The Price of Power—Perses' Descent

[Koloss17]

Week One

Perses woke with a start. How long had he been out? Immediately, Perses tapped hearingsense. It was empty. Rusts rusts rusts rusts. Perses' heartbeat spiked, his heart pounding, his breath frantic. Feeling around, he reached for the wall. He was met with a smooth surface, which felt odd and waxy. Knocking his fist on it, it made a glassy twang.

His breathing slowed. He traced his hand around the room, feeling for the door. Opening the door, he felt the other side of the door. Waxy, glass. Good. Closing the door, he sank to the floor. Trying to control his heart rate, he laid there. He was safe.

Perses had only been trapped in Wickwillow Manor for a few weeks, but it felt like an eternity. He always had difficulty telling the time, but it was near impossible within this manor. There was an occasional wind that blew through the manor, but each time he sought it out, the winds disappeared. He was convinced at this point that the manor wanted him to be trapped. He had hoped someone would have come and rescued him, but he had all but given up on that by now. Harmony, he was so lonely.

His stomach panged in hunger. It was natural, of course. His rations were nearly out, and he would need to go out exploring once more. However, he first had to restore his senseminds. Sitting in this room of mirrors, he should be safe from the creatures that lurked in the shadows. With a shaky exhale, he stored his senses. Everything went dark.

He was used to darkness, in some way. Perses had been blind his whole life. For most of his life, he saw it as a curse. Had he just been born with sight, he would have been seen as useful to others. Instead, his life had been one of constant struggle, trying to prove to others that he was worth something. He was a better shot than most, and had more awareness than anyone around him, and almost never got snuck up on. But the mere fact that he couldn't see is what stifled his chances.

And could he see now, he wouldn't be here. Trapped in a constantly morphing, maze-like manor, being hunted by creatures that could make no sound, and could be anywhere at any time. However, their one fear was mirrors, and seeing their own reflection. The one thing that Perses could never see.

These were the sort of things he thought about as he stored his senses. While storing, he couldn't hear anything, smell anything, or feel his surroundings. He couldn't even hear his heartbeat. He was cut off from the world, with only his thoughts to keep him company. At least his hunger pains went away. He couldn't hide them forever, as he needed the reminder. But for now, he needed it stored. Sadly, he would run out of painminds at some point, and would have to either tap them or find more bronze. He hadn't found anything pure enough to use, but he still had hope.

Frankly, it was all he had.

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This is going to be a series of posts about Perses' experience trapped in Wickwillow Manor, and his descent into madness. This takes place between Era 6 and 7, and I will be occasionally updating it as I see fit. I hope this will give you some context as to how Perses became who he is now, and I hope you enjoy my writing! 

However, please do not comment on  this, as I want it to be a journal-like thread.

 

Edited February 12 by Koloss17

[Koloss17]

 

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Content Warning: suicidal thoughts and self hate.

Week Three

Perses wandered the halls of the Manor. What room was it this time? Feeling around, he reached a table. On it there was a newspaper, a pot, and a mug. Perses' heart rate rose. Feeling the inside of the cup, he was met with a wet liquid. Yes! Tapping his dwindling scentmind, he smelled the contents of the cup. Coffee. Cold, stale coffee. Perses chugged the cup, storing taste. His thirst was far from gone, but he took what he could. His stomach ached like hell, but he needed the reminder. Every day without food, his will to resist storing his hunger away lessened. It would be an easy death. Perses thought. Store away the pain, the hunger, the thirst. Fade away, to your forever sleep. It was so very tempting.

Perses felt around the table further, and his hand landed on a few coins. Hope welled in him. Tapping his scentmind once more, he held the coins up to his nose. Nothing but his own stench. Excitedly, he tried to store smell into the coins. Slowly, his smell dwindled to nothing. A smile creased Perses' face. New metalminds! This was huge. He had managed to lose a couple of his tinminds in a previous venture. He needed to get these back to base. 

And so, with the sound of coins clinking in his pockets, Perses began to attempt to retrace his steps.

 

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A few hours later

Of course, that didn't go well. The Manor had shifted. Perses tried desperately over the past however many days, or weeks, it had been to figure out a pattern to the Manor's shifting. He was beginning to think that there wasn't one, but he still had hope. Rusting hope. How did he keep going? He wasn't getting out of here. Why bother surviving? Perses didn't know the answer to that question. Somehow, he just had to keep going. 

He had a good bit left of his hearingminds, which he needed to maneuver the Manor. He had stumbled into the clock room, with an always burning fire. This was often a great resting point. Did he dare rest? His legs ached for rest. Perses reached the rocking chair, and sat down. Maybe a brief rest... His eyes were always closed, nowadays. Saved energy. Made him more tired, but it was a worthwhile trade. The warmth of the fire washed over him. This place is much more comfortable than his room. Why not move here?

Suddenly, his lifesence alerted him of the presence of something entering the room. A chill went down Perses' body. Hastily storing lifesense, he remained completely still, trying to stay his heartbeat. He made his breath silent, blending in with the furniture.

He waited. He didn't know how long, but he never did. Time was something he lost a long time ago.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Click. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Tentatively, Perses stopped storing lifesense. Nothing. Exhaling, Perses fell to the ground. He began shaking, tears welling up. He couldn't keep doing this. H-he couldn't keep living like this. Why was he here? Why did it want him? He was nobody. He was less than nobody. Why do you want me? "WHY DO YOU WANT ME???"

Perses laid there on the floor. He heard nothing but his heartbeat, breathing, and sobs. Wishing, hoping the housekin would take him. End this suffering. End this misery. Harmony knows he couldn't end his own suffering. He hated the Mansion, but more, he hated himself. Hated that he was born. Hated that he was here. Hated that he didn't have the guts to end it all.

 

Slowly, Perses got up and walked to the other door. Robotically, he reached the end of the hallway and opened the door. The scent of urine and stale food overwhelmed his senses. Of course it was in the next room. 

Closing the door, Perses sunk to the floor. Home at last.

[Koloss17]

Week Five

Perses was convinced that the House wanted him mad. It certainly didn't want him dead, at least not yet. When he was out of food, the House provided. After he was starving and nearly dead, that was. When he was dying from thirst, water was there. However, Perses always had to work for it. One time he had to climb onto a chandelier to get to a single glass. And of course, the faucets never had running water. Well, not in a long time. He always had to check these days, but he thought it was just the House giving him false hope. He had long since given up on finding his own way out. The House wouldn't have let him go anyway. Why it wanted him, Perses didn't know. Maybe the House had tried this before, and the others were smart enough to end it themselves.

Yet, just to spite it, Perses wouldn't give in. He would live. He would survive. He would. Not. Break. "You'll never break me," Perses sneered. "At least not with your current tactics." At this point, he was hardly even scared of the Housekin anymore. They haven't done anything to him but wander. Were they trapped here too? Best not to sympathize with the creatures. They certainly didn't pity him. 

 

These were the thoughts he had as he headed back home. Two lefts, one right, straight ahead, past the fire, to the left, and three rights. He took these as he thought them, with the House being strangely consistent with this area. He was glad for it though. Maybe the House could only move certain areas of the manor. Maybe Perses had found a safe-haven.

However, as Perses made his final turn, he reached a wall. Not a problem. He walked around the location. Why is the fireplace room here? A sense of dread formed in his stomach. Clearly, the house could still mess with this area. Well, no matter. Perses could find a way back. He always did...

[Koloss17]

Week Six

Perses wandered the shifting hallways. He didn't even know if they were hallways anymore. The walls felt like walls, but what if they weren't? He had never been able to actually see them anyways. Maybe the House could mess with more than just the walls. Could he even trust his own senses?

No. That's how the House gets him. That's what it wants. 

Perses let out a raggedy laugh, which turned into a scream. "YOU WANT ME? YOU WANT ME?" Perses stumbled to the floor. "well you'll have to try better than that," he whispered into the ground. House wouldn't get him. It would waste its time with him for the rest of Perses' life. If the House wanted whatever it wanted, the only way it could get that is to give up on him. 

Perses got up and marched onward. Where to, he didn't know. He hadn't ever managed to return to his home, and hadn't even smelled a glimpse of it in ages. Though after the first few times sleeping in the hallways, he no longer feared it. It was ground like any other, and if he died in his sleep, he wouldn't complain. He was the bloody Survivor. Once he was out of this hellhole, he would have powers like no other. A mistborn. No, better. It was just a matter of time before he--

 

A wave of cold enveloped Perses' body. He felt an icy cold hand touch his chest, and then pushing through him. He slumped down, immobilized. Everything went dark. His senses refused to work.

All Perses could do was feel. He felt hands work their way up his body. Beginning on his stomach and moving to the chest, they worked. Another set of hands grabbed a hold of his feet. The chill was enough to make him want to scream. Yet he couldn't.

Slowly, oh so slowly, the hands worked their way up his body. Atop the neck, winding ever upward. The hands were now enveloping him, taking over what little thought he had left.

With a jolt, he felt the hands sink into his flesh. Through his skull, clasping his mind. Fear overwhelmed him, but he couldn't even hear his heart beating. 

Sleep, Perses.