Life, Locks, and Lamentations

NOTE : *"text"* signifies that Terem cannot understand the language.

Terem Mangelle awoke to the smells of blood, sweat, and death. His body felt weak as if he had been fasting for weeks on nothing but thin broth only to barely scrape by. A sorry attempt to open his eyes proved his own senses correct.

Terem attempted again only to be gifted with the same result as the first time.

'Why am I so weak?' Terem's endeavor to speak ended as soon as he realized that his mouth, like the rest of his body, wouldn't conform to his will. Several attempts later, a sound finally came out.

"Waaaaaaa-!" Terem quickly cut himself off as the wailing, high-pitched screech of a newborn child escaped from his mouth.

'What was that? Was that really me? Am I so weak that I can't even articulate my thoughts properly anymore or did Lucifer curse me with a crippling disability before he died? Or was my soul transmigrated into the body of a pathetic child? Maybe that's why he was smiling.' Terem's thoughts were quickly interrupted by an unknown rattling voice.

*"Ah, good. At least this one wasn't a complete failure."*

The new voice monotonously droned further, talking to the air or itself. Unfortunately, Terem had no idea what language the unidentified person spoke so he reverted his attention to seizing control over his dangerously weak body while he brainstormed for possible scenarios that could explain his current predicament.

'Maybe killing Lucifer did break the contract and I did get sent to another realm or world like it stated or I could be back on Earth in a different country. These theories would explain the unfamiliar language, but what about my body? Could my weakened state be a curse from Lucifer? Or maybe it is the physical burden from dimensional travel or the strain from having my soul removed and reinserted into my body.' No matter how hard Terem thought, no answer seemed more plausible than his theory that his soul had been implanted into the pathetic body of a newborn babe.

'Annoying, but I have time. No need to rush anything.' Terem thought. Without wasting further energy, he averted all his focus back towards hastening his recovery.

However, Terem's concentration was soon interrupted by a cold hand grasping him in a vice-like grip. The hand-shaped object felt akin to a metal container filled with liquid nitrogen. It was simply that cold. On the bright side, Terem found out that his sense of touch was as keen as his sense of smell; however, the chilly hand began to move him from the wet surface he was on towards an unknown location.

At the same time, Terem began to feel uneasy. He began to doubt that his wish would ever arrive so with all the strength he could muster within his frail body, he forced both of his eyes open.

A dreary stone room greeted him. Half of the room was packed with tables stained dark with various substances. Machines and equipment were scattered about the walls, some emitting an eerie purple or red glow showing that they were indeed functional. Strewn among the equipment and across the tables were various glass containers, all emptied and abandoned as if they had already served their purposes.

However, at the center of the room, a large glass tube filled with a watery liquid towered over everything. The green lights surrounding it seemed to demand the attention of everyone that entered the area. This container was where Terem was being carried towards.

Finally, due to the strain from forcing his eyes wide open and from the cold infiltrating his body, Terem fainted. Though, the figure carrying Terem didn't seem to care and continued walking with the limp newborn in its arms. The creature arrived in front of the tank and held out its hand.

*"Freeze... Unlock... Open"*

Two pulses of light emanated from the being's palm only to dissipate on contact with the container's surface. Seconds elapsed and nothing noticeable happened.

-Crack-

-Pssshhhh-

Along with the sounds, a circular hole opened up on the side of the container yet no liquid flowed out. The figure forced the newborn through the hole, submerging Terem in the liquid before releasing him and removing his hand from the container.

*"Undo... Life vessel module, begin the activation sequence."*

With these words, the creature stared at the container before nodding, seemingly satisfied with its work. With a wave of its hand, it disappeared leaving the child alone with only the lights of the tank as a friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terem awoke alone but revitalized. Energy coursed through his body as he felt his body floating, trance-like, within a warm fluid that gently molded around his body as if it was giving him a warm embrace.

Terem drew his first conscious breath since arriving within his new home thinking about how advanced the technology that this new world possessed to provide a child with such blissful comfort. These were his first two mistakes: breathing and assuming.

Pain ravaged his body as the viscous liquid was forcefully drawn into his lungs. The surreal sensation of drowning shocked Terem's eyes wide open and pushed his prior life's senses into overdrive.

Instinctively, Terem screamed only to have a pathetic burst of bubbles escape from his small lips. Strangely though, he didn't tire. Even while his arms flailed and the searing pain was amplified due to his panicked breathing, his body overflowed with vigor and felt as if it was brimming with power.

What seemed like hours passed and finally, the pain died down enough for Terem to maintain two thoughts at the same time. Through his headache, Terem forcefully raised his head, teeth grit together in an attempt to ward off the feeling that his skull was about to rupture.

What Terem saw, however, wasn't what he expected to see. First off, the characteristic tables and equipment remained strewn about the room. Devices of unknown function still crammed the walls reminding Terem of crowded lines that always seemed to manifest in front of the mall mere hours before Christmas Eve. What Terem didn't remember, though, were the numerous mounds neatly arranged upon the tables on the opposing side of the room.

He stared at the mounds intently, fearing what they might become. The nearest tables to him proved to stimulate his fears, convincing him that the mounds were once flesh and the remaining stains were blood. However, he still doubted himself. He was fine with blood, entrails, and corpses, but what really made him want to doubt himself was what the corpses represented.

The next few rows of tables proved to be little help since either the mound had too much flesh to be recognizable or nothing but dark green splatters to prove that the tables had been used. Still, Terem peered further into the distance straining his eyes against the deepening shadows.

Finally, his eyes adjusted enough to make out the colors and shapes fabricating the formless mounds upon the last row of tables, despite the dull ache signaling his lungs' unceasing protestations against their unnatural current condition.

The back row further revealed masses of formless corpses as Terem's eyes traveled from the right hand wall towards the left; however, after the fifth table, the forms began to appear more familiar. A tiny thread of worry began to creep into his mind. He began to scan at a faster pace, dreading the implications of what he might find on the last table, but his eyes only reached halfway across the row before locking up.

A new pain coursed through Terem's body. At first, he didn't recognize it as his own, but soon it made its plea known. Terem finally acknowledged the foreboding ache he felt.

Terem had fallen into despair.

For on that table, lied the first recognizable corpse. The carcass of a young maiden strapped to a metal table, blood still flowing from around her neck and more pooling around her limp, lifeless legs.

'Am I going to die here?' Only this thought offered Terem the respite from pain that he once coveted and now feared.