The familiar scent of damp earth and verdant growth, a comforting aroma he hadn't realized he missed so much seemed to envelope him as he stepped inside. It was a haven of life, upon seeing him, a figure practically launched itself from the lush foliage in a blur of motion and raw emotion.
"Master!" Elena's voice was choked with tears and relief as she practically lunged at him before embracing him with a ferocity that threatened to knock the wind out of him. Her head buried in his chest. "You're finally back! We've missed you so much! You have no idea how hard it was for us with that thing occupying your body! Even though I tolerated him and he proved somewhat useful it felt so wrong to just be around him!" Her words tumbled out in a rush, a mix of complaint and deep-seated anguish as her body trembled against his. It was clear the ordeal had either taken a toll on her or she was acting to get as much sympathy from him as possible.
Not entirely sure what to do, John just held her, gently patting her back and rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades. "It's alright, Elena. I'm here now, just Let it all out," he murmured softly. Letting her complain and vent the fear and frustration that had clearly built up during his involuntary possession by Lesh. Slowly, as her sobs quieted and her complaints faded into soft sniffles, she began to calm down but even so her grip remained iron-tight.
"Feeling better now?" he asked gently with real concern. He felt her nod against his chest, a soft, almost inaudible 'uhuh' her only response causing him to tightened his embrace momentarily. "Good. I'm sorry I was gone for so long. I promise I will try my best not to let it happen again." He felt her hold him even tighter, as if to anchor him firmly in place this time. The silent plea in her embrace tugged at his heart.
He knew she only wanted to relish in his return, to finally feel safe and whole again now that the real him was back but there were responsibilities, dark and pressing that demanded his immediate attention. It felt cold, almost cruel to shift his focus so soon when she clearly wanted more time to just enjoy having him back but he had to. "Could you… could you bring some of the captives out for me?" he asked, his voice softening with regret. "I know this sounds cold and mean as if im focusing on them over you who needs me right now but I do need to see them, to try and sort things out for myself. I need to understand what to do from here. But I promise I will try to spend some time with you later, just us to help properly catch up." He felt a pang of guilt, acutely aware he was taking advantage of her loyalty and affection, especially as he placed his current duties and actions over her emotional needs.
Elena pulled back slightly, her eyes still glistening but her expression settling into one of quiet understanding as she gave him a small nod before, with a grace that seemed to flow directly from the earth itself, she bent down, her delicate hands sinking into the rich, dark soil before slowly, almost imperceptibly the ground began to tremble. The gentle vibration grew into a distinct tremor before roots, thick and sinewy, began to part the earth, coiling and weaving as they split the soil to form a natural passageway. Along the walls of this organic tunnel, luminous, glowing stones pulsed with a soft, ethereal light, casting an otherworldly glow that chased away the subterranean gloom.
With a shared glance, the trio slowly followed Elena who begrudgingly explained how Lesh had helped design and create both the passage and prison before, with a melancholic smile she told them she had other things to take care of but would know when they were ready to come back out as everything from the entrance to the back of the prison fell under her control much like the greenhouse did. With that, the root-hewn entrance slowly closed behind them, sealing them into the silent depths as Elena sank away into one of the walls without any further words.
It was a surprisingly long walk, proving the captives were kept quite far down, hidden deep beneath the greenhouse. The air grew heavier and cooler, carrying with it the faint, metallic scent of blood and what he imagined despair would smell like. The silence that the trio had fallen into was soon shattered. A low, guttural moaning having reached them, faint at first and barely a whisper in the echoing passage before slowly growing louder as they continued onward, each sound laced with profound and undeniable pain.
As the ground leveled out at the bottom of the winding stairs, they found themselves in a cavernous space where a long line of cells stretched into the gloom. Their bars were not steel, but thick, intertwined roots wrapped by vines slowly descending from the ceiling and anchoring themselves deep into the floor. The doors to these cells were a dense mass of smaller, pliable roots that seemed to be weaved into formidable barriers and their walls were a crude but effective mix of rugged rock and reinforced roots, ensuring they weren't easily breached. A single glowing stone was embedded above each cell, emitting just enough light to illuminate the cramped space but also making it impossible to differentiate between day and night, no doubt a cruel trick on the mind that he felt was rather extreme. Thankfully, it seemed each cell contained a makeshift toilet, shielded by a small wall for a semblance of privacy. There was even a tiny basin sink that was fed by a steady drip of water from a root and a rudimentary bed formed from the ground itself, complete with a makeshift blankets and pillows.
Making their way further in, they passed the trio of the girls, each confined to her own cell. He didn't like how they seemed to have been entirely stripped, having barely enough to cover their modesty, or the broken look they seemed to have, especially in Rebecca who seemed lost, soul and fire missing as she didn't even bother to look at them, instead laying on her bed with her back towards them. Then, they came to him. The bastard who apparently took pleasure in breaking the women for the marauders and helping them to capture others. He was not in a cell like the girls where, instead he was seemingly fused to the wall, suspended by thick, grasping roots. His hands and arms were an unrecognizable, grotesque mass of bone and wooden plant matter as roots having pierced through what little skin remained. His face was a horrifying canvas, having been slashed almost to ribbons that made it hard to even see him as a human. His chest was crudely opened, exposing raw flesh and bone, while his legs were mangled and deformed, twisted at unnatural angles.
Standing before him, a figure moved with an almost ethereal grace, a woman holding a wicked-looking sword. She was slowly and deliberately cutting into him. With each agonizingly precise slice, small, dark wisps seemed to rise from his body, almost like smoke from a dying fire. The woman's smile was chillingly bloodthirsty, her eyes half-lidded as she seemed lost in a trance of focused brutality.
A shiver, cold and sharp, ran down John's spine as he knew that look all too well. It was a mirror of a darkness he himself had yet tried to keep locked away in fear of what he may become, for fear that he would become addicted to it and lose himself to it, it truly unsettled him yet he recognized it as this women's justice and revenge for what he had no doubt done to her along with the others. But even so he couldn't stop himself from speaking, his voice cutting through the air and spilling forth before he even realized it. "So, a real bloodthirsty sadist, into personal torture porn of victims, huh?" His gaze lingered on Saya. "Can't say he doesn't deserve it from what I've heard. But I'm afraid I'm going to need you to pause for a moment. I have some questions I need to ask him and I can't do that if he's too blanked out on the pain answer."
His words, sharp and unexpected, snapped Saya out of her trance. She quickly turned, her eyes widening as she realized she had an audience before a deep blush crept up her neck and across her cheeks and began to sputter, trying to conjure some kind of excuse or justification for the scene they had witnessed.
John held up a hand as a small, wry smile playing on his lips, trying to stop her. "No need to explain. A sadist recognizes a sadist, after all even if you seem to enjoy the more extreme torture aspects of it." He chuckled softly, the sound strangely devoid of malice and instead conveying understanding. "And it's not like I have any room to judge. I'm into my own… particular tastes that are rather diverse so yeah, no worries or judgement and besides, after what this asshole did to you and the others, it's only fair you get your pound of flesh along with vengeance for everyone else his abused and harmed and if it gets you off? Well even better for you then." His casual, almost amused tone only served to deepen her embarrassment, her face now a fiery red as she seemed to want to disappear, Alice holding back laughter as Ash gently hugged her well explaining that this wasn't Lesh but John, the real bodies owner.
Well that was happening he turned away from the girl, turning his full attention to the mangled figure on the wall as his expression hardened. "So, you're the scum I heard about, huh?" His voice dipping low and dangerous, laced with a venomous edge. "Personally, I think you should have been killed then and there, but from what I see has been done to you and the one doing it to you? I feel like I need to agree that it would have been letting you off too lightly. But I'm not a judge, at least not in the traditional sense. I only really came down here to ask you three things and I expect you to answer honestly and based on your answers I promise I'll consider either letting this continue, ending your pain or letting you go after being patched up to try and survive out there." He took a step closer with each word, the prisoner flinching away, emitting a pained groan that was more animalistic than human as each movement caused blood to drop and fly around.
"Did you do what you did by your own choice?" He began with a piercing gaze. "Did you enjoy hurting and breaking these girls and taking advantage of them? Final question: Is there any way to fix this Rebecca girl and the other two? To undo what you did to all of them?"
The prisoner's head lolled against the roots, seemingly struggling to lift it to meet his gaze. His voice was hoarse and thick with pain as he rasped, "Are you… serious?"
A chilling, grotesque smile stretched across his disfigured face. "I did it myself, every single time for so many benefits," he wheezed, a flicker of something dark and triumphant in his eyes as if taking pride in what he had done. "And yes, I enjoyed it every single time. I got to do whatever I wanted with whatever women I wanted well getting all kinds of benefits from it, seeing what I could get from it, I even went out of my way to refine how I do it and improve my various drugs till I honed my craft constantly till I found the better ways to break and drug the girls as I twisted them to my whim. And the twins? ah, the twins were my biggest success. Subservient only to me unless I give them the trigger word which would then trigger the conditioning to make them subservient to whatever stern man talks to them. That dumb bitch Becca was just as fun, unfortunately the conditioning didn't take as well, becoming subservient to any guy who raises their voice and speaks sternly to her but if you let me go, I can try and teach yo—"
He didn't get to say anything further, so self-absorbed in gloating he hadn't noticed the subtle tightening of John's jaw or the slow clenching of his fist. An unholy rage burnt cold inside of him, each sickening and self-congratulatory word making the rage grow more till he felt something crack inside him as it erupted. With a guttural roar his fist shot out, a solid punch connecting with the prisoner's face. The sickening crack of bone echoed in the cavern as his head almost twisting and breaking from the sheer force of the strike.
What followed was a brutal explosion of violence as more strikes landed, blows to his stomach, each one delivered with calculated force designed to inflict maximum pain without being deadly or enough to lead to his death. More against his face, causing more blood to shower across his disfigured features before John began to target his joints, each blow, grab and twist resulting in sickening cracking noises that made Saya both flinch and watch with utter fascination. John seemed like a whirlwind of controlled fury, his movements precise yet devastating as he seemed to be trying to break Vick well taking extreme care not to kill him.
He eventually stepped back, breathing heavily, his chest heaving but his face a mask of grim satisfaction. He turned to Saya, his voice surprisingly calm despite the recent outburst. "Feel free to keep doing as you want to him whenever you want. But maybe give him a week or two break from time to time so he can get some kind of medical attention and healing before you start the next round of punishment. We don't want him to start getting used it, to start enjoying the pain or growing numb to it or worse, finding some way to block it out after all. It would also be a type of refresher for you as well; a tolerance break you could say to keep feeling the euphoria and… other things from it." He said well offering a small, knowing smirk that elicited an even deeper blush from Saya, who he noticed was unconsciously rubbing her legs together, something he knew was a result of the fresh devastation he had wrought upon the bastard.
"Wait! You promised! You said you would let me go!" The prisoner's voice, a broken, pain-filled croak, caused John to stop in his tracks on his way out of the cell. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes cold and unwavering.
"I promised I would consider either killing you, letting you go or to have you keep suffering." John corrected, his voice devoid of emotion. "And I gave it the consideration it needed; the thing is as you began speaking and making your true opinion clear, I realized something. You are worse than some of the monsters that exist in this world. You revel in breaking people, in destroying their spirits in a way that's far more insidious than simple physical violence." He paused, his gaze burning into the prisoner. "Now, I don't doubt there are plenty of others like you or that there's people who are far worse out there. But you're the one who directly had an effect on those who have fallen under my protection. You're the one who's here! Also, I don't think I'll be coming back to your cell once I leave." He added well turning away, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper, almost to himself. "If I do I'm worried I would probably kill you in the most painful ways possible, causing me to strain my hands with dirty blood, something I'd like to avoid."