"I hate them! I hate them, I tell you! They can burn for all I care!"
In a small, empty room, located at the top of an ominous, obsidian tower that spiralled up in a helix, a boy cursed the world itself.
"How dare they! How fucking dare they do this to me!!!"
His hateful screaming fell on deaf ears, as not a soul could hear him. He was alone in this menacing tower, a prison for him and him alone.
This prison had the barebone essentials needed for the boy to survive. He only had access to the top five floors of the tower. The tower was a mega structure, reaching over 200 meters in altitude. Yet the only known resident of this colossal structure was a young boy, 15 years of age.
This prison had been his home for 3 months now, confined to the top floors of this haunting tower with not a soul to keep him company. He received basic rations of stale bread and filthy water that was green in colour, he knew not where they came from nor how they appeared there.
"Those bastards! I'll kill them! Each and every single one of them will die by these hands!"
Even when there was no one around to hear him, he screamed his hateful words, something he had done for the whole time he had spent locked up in this tower. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, the boy seemed insane. Though he expected nothing to come from his futile shouting, he understood how pointless it was. Yet he still persevered in his pointless screaming, he expressed his hatred as if he was hoping that his voice would reach the heavens.
The boy, thirsty from his exhaustive shouting, walked over towards today's water jug and poured himself a glass. The liquid was foul and tasted nothing like the clean water he had drunk on before his imprisonment. The flavour was disgusting, this so called water tasted like horse swill, something not even the most penniless of peasants would drink.
He looked around his barebones tower, he had five whole floors to himself, yet those rooms were as good as empty. It was pointless really, though it did give him the opportunity to stretch his legs occasionally by going on short walks around his large prison.
"Those bastards! Locking me up in this shitty tower, with mouldy bread and sewage water as my only sustenance!" He spat, after having finished gulping down the vile liquid.
If someone were to look upon the boy, then they couldn't be faulted if they mistook him as a walking corpse. He was sickly thin, only skin and bones, looking like a skeleton with a layer of flesh covering the bones. His hair as dark as the night sky, was unkept falling down past his shoulders, the greasiness was evident and he clearly looked like he had not washed in months. His eyes, matching his hair, were pitch black and red lines were visible on the sclera, his fatigue obvious. His cheeks were sunken and dark bags lingered under his eyes. Everything about him looked unhealthy, it was a miracle that he was still alive.
The boy followed his usual routine, consisting of; some light exercise, push-ups, sit-ups, planks, squats, albeit with incredible difficulty, having a small portion of his daily rations, cursing the names of those who had imprisoned him, finishing the rest of his daily rations, and then finally sleeping. This had been his routine for the best part of these 3 arduous months. He exercised even though he didn't have sufficient fuel to do so, which caused him more harm than good, amplifying his already torturous hunger.
The boy was barely maintaining his sanity, using his hatred as a pillar to keep him focused. The loneliness that comes with isolation threatened to cause his mind to slip, he used his hatred as an anchor to keep himself sharp and alert.
Today was like any other day, though tonight he planned to take an insane risk, something that not even a madman would think of ever attempting. He went about his usual routine, eating, drinking, hating, and so on. Come nightfall, he prepared for his desperate attempt of escape. His last resort.
Grabbing a bread knife, one of the few utensils that were actually provided for him, he held it in his right hand and extended his left forward. And without hesitation he sliced his own wrist, due to the nature of the blade the cut was anything but clean. Blood dripped from both his wrist and the blade, a mad yet pained smile laid upon his face.
"Sprits, Gods, Demons, or whoever the fuck is watching! I call upon you and offer the royal blood that flows through my veins! Lend me strength, give me your blessings, so that I may achieve my revenge and claim what is mine! Do so and I will not fail to entertain you!" He continued to saw at his wrist, more and more blood accumulated, drenching both the knife and the floor where he stood.
Not a noise could be heard, other than the muffled, pained shrieks and the sawing of the blade as it reached bone.
"Hmmm, interesting. I suppose I could offer you some power. You can stop with the needless self-harm now." An ethereal voice sounded in the boy's mind, causing him to cease his sawing, his wrist now an absolute mess. The bones were carved halfway through, blood splattered across his entire forearm and dirtying his already shabby clothes.
"W-who's there?!?" He didn't actually believe it would work, it was his last ditch effort, a true shot in the dark. He was prepared to die after this attempt, expecting it to fail. Yet it didn't, and as such he was quite bewildered.
"You want an introduction? Isn't it common practice to introduce yourself first when calling upon someone? Or do manners not exist in your world?" The voice belonged to some unknown male entity, one the boy couldn't even begin to guess the identity of.
"Fine then! My name is Dante Delerius Von Brutus, rightful heir to the throne of the Martarian Empire!" He mustered up, trying to sound as prideful as possible to mask his confusion.
"Quite a mouthful of a name you have there. I suppose it would only be proper that I should introduce myself now. I am Kai, Emperor and founder of the realm of Prosperity, firstborn of the supreme immortal, and ruler of all magic! I shall grant you the blessing of fire, your flames will be absolute, eternal, and unstoppable!"
With that, some unknown power seemed to take root within Dante, the ember of power grew and grew, eventually encapsulating his entire being; body, mind and soul. His disfigured arm began repairing itself, regenerating at an unthinkable speed, with a warm comforting fire seemingly undoing any harm and essentially erasing the wound.
"It's a modest power, though by your standards it could be considered quite impressive. Make good use out of it, or don't, not that it really matters since it is of no consequence to me."
The voice, Kai, seemed to be moderately amused by Dante's dumbfounded reaction, the scrawny boy had fallen onto his arse and his jaw had dropped to a comical degree.
"W-what is this? What are you? Why are you helping me?" Dante stammered an assortment of questions, still in shock of this alien power that he had received.
"Are you deaf? I told you it is a blessing of fire, it seemed to be a suitable one for you, given that the flames of rage burn deeply within you. I have already introduced myself, do I need to repeat myself? I have given you this power out of curiosity, I am interested in seeing what you can accomplish if given the strength to achieve your goals." The voice began answering Dante's hurried questions in tandem, though his answers were somewhat unsatisfactory for Dante.
"What's the catch? There's no such thing as a free meal in life, what is it that you want from me?" Dante having now regained some of his senses, began to think a bit more rationally, after all it wouldn't make sense for a stranger to give you something and expect nothing in return. It didn't matter if that stranger was a greater power, one does not give power as a form of charity.
"Catch you say? Ahh, I suppose I could think of something to help ease your suspicions. How about you try not to get yourself killed? Or let me know when you're going to burn someone alive, after all my children will occasionally be watching." The mysterious voice gave a slight chuckle, when delivering his words.
"That's it? Just staying alive and letting you know when I kill? And wait you have children?!" Dante was yet again dumbfounded, the price of this strange power he had received was practically nothing.
"You sure do ask a lot of questions, you're lucky I'm so magnanimous as to answer them. Yes that is it, that is all I ask of you. And why wouldn't I have children? I am an Emperor, it is expected of me to have an heir or two! Now hurry up and escape this sorry excuse for a tower, this is no place for a Prince. I have a realm to rule, children to raise and a wife to please. Hurry up and break out already!"
Dante heeded the whimsical deity's commands and made his way to the lowest of the 5 floors he had been allowed. The door, leading to the stairs that takes you to the lower floors, that separated him from the rest of the tower was made of some unknown material. This door that had previously seemed so invincible, was now melting from the mere touch of Dante's hand. Just like that, he had now escaped the horrid birdcage that had trapped him for the past 3 months.
He began descending the seemingly endless tower, walking down the spiralling steps that continued on for what felt like an eternity. The inner structure of the tower seemed to be hollow, having no substance up until the 5 floors where Dante had resided. Though there were other floors, they were just located at the very bottom of the hideous tower, although with a gap that would spell instant death if one were to fall from the height that he walked.
After what felt like an eternity, he had reached the door to the inside of one of these floors. He didn't possess a key to this door, but he had no need for such a thing and swiftly reduced the door to a puddle of molten metal. Taking a step over this puddle, he entered and gazed upon the interior of the open room that spanned the entirety of this floor. The contrast between this and his own was laughable, it was absurd to even believe that this was the same dreary tower that had been his prison. A hollow laugh escaped Dante's chapped lips, his face then tightened and his disgust was written all across it.
This giant hall was beyond luxurious, borderline obnoxious, with the walls draped with a regal crimson wallpaper and lined with golden patterns and designs, large paintings were placed around the hall. A large golden chandelier, that used gemstones infused with mana as a light source, hung from the high ceiling, an assortment of ornaments and artistic pieces were also spread around by the walls.
Within this pretentious hall, there were a variety of individuals of considerable wealth, draped in their finest garments. It appears some sort of event was occurring, these wealthy people had to have gathered for some sort of reason.
'Why the hell is there something like this in this dreary shit hole of a tower. And especially one that is used as a prison, which dumbass thought of this. I swear some people are so desperate to seem different and stand out, so much that they'd resort to shit like this.'
Dante was repulsed, whilst he was starving and barely received enough nutrients for him to survive, these people were sipping on fine wine and feasting until they're bellies were full.
"Ew, what a disgusting hall. Whoever designed this filth should be sent to the gallows, this is a crime to all those with functioning eyes. Is this common taste among the nobility and high class of your nation?"
Kai conveyed his repulsion straight to Dante's mind, Dante agreed with him, it really was a pretentious display of wealth, frankly he found it tacky. 'Of course not! Only the eccentrics, insane, or attention seekers would enjoy this shit.'
Dante walked further in, catching the attention of the guests, staring at him with disgust and outrage. Dante didn't care though, after all none of these people mattered to him, he was a Prince, as such he didn't concern himself with the thoughts of sheep. Plus the fact that none of these people were going to leave here alive.
Dante had yet to fully explore his new power, but he was certain that he could kill all those present within this tower, no one here seemed to have any considerable strength. Before any of the snobby guests could voice their distain, one was already rendered to nothing but ash. He knew what sort of people had gathered here, they were far from innocent and were suitable targets for Dante to vent some of his anger.
This was a collection of the corrupt and the depraved, Dante did not feel any remorse after having burned them all, cremating them whilst they still lived. Leaving nothing but ash scattered across the flooring and hideous carpet, that laid at the centre of the room. Dante feasted upon the food and wine that they had so graciously left for him, stuffing himself completely.
He then proceeded down to the next floor, which was surprisingly empty, it appeared to be a sort of waiting room for any of the guests, which had now so tragically left this world. Wasting no time, Dante descended further and reached another floor. This one was far from empty, a large kitchen spanned across the whole floor, dozens of work stations being occupied by busy chefs and kitchen staff. 'They must have been catering for that party, I'll leave these people be. No need to harm the innocent, I'm not that far gone in the head.'
Dante exited the door and reached his fourth floor, or rather the first above the ground floor. Inside a few men were sat on plain sofas laughing and drinking on some of the wine, that they had managed to swipe from the kitchen. He was not noticed, and decided to listen in on what the men were speaking about, they appeared to be guards due to the uniform that they wore.
"These snobby nouveau riche and lower nobility weirdos sure do drink well bahaha. Can you believe that they have hundreds of these bottles?" One of the man slurred his words out, hiccupping and laughing noisily. As did all the other guards, they were all clearly drunk, Dante continued to listen in on their conversation.
"Compared to them, that brat gets to drink on horse piss, Pfft. How the fuck is the kid still alive? We've been ordered to give him a slow and miserable death, feed him nothing but scraps and give him only sewage for drink. Persistent little fucker, why doesn't he just die already?! I'm sick of this shitty tower!" All the guards seemed to share this opinion, nodding along with the man's words.
Dante didn't need to hear anymore, he knew it must have been these men that were responsible for his sorry state, he just needed confirmation and that was exactly what he got. Dante walked slowly up to them, drawing their attention and causing a stupefied look to appear on all of their faces. He placed his bony hand on the head of the guard that was speaking.
"Fuck you." Dante snarled with mirth.
Heat ran through his hand and into the body of the foolish drunk whose body began to bubble and melt, he swiftly became a fleshy blob on the floor. The rest of the guards met the same fate, with six ugly blobs now on the floor.
Dante exited the door and descended to the ground floor, towards his freedom. He reached the bottom of the spiralling stairs and was now in the empty bottom of the tower, he walked towards the large obsidian-coloured double doors and burned them down to nothingness.
"Good work kid, I recommend finding somewhere safe to escape to. You need rest and recuperation. I suppose I'll be going now. I'll catch up with you later, and remember to stay alive!" The voice left, leaving Dante on his own.
He was gazing upon the sky, seeing sunlight for the first time in months. A smile appeared on his face as he inhaled fresh air, something that seemed so alien to him now. He spread his twig-like arms wide.
"I'm free!"