Chapter 12

Three bunkers down held the top military personnel in the Arcane militia's intelligence. Under extreme security clearances and top-secret walkways, Quinn was laying naked on a cold prison floor. The frigid conditions matched most of the militia's heart; it's hard to believe blood flows through them at all.

A dirty woolen tunic provides warmth for his trauma, tossed on him by a guard.Even though sullied, the cloth on his frightened skin felt like cotton with an immeasurable thread count.

"I don't know anything. I take it back!" whimpered Quinn from the cell. The words escaped his mouth with such speed that it all came out incoherent, finally free, snatching the stagnant air with every vowel.

The guard pretended to be deaf to Quinn's sorrow, even though most of it was tattooed on his face.

"I didn't see anything! It was all lies. Get me out of here, I'm falling ill!" pleaded Quinn, even less comprehensible now, mumbled up, swirling in spit.

The guard exited the cell area and slammed the heavy metal door behind him, it entrenched Quinn in darkness as he heard the many large locks sink into place. By now he had memorized the sound, every intricate 'click' breaking his heart.

That same guard mimicked a carousel in the area, which was fitting, since the last room he entered was round.Inside was the intelligence sitting at a circular table, completing the design. It was the type of room that was never talked about, and if it were, it would soon land on dead lips.The men were all adorned in surcoats, lavished with precious stones, such as silver and pearls. Every member was fitted like pieces on a chessboard, confined to their square, well aware of their place. The type of room where topics like 'Population control' wasn't uncommon.

"We have kept peace for so long in this country, but...If this be the end, or beginning of a new era, I embrace the change. It's no surprise the researchers have realized the time difference," professed Logan, a middle-aged man, who's time in the Arcane militia had worn him down.

"All of the good things will be altered. To spread this throughout Ashovania would evolve us all. However, there will be a price to pay. But continuing our legacy of Unyielding Love is worth it," replied Clarence, an older man, who wanted nothing but more power.

Unyielding Love was the name coined by the Arcane militia during their reign. They believed the country was most peaceful under their rule. Misusing the term as a political tool.

The rest of the military astuteness had no descriptions. They are only mentioned as numbers, starting from number 3, and so on. Even in the flashback, they were cloaked in secrecy.

"What we are dealing with will change the course of history gentlemen. Much information, and people, will need to be...covered up," stated No. 3.

"It's simple rules of power. He who holds information first, wields the rest of the world at their fingertips. Before it becomes a hideous unraveling of strange occurrence, we must ensure that it all begins, ends, and is controlled, by us," chimed in No. 4.

"Only Arcane must oversee the rest of this investigation. Eradicate the remains; take care of the disgusting...logistics involved. And we will show as the prestigious and brilliant military structure that altered Ashovania forever. Entering into a new time, new generation," calmly stated No.3.

"Heavy is the head," joked Logan.

"Bring in the boy once more; we needn't beat around the bush here. Are the other bodies burned?" asked Clarence.

"Yes sir, all of the victims have been taken care of, no evidence remains."

"If the boy matches the description...we must add him to that list. Too easily a conspiracy can evolve. We simply cannot allow his departure without proper inspection. Bring him I say!" yelled Logan.

Outside, Gamon was smoking a corncob pipe resting upright on the wall of his bunker when he noticed a horse buggy headed towards the site. He shrugged his shoulders and exhaled, the smoke danced for him before joining the atmosphere. The horse-buggy went inside. Two soldiers opened the door and walked in to retrieve Quinn. A wool bag placed over his head to cover his identity. He was unkempt and soiled himself. His body was limp and soulless in appearance. They tossed him into the round room, the circular mouth of the beast.

All the personnel stood up and scanned his broken-down body like he was a malfunctioned gadget, finding the purpose of his purpose. No.3 and 4 grinned, as Quinn squinted his eyes to adapt to the light within the room. It had been a while; in captivity he thought the shadow was his skin. Logan lets out a long sigh to indicate remorse for him.

"Without the description we will not let you leave. And in time, we will not let you live. So..." claimed Logan.

"Remove the horrors of the last week and state correctly all that you saw about that night," commanded Clarence.

First contact with the unknown. Quinn had witnessed the strange creatures kill a researcher at the site. The scene was too unfamiliar to him, and his eyes wouldn't let him leave. During the attack, as he watched, some of the same injuries he saw appeared on his body. However he was magically healed, with small black scaly worms repairing him, the creatures DNA somehow inside him, revitalizing him. When he finally shut his eyes to the primitive act going on in front of him, he saw the demon appear. The same demon that the Prince sees at night.

"Yyyoouu'veee seen meee? All theeesseecreeattureessareee me," The demon whispered. His voice trailed through all the octaves in an echo of musical keys.

"What...are you?"

"I aaapppeeaarrttooyouuuthiss way, inn aaaatteempttt too takkeeonn aa humannn form.Simppple, yooourgoddd has sssketched you."

"It was a mistake, I was going to see Ha..."

"Myyyytruueefooorrmwooulldd bee too friggteeening. I aaammthiier mother and father. I aaamthiieerr god. And you...beeiinngg the firsttt. Myyyallphhaa...shallll be currsseed. Yoouu shall noottdiee. Therreee will beeemorree, and noo two curssedd shall bee alikeeee. Nottt all will beeimmortall. Innntthheeffuuturreyouu will beeeemyyvechileee."

The military was on the scene shortly after and found Quinn twisting and turning on the floor screaming nonsense, like his tongue kept missing the English language. He looked possessed, which in all actuality, was an understatement.

They brought him into the psychiatric facility, ran cerebral tests, but mentally he would never return. At night he had vivid nightmares of the attack, and sees the demon in the background laughing at him. When he awakes the demon walks him to the bathroom and he re-injures himself the same as before, over and over. Just to heal over and over, cyclical pain. One night, a nurse was leaving late when she noticed Quinn in this unstable state and attempted to help him.