Name: Former captain Lardum
For weeks the head of research and development had holed himself in his laboratory. His subordinates quivered in fear, none of which had the audacity to approach his private chambers. Those who had emerged with their salivary glands choking them as they emerged from his catacombs. Although he did not cared not for his fellow officers, is wife meant everything to him.
Unknown to him, she crept toward his private chamber ever so carefully. The air was frigid, her very skin seemed to burn with each step. At times she felt compelled to turn back, almost too weak to stand on her own, she had to cling to the frigid rail lining the chamber's path. Yet the corpses of their fellow soldiers stirred the fire in her heart. They lied there in such a disrespectful manner, frozen in time; their agony preserved by the frigid temperature in her husband's lair. Perhaps what stirred her conviction the most was his screams of torment, the likes of which resounded throughout the catacombs hundred fold.
It would hours before she reached the heart of his twisted labyrinth. A dimly lit chamber revealed victor standing before an enormous caldron. The fires underneath blazed furiously as he mixed the ingredients almost without pause.Every so often he would pour extra ingredients into the batch, bits of who knows what flowed through his vials. Their smells varied from what seemed to be excrement, all the way to the entrails of a mighty menos grande. He kept saying his same line, " Mix mix swirl", but his once charming voice was laden with a hint of madness. She called out to him,but her pleas were met with deaf ears.
Her breathing was labored and her vision was blurry. As her last resort she used the one line which would surely stir him, " Shake, not mix". It had been a joke he found hilarious in his youth, although she didn't understand the reference; his emphatic enthusiasm was contagious.
As she suspected, he responded while drinking the same concoction he was working so vigorously on. He turned to his wife, his pupil narrowed on her before pouncing on her...
Days later he woke in a daze. Struggling to get to his feet, he scanned his surroundings for Elizabeth. The last thing he remembered was her muttering "shake, not mix", before he lost consciousness. Panic beset him as he ran throughout his chamber calling to her.
It was not long before he found her lifeless body strewn on the ground. Her chest was caved in, her ribcage shattered instantly. Grief and rage overtook him, for he had specifically told her to stay away. Although he knew it was a selfish request, one he knew she would never heed.What rattled him the most was her expression, one of peace. Despite him taking her life, she was still relieved he was alive in her final moments.
He lifted her lifeless body and placed her upon his work station. Muttering to himself he said, " You will live on within me my love". From there he toiled perpetually. His exploits cost Elizabeth's life, so he would not stop until he was done.
Following the death of his loved one:
He emerged from his catacombs to find his world gone. His eyes glossed over with a shade of white. His skin bandaged up, scarred 1000 times. His body barely human, it was hard to say if he was more machine than man.Hydraulics churned with each step. Tubes riddled his body, they stuck out as if they were vascular veins.
His home in ruin, he solemnly observed was what left. Signs of struggle were everywhere, for you see; the once fertile soul society was now scarred. The once deep blue sky was in a state perpetual darkness. At the summit of the sokieyo hill, he found the shattered moment of yori hayato.
Close enough, but what can I say. I don't draw
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