This is from a scene with a friend that has happened recently. They don’t want to be named but still I would like to publicly thank them for giving me the chance to showcase this. This story describes but a part of the event that was role-played and its meant to give a little rather than the whole story.
The interior of the high moving vessel was cracking with violent sounds as if it was to break. Ioannis had no idea what was happening, covered after all by the dark hood around his head.
“…We are going to be so rich, make so much ISK, we are going to be rich, make so much ISK…” kept saying one of the three voices around him with intensity as if it was chanting a religious verse. He knew it was three men because of the voices. One of the voices was deep and well collected;he figured the man was the leader of this crew. The second was orderly. And the third, the one chanting, crazy and volatile. A bump at the movement of the ship violently followed by the metallic clinging of tools against the floor.
Ioannis couldn’t see anything due to the hood. In fact he couldn’t move as was strapped at the metallic bed. His hands were held pinned by metallic handles as were his feet. He could feel a burn at his ribs. He wondered whether he was shot. But the truth wasn’t far from it, he was injured by a hammer damaging his rib cage, the crippling blow that led to his capture.
A hand started fiddling with his arm and after a few seconds the noise of a beeping tone begun to be overheard. “His heart rate is spiked…” said the leader of the three. A few moments later Ioannis felt a sting at the veins of his arms. After a few seconds another one…a total of four. “We are going to be rich, make so much ISK…” the crazed voice kept on saying nonstop followed by a thrusting of metallic tools on top of a table.
Ioannis began sweating, the breathing becoming heavier with each passing moment. He knew that Proteus was activated. He knew that help was coming. Or was it?
Another bump at the ever speeding vessel, were they under attack? Ioannis was burning up in fever. He tried to concentrate. But he couldn’t. His lips moving in a tremor, the colliding noise of his teeth against each other filling his head as the tension of the beeping machine. “Breathe” he thought. “Recollect yourself…” and indeed he slowly begun to feel as if he could breathe much easier. More calmly. Or at least he thought he did. In reality he was getting worse.
“…What is he saying!?” said the second voice. The man placed his ear to Ioannis’ lips over the hood.
" It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate;I am the captain of my soul…." Ioannis was whispering in an agonizing tone.
The thug overheard as Ioannis was speaking barely to himself. He looked at the others. “He is ready… Jericho, do it”
Ioannis was as if melting, he wouldn’t know he was speaking at all. All he could feel was the burn at his rib cage intensifying, his mind drifting away without realizing, his hearing focused on the sound of the interior as if the vessel was about to explode.
Jericho removed the hood and smiled viciously at Ioannis holding a pair of metallic spiky and pointy torture devices. “We are going to be rich, make so much ISK…” with a sinister dark laughter. In a swift stroke Jericho plunged the torture devices at the eyes of Ioannis.
The quotes from Sepphiros is part of a poem from William Ernest Henley called “Invictus”