Legends of Amacia Heart of Darkness

Several hours later at approximately 2:00 AM, the shadowy figure that had listened to Hannibal’s prayers returned to the door. The dungeon corridor leading to Hannibal’s cell was empty and dark as the figure strode boldly down to the door, seeing easily in the darkness of the corridor. The figure looked around and once satisfied that he was alone, picked the lock, and entered the cell.

The clunk of the door jarred Hannibal awake from a fitful sleep. She looked around in the darkness, sensing even in the clone body that someone was there. “What’s going on here,” she whispered, “Why’s my heart suddenly pounding like a jackhammer?” Yet, the stygian blackness of the cell kept her from seeing anything, even her own form. The sound of breathing and footsteps reached her ear. Chills raced down her spine. “Who’s there?” she called out as sweat beaded on her brow, fear racing through her mind along with nightmarish imaginings of what lay in the darkness. The footsteps stopped and for several moments, Hannibal only heard the breathing. “Come on, I know someone’s there,” she challenged.

A small red light suddenly appeared above her nearly eight feet off the floor. A rumbling growl followed and Hannibal’s fear exploded. Before Hannibal could call out again, a voice spoke from the darkness, centered close to the red light, saying softly, “Do not be afraid.” The light settled down to about four feet beside the bed, and then a sudden flash of light illuminated the cell. It was a dim light...just bright enough for Hannibal to see what had approached her. At first, Hannibal closed her eyes, turning her head away from the light, but when she recovered her eyesight, she turned back to the light and gawked at what she saw. Hannibal’s eyes fell upon the feline Xenian that had tranquilized his male body and Selina at their capture in Cush. The eight and a half foot Xenian was kneeling down next to the bed, leaning over and looking Hannibal in dead in the face. The light was emanating from an attachment on his cybernetic arm. The red light Hannibal saw emanated from Xenian’s cybernetic eye.

“You!” Hannibal breathed as she stared into the great feline’s face. The cat’s giant canines hung down like twin sabers from his upper jaw.

The Xenian moved in closer, getting right in Hannibal’s face and began to sniff and smell Hannibal’s clone body. At first, fear boiled in her breast and then she remembered the tiger at the Temple, the incident with the giant saber cat at Xavier Singh’s Watchtower, and the strange dream she had of the saber-toothed cat. With those incidents coming to memory, she calmed down as the beast backed off. “You smell like her, even in a body that isn’t your own,” the Xenian stated in a hushed tone. “That’s very strange. How is it that her scent still lingers on you in that body?”

“Who would that be?” Hannibal asked innocently.

“The one that was taken with you...the Lynxian,” the Xenian stated. “How can her scent still be on you in this body: a body not your own? You had no physical contact with her after being taken from the throne room.”

“I don’t know,” Hannibal admitted. “I don’t even know how the Emperor put me into this girl’s body, much less how Selina’s scent can follow me like that.”

“It’s really strange,” the Xenian replied, “You must have a connection to her that defies the Cadre’s science and technology. Are you mates?”

Hannibal hesitated, and then nodded, saying, “Yes. We’re mates, soul mates. We have been so for a long time. Though I can’t help but wonder how I’d ever return to being the man she married or if I’ll even see her again.”

The Xenian’s cyborg eye responded, opening up a little farther as he gazed at Hannibal. “Interesting,” the Xenian replied. Suddenly, a noise from outside the cell attracted their attention and the Xenian put out the light warning, “Shhh. Don’t say anything.” They were plunged into darkness again for a few moments as the sound of a sliding door echoed from the main door. The shaft of light came on over Hannibal’s position for about thirty seconds. Hannibal feigned being asleep. After the thirty seconds, the light went out along with the clunk of a sliding door being shut. Once more, all was silent, except for the breathing of the Xenian in the darkness.

After five minutes, Hannibal called out, “I think they’re gone.” She looked around, searching for the telltale red eye, finding it just a few feet away in the darkness. The Xenian lit his light again and Hannibal asked, “You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?”

The Xenian smiled slightly, saying nothing for a moment as he eyed Hannibal. “You haven’t much time left. The Emperor intends to break you and make an example of you in the Arena,” he stated.

Hannibal’s gazed narrowed as she asked, “What’s it to you, how and where I die? Who are you really?”

The great feline Xenian sighed, saying, “Like you, I too once used to be a man, long ago before the Cadre turned me into this monstrosity with their technology. It wasn’t by choice that I am what I am now. Long ago, I was a human…a prince. I had a family and a people. At least I think I did at one time. I remember them vaguely, like a fleeting dream: my sister and brother, even a family of my own. Ghostly faces, forgotten places: I can’t clearly remember any of it, not even my name. Only that I used to be human; a prince and not a freakish mechanized bioweapon.”

Compassion began to well up in Hannibal’s heart, which was curiously becoming more attuned to the female instincts and emotions of the body his male mind now inhabited. “I’m so sorry,” Hannibal murmured. “I know what it’s like not to remember things. Yet something brought you to me, even when in this demeaning state. Do you have a name?”

The Xenian paused for a moment, considering the request. “My name is not important right now,” he said seriously. “What is important is that the Emperor plans on breaking you on the sex floor in that body, and then returning your demolished mind to your real body, after which he’ll have you fight in the Arena against the best of his gladiators. It’s to be an execution of your mind and then your body.”

“Sex floor? What’s that?” Hannibal asked hesitantly. “Does it have anything to do with the women he apparently treats and mistreats as toys like he’s doing to me?”

“It does,” the Xenian stated grimly. “On the sex floor, your worst sexual nightmares will come true as he uses the machines to break your mind, will, and soul as he does to his other women. It’s the vilest, most diabolical place in all of Amacia: the true heart of his darkness. Unspeakable tortures and atrocities are committed on the women who’re taken there where their bodies and minds are ravaged by an insidious machine that answers only to the Emperor. The women taken there are strong-willed and rebellious. The Emperor uses those tortures to purge them of their rebellion, even killing them in the most horrifying ways if it suits him. He plans to put you into that hell to test your mettle. Apparently, when you survived the torture chair in the mirrored cell, he realized that you were much stronger than he realized, and wants to break you mentally before he crushes you physically in the Arena. You must be careful and not antagonize him while on the sex floor. There are far worse things than death that can happen in that infernal place.”

“Why are you doing this?” Hannibal asked pointedly. “Why are you really here? Certainly not to warn me about a horribly demented demise he’s already told me about. Tell me, what really brought you here to this pit?”

The Xenian looked down at his cybernetic arm and sighed deeply, obviously troubled by Hannibal’s candor. Hannibal looked into the beast’s eye and wondered as she began to see grief in the great cat. “I don’t rightly know,” the Xenian finally stated. “You seem to be a magnet to many people; maybe to tell you that you aren’t alone here. There are people that believe you are the One spoken of in the ancient prophecies of the Last Caverias...people within these very walls and the Emperor doesn’t even know it.” The Xenian’s expression, which was a bit confused initially, solidified in confidence as he said, “You have allies here. For the moment, we cannot free you. It’s far too risky.”

It suddenly hit Hannibal what the Xenian was saying. She had a remnant in Amacia itself coming to her aid from the very heart of the Emperor’s dark domain. “Hold on,” she whispered. “You were part of Hades’ team. Why should I trust you? If you’re truly a friend, give me some kind of sign. Convince me that you’re on the level and not trying to play a twisted mind game with me at the Emperor’s order. Tell me…what became of my wife?”

“She’s safe, for now,” the Xenian stated. “Like you, she’s a prisoner. She’s chained in the Emperor’s Harem, and fortunately hasn’t been altered like you. As long as she behaves herself and doesn’t anger the Emperor, she’ll be all right. However, because of who and what she is, sneaking her out is a virtual impossibility. The Harem is one of the most heavily guarded portions of the castle. It’s under constant surveillance and fifty soldiers who are the cream of the Emperor’s elite guard protect it. They have orders to kill anyone who comes near the Harem without the Emperor’s seal. Only a handful of the Emperor’s closest advisors carry that seal. The Emperor is very jealous of his women and won’t share them with anyone. He considers them his personal property and playthings to do with as he sees fit.” Hannibal sighed, relieved that Selina was reportedly alive.

“At least the bastard didn’t lie about Selina being in the Harem,” Hannibal said softly. “How many are there, and are they prisoners as well or there by choice?”

“Everyone in the Harem is a prisoner. They’re the cream of the captures from all over the caverns. When we took your feline wife there, there were at least fifty women there, not counting those who are presently being tortured on the sex floor,” the Xenian replied. “Whenever the Emperor’s fancy is moved, he’ll take one or more of them, usually with deadly results. Only the strongest have survived his direct advances. Moreover, at one time or another, each one of them have had a session on the sex floor, so they know the horrors that you’ll face.”

“Where is this Harem?” Hannibal queried.

“In the northwestern tower near the throne room,” the Xenian returned. “Is that sufficient to satisfy you?”

Hannibal nodded and said, “I guess it will have to do. So, the Emperor wants me to fight supposing I survive this sex floor you speak of. If I survive this upcoming torture, what kind of opponents do I have to look forward to in the Arena?”

“From what I’ve heard, you’ll face roughly ten to thirteen of the best gladiators the Emperor has; the most elite of his fighters,” the Xenian replied. “I know not exactly how they plan on having you fight them. It could be one at a time or all at once. There will be at least five humans, four Zarukars, and four Xenians from what I was told; though that could change at the Emperor’s whim. Be warned now: these Zarukars are not the same as those roaming the wastes of Kasa Bek, Myria, Frygia, Elar, and Zaraphath. They’re the new upgraded breed. They’re larger, faster, stronger, and more intelligent than their predecessors. Also, beware of their claws, bites, and saliva. They’re poisonous to your kind in particular.

“The Xenians are also to be watched carefully. I’m a prototype model, the first of my kind, as is the spider and the reptile you saw at your capture. The ones you’ll face in the Arena will be clones of one or all of us. Unlike us and particularly me, they have only one thought and goal in their heads, to kill without question when ordered. Their minds are programmed to do nothing else. Be very careful with them, especially the spiders. They’re fast and resourceful. They’re programmed to adapt to an adversary’s tactics quickly and kill with great efficiency. You’ll need to eliminate them as quickly as possible. Switch tactics often to keep them off balance. If by some miracle, you survive the warriors, the outlander called Lord Hades will fight you as a reward for capturing you when no one else could.”

“Hades,” Hannibal growled. “I should have figured that little shit still wanted a piece of my hide. He’s wanted a piece of me since he was my apprentice.”

The Xenian’s expression rose dramatically as he asked with some amazement, “You know Lord Hades?”

“I’m afraid so,” Hannibal replied. “It was during a black time of my life that I knew him. Once upon a time long ago, I used to be one hell of an assassin and dark wizard. But the Almighty God literally dragged me out of it.” At that point, Hannibal opened up to the Xenian, telling him about her past as a man before being captured, including her conversion to Christianity. The Xenian sat there listening intently taking in everything Hannibal was saying and receiving it. Hannibal noticed it and realized the Xenian was a rare find in the stygian darkness of Amacia.

After Hannibal finished telling her tale, the Xenian looked down at the floor and breathed, “I knew it! You are the One! We’ll get you out of here somehow and get you back into your own body, but for now, just stay alive. We’ll be watching for an opportune time to liberate you from this place.”

“What about Selina? What’ll happen to her? I just can’t leave her here,” Hannibal said intensely.

“Do not fear for her,” the Xenian returned confidently. “She has many friends around her in the Harem. They’ll do all they can to keep her safe. First, we get you out, and then we get her.” Hannibal’s face fell a bit and the Xenian saw it. “She’ll be all right,” he insisted, “You may not know it, but both of you have powerful allies in this place. What you need to do now is rest so you’ll be ready for your next challenge on the sex floor. You’ll need all your strength and faculties to deal with it.” He reached out with his cybernetic arm, pressing one mechanical finger to Hannibal’s clone neck. Hannibal felt a brief painful prick and immediately became lightheaded.

“Oww!” Hannibal cried. “What did you do that for?”

“I administered a tranquilizer and medical booster to allow you to rest. Trust me. You’ll be ready for anything when you wake,” the Xenian replied as Hannibal passed out before she could say anything else. Gently patting Hannibal on the head, the Xenian said softly as the light on his cyborg arm went out, “Sleep well, my friend. May your God be merciful to you and us for the Emperor won’t.” The Xenian paused for a moment, looking at Hannibal through his cyborg eye in the infrared. Hannibal’s heat glowed like a furnace in the infrared. He then rose and slipped out of the cell like a ghost, disappearing into the castle.