"Death Snare..." A deep whisper rumbled in his ears.
A pair of hazel eyes sprang open accompanied by a sharp gasp, with blurry, unfocused sight, and a throbbing headache.
All he saw was a spinning, dim, red room—no, his sight was spinning.
Swearing beneath his breath, he tried to move his hand to massage his head but found his limbs stuck in place.
’Am I alive or dead?’
He blinked and shook his head to clear his foggy sight.
His foggy vision grew clearer until he regained his sight, just to see a neatly arranged crowd of humans, dressed in black cloaks that hid their bodies and faces, standing a few meters from him while loudly chanting gibberish. The only thing he could barely understand was a word that sounded like his name, Jareth, being yelled in between the chant. Besides, the language was both familiar and foreign.
His head snapped left and right, with his eyes darting around to better understand the situation, and the sight made him shiver.
Jareth found his limbs shackled in an ’X’ position to a glowing red wall behind him that illuminated the room in a dim shade of dark red. The walls surrounding them were rugged and rocky. Everything in the place was eerie.
He gulped. ’I-Is this hell? I remember, I was in my room, right?’
Jareth turned to the chanting crowd to say something when they all suddenly exploded and transformed into a violet haze, and surged towards him.
His eyes trembled at this sight. He struggled to dodge the surging violet haze, but was held by the shackles.
The violet haze rushed and disappeared into his body through his orifices, and Jareth screamed as a maddening pain wracked his body.
His muscles bulged as he writhed. His pupils dilated. violet veins protruded from his neck. Clenching his fist, he struggled to escape the shackles, but it was a futile attempt.
The pain kept increasing until he passed out.
***
When he woke up, he looked around while feeling a pounding headache and stiff muscles, so he shifted for a more comfortable position.
"Ugh..."
What happened came rushing into his memory. His voice paused because he was still in the room. He looked around the room, painted red by the dimly glowing red wall behind him, and saw a bunch of black cloaks sprawled on the floor.
In the center, he spotted a black cloaked person staring at him while sitting on his knees.
His heart skipped a beat.
Suddenly, the man yelled with a thunderous voice, "Welcome the Supreme One to Arkados. I, your humble servant, who carried out the instruction for your revival, await your instructions."
Followed by a pious bow as he pressed his forehead on the floor.
’... Huh?’
He quickly deduced, ’He thinks I’m the Supreme One. But am I? Wait... I heard them yelling my name between their chants. Was it really my name? Or something that sounded like my name? When did I become the Supreme One? Besides, the language is new to me but I can still understand it. What mysticism is going on? When did nightmares become so real that they have their own language?’
He collected himself, returning to his senses.
’It’s not time to think about other stuff. Moreover, a Supreme One, wouldn’t end up as pathetic as me.’
His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings. He was sitting on an ancient bronze throne, that was placed against the wall he was previously shackled to. In front of him were black cloaks that littered the floor with the man kowtowing in the center.
It made his skin crawl as he vividly recalled that there were many people wearing these cloaks before he passed out, but they had all vanished and mysteriously entered his body.
A gleam flashed in his eyes.
’I will just pretend to be the Supreme One to save my life and get out of here, then get help outside.’
Inhaling lightly not to make a sound, he reclined into the chair, widened his legs, rested his hands on the armrest of the throne, and made a solemn, dignified and regal expression.
Then he periodically tapped his right hand on the armrest every three seconds, really a gong sound that vibrated through the silent room.
After fifteen seconds, he halted his action, plunging the room into an oppressive silence.
’Now the atmosphere is set.’
"Arise," he said in a deep voice,
The man respectfully stood up.
Jareth could barely see his face because of the cloak, except his lower jaw with lightly trimmed beard.
"Lead me to the city around here," Jareth said calmly.
"Yes, Supreme One." He bowed.
Jareth stood up and walked towards him with an apathetic expression, but was inwardly nervous of his act getting exposed, and happy as he was about to escape the eerie room.
The man gestured at Jareth towards the wall opposite the red wall, which vibrated and slowly creaked open inward.
’A hidden door disguised as a wall.’
Nodding his head without showing any particular expression, he walked past the man towards the opening door.
Suddenly, a sharp pain burst through his chest. His fingers trembled and his eyes widened. Lowering his head, he saw a black blade jutting out of his chest. Blood dripped from the surface.
He laboriously turned his head, only to see the man had already distanced himself from him, with a chain connecting from the hilt of the sword on his back to the bracelet on the man’s wrist.
The man had lost the deference and subservience he previously displayed, now warily gazing at Jareth.
Jareth’s lips trembled as he tried to say something, but a tugging sensation from inside made his chest churn and he collapsed on the floor. He could feel the blade pulling something from his inside.
Darkness crawled into his vision.
Suddenly, he heard the man laughing boisterously.
In between his boisterous laughter, he roared at Jareth, "Haha... You never expected it, right? Who wants to be a subordinate? The Supreme One? Screw that rubbish. Aren’t you the one beneath my feet? Come get me if you’re the Supreme One. I did much research and found out that you guys will be weak when you first revive, and I realized it’s the best time to absorb your powers. I even tampered with the sacrifice. With this, I, Duke, will become the Supreme One. Brilliant, isn’t it?"
’This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.’ Jareth began convulsing on the floor.
A searing heat erupted from the blade. From his peripheral vision, Jareth saw the chain and the Duke’s bracelet glowing in a violet hue. He could see something dark, hidden beneath the violet hue, slithering through the chains towards Duke.
Duke closed his eyes to relish it.
The darkness that shrouded his vision thickened until he could barely see his surroundings. His eyelids grew heavier.
Suddenly, he heard Duke’s scream that sounded distant, "No! No! No! It isn’t supposed to be like this. Not like... Not... like... this..."
His voice kept dropping until it trailed off.
A golden light abruptly sprang in his darkness.
[Mana Source Absorbed: Caniblaze.]
[Awakening...]
And he passed out again.
***
Jareth’s eyes flickered open, and he sat up, blinking to clear his head when he suddenly froze as his memories came rushing back.
Lowering his head, he didn’t see any blade jutting out of his chest.
He sighed in relief as he looked around. ’What a scary nightma—’
But he lost his voice when he saw the scattered cloaks, glowing red wall, and bronze throne.
He sprang to his feet and vigilantly looked around.
But didn’t see anybody, except a silver bracelet, connected by a long chain to the hilt of a sword without a blade.
Goosebumps prickled his skin as his heart lurched.
He turned and dashed at the slightly opened door, not wanting to spend a second in the eerie place.
A few minutes after he left, a cloak rose up with a person mysteriously appearing inside it.
The person’s face was shrouded in darkness but was positioned as if gazing at the door through which Jareth had left.
After staring silently for a few minutes, the person disappeared.