Chapter 2: Twisted Father Figure

John stared into the darkness from which the voice had come. His eyes tracing the nearly imperceptible outline of a tremendous humanoid form. The darkness was unnatural, an unbreachable bastion that held the light at bay. John's eyes narrowed, trying to gain more insight into what this figure was. The dull anger that caused his brief bout of insanity still radiated deep in his heart.

"Come now, John, there is no need to harbor such anger." The voice rolled out from the shadows and over him, causing the blue flames to dance wildly in the spaces between his bindings. It felt like the words carried a cold and malevolent weight. John began to feel a sense of unease.

Whatever this thing is, it's entirely unnatural and likely dangerous. He thought.

"I tire of your bewilderment; speak with me. I have other matters to which I must attend."

John opened his mouth to hurl an insult but caught himself. He closed his mouth and slowly said.

"How would you have me speak to what I cannot see, bound like a prisoner in your home? Tell your dog to untie me, and maybe I will speak to you." He turned to the courier and grinned. John took immense satisfaction in throwing the hooded figures' earlier insult back at him. A moment of silence reigned as he looked from the courier to the wall of shadow, his impatience growing to a fever pitch.

"Well? Are we going to have this chat or what?"

A sigh resounded from the shadows. "Unbind him."

The chains fell away, each link exploding into gray clouds of smoke as they clinked against the cold black floor. The blue flames, no longer constrained, spread along the entire length of his body. They grew bold and dark as if in outrage at being repressed for so long. John sighed and tried to rub his wrists and forearms where the chains had been grinding against him, but his hand went straight through again.

"For fuck's sake," he quietly spat while rolling his eyes. "I can't even have the satisfaction of working out the stiff muscles I can apparently have in this form."

John stood and walked forward towards the wall of shadow. The figure stepped forward to meet him. John froze as he watched the fifteen-foot-tall container of what could only be described as space begin to shrink. A pit formed in his stomach, his mind trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Entire superclusters of galaxies, countless planets, stars, and celestial bodies unknown to him sat contained within the body of this being. Worlds orbited suns, black holes ate entire systems, and stars exploded into dust with each step. The features of this being's body were outlined by a strange void-like substance that seemed to clash with reality at its edges. Just looking at the outlines caused sharp pains in John's mind.

"You are Kelldar; why did you bring me here?" He asked, looking above the being's shoulder to avoid the pain from looking directly at the being.

"I am called Kelldar, yes. As to why I brought you here, you see, that is a far more difficult question to answer without breaking a particular set of rules."

"What rules?" John asked.

"That is not the larger concern here, John; please, try to stay with me. The simplest answer I can give you is that you are needed for a certain task, which would require a strong soul such as the one you display. However, this task may seem quite… distasteful to a human, and I will assure you that this task is a necessary evil."

John narrowed his eyes but motioned for Kelldar to continue. The being sighed and, in a resigned voice, stated.

"I need a certain organization of, let's call them, tasteless charlatans. Dealt. With. They represent a dangerous set of ideals that could cause a group of mighty people related to this organization to become emboldened. And that would be very bad for my area of business."

John's eyebrows rose. "Are you asking me to kill an entire group of people? If that's what this is, not only will I tell you no, but hell no, not in a million years."

"Come now, John, we haven't the time for you to play the petulant child. If you succeed in your purpose, not only will you be rewarded, but I shall offer you a place by my side. I require capable men to rebuild what was lost long ago. A vast…"

"Look, Kelldar, I don't mean to cut you off here, but I'm not an assassin, and I have no interest in your grand plans of genocide and wholesale slaughter. I don't even care if these people are cannibals, zealots, or undead Nazis; it's not happening. I don't know if you've taken a good look at me, but I'm not exactly built for killing. So, can you send me to wherever ordinary people go after death? Like Heaven, I'm sure the real God is checking his clipboard for me at the pearly gates, and I'm not there! Because your hooded goon kidnapped my ghost!" John realized his voice had been scaling octaves, and he was shrieking at a god. His face flushed crimson, and he took a breath to calm himself. Once he felt centered, he continued.

" This is all far too edgy for my taste. Simply put, I will not be doing your bidding."

"Oh, but you will, John, you will do whatever I tell you. That, or I will end you."

John opened his mouth and paused before saying.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Starboy, but I'm already dead."

Kelldar sighed, lights of stars inside him faded, and the surface of the being took on an appearance of flesh. A nondescript man in his late fifties met John in the center of the room—an auburn shock of hair with deep widows peaks. The man's kind brown eyes ended in crow's feet, telling a story of joy and happiness. The man wore an unkempt long red beard and had a rounded belly covered by a dusty blue rock and roll band tee shirt. These familiar features that John had known for his entire life called forth memories of his father. This man, this creature, had taken the form of someone dear to him. John's face flashed through several expressions, first confusion followed by sorrow that led to horror. He stepped forward and roared at the being

"You, you slimy mother fucker. How dare you…"

The being surged forward and clamped a hand around John's neck.

"How dare I what… John." The being ground out through clenched teeth. His father's face was screwed up into a visage of anger that John had only seen once before, during a time that John's older brother was caught stealing cars for some local thugs. The face he had known for so long being worn as a mask was a terrifying sight that John reeled away from, trying to escape the hand around his throat.

"There will be no dictating terms here, John." The being's grip tightened, and the flames that had been so bold only moments before winked out entirely.

"You bare the fangs of righteous indignation towards what you can't comprehend like a barking dog. You are nothing. Worthless. To think I had plans for you, a greater purpose in your otherwise miserable existence. But you spit at the feet of a god." The being drew out the last word as he screamed, spittle flying from his father's mouth. His face fell flat as the being calmly continued. "I will find another soul to do my bidding. As for you, you are forsaken. You will, from now forward, live an existence of pain. I forsake you to a fate worse than death. You will go to a universe of magic and mystery where powerful beings walk with classes and levels. The very fabric of reality is dictated by the system that governs it. It is something you have dreamt about, is it, not John? You will go there as an outcast, and you will have none of it."

The being smiled viciously, the corners of his father's mouth spreading farther than what was natural on any human face. John struggled in the grip of this immense being, his breath coming in ragged wheezes. John grabbed and wrenched his captor's wrist; he planted his feet on the being's chest and pushed with every ounce of strength he could produce. However, the being's grip was unwavering, and the eyes he knew so well turned to crescent slits. Through its unnatural glee, the being continued in its monologue.

"Ahhh, but no. I won't send you away entirely empty-handed. Have this before you go."

The being raised its free hand; the glowing green light emitting from the hand was vile and sickly. The being slammed its palm into John's forehead and laughed a booming laugh as John screamed in agony. He fell into a nightmare of pain; the feeling of every molecule of his being exploding and being reborn only to die in an endless loop suffused him. The burning, searing pain in his head caused him to see only white. The glowing form of his body pulsed wildly, and he fell unconscious. The being grew back to his celestial form and tossed John's limp form to the floor, where it landed without a sound. A dusky green rune in the shape of a fractal infinity circled by black script had been branded onto him. It quietly pulsed with the same sickly green light that Kelldar had used to brand the rune into him.

"Dump him in a system world, and find me one more suitable." The being said as it walked back into the shadow of its throne.

"Pardon my insolence, but are you sure you don't want to use him? His soul fire is bold, and we are running out of time."

"You know the rules as well as I courier. We cannot force a soul to act against its base nature, and that boy will never capitulate to our demands. Do not afford yourself any worry over such a mundane human; there will be others as good or better. He will live a thousand deaths until his soul breaks."

"Why didn't you just kill him, Kelldar? My father is seeking me, and if he discovers what you have done…"

"Do not speak to me of that putrid wretch!" The being shouted, interrupting the courier. "Your father will die along with the rest of them when I am done. Now go. Find me a suitable soul and dispose of this trash on my floor."

"Very well, Sir." The courier bowed and collected John's body from the floor. With a single step, the pair were gone, and the sibilant whispers of the temple began their endless story once again.