#uncontious

“You’d get paid too. Starting with what I owe you for the first reading plus a little for the inconvenience.”

Indigo thought he heard a snicker from outside. It might've been his imagination, but either way this is not where he wanted to be. The more attention from a noble house, and that he still didn’t know which one which it was was making him nervous, the more likely he was to be killed for some minor thing. Just because he was more likely to do that minor thing in front of someone who gave a crap. He would attempt to politely back out. Probably useless, worth a shot.

“I really do hate to decline your offer,” Her face was already dropping into a glare. “But I have other clients and employers that I’m busy with right now. I’d still be happy to do readings for you, any location. Just not a permanent location.” Indigo was tempted to put something like ‘you feel me?’ at the end but ruled that it wasn’t appropriate for the setting. More urgently, she was now openly scowling at him. He rolled off the bed and bolted not for the exit, which was definitely guarded, but one of the side rooms. He ended up with the closet. He heard her yelling for the guard but tried to tune her out, if he knew what house this was there was a chance he could blackmail her. He was looking at the outside of the compound, heart racing as he looked for a symbol. He thought he saw one, carved into a pillar, and moved closer. He instantly regretted that decision. The symbol was obviously a ward of some kind. His mind was on fire, he probably screamed but couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel, outside the fire behind his eyes.

His head was pounding as he woke up, now chained to a table in a different room. He couldn’t keep his groan down, and he heard footsteps walking over. The priestess leaned over him, once again smiling.

“Welcome back.”

Indigo’s opinion that this lady Needed To Stop was getting stronger by the second. She was still talking, too loudly. His head hurt. Less than before, sure, but the fire had retreated to the base of his skull and was pulsing outwards with his heartbeat. Which made it hard to focus on exactly how he’d be tortured first. It didn’t sound like she’d be doing it though, which was weird. Something about an instructor. Another figure leaned over him, unproceeded by footsteps. It was wearing a plague mask from the surface and a hooded robe which rendered all its features completely covered. Indigo didn’t like it. The feeling of wrong settled over him and he futility tried to move away. A rasping metallic sounding laugh emanated from the mask chilling him further and increasing the feeling that he had to get away he had to. 

“Hey, back off. You birdface. I bet you’re allergic to feathers.” Was this really the best he could do under pressure today?

“This is the Instructor. I see you’re almost friends already.”

The Instructor reached down and turned his face back toward it with clawed hands. He flinched, hard, cutting himself on the claws and prompting another laugh. The priestess stepped back from the table and left with a “You know what to do.”

Indigo shivered on the table as the Instructor stepped back. It returned too soon holding a small object that resembled a curled up spider. The Instructor pressed the back of it, uncurling the legs and making Indigo wish that he could melt into the table even more. Not that he knew what this thing was, the Instructor was just scary. The Instructor took his face again and delicately placed the spidery thing over it with its other hand.

“Now, she needs me to avoid brain damage, but I don’t see why I should do that if I can just repair you afterwards.” Its voice was as raspy and metallic as its laugh, and Indigo whimpered, closing his eyes but unable to escape the cold dread that the thing radiated.

“Don’t even think about it birdface. I’m already brain damaged you can’t do anything to me.” Indigo managed to choke the words out. It was ineffective.

“I don’t think so.”

The Instructor pressed the back of the thing once again, digging the legs into Indigo’s face. It began chanting, and Indigo’s headache started to spread back out, pulsing further with each line of the chant. It was soon consuming everything again, eating at his mental walls. He tried to fight. Turning his attention inwards, he tried to put some walls back up, any sort of defence would work but he couldn’t. He panicked when he felt the Instructor reaching in. He went against it directly, mentally clawing, hitting, anything that might make the chilling presence go away but nothing was working and he was thrown off and pinned, trapped, while the Instructor was going through everything, clawing through everything until it found… something. Something that definitely wasn’t supposed to be touched by an outsider. Indigo screamed, something snapped and they were both out. The spider thing was off his face, leaving bloody indents where it had been. The Instructor stood silently for a long moment, then turned and stalked over to a chest beneath a row of cabinets.

“You are strong. It’s a wonder someone hadn’t picked you up already.” The Instructor turned around, now holding a serrated knife. “I see we’ll have to start with something physical. Wear you out.”