Chapter 2: The passionate (k)night

The darkness of night could easily eat away at a man’s heart.

In this world, such a saying was true, for in the darkness, lurked dangers untold. Amongst them walked a man whose face was covered in cloth.

This feature attracted a lot of attention, which is why he could only move around at night, lest the eyes of the curious fall upon him. It would be a simple thing, to rid himself of their curiosity, for nothing was stopping him from removing the bandages after all. However avoiding others was far easier than bearing to look at his face, a face that wasn’t his but one that god had given him.
Between the dim moonlight and the garb he wore over his head, the fact that his face was covered in bandages mattered little. Most of his body was covered by his cloak which prevented others from seeing his shirt which was covered in fresh blood. The smell was also obstructed with his own foul stench.

The blood had belonged to an unfortunate thug, one who had tried to rob him, thinking that he was an easy mark. Little did the thug know, that it had all been a ploy. For the cloaked and mysterious individual needed coin, and the thug was going to provide him with it.

A prostitute was the reason that he sought coin. Neither the appearance, the age nor the health were of importance to him. His only prerequisite being, that the prostitute was female and alive. This was going to be the first time for him and he wanted it to be memorable, but he felt no need to be too discriminating.

Many were seduced by the city of Andor’s Edge. It catered to both the upright, and the more nefarious denizens of society. Anything could be procured, for a price. Whether that be life, death, or something in between. The city was a playground for the rich, built on the backs of the unfortunate. Finding a willing prostitute in such a place would be as simple as flipping a coin.

However the thug did not have much coin on him, and so it would be impossible to hire a high-class prostitute. He ventured into a back alley leading to the run-down area of the city. While not as safe as the other areas, this one was more convenient for what the hooded man intended to do.

It didn’t take long to find that which he was seeking. A heavily muscled man was standing outside the door of a low-class brothel, a crude drawing of a woman’s lips kissing a phallus was visible on a wooden plaque next to him. It would have been difficult to find were it not for the illuminated torches. The burly man was most likely a handler. He was responsible for the safety of the prostitutes and would also collect the brothel’s fee at the door. These individuals were often connected to large criminal organizations, and tended to act with a certain amount of impunity.

Coin was exchanged, it mattered little that the client had wrappings covering his face. There were plenty of clients who did not wish anyone to see them entering a brothel. Nobles with power and wealth, merchants of high standing, even those in religious orders. To the handler, this was just another client who didn’t want to be seen. As long as the price was paid, anything was fine, and so the handler let the mysterious man enter the brothel.

The hallway inside of the brothel was narrow, with just enough room to walk single file. The building itself was small, huddled into a corner of the already densely packed city. It was hardly a surprise that the inside of the building was so compact. This was a low class brothel after all.

Not only was it dirty, but there was a  smell made up from a myriad of cheap perfume, liquor, and sex.

The cramped hallway eventually broadened, opening up into a central area with many doors on either side. There were also additional hallways, each with doors lining the corridors. In many of these rooms there would be other clients who having paid the fee, were now being accompanied by one of the low class brothels’ prostitutes. All the hooded man had to do, was choose from one of the open doors. Inside he would find his prize, inside he would a find a woman, a woman who would soon become his.

Lacking any semblance of privacy, other than that of a closed door, the sound of moaning, fucking, and screaming could be heard from within. The man with his face in cloth wrappings paid them no heed, instead, he walked towards the farthest open door in the brothel. He was of one mind, and nothing else in this place mattered to him.

He approached the door, entering and closing it behind him. It was a simple room with no decorations. It had a bed and a chair, and that was all. It wasn’t necessary to provide the prostitutes with much in the way of luxuries.

However before the man could finish closing the door, a woman had put her arms around him from behind. She whispered in his ear, “hey baby, I was waiting for you.” Her voice was sultry and tantalizing, and of course what she said was a lie. It wasn’t as if she was waiting specifically for him, anyone would do.

Turning, he gently pushed her away at arm’s length and looked at her through the slit in his wrappings. She doesn’t seem afraid, he mused to himself. She was wearing heavy makeup, and was nothing special to look at. Her body was somewhat malnourished and the cheap perfume she wore tickled his nose. He didn’t really expect much from a cheap prostitute, but this one was less than anticipated. A thought came to him as he looked at her, This poor soul, she is probably just happy someone came, and he had every intention to help her.

The prostitute lifted her hands to the man’s face, “won’t you take off these wrappings so I can see your handsome face?”

The man took her hands in his and brought it to his side, placing her arm around his waist.

“There is no need for that right now, why don’t you take off your clothes and lay down on the bed,” the man instructed her with a firm, but calm voice.

The woman gave him a demure smile and tried her best to seductively remove her clothing. She then laid on the bed in a provocative manner, legs outstretched, revealing her well-trimmed groin. She teasingly played with her labia, inserting her fingers into her vagina while moaning and stretching her neck.

The man began undressing, taking off his cloak, loosening his belt, and removing his pants and finally his shirt. He was naked from the neck down, with only the cloth wrappings still visible on his face. The prostitute made sure to visibly ogle his manhood which was already fully erect. She was surprised at how large he was and became rather excited herself.

“See how wet you’re making me? Hurry over here baby, I will show you how good I am with my mouth,” the prostitute lightly bit her lip in anticipation while calling the man over to her.

He walked over to her and stood over the bed she was laying on, his erect penis directly over her body. The prostitute sat up on all fours and brought her mouth to his phallus, but the man stopped her.

“Do you wish to see my face?” he asked her.

She was a little surprised that he stopped her, but only momentarily. She recovered and gave him a coy smile, “I would love to see your handsome face baby.”

“Then lay down on your back.”

The naked woman laid down on the bed as the man had instructed her. She wasn’t expecting the man to get on the bad as well, but it didn’t bother her. He kneeled on the bed with her legs between his, and he began to unwrap the cloth on his head. The cloth wrappings seemed to consist of multiple pieces.

The woman let out a slight gasp. The man was far more handsome than she had expected and her heart began to beat even faster. She could barely look at him at first out of shock, but she smiled, happy at her good fortune meeting such a handsome and well-endowed man.

“I hope you don’t mind, I have a… certain fetish.”

The prostitute gave no reaction to the man’s words, many of the clients who frequented the brothel had one strange fetish or another. These women’s lives were not really their own, so anything was allowed in this place. All the prostitutes here could do was hope the client wasn’t too violent. Prostitutes had even been killed by clients. Anything was allowed, but if a client was too violent or killed one of the prostitutes, they would have to pay an additional fee.

She really hoped he wasn’t the violent type.

“What… what do you want me to do?” She didn’t plan to say that so nervously, but she couldn’t hide the concern in her voice.

The man noticed the concern in her voice, “don’t worry, you have nothing to fear from me. This is my first time, you see, and I have always wanted to try bondage. I want to tie you up, is that okay?” Surprisingly, the man’s voice was gentle and soothing, there was no hint of violence in his voice.

She relaxed, she was used to clients who liked to tie up the prostitutes. It got them off and made them feel like they were dominating the women. It gave them a sense of power and superiority, at least this man didn’t seem as if he wished to harm her. She didn’t believe for a second that he was a virgin, though, but she would play along.

“Of course, baby, you can tie me up any way you like. What position would you like?”

The handsome man seemed happy with her answer and replied, “just like that, don’t worry, I won’t tie it too tight.”

He proceeded to tie the woman’s arms and legs to the bed posts with the same cloth wrappings that he had used to hide his face. He was true to his word, and didn’t tie the cloth tight enough that it would cut into her skin, but  she was unable to break free. He had been very gentle while doing so which is why she felt relaxed with him. Infact as he tied her, she continued to entice him with her body.

When he was done tying her up, he still had one piece of cloth in his hands, the others had all been used up, “this will be the most unpleasant part, I apologize in advance.”

She didn’t understand what he meant by those words, but never the less they sent a chill down her spine. What does he plan to do? That question lingered in her thoughts and now she was afraid.

The man leaned forward, stuffing the remaining cloth into the prostitute’s mouth. She reacted slowly as she didn’t fully realize what the man was doing. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled. She was now terrified of what the man was going to do to her, and no one would be able to hear her scream.

While the woman’s body began to tremble in fear, the man stood up and then walked over to his belongings which were strewn across the floor. He removed a dagger from somewhere and walked over to the prostitute.

He looked down at her, he could see the fear deep in her eyes and he tried to calm her, “you have nothing to fear my dear, you will soon be free, that I promise you.”

These words did not alleviate the prostitute’s fears and she tried to struggle against the bindings that tied her to the bed. She could not break free, but she was not deterred, she was far from willing to just accept her fate and so, she struggled with all her might. The bed shook with her efforts, but no matter how she tried, it was in vain.

She screamed, hoping that her voice might reach someone, but no one came. Her world felt small, and she thought it would soon come to an end. Even though  her life had not amounted to much, she would regret losing

She ceased her struggle abruptly and looked up helplessly at the man standing over her, naked and holding a knife. There was no expression on his face, neither one of pleasure nor of pain. She couldn’t understand what was motivating him and all she could do was beg him with her eyes not to kill her.

What he did next was unexpected, he suddenly cut his left arm with the knife and began applying the blood that came out over her body. First, over her head, which caused her to wince in disgust. He then sprinkled his blood on her breasts, and down her body. There didn’t appear to be a pattern with how he was applying his blood on her, from what she could gather, all she could tell that he did not seem particularly bothered by what he was doing.

After the man was done, he dropped the knife to the floor and applied pressure on the wound with his right hand and waited patiently. The prostitute who was now covered in blood, could only stare in shock, not knowing what the man planned to do next. He seemed to be watching, observing her for some unknown reason.

All of a sudden, her entire body was wracked with extreme pain. Her body started to convulse, but because of the bindings, her body could only move slightly. The cloth in her mouth also stopped her from biting her own tongue as her body violently spasmed. She could no longer think, it felt as if her brain was rattling against her skull. The pain she felt was greater than anything she had ever felt before. It was indescribable and what was worse, was that her body felt like it was changing.

The man stood over her once more, now with a twisted and smug smile on his face. The first emotions he had shown since coming to the brothel. He looked down, satisfied, as if he had finally accomplished something he had been longing to do. He was pleased with the changes that were happening to the prostitute and was eagerly watching as her body was now being molded and shaped in accordance with his will, her soul also being warped and changed by his influence.

This was only the beginning, he was creating a new life. One that would owe him its very existence. Unlike god, who had abandoned him, he would not abandon that which he created. No, he would nurture this life and guide it fittingly as it’s creator.

Because this was his first time creating a new life, he didn’t want to make any mistakes. He had studied the details in his mind meticulously, looking through the various menus in his head, each one explaining the process of creation. He had already prepared the settings to shape the prostitute’s body into a form that he found aesthetically pleasing.

The shape of her face, the color of her eyes, race, hair, chest size, everything could be modified according to his will. He longed to create a new world, one filled with his creations. Why wouldn’t his creations be anything but beautiful, and more importantly aligned with his tastes. He continued to modify her body in his mind. Thankfully the settings were intricate and everything could be changed down to the smallest detail.

He found it enjoyable sculpting her body and once she was done, he would be familiar with every detail of her. He would be aware of every curve, and any small imperfections that were left out of fondness. Every single aspect of her.

The process was not as enjoyable for the former prostitute however, it was in fact very painful, but he felt nothing of one of God’s creations’ pain. Soon, she would be all his, and she would welcome the existence he had given her. In fact, she would no longer be a tainted and corrupt soul, but a pure one, filled with his love for her.

Once the body was sculpted, there still remained much to do. For now, she was a body without a personality, and the soul still needed to be shaped properly as well. The person she was, no longer existed, not in body nor in mind. He continued his efforts to shape her by shifting through the menus in his mind, looking through the various traits that he could assign to form her personality.

In essence, he had to choose two essential core positive traits and one essential core negative trait. These core traits would form the basis of her personality and would guide her existence, but she would still be able to learn and grow. She was a living being after all, and as such, was not limited by these essential traits, instead they were more like a starting point for her personality.

There was one limiting aspect to his creation: Every change he made to her, whether physically or mentally, required ‘Soul Potential’ or SP, which could only be obtained by devouring the souls of the living. It was similar to a point system with well-defined costs.

Sculpting an entire body incurred a fixed amount of SP, which would then allow him to change whatever he wished for until he was happy with the changes made. Once this was finalized, however, he would not be able to go back and change anything without incurring the same base cost. On top of that, each positive personality trait would cost a specific amount of SP depending on the type and effect of the trait. Negative traits could also be chosen but they would refund some of the cost of SP used in creating the personality.

The refund given when choosing negative traits may not seem that appealing, because one could always just acquire more SP, instead of relying on negative traits. But there was another additional benefit to negative traits. If certain conditions were met, a negative trait could not only be removed but, could also cause a positive trait to upgrade, in fact, it would even reveal an additional trait not available during creation.

Once the personality was set, he would need to decide what kind of profession she would have as well. This meant deciding a general direction that the creation would take. For example, there were combatant and noncombatant professions. When designating a creation as a combatant, a direction would need to be chosen.

There were three general directions which could be chosen under combatant, melee, ranged or magic. Once a general direction was chosen for the creation, the creation itself would then manage how they wished to grow under that direction themselves. There were endless possibilities within these general directions. Some of these being swordsman, knight, assassin, fire mage, water mage, etc…

He eventually finalized the details of his creation, choosing to make her a combatant who would follow a melee profession. Since she was his first creation, he needed to create a strong warrior who could manage and lead his future creations. She would also be very important for his future plans and so he created her with that goal in mind. In the end, he decided to give her one negative trait. Primarily because the advantages outweighed the disadvantages if she could overcome it.

The negative trait he gave her was ‘Jealousy.’ Not only would he be given a refund of SP for giving her a negative trait, but if she could overcome it, she would greatly benefit from it. Now that his creation had finally been completed and he accepted the changes in his mind.

The woman that now lay on the bed in front of him was completely different from the prostitute who was there before. They were, in fact, nothing alike, not in physical shape and condition, but neither in mind. This was a newly born creation, one that was untouched by any the other’s hand. He admired his own work and praised his creation in his mind.

Shortly afterward, his creation opened her eyes for the first time. They were a vibrant green. Now awake, he loosened the wrappings that had been binding the prostitute, freeing his creation from those shackles. After a moment of confusion, the woman rose and kneeled before the man who had created her. She seemed as if she was uncertain how she should act or what she should say. She looked up at her creator with expectant eyes.

“M..a..s..t..e..r” The woman spoke for the first time, her vocal chords still had some trouble working properly.

The man proudly looked over her and gave her a name, “Your name shall be Lenia.”

“L-E-N-I-A,” she struggled to speak her name.

For a new creation, there was a short period where the creation would need to adjust to its’ new life and would have difficulty speaking, they could also exhibit some type of confusion until their personality set in.

The woman’s master seemed very pleased, but his face soon turned grim.

“Good. Now, take this dagger and go and kill every person in this building.”

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