Chapter 12 - The Abandoned Tower

The man with the pumpkin head put me through the "treatment" for I think a week. I lost track of time by waking up in the dark and disturbing rooms of the tower. It continued underground and was very large. One room in particular assured me of this man's failing mental health. It was a place I could never have dreamed of: the bathroom was filled with bronze pots that heated fat bones, to make soap I thought or glue that knows what this crazy mind could do with it. And mechanical arms mixed the contents at regular intervals. And while heads were watching me in this room that smelled of curdled milk, he let me wash myself alone, protected from his horrific eyes. The water woke me up from my torpor, my mental health sank fast, when would I have the opportunity to escape?

I would say that I was in the third basement in view of the stairs that I had borrowed, in other words, no wall that could be destroyed towards freedom would I have to escape the surveillance of my kidnapper. My stats had not changed since my trip to the City of Wolves, I was level 15 and I remained weak without my magic attack. Some state of mind like trauma could negatively affect the stats. I had to escape at all costs before that happened. Once my shower finished, I put the time lapse before it came to profit. I examined the room from top to bottom and unearthed some kind of red pills with written "Magic Strengthening" I hid them in my clothes as the man entered the room. I pretended to dust off my clothes, he grabbed my valid arm and took me to a room I had never seen before. It contained a red leather seat with iron fasteners and a single, very large panel that occupied the centre of the room.

After tying me up, the room sank into the dark and the pumpkin-headed man disappeared. Suddenly, the painting began to breathe. Slowly, the forms of the painting began to move. The lines accelerated to become a kind of modern film. However, the images were not pleasant. I suffered what I was looking at and my eyes refused to close, it was impossible for me to move. Then the sound of the system emerged: "-Notification! Following a mental attack, decreased ability to feel, increased red madness "

It was not good for me, this red madness impacted Wisdom by decreasing the mana circulation of the body. And the image did not stop. " -Notification! Following a mental attack ..." "-Notification! Following a mental attack ... ".

Soon my body would no longer respond to my will, I sank deeper into horror every minute spent contemplating this painting. From the runes I saw on the frame, it had to be an 'Anchor of the Spirit'. That is to say a painting that could freeze the memory in paint and repeat it to the one who contemplates it. To whom could belong all these visual horrors? The man with the head of pumpkin hid of black secret at last, He wasn't really hiding them.

Thirty minutes passed in the darkness, both mental and physical. " -Notification! After prolonged exposure to a mental attack, gain a +1 point in mind control". Curious! So what was the control of the mind related to? My mind failed greatly and I marvelled at any stimulus. Man then returned. Emerging from the double wooden door, he shouted: "Defeat belongs to those who do not rise! And you seem to be surviving our little game. I have to say that you're pretty strong inside.

As for the outside there is everything to do again, a few mana points, a little wisdom, a little strength but nothing impressive.

"Here, swallow this fast."

And he shoved a loaf of rice in my mouth. Then everything became more beautiful and serene. My spirit came back to him and I regained colors.

"I want to get out of here, I'll neutralize you if I have to!" I cried in his face.

"Still, you'd have to have the strength, just to survive, as Michael says." While he pointed to a goblin head cut off.