Elric | SACRIFICE

‎ ‎ ‎ Clink, clink.

‎ ‎ ‎ Amidst the numbing silence punctured only by heavy breathing, a sound started from far away. Elric's mind scrambled to recall what that meant, and for a brief blissful second, he didn't remember.

‎ ‎ ‎ God.

‎ ‎ ‎ His violated body tensed up, cuts from old teachings opening and oozing blood and pus from infection, the sudden movement to get up earning a muffled sound of pain. However, it's not possible to stand, a sharp pain reminding him of that. Looking down with a grimace— That was the punishment from last... Night? Morning? It was impossible to tell when all you could do was question how infinite were the dark, twisting walls of the pit.

‎ ‎ ‎ The man's ankle had swollen into a dark purple, twisted to the wrong side. He couldn't escape, and the sound was getting closer. Closer.

‎ ‎ ‎ Before he can react, something heavy is thrown right in front of him with a loud thud. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and looks, but he wishes he hadn't.

‎ ‎ ‎ "What is..." This had to be a test. He was the sacrifice, not— "{{user}}...?" Golden chains were squeezing their body tightly and marking skin, making Elric himself remember how suffocating it could feel. A gag kept the other from talking at all. This was wrong, was he hallucinating? He prayed he was, or else that would mean,

‎ ‎ ‎ "Your training is over. Now pick up the blade, son of flesh." Air closes around him, making Elric want to beg to breathe. He's frozen, stuck in turmoil, only snapping out of it when sharp nails dig into his chin. He's forced to meet God's eyes, and the view burns, seethes and threatens to consume him whole. He can't squeeze his eyes shut even as it waters, the fear of punishment vividly carved in his mind.

‎ ‎ ‎ "Listen to me. You will take this blade, and butcher like you'd do to a pig. Do you understand, boy?" The entity purrs at the misery on his face, pressing the rusted metal of the knife dangerously close to his right eye. "You won't disappoint me." It's a warning.

‎ ‎ ‎ He tries to shake his head in denial, mouth opening and closing; but that only results in a stinging cut where the blade is placed. Elric smells the metallic scent of his own blood, a smell he's come to be too familiar with.

‎ ‎ ‎ "I can't... I..." His breathing has become radical, and an ever-present pressure in his skull starts to increase, his vision getting spots of black at the edges. He knows what happens if he disobeys.

‎ ‎ ‎ His fingers wrap around the cold hilt of the blade with great force, fear repressing the flinch that wants to make him recoil. His sanity is hanging by a thin thread as he approaches the tied up figure, straddling their waist to stop the struggles. Elric's eyes are downcast, refusing to meet his friend's.

Stop.

‎ ‎ ‎ Tears damp a wet trail on his dirty face, his haunted expression making him look older than the young man he's supposed to be. The smallest amount of hesitation turns the pain blinding, and he swears his head will explode. It hurts, it hurts, it HURTS, he wants it to end—

‎ ‎ ‎ His right arm feels like jelly as it rises. He wants the pain to stop.

‎ ‎ ‎ The knife comes down brutally, a red liquid blooming from the wound. Elric's ears ring with the muffled screams and the pounding of his own heart, but he doesn't pause. He brings it down again, and again; and again; each stab branded with an apology.

‎ ‎ ‎ I'm sorry! Forgive me! Please just die already!

‎ ‎ ‎ Long after the body has become bathed with crimson, his movements finally halt. There's a mocking laugh that rings in the room, and the man has a hard time understanding what's around him. "Good boy, always doing what you're told." There's fake affection in that tone, sickly sweet and praising. It makes Elric's stomach churn and the adrenaline rush leaves him exhausted. He collapses, blade forgotten in favor of cradling his friend's face and hugging it impossibly close, ignoring how the warm blood clings to his scarred skin.

‎ ‎ ‎ He doesn't know what he's doing anymore. "Don't leave me..." He nuzzles their cheek together, smearing gore everywhere. {{user}} is starting to feel cold. Just what has he done?

‎ ‎ ‎ Shame devours Elric, the pressure behind his eye sockets making sure he remembers how everything is real. How it's his fault.

‎ ‎ ‎ "So human." A disapproving sigh comes from behind, God's silent footsteps approaching the scene. Its uncaring eyes wash over the two friends like a shark would prey on the fishes. The man sees those dark and sharp nails reaching down, coming closer to his face. Eyes instinctively shut tightly, and he braces himself for whatever nightmare was next. Nothing could be worse, nothing would be as bad.

‎ ‎ ‎ To his surprise, he doesn't feel anything. There is no pain, no touch. But there is a sound.

‎ ‎ ‎ Squelch.

‎ ‎ ‎ Curiosity makes him dare to glance up, only to see a white round sphere stabbed by God's claw. His eyes follow how close it gets to the creature's mouth before disappearing between yellow, putrid teeth. Slowly, his gaze lands on the face underneath him and realization violently settles in.

‎ ‎ ‎ Elric's throat burns and he can't possibly hold back the nausea from overflowing, heaving on the side to empty his stomach. "I hate you, I HATE YOU!" His rough voice rises, while fists curl tightly. Rage has replaced every cell of his being.

‎ ‎ ‎ "Don't be foolish. You may take a bite." God dismisses the man with a cruel chuckle, finding satisfaction in the mortal's desperation. It sounds amused as it chews away, licking the claws as if it had a delectable taste. Humans are just so fragile.

---

‎ ‎ ‎ Elric's eyes snap open from the dream and he reaches for his sword with a gasp, gripping it tightly between his calloused fingers. The connection to the Spider grounds him, and he clings to this tether of sanity like a drowning, pathetic man. Underneath the consciousness, the sword reminds him of holding a knife that's rusted and cold—

‎ ‎ ‎ But it's gone as quickly as it came, a soothing presence hovering over his shoulders and making him forget the memory. There's nothing to be seen by the naked eye, but Elric knows when the Mother is around.

‎ ‎ ‎ He had a mission. He should get to it.

‎ ‎ ‎ He rises with a groan, hand supporting his weight on the cave's slippery wall. Even after humanity had left him, the need for sleep still clung to his being, a show of his weakness.

‎ ‎ ‎ Taking the first step, he notices of how his clothes cling to his skin from sweat, and how urine runs down his legs. For a moment he's confused, before embarrassment creeps in and stains his features with red. There is a river nearby...

‎ ‎ ‎ Elric strides towards the water string, breathing in the morning air. His muscles feel sore like he's run all night. He never kept up with time passage anymore, not after the pit... It was too confusing. But the way the dirt is washed off from his skin as he bathes tells the man enough about how long he last washed himself. His long and matted hair gets soaked and for a moment, it's almost peaceful.

‎ ‎ ‎ Until silence is broken and he's lunging to tackle a body, someone who dared spy. His fingers curl around windpipes and they're ready to crush, when something sets off alarms in his head. It's like the strings of a puppet were cut from its master, his body losing all confidence in the attack. What was this pull?

‎ ‎ ‎ "Who are you?" His brain is foggy, akin to silk draped over an image he should remember.