Heretic (Dishonored TF FtM MC)

“…Well?...!”

Normal days; she hasn’t had them in a long time. It was the thief, that day the fate of her and her family was sealed. With one wrong word, and a slip of the hands, her family was plunged into the depths of poverty. They used to be an average family; slightly above average, actually, maybe even bordering affluent. They said it was a bank error, but she knew better; it was him, and he snatched her family’s money right under their noses. As per government law, she was thrown into a room with other broke strangers away from her family; a young girl with her locket held close, a boy who a scratching sound seemed to always follow, a woman with a seemingly constant sneer, and a man with nothing left to lose. Now, left to fester with others in the government mandated rooms they now must call home, a boiling rage seethed from her, and a mantra from her tones; make him pay.

With a clang, the metal door slammed open, and three men slowly stepped out. Their steps were all heavy, except for the faint patter from the one in the middle; a man clad in black and white. With an unnerving smile, he pointed at her with his black gloved hand. “She’ll be perfect” he whispered, with one of the guards, two beasts of men of men, slowly lumbering towards her. The guard hoisted her above his shoulder, growling as he hauled her out of the door, her companions still asleep. As her face passed by the mysterious cloaked one, he just grinned a strangely friendly smile. With an accidental knock on the door frame, she was knocked out, her mind flashing black.

When she awoke, her body felt cold, and any attempt to move resulted in rattling. When she attempted to look down, she saw that she couldn’t move her neck; all that she could see was that she was shackled to a metal chair, arms and legs bound. The rattling sound she created as she struggled drowned out the sound of heavy boots on concrete. Framed in shadow, the bright lights shining off his cloak and glasses were almost blinding. She could just barely make out a grin on his face, before he stepped further into the light. It was the smaller man from earlier, except with an attire change; his boots looked heavier, and his cloak was now pure white instead of black and white. She momentarily stopped her struggling; “What do you want?” she growled, shooting a dirty glare at the strange man.

The man simply smiled wider, now showing teeth. “I’ve brought you here for a reason; I know what happened to you,” he said with a chuckle, “- and I know what you want.”

She simply cocked her head as much as the shackle would let her, frowning larger. “What do you mean you “know what I want?” she asked, still struggling. The sound of a crackling fire filled the room, causing her to struggle more. The man put his hand on hers, “What I mean by that is…. him.”

She cocked her head again, but before she could respond, he finished himself;

“- as in, make him pay.”

Her heart raced as the man grinned; how could he know about that thief? She caught her breath, in order to ask him, but he interrupted her once again. “He’s done that to so many people….” He sighed, “- and I think that you are the way we can finally bring him to his end, to make him pay.”

“What do you say? Will you comply, or would you like to be thrown back in with them?” the man seemed to sneer, holding his gloved hand out. She did not want to be with those lowlifes again, so she nodded; the thought of taking the thief down made her grin absent-mindedly. The cloaked man grinned, putting his other hand in the air in a ‘thumb-back’ motion, causing the clamps to unclamp and the chair to recede into the ground. She fell back with a thump, grabbing the man’s hand, who helped her up. “I’ll get you ready shortly; for now, just stay here” the man said, dashing off and leaving her alone. The crackling fire seemed to be getting louder, but she saw no fire in sight.

As she looked, she was suddenly thrown to the ground, a searing pain surging at her lower back. She hissed, grabbing the strange staff jabbed into her back and hurling it in a random direction. The one with the staff was hurled as well, crashing to the ground, with the staff clanging. When she looked at the source, she saw that it looked like one of the guards, and that the staff was a red-hot brand with a strange symbol on it. She pulled up her shirt to see what the brand was; the symbol was strange, being four straight lines, one horizontal and three verticals. The pain was almost unbearable, wincing from the brand, and her head now pounding.

She felt strange…?

The pain caused her to topple over, unconscious. When she woke up, she was in a blank medical room, with only a bed, a bed stand, and a closet. Her held her still-pounding head; this was not a normal sort of headache. She heard a creak and a clank as a door was closed and locked, which she dashed painfully towards. The door had glass, which she saw the cloaked man through; he seemed…. off, as if upset. She was now left alone, in a strange, unnatural room. Her head throbbed more, and a burning sensation pulsed throughout her body, causing her to kneel over in pain. She hissed, her nose bleeding and bone snaps booming in her ears.

The burning became more intense, and her skin became itchy. Her skeleton seemed to be becoming larger, and her organs seemed to be shifting throughout her torso, the burning being most intense in her abdomen. Her body seemed to be tearing itself apart and tossing away what was her and “repairing” it with someone else; a him. Her chest seemed to vanish, pushing itself in and burning away. Her body proportions seemed to all become larger, becoming taller and thicker, seeming to gain some muscle around her body. She spat as her skin itched even more, seeming to grow thicker hair around her body, though the same couldn’t be said for her head. Her, now his, throat was killing him now, and his now-deeper voice was now hoarse. His facial structure contorted into something much thicker and considerably gruffer, gaining a thicker jawline and a thin layer of 4-o’clock shadow. His scalp itched as his head hair fell off in large clumps to the floor. His body ached, and he winced in pain as his eyes were dyed a bright green color, replacing the last remnant of who once was.

He winced in aching pain as he hacked up blood; what had just happened? More importantly, why was he wearing a torn-up dress? He growled in disgust, tearing the dress off and looking around the room. The closet caught his eye, then dashing over to it and opening it to see what was inside. He was pleased to see that his proper attire was in it; red cloak with black pants and boots, along with his belt. He quickly snatched the clothes up and began putting them on. When he was done, he looked towards the door and began walking towards it. When he tried to open it, he found that it was locked. Infuriated, he stomped around the room, looking everywhere. While he searched, he found a keychain in the bed stand, with more keys than he needed for the door. When he got back to the door, he fumbled irritantly with multiple keys until he finally heard the satisfying click of the lock opening, in which he slammed the door open.

The High Overseer is back.