Chapter 2

The halls were long and cold. The stone that lined the walls was damp and usurped the heat from one’s body as he passed leaving nothing but a cold, empty shell; barren of hope and happiness and all that made one human. The torches, which provided the only illumination, were few and far between, shrouding most in darkness; a malicious darkness. One that ate at you – ate at your soul. It fed not to curiosity. It was fodder for nightmares. Nightmares that became living within these halls. Nightmares that would swallow one whole in to the maw of evil and death.

The Savior walked calmly with a silent resolve, shackled by two men next to him. The men bore armor and had hoods pulled over their heads, covering their faces in the same shadow which existed everywhere in these walls. The savior walked: a beacon of light through the tenebrious darkness that was all around him. He knew not of his future, but he knew what he had to do. The king wouldn’t stop him. No one would stop him. The people would be granted their God. The people would be freed. The people would be granted their liberties and rights. This darkness that stood would not keep him from this. No. These obstacles were ethereal and evanescent. His sword of light would cut through them, just as it would cut through the King. Nothing was going to stop him.

The two men – nameless, faceless, shadowy beings – lead him into a much larger and grander chamber. There, upon a tall throne sat the King, embroidered in the treachery and corruption which he was infamous for. He sat amongst countless treasures and wealth from the people that he stolen from, but he hid all this well. He let not his citizens see what he had done to them. The façade that he retained was one of a much humbler being; one that left the common man unaware of his secretive inner life. He was ringed by sentries and centurions, much burlier and well-armed, if possible, than the two who lead the Savior by chains.

Windows lined the walls and the ceiling of the King’s throne room, but no light entered here. The King was a being of darkness; of shadow; of corruption, woe and misery; of torment. No. No light entered here. Only the darkness and blackness that made his heart existed here. It didn’t simply sit idly by either. It coagulated in to a thick, undulating, choking substance that covered one like oil. It forced itself in to one’s being, penetrating every part of one’s self, and the King stood at the epicenter of this maelstrom of evil. His eyes moved on to the Savior’s, ordering the attack of the dark storm that whirled around him. The King was prepared to beat down his mind and soul before he would finally do away with his body. He was going to leave him with nothing. For anyone who came between the King and his absolute order would be exterminated. Exterminated absolutely.

The two did battle for a moment; the King’s omnipresent darkness clashing with the Savior’s unwavering beacon of light. The tension was almost palpable, if the shadows weren’t so overwhelming. The guards, with spears at the ready, were prepared to impale the Savior if he was to make a single move, but he remained steadfast, against both the King’s assault and the guards’ intimidation. The King rose, seeing the futility of the stalemate. His booming voice echoed and amplified itself within his chamber.

“You, Savior, are charged with the corruption of the populace of my city. This constitutes a capital offense. To that end, I hereby sentence you to death by beheading – public beheading.” A cocky smile crawled over the King’s face as he spat the words from his mouth. The Savior made not a movement; recognized not that the King had even said anything. He simply continued to stare upon his visage. To acknowledge the King had made any sort of threat on his life would be to grant him the satisfaction of his death. So the Savior did nothing. The King’s smug grin turned to a frown.

“Return this filth to its cage. He will receive no dinner tonight.” The grunts bowed to their ruler before turning to face, again, the hall. They tugged at the Savior’s chains. He reluctantly tore his gaze from the King, not wanting to relent his silent torrent of accusations and channeled hate which roared fiercely in the absence of spoken word. The three started back in to the shadows. It was to be another night in the dungeon – the last night.