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In the northern seas, there stands a single light house shining brightly like a radiant star, and at first, it seemed to be quite odd that a building is in the middle of freezing waters surrounded by dense fog, however — it is a mirage, a facade of those unaware of its significance. Beneath the light house and its small island lies a gigantic underwater city, made entirely by man, it is a bustling; crowded, dystopian nightmare.
Winding corridors, a glorified utopia, a city enclosed by an enormous dome to protect it from being submerged by the crushing depths of the ocean. The architecture, it is densely populated, it is grandiose and prosperous, it is man's Magnum opus. Or, what it seemed to be. Behind saturated commercials and fabricated truths, its residents describe the opposite; it is malevolent; draconian laws that hold these people like they're prisoners; and even prejudice amongst other races— beast man, elf, dwarf — all are banned from entering what is essentially, heaven. Those who do enter face worse fates than death.
In the high-class levels of this underwater city are those shielded from the ugliness, harshness parts of this place. Drowning in their enriching euphoria, entertainment, no matter how immortal it is. Everyone has a part to play, and soon, they'll eventually fall from grace.
Now, at the Ambrosia Theater, there stands a jester, with its handmade props and embroidery so uncannily realistic — it almost seemed like he was a beastman himself, an orca; performing in front of a live audience, the host raised the curtains.
“The dazzling, dare devil of this grand city—”, the host waits for a beat, “The jester of martyrdom himself — REIN LAURIER!”
And there stands the jester in all his glory.
The jester is not just famous for his stunts and tricks, the audience ogles over his looks, his slim body, they would cling to him desperately. The audience, masks and eerie nature, cared not for his talent, but for his value. As most performers are in this city— they all have less autonomy than those superior.
Yet none would dare to claim ownership for themselves. The jester already could not be owned, because it would be treason for them. The one who “owned” him is the man who created this underwater city, helped built it, and rule over it with an iron fist. A mere human, it was impressive that such a low lifespan race would make something so pretentious. Everyone wishes they caught the interest of him.
In his eyes, those who try to defy him are just jetsam and flotsam; worthless; insignificant beings. The jester, Rein, would be for naught if not for such high value, because he is the direct son of this man. The city will remain of permanence, yet for the people— it is their rubicon, none could ever escape.
After the performance, Rein had left through the backstage to be picked up by a carriage, that would eventually lead to the opulence that is the palace of this entire underwater city. Towering over him like a shadow. Despite how long he had “known” his father, it still makes him feel a sense of dread. Willingly entering the jaws of a predator that would swallow him up whole.
The carriage stopped in front of the grand gate, he had stepped out, the gate opened by itself. The palace is almost gothic, a stark contrast to the booming city. A large garden is at front, foliage and statues scattered all over— the statues all seemed like it was glaring down at him; he shook his head and got to the front door, unlocking it.
It is spacious, grandiose; yet— there was always something offputting, it is too perfect. Yes, there are servants here, it is not a vacant place. Rein looked around, with a glimmer of hope that father may not be here, the portraits placed on the walls— depicting the jester when he was younger, and of his father.
He checked his study, his chambers, the dining hall, he was not in any of the floors. The only place he has not checked was— the basement. Rein took a deep breath, hoping to the gods up above that he is not home. He took the elevator down into the basement.
The elevator reached the bottom with a noticeable click, it is dark, narrow, claustrophobic. And, he could hear the faint sounds of flesh being torn apart, bones being snapped up ahead. He took slow steps forward.
“Rein, my dear, whatever got you so frightened?” He chided playfully, looming over Rein, suffocating. “There is nothing to be afraid of, come here.” He beckons, it felt like he was stepping painfully on thorns, coming closer. Tremble. Tremble.
The father’s hand was calloused, yet warm, it brushes against Rein’s head like a blade wrapped in silk. The feeling is complicated, he felt comfort, yet it still seemed so tense. Father’s smile never quite reached his eyes, it is empty. Devoid of love or compassion, a front. Yet, Rein could not move, thorny vines ensnared his limbs, it hurts to move.
The silence is smothering. The walls warped in pandemonium. The corpse lays there, bloodied and organs scattered. He writhed, yet did not move away. He just wants to get rid of him, end his suffering— end everyone’s suffering, but he still loves him; he never wants to wish harm upon him, Rein is loyal, he can never backstab him— Father’s other hand reached Rein’s shoulder, “Rein, are you starving? You must be so tired from performing all day without any breaks.”
“—and don’t think about trying anything, my dear. You will make me feel so upset. You would not want Father to be irate, hm?” Sephtis added. Whispering into the jester’s ear. “Just go upstairs like a good little orca.”
That struck fear into the orca. Like being shot by a thousand bullets. And in the blink of an eye, he was already upstairs. He always obeyed, he never questioned his father. Because he never wants to disappoint him. He wants his father’s attention, approval, love. Without him, how would he feel so complete? Maybe, he should be happy that his father is finally acknowledging him!
Yet, the thoughts, the voices, it lingers— ringing into Rein’s ears, it threatens to consume him. To get rid of Father. To end him. How horrid, why must he think all these? He loves his father, he would never betray him. It is all unwanted thoughts; clouding his mind.
The jester goes to his chambers, attempting to ease himself by indulging his own interests and hobbies. Despite performing in front of an audience that only cares for his looks, his value— he genuinely loves being in the spotlight, to be recognized something of importance, to act the way he is, receiving laughter and mockery.
And then one single object, a scarf, it hasn’t been worn in so long, yet— the memory still holds its place in a sense of hostility. Rein remembers all the lies and harm from his so called father, how could he forget? His brain now showing this hidden memory?
The house fire, the jester’s parents, actual parents— burned alive, and he could not do anything. How can he? How can a child run into the house and save them? He stood still, frozen like a deer. It made him afraid, the burns bite into his skin, leaving it a mark. He could not see himself, could not see such monstrosity; unwanted; ugly; disgusting and filthy.
That is when Sephtis came into view, offering Rein shelter, clothes, a life worth living for— yet all of that flickers away when he was sedated by the man he would call “father.” His body, injected by unknown fluids and substances, contorting his body into something inhuman, his organs detached and rearranged, all while being conscious of it all.
He became what is known as an engineered beast-man, a being that was not born as beast nor predator, but was forced into that role. That was the one thing he despised about Father, he may fabricate that experiment as something revolutionary; the cost of that were lives, bystanders; adults and children.
Sephtis expected Rein to stay obedient, committed to be always loyal to his father. To act from order as if it’s normal. For him, it never was, why must he continue to suffer in such circumstances while this monstrous being act all benevolent in front of a blind crowd that knew who he was in its exterior form? And never knew what he truly was behind doors?
The orca breaks, he will not allow this thing to continue living amongst the people, the city— as a whole. If he had to do it by his own hands, he shall. The moment father is vulnerable, he will strike.
There was an event held in the main square of the city. Celebrating the birth of the underwater civilization made by man, it was an incredible feat, of course— yet undeniably unsurprising that it involved slaves. Sephtis was at the balcony, giving some two-faced speech to the spurring crowd of masks and chatter. Rein was at the left side, inside the room. Observing silently, as voices grew louder and louder in his head.
‘Get rid of him.’
‘Kill him.’
‘Tear his flesh apart.’
He aches, resisting the urge to kill him in some kind of public execution, no— too risky. Only when father is alone. Then everyone will be set free from the injustice; the rigged laws; and everything that made this city hell.
Father closed the doors of the balcony, the city never receives any sunlight and was always a gloomy blue, coupled by the blinding lights of the city itself. He was reorganizing items and such on his desk, his back turned. This is the moment, Rein sharpened his claws, slowly creeping up towards the monster.
“Rein.”
The sudden voice from his father made the jester froze, a slight tremble, was he caught? Sephtis turned his heel, the shadow looming over his face, leaving only his eyes; devoid of any warmth; and mouth— a smile, a crooked smile.
“Rein, my dear. You seem quite agitated.” He starts to walk towards the jester, making him shrink under his piercing gaze that could stop even the fiercest person. Backing away, father immediately seizes his wrist to get him to stop moving. “Why do you seem so afraid of me? I have never harmed a single hair, you are extremely valuable to me—“
“–you experimented on me—“
“It was revolutionary, you were the first and only successful experiment— after that, I have never laid a finger on you, I have cared for you, I kept you under my wing, I fed you, I clothed you— I made you become something that the audience will observe you like a trophy on display.” Sephtis interrupted the jester, making him tremble. He leaned in closer to Rein’s ear, gripping his wrist tightly.
“Isn’t that what you wanted? To be seen as significant? To the people of this city? Are you really taking me for granted?” He dragged the orca closer. “Didn’t you want to feel loved? So wanted? Look at me, I’m giving you all the love right now. Are you really rejecting it?” The room is suffocating. His head is spinning, he wants to leave, he wants to run away, he is afraid. He can’t move, he can’t move— clenching his fists.
‘Kill him.’
‘Get rid of everyone’s suffering.’
‘Tear him apart.’
“Rein, answer me.” Father grips the jester’s wrists, deafening silence. “Answer me.”
And, suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Rein lashed out— clawing at his father’s chest; lunging at him; pinning him down on the patterned floor— the father’s eyes, wide open in horror, the shadows covering his face. His flesh; his bones; maimed by the experiment. Each vicious bite and slash stained the floor with crimson red blood, like a predator that was poked with a stick; more and more; until the body is unresponsive.
The orca went back to his senses, seeing the bloodied mess of his father; he almost threw up; he killed a man. He murdered someone, no, no, no— it was justified, he caused so much suffering. It was better if he was dead. Rein immediately scrambled away from the corpse, trembling, the walls distort around him; voices still in his head. He starts to laugh, it was a broken laugh, tears running down his cheek, he was finally free— from this torment— he turned away from the corpse.
Now the only way to get rid of his body is to make up some kind of story that had the man murdered, without including himself in the picture— yes, that was it. “Oh, it was so beautiful. No more pulled by the strings, isn’t it so wonderful, father?” Talking to himself, it made him look insane, smiling— he turned his head to look at his mangled father— his body froze, eyes widened.
Father’s body has vanished.
His body was just here— the blood stains is still there on the floor— how did it move? He must be imagining things, he killed the man.
“Rein.”
The jester flinches, his body still, a bloodied hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly.
“Oh, poor little orca. Why are you so afraid of your own father?” The voice was distorted, inhuman, something almost demonic. He hesitantly turned his head to look behind him.
A pair of eyes, his entire face and body in pitch black, horns— and multiple limbs, it distorts and changes every blink. A hand caressed the jester’s cheek.
“How unfortunate, that you thought you escaped from my grasp, dear one.” Multiple limbs hugged Rein; almost crushing him; one hand tilts his head, forcing him to stare at something so eldritch.
“As long as you live, I’ll be by your side forever. Didn’t you wanted that? Loved by someone? Loved by anyone? That you’ll go to such lengths to accept illicit requests from your audience? Just to be the center of attention,” a crooked smile appeared. Dragging the jester closer to his chest, feeling each trembling and fidgety movements. “You’re shaking, like a rabbit trapped from a bear trap. Rein, my dear, you should never be so terrified of me.”
“I’m the only one who could give you love. And you’ll always obey like you do so?” The jester couldn’t move, look away, or lash out anymore. He is trapped, trapped under these limbs, this demon’s gaze. He wants to leave, to shout out, to do anything. He still has a mouth, he can scream for help— yet… he did not do any of those things. Instead, he nodded. He complied, like an obedient dog. The smile from the father’s face widened, twisted— almost uncannily, like a skinwalker.
The walls distort once more, it’s starting to blur; objects warped; the limbs ensnared at his body; the hand that was caressing his cheek almost felt so cold.
“Good boy, you’ll never leave your father’s side, right?”
He nodded.
“You will never betray me again, hm?”
He nodded. His mind is chaotic, warring against each other. Yet, settled with something much worse. Obedience. Submit.
“I will love you more than the audience that thinks of you of just value. I will cherish you until the very last breath of your feeble existence.” The limbs gripped onto the jester tightly, like thorny vines. “And you’ll allow it, would you?”
A final nod. The dark submerged his eyes in naught. A flower withers. Forever trapped in Father’s love.