was as if the wails of the departed in the underworld were rising up and reprimanding me.


    "Do you desire to take things a bit slower today, Milord?"


    "..."


    "Usually you hurry along, right to the veranda for your favourite view."


    Whatever, wherever! It doesn''t matter just get me away from here! Making me nauseas.


    Continuing along the bridge, the smoldering, bubbling liquid beneath continued to rumble. Along with the cacophony of voices it created a symphony of suffering that resounded throughout the valley.


    We finally arrived at the proposed veranda. Supposedly this body''s favourite view.


    It was catastrophic.


    Death and decay on a wide scale. In a vast perimeter around the very top of this crater. The land was dark and dreary. There was no grass, the trees that had still remained standing were like obelisks of a land long gone, each and every one of them cracked and decaying. There were no animals on the horizon. The rolling hills outside of this crater were barren, completely devoid of life at all. The greys of their destitution were grim to say the least. It truly was a desolate wasteland.


    Are we the only ones out here? It felt as if I was alone in the universe, right now? My only company being the monstrous people like this butler that thought of this place as normal!


    And all the while...


    "Milord, it seems as if we made it just in time."


    A bloody rain fell to the land, washing the little remains of debris away. The land that was once grey was now dyed red with a bloody storm.


    If this is a dream.


    Then it must be a nightmare...


    For I have found myself in Hell.

 Blood Pudding

    The hellish landscape I had found myself in... Even after I retreated to my bedchambers, I could not wipe its continued existence from my mind.


    After seeing that sight, I had told that butler not to disturb me under any circumstances. I don''t know what''s going on but this bad dream should end soon enough, then I''ll wake back up in that bed...


    I know I asked to finally be removed from that monotonous life, but I didn''t mean to be sent to the underworld instead!


    I dug my ridiculously large, meaty head further into the velvety pillows of my bed.


    It was comfortable, pillowy and soft as if laying on a cloud.


    I was lay pleasantly. Here, where I should be relaxed... Regardless I couldn''t find myself at rest.


    No matter how hard I tried.


    I couldn''t hear the constant wails when I awoke earlier, they didn''t penetrate this far into the manor.


    If that''s the case.


    Please tell me...


    Why can I hear them so clearly?


    It was maddening, the sound was driving me crazy. It was as if each and every single one of those tortured animals was directing their voices at me! What the hell did I do to you?! Send your complaints to a different department, goddamnit!


    ---


    "Milord. The time for a feast has arrived."


    "N-" My immediate answer was going to be refusal, but...


    Gurgle!


    "..." I was silenced by the grumbling of my oversized stomach. It growled like a prehistoric beast. I was starving. Maddeningly.


    Strangely enough, I don''t know how much time had passed, but I hadn''t eaten at any other juncture in the day. For a member of nobility, this guy didn''t eat often. Is that a factor for nobility, one large meal in the afternoon?


    He did say there was some sort of banquet occurring, what was the reason for it?


    ...There was just one thing I was worried about.


    From that wide view of the crater and it''s surrounding hills. There are no fields or granaries. Nor have I seen a single animal in the few hours I''ve spent in this hellish place.


    What exactly am i going to be eating?


    ---


    There were hundreds of seats with three large tables spanning from the entrance all the way to the back of the dining hall. I had ambled into a large, albeit restrictive throne with a ridiculously, humongous platter of meat presented before me. Much too large to be called a meal. Yet, I was hungry for it all the same.


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    "What is this?" I could feel the drool produced, I was salivating like a dog before it''s marbled visage.


    "Meat, Milord. Your usual favourite."


    "And from where was this meat procured?"


    "Cattle progeny grade 5, settlement A. The greatest meal we can offer, as always."


    "I see..." It was cattle. The screams, it was just a slaughterhouse. Of course they were hidden, what was I thinking... The bubbling molten lava at the bottom of that chasm was just making me feel worse for wear. It was probably just an effect of the fumes or something. That''s all it was.


    I took a large bite of the succulent meat offered to me. I''ve eaten at many places throughout my career. I must be remembering the taste of that particular Wagyu restaurant that my superior had taken me to. Getting on the waiting list alone took a few months without connections. Even for someone like me, it was a treat I very rarely got to indulge in. I had never tasted anything better.


    Gorging upon the meat before me, I could smell the iron. They had left some blood on it, I usually had my meat medium rare, as was the staple. But this wasn''t so bad. The smell of iron, for some odd reason, was just whetting my appetite even more.


    "Allow me to offer my cup to you; O'' great Baron." One of the men seated roughly halfway down the table had approached me.


    The juice from the steak was almost quenching enough. But I could hardly refuse washing down this delicious meal with a wine of particularly good vintage.


    I took a large mouthful from the outstretched goblet.


    To my horror the same taste of the meat, the juice that was quenching my thirst before even taking a mouthful of wine, was omnipresent.


    I spat, more on reflex than in regard to any deficiency in taste. Smelling the contents of the goblet warily.


    "...Is this blood?" I was bewildered, what is this guy offering me?!


    "Eh, of course it is. Milord?"


    "This is not wine, what do you think you''re giving to a Baron? Is this some sort of sick joke?" Even in my dreams these worthless subordinates can''t get a single thing right.


    "Of course not, I would never dare! Not to you, Milord! There must be some mistake!" His face was covered with a genuinely befuddled expression.


    "You would dare offer this swill to the Great Bloody Baron! Only the finest wine for our lord!" A group of men shouted from across the tables.


    Gradually more and more people had risen out of their seats and approached. The man that offered his cup was already detained in the arms of two men seated particularly high up the table. Just a few seats from myself.


    "I swear to you O'' Baron. This is the finest wine I could get my hands on! Look at the coloring; a beautiful scarlet just as is the namesake of this valley." Those words just reminded me of the hellscape we were in, that valley of blood. I slammed the table in retort, barely restraining my groans.


    "And someone as lowly as you decided to interrupt the Baron''s meal with this paltry gift. Those lower should know their place!" The surrounding henchmen proclaimed.


    "He''s spat upon your pride, Milord. Allow me to bring you his head in recompense! For the glory of the Bloody Baron!"


    "To spoil the palate of our great leader, no punishment other than death could be suitable!"


    "Off with his head!"


    "Let blood spill and gather once more in the Goblet!"


    So many voices. So many noises. Stop your drivel for a moment will you?!


    "Enough!"


    The room rumbled and shook, extravagant chandeliers came dislodged from the ceiling, food fell off the table from the excessive shaking.


    Was that my voice? The anger must have changed something in this nightmare... Was that the answer to getting myself out of this situation? Perhaps the stability of this dream world would become more unstable the greater the outburst...


    Silence emanated through the dining hall.


    I knew more than anyone... Showing weakness wasn''t what a leader was supposed to do in this situation. Allow people an inch and they will take a mile. He needed punishment, correction. But not death. I wasn''t so far gone that I believed this was a suitable punishment. I had to administer it myself, or everyone else here will massacre him.


    Not to mention, I''ll lose a valuable opportunity.


    Why was this situation unfolding in the first place? Everything is out of control. The more time I spend here, the less I feel like this dream will ever end.


    But there was one thing I was sure of...


    I don''t want to stay here. I don''t want to return to that dining hall.


    I didn''t want to think on it more...


    Whatever that is, I don''t want to eat it again.

 Bloodsport

    A fight was breaking out.


    One of my subordinates had provided me blood under the guise of wine. I should''ve realised how they treat such behaviour here. His joke probably wasn''t so funny right now...


    Here we were, in a pit. With nothing but the clothes on our back. Seats housing each and every person that had been in the dining room, perhaps more.


    I tried what I could...


    Every single one of these guys was bloodthirsty, apparently the only solution to this scenario was his death. As much as I didn''t want to agree, I knew just what could happen if the masses rose up against the upper class. Time and time again; that was shown to us throughout history.


    Banishment or some similar punishment could work. It might have the same ending, but it at least meant I wouldn''t have to be the one to get my hands dirty. I wouldn''t be the one to swing the executioner''s axe and ultimately end a life.


    Pictures of her came to mind... No, that was different. That had cause, there was reason for it!


    This... this is completely different. I shook my head to disperse the gnawing thoughts within.


    A pipe dream... The man asked for death himself.


    Trial by combat. He couldn''t bear the dishonor of ruining my meal. Instead, he called my own integrity into question. Saying that he couldn''t ever be so low as to spoil another''s diet, especially the Baron.


    I had never killed be-...


    Flashes of that red room went by in a brief second. My heart was palpitating.


    I don''t want to kill. I don''t... But if you''re asking me to spare your life in exchange for my own... Then the answer is already obvious.


    I didn''t understand it... No perhaps I didn''t want to. There was no reason for me to take the life of another for such a stupid reason. Maybe if I just beat him to within an inch of his life, then they''ll call it a day and he can at least flee having survived.


    That was naive.


    The sound of something popping and cracking could be heard slightly, though it was overwhelmed by the bloodthirsty cries of the onlookers. That guy... His arm was trembling violently, the bones seemed to morph and explosively writhe as if it was a separate organism. Protrusions came from his arms as bone poked through flesh, each and every one of the bones was like a sharpened tree branch. Blood poured slowly from the holes he bored, dribbling slowly onto the paved floor of this arena.


    From the palms of his hand something began to grow, another protrusion alike the other branches, but different in a unique way. It had a grip near the base of his hand...


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    A sword. It was a sword... A fucking sword made of bones...


    What the hell is this place?! First, bloody rain and molten magma, then came the hellish screams. What now, some sort of human contortionist?


    He casually pulled that out from his palm, as if he were some sort of street performer. What am I supposed to do against that?! I don''t even have a weapon in this place!


    Slash!


    He charged at me, slicing meat off of my body. It stung, hurt, burned...


    It was as if everything ignored the laws of physics. His cuts definitely made contact. I knew. I felt the pain, the fear of flesh being shaved off my body. Where blood should trickle from those wounds, where they should ebb and the scarlet water flow. Nothing happened.


    The blood that should flow, automatically seeped back into my grotesque body. Some fresh scar tissue along the slices were the only evidence that I had ever been damaged by the sword. If a person were to just arrive they might think he had yet to land an attack.


    He looked bewildered and gulped audibly. Winding back the dangerous arm, he prepared to rush towards me, holding the enamel blade and pure white protrusions as if to pierce me in the gut. Even if the other attacks didn''t injure me, being stabbed couldn''t be walked off.


    With the fear of danger looking me right in the eye, my response was automatic. I had to defend myself. Even if blood didn''t flow, the pain and danger were still real. I felt like I was being drained even though blood wasn''t leaving my body. If I lost consciousness here, I''d definitely die. Even if this was a dream, a nightmare. Nobody wants to willingly die. Nobody would stop putting up a fight to their attacker...


    The same visions plagued my mind. I could see her face clearly.


    In a rush my hand sped through the air, cutting the wind and impacting the contrastingly small opponent before me.


    The grotesque, gigantic slab of flesh that was my fist collided with his body. His entire body rippled violently and blood erupted like a crimson geyser in the middle of the pit. It rained over the battlefield, covering me from head to toe.


    The disgusting sight made my jaw drop in shock and denial.


    Chunks of meat erupted into the air, tiny giblets landed into my awestruck open mouth...


    It tastes the same.


    Again...


    My consciousness is fading rapidly, I can feel the bile rising in my stomach. It burned insides, the feeling immediately brought me back to that same moment. The first time I had ever experienced being inside this body.


    Eyes watering and breaths heaving, it all came out...


    Meat chunks splattered onto the grounds where we had just dueled. Heaving and sputtering as the bile rose from my stomach.


    Splotch!


    The cheers that had once rang out from the audience were now completely silenced, in a void of suspense.


    "...Ha...Haha... Look, that guy was so garbage; it''s even ruined the Baron''s palate. Spit it up, Milord. Eat anymore and it''ll poison your strength!"


    "Y- Yeah! Yeah, of course. Our Lord shouldn''t be made to eat such disgusting trash. It isn''t fit enough even for pigs!"


    Ears are ringing...


    What is this place?


    What is this hellish nightmare?


    Why won''t it end?


    That red room... It''s as if I was inside once more. A nightmarish dream, trapped in this disgusting, putrid body. Limbs strung about that bathroom like pinatas dismantled by a particularly angry child. Like dolls that had been dismembered and never put back together.


    And her neck...


    I was choking her in this world as well, between two massive fingers...


    And then I snapped it. Broke it in half like a twig.


    Why...?


    What the hell had I done to deserve this?!


    I''m not some monster!


    I''m human just like the rest of you!


    Just... Just let me out of this nightmare... Please...

 Meditations

    How much time has passed since I entered this pitch-black cavern?


    Was it an hour? 5 hours? A day? A week? A month? A year?


    Do I even exist anymore?


    Had I already died and this was the afterlife, an infinite purgatory given to cowards like me? Had the starvation taken me in my sleep?


    So many scenarios had passed by in my mind, the madness was sickening. I couldn''t verify even a single one of them, there was no other stimuli in this cave. No sensations other than the feeling of the cave floor against my cold body or the echoing of my own voice.


    I tried to sleep. Even with the quiet and dark it wasn''t possible. The silence was deafening.


    Despite being completely alone in this cave. I never truly felt at rest. I couldn''t grasp when I was conscious and when I had fallen asleep.


    Had I ever slept?


    What did sleep even feel like?


    ...


    When boredom took me, i counted and counted and counted...


    Was I counting too fast? Too slow? There was no accurate sensation to compare with my own breaths. Even if I were to count every second that I was supposed to stay here, it would be an exercise in futility. That just made me feel even more hopeless, so I quickly gave up... I have no idea how long I had been trapped inside before I even started counting.


    After giving up and deciding it was useless... I started counting again. Anything to drive this silence from my mind, anything to focus on, to give my brain nourishment. That cycle continued nearly endlessly. For so so long, that I was convinced my isolation should be finished at this point...


    Salvation never arrived.


    Not for me.


    My Grandfather never arrived. The boulder was never moved. I was left here in the dark, in the cold. In this miserably bleak cave.


    I already recognized the hapless hands of hopelessness grasp onto my soul.


    I already felt as if I had only existed in this room.


    ...


    In the past I had enjoyed the dark, I even enjoyed solitary moments on occasion.


    But this was different...


    The silence, the lack of nourishment, the complete depravation of any stimuli that could otherwise occupy my time. I was left with just my thoughts and feelings.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The absence of light, sound, even smell... It left you spiraling in an immense cycle of loneliness, one I couldn''t imagine any human enjoying.


    I was becoming more and more disillusioned with myself.


    At one point I had thought that I would be trapped in here forever. Maybe my Grandfather really was disappointed in me, what if he just decided to leave me here, so that I wouldn''t be a visible stain on our family lineage...


    No, Grandfather wouldn''t do that.... Would he?


    ...Who am I kidding? If I were in his shoes, I would do the same...


    I felt as if I had spent more time in this cave than outside. Years of memories fluttered by like petals forgotten in the wind. It was as if none of them ever truly mattered in here.


    Memories flashed by, one after the other. Some that were so mundane it was a wonder why they even remained in my memory. Even though they didn''t matter, and they wouldn''t serve me here...


    All the same, I was still grateful to experience them in this moment. Anything was better than this dreadful silence that rang too loud for me to think. It must have been the connections and memories I had made, that let me retain that brief, miniature measure of sanity. If I were completely alone from the beginning...


    That was a thought too bleak to utter.


    ...


    At least when the Lotus was still in the box it was as if I had some sort of company. Some essence of life that was present in the same room, instead I ate it...


    Now I was completely alone...


    ...


    In the depths of my hunger and desperation I began to see hallucinations. Were they of the past? I thought they were, in my deliriousness it was entirely possible my brain was conjuring false memories from thin air.


    It was funny...


    If I were to actively try and picture the face of my Mother or Father unassisted, then nothing with such clarity appeared. Not until now. Here, in this dark cavern. I was able to create an unquestionable visage. One that I knew was their real faces. It wasn''t through any quantifiable evidence, unless you counted my sudden feelings and immersion into the hallucination, as concrete.


    A woman wearing a sundress and a wide-brimmed hat to block out the blinding sunlight was frolicking in a meadow. I was in the arms of a larger person, as we chased after her. Smiles and laughter rang lowly throughout the fields of blooming flora. There was no one else here, it was an undisturbed utopia. The desecration cast by the Bloody Baron''s never-ending crimson shower was nowhere in sight. Luscious grass and wildflowers emerged from the dirt casting an enchanting gradient of colour along the ground.


    We continued to give chase, eventually stumbling into a small hovel. A forgotten nook. It was as if the world itself had ignored this place.


    Nature had a fickle way of surviving. Even in these forgotten places.


    Tiny, shining rays of sunlight filtered through scraggly rock formations placing a spotlight on a desolate gathering of white flowers that were almost pedestalized.


    It was beautiful. Those pure white, unfettered petals...


    The same flower. The Lotus... But why?


    Those strong arms that carried me to the cave slowly and gently placed me onto the floor. The man with his back towards me had hurried to the pedestal and plucked but a single flower. Offering one to my Mother.


    She laughed merrily, graciously scooping the offered flower into her two outstretched hands. Her mouth moved, but I couldn''t quite hear what she had said. What was it? I wanted to know more, to see more...


    "But... The Lotus was hated, useless and feeble. Why would they...? Why did Grandfather never tell me? Why did I have to be in this cave to remember? Is it even a real memory, or have I gone insane?" In my amazement, I had begun to speak aloud.


    Attempting to muster up more visions of the past didn''t work. I didn''t care whether they were real or the false imaginations of a starving, dehydrated child. I didn''t care if it would all be forgotten after, I just wanted to see their faces once more. For her to tell me everything would be okay. Even if it was just a vision, I could live with that...


    Reality is often disappointing.