A Forced Mark

[ScarletCinnabar]

Daud's death marked the end of The Whalers, a gang formed under the ideals of eliminating the city's undesirables while turning a profit from it. His death splintered the gang, and the powers of the Outsider faded from the people under him once Corvo had taken care of him, and most attempts at reforming the gang came to a failure.


But like plagued rats, they linger, they fester and breed, and soon they form an entire colony off the corpses of the ones before them.


Though unlike most of the reforming attempts in the name of what the gang used to stand for, none worked better than to regain the power they once had, the power of The Outsider and his mark. So came the group known as The Marked, assassins who sought not to purge the city of undesirables but instead to regain the power they once knew by any means necessary.

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Dunwall, The Flooded District, three years after Daud's death.​

Footsteps filled the silence of an old warehouse in the lower parts of the district, another set following in an almost rushed manner. "Where are we with the project?" A gruff voice rang out as the two reached a door, its rusted hinges creaking as they entered.


"W-well, we're almost there, Sir Vidal, just a little behind on the resources needed to complete it, but I heard some of the Marked should be coming back soon with the needed items." The other footsteps belonged to a woman, one with an almost hesitant and fearful voice as she spoke to the masked man.


Vidal let out a heavy sigh as he stood near a window overlooking the rest of the warehouse, his back turned to her. "Fiore…you know how long this…project has been on hold. I had thought you were given enough whalebone for the procedure, or did you simply waste that?"


The sound of pages flipping came as Fiore scoured her clipboard, a nervous smile pulled on her lips. "I really thought we did, but w-we were a bit off to create the final rune." When she got to the right page, she handed the clipboard off to the man, the page titled "Shipment detail." "I sent out two of the Masked to secure the shipment; it should have plenty of whalebone for the rest of the ritual and then some."


Vidal turned from the window and took the clipboard from Fiore, the following silence as he read nearly deafening. Before he could reply, though, a knock on the opened door drew both their attention; one of the Masked was standing there clad in a bloodstained assassin's uniform as well as donning an industrial gas mask.


"Sir, we've retrieved the shipment as instructed by Fiore. It's waiting down in storage." The assassin looked between the two, practically sensing the tension lingering between the two. "The Masked will be awaiting your orders down at the floor; take your time." They gave a small nod before turning and leaving, their footsteps fading until gone.


With the news, Vidal set down the clipboard on a nearby desk before heading for the door himself. "Fiore, see to it that the experiment is prepared for the finishing ritual. We'll be handling the whalebone; don't keep me waiting." With that he left the room, the nerve-wracking presence that was him finally gone and letting the room feel a bit less tense.


Fiore let out a relieved sigh as she picked the clipboard back up, setting all the pages back in their right order before leaving the room as well, her boots clanging against the grated metal platforming of the warehouse. "I swear…working with him is going to age me thirty more years." She raised a hand to a graying streak of her hair, her fingers threading through the strands as she walked. "I'll be nothing but grey hairs by the end of this."


She continued through the warehouse, passing by other members of the Masked, some just relaxing and some even sparring in their downtime. But soon she reached a thick metal door, the rust and decay on it less than what the whole building itself had on it and no doubt somewhat new. She took a key out from a pocket on her chest and stuck it in the keyhole, turning it with a solid thud of the heavy internal lock before beginning to push the door open, having to put a shoulder into it just to move it a few inches.


Once the door was open fully, the scent of decay and filth came washing over Fiore, making her nose scrunch up as she raised a hand to cover her mouth and nose. Inside was a sort of makeshift ritual room, with runes carved into the walls, candles lit and waiting, and even an oil painting of the Outsider himself. And of course the most important part of this whole ritual, the sacrifice, all nice and chained in the center.


The so-called sacrifice chained to the center of the room was a woman, no older than her late twenties and with a fairly simple past according to her notes. Her hair was a muted brown color, matted and dirty from weeks of being here, and arcane markings stretched up her body and underneath where clothes covered, the Masked no doubt being thorough with the prep for the ritual.


As Fiore stepped closer, the woman shrank back as much as the chains would let her, clear fear flashing through her eyes as she looked up at the other woman.


"N-no, no, no, please, no more." Her voice trembled as she tried to pull more, yet the steel of the chains proved stronger than her own desire for escape. "Please, I—I won't say a word, I promise! I'll even pay you. M-my shop has a hidden safe. I-I have the code, mem."


A sharp slap from a backhand silenced the other woman as Fiore stood there with a raised hand, a look of indifference as she turned back to the table within the room and set down her clipboard. "You've been here for…three weeks according to my notes. Each day I've been here personally, you've pleaded for mercy, and yet you gain nothing. Is your hope truly that strong, or are you just too ignorant to fully understand your situation here?"


Her fingers slipped under her glasses to rub her eyes, and when they returned to the desk, she grabbed a knife from the table. "You will not be able to barter, or plead, or provide me with anything to escape this situation you've been pushed into. And it's almost…pitying. After all, you really were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."


Fiore then turned and walked back towards the woman, watching as they tried to pull against the chains in a futile effort to keep any sense of distance between them. But with a simple press of her boot on the chains, they tightened, forcing them to stay put.


"Don't worry. I assure you that once this is all over, you'll feel so much better. After all…you'll be one of few to receive his blessings." She rounded the woman and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stay put before putting the blade before her bare back. "Now bear with me; after all, I'm making this mark from memory, and it will hurt."


Then with a press of the blade against her skin, the first cut was made, and only more were to come. From outside the room the assassins nearby could hear the continuous screams of the chained woman, all as flesh was carved away before it hit the floor like it was nothing but trash. Then, silence. As the screams finally subsided, Vidal and a couple of the other Masked walked into the room with Fiore and the woman inside, Fiore with an almost manic smile on her face, not like her earlier nervousness.


"Perfect, you caught me right when I was finishing up." She said as she made a few more cuts along the woman's back, only pained whimpers and a trembling body were a response to the pain. "Oh, don't worry about her; she'll be fine for what we need her for. Just do your part and I'll do mine." Fiore then finished up and walked back to the table, the knife dripping with blood as she tossed it back onto the table without much care.


With her part done, the assassins moved in with the raw whalebone and a couple man-made runes, setting them up along the designated spaces of the carved-out spaces on the floor. Vidal walked behind the chained woman and examined Fiore's handiwork, finding the woman's back carved into a crude marking of the Outsider's mark that once had been on Daud's own hand.


"Did you have to make such a show of it? Daud only had the marking on his hand; why have you chosen her back for this?" His voice was tinged with confusion as he examined the still freshly bleeding mark, not even caring for the woman it had been carved onto.


"Well, there's not really a rulebook for this kind of stuff. I mean, nobody said the marking had to be on the hand." Fiore began to wipe off her hands with a nearby rag, her earlier expression fading a bit into something more calm or neutral. "And who knows, maybe The Outsider is one for new things; I don't think there's been a single reported sighting of a mark along someone's back."


As the assassins placed the final rune against the floor in the marked spot, Vidal watched as the carved markings in both the runes and floor began to trickle out a wispy void-like energy, the very air of it feeling taboo itself. But it only proved to interest Vidal further.


"Begin the ritual; I will be awaiting the results once it's completed." Vidal looked at the scene a moment longer in morbid fascination, all before turning and leaving the room, Fiore following close behind and leaving the two assassins to carry out the ritual themselves.


One of the two assassins began to carry out the ritual, taking a nearby book from the table before opening it and clearing their voice. "Outsider, hear our call and mark this woman so that we may bask in your everlasting power, so that we may feel the effects of your void-born graces with us once more." As the assassins spoke, the void energy from the runes began to crawl up closer to the woman, following the other many carved marks across her skin.


The woman felt a searing pain as the energy trailed higher, as if each rune now glowing was a brand that burned into her flesh. When she tried to helplessly pull away, the other assassin pulled at the chains, crushing any vision of escape she might have had as the chains tightened once more.


"Bestow this power upon one, so that we the many may benefit from its gift. I call to you, Outsider!" With the final incantation now voiced, the void energy finally reached the mark carved along the woman's back, trailing along the skin that was once there before completely filling the empty space left by the blade, the pain so excruciating that it had finally caused the woman to faint, her body going slack in the chains as the pain and lingering chants began to fade away into the darkness that soon filled her vision.


Slowly the woman's eyes began to peel open, her body feeling sore and exhausted as she looked around the room, now empty with no sight of the assassins that once stood there. The chains that once pulled around her skin so tight were now gone, leaving her free to move as much as her body would let her.


Summoning her strength, she rose up on unsteady legs, nearly falling under her as she used the table and wall to support her body as she walked to the door. When she reached it, the door opened with a surprising amount of ease, nothing like what she had seen with Fior's effort to do so earlier.


But as the door opened, her eyes widened at the sight before her, the warehouse where she was once held now broken and fragmented in a sea of floating chunks of earth and buildings, something that must be from a dream or afterlife.


"H-hello? Is anyone there?" The woman called out with a mix of hesitance and lingering weakness, stepping out from the doorway to hopefully find someone to assist her.


As she walked, more and more of the distant void became clear, the sight of different structures and landscapes almost proving as a comfort to see. But as her feet led her to the edge of where the warehouse began to fade off into the abyss, a hand stopped her, pressing lightly into her chest as her gaze focused on the figure now formed before her.


"Mind your step; one wrong move and you might just find yourself falling forever." An ethereal voice came from the now-formed man, his inky black eyes looking to her as his expression held stoic and lightly pushed her back to more solid ground. "Alina Castello, a woman with no reason to be here."


Alina stumbled back until her legs finally gave out and caused her to fall on her rear, now looking up at the man with confusion and fear. "H-how did you know my name? Where am I? A-am I dead?" Each question was spoken with a trembling voice, unable to keep still as her emotions still racked through her body.


"Well, no actually, you linger between both life and death currently. But lucky for you, your death will be a choice." The man slowly stepped to Alina, settling a few feet from her before standing with his hands held behind him. "I am The Outsider, the one whom the so-called 'Masked' had called upon to speak with you, or more so turn you into one of many trials to gain power."


As he stepped closer, Alina pulled back a little, her hands close to her chest as if to make herself as small as possible. "So are you…going to hurt me?" She hesitated, fearing the potential answer he would give her.


But The Outsider simply shook his head and held out a hand, his palm up as an invitation for her to take it. "I don't wish to cause pain nor give you alleviation from it. Though an interesting sight would be to see what you do to those who caused your pain."


With the outstretched hand, Alina took a moment to examine the Outsider's expression, but as she looked for any hint of mockery or deceit, she only found indifference, no real want for her to take or leave his hand. So she too reached out, placing her hand in his before the old warehouse faded in an instant, now replaced with a lounge-sort of area still suspended in the open void, and with her now sitting in a plush chair with the Outsider across from her, his hands folded and legs crossed, like a man with all the time in the world.