His weakness…
Niklaus didn’t realize he’d been screaming all over again until a piercing sound emanating from the walls woke him, making him cringe and slap his hands over his ears. His throat was raw, his cheeks wet with tears.
He was almost glad for the sound, if only because it drew him out of a terrible place, but as quickly as the sound had started, it tapered off, leaving a slight ringing in his ears.
Niklaus moved to sit up, flexing his arms, feeling the strength returning. His back was itching like mad, but he was thankful for this because it meant he was healing. The physical pain was finally dulling, the mental…well that still lingered.
For a while, Niklaus had forgotten about the echoing noise that had woken him from his nightmare, at least until it started again, seeming louder than last time. This time, when it tapered off, it was only gone for seconds before it started back up again. Time and time again, the sound came to life, ringing ever louder.
He had mistakenly tried to time it, wanting to prepare himself for the next burst, but soon the intervals in which it played changed, making him wary every time silence filled the room.
Next came the lights.
From complete darkness to the brightest and hottest lights he had ever seen. They nearly blinded him, making his head pound as his pupils dilated painfully. For the longest time, the two sensory items alternated, working in accord until he was on the floor, just trying to remember how to breathe.
Soon, he thought he heard a voice within the shrill sounds, and was almost inclined to laugh at the thought. Even in his miserable state, he never forgot that the door was still there, waiting for his failure and cowardice to bring him to it, but even as the pain went on, and he finally found himself crawling across the floor for it, his arm shaking terribly as he reached for the knob, he never opened it.
A piece of him, no matter how small that piece was, refused to let himself give up.
When he dropped his arms to his sides out of pure exhaustion, everything shut off once more and he was left to the darkness.
His old friend…
* * *
The door swung open, making Niklaus jolt as he rolled to see who stood there. He felt wired, his movements jerky as he forced himself to a sitting position, trying to get a better look at the man coming towards him.
He couldn’t be much older than Niklaus, maybe a few years, but he had the eyes of a man that had seen many things. Unlike before, he was not wearing a mask. At least Niklaus thought he was one of the men that had dragged him into this room based on the tattoos that circled his forearm.
Or was that somebody else?
Niklaus was losing it…
In one hand he held a plate, in the other a glass of water.
How long had it been since Niklaus last ate?
He couldn’t care less about the food, his attention focused solely on the water. They both were set down a few feet from him, but Niklaus waited until the man took a step back before reaching for the water, drinking it down as fast as possible, not noticing that because of his trembling hands, water was sliding down his chin and wetting his shirt.
As the man backed away, Niklaus’ grip on the glass grew tighter. He didn’t know how much more he could withstand. The man from the alley had been right. Physical torture was one thing, this was worse…and they hadn’t even touched him. His will was slowly deteriorating.
Hesitating in the doorway, his arms now folded across his chest, he took a moment to study Niklaus, seeming to reach a conclusion.
His next words both fortified Niklaus’ resolve and terrified him more.
“Do not fear death,” he said in a gravelly, lilting accent. “Embrace it. Pain is inevitable, learn to love it.”
Chapter Eight
His hand out beside him, Niklaus tapped out a cadence on the concrete with his thumb and middle finger, forming a rhythm that only he could understand. After his last visitor, no one else came back to the room, but the lights and sounds had started right back up. He had eaten the food brought to him, and ended the stomach pains he hadn’t realized were plaguing him.
This time, even as the madness crept ever near, he didn’t try to block it out—didn’t try not to feel anything. Instead, he gave himself over to it, letting the sounds penetrate his ears and the lights bleed into his eyes and warming his skin. He held onto the man’s words like a lifeline, finally giving himself over to the very thing that was threatening to take him over.
Madness. He was beginning to welcome him like an old friend…