Limping my way down a hallway towards possibly my doom made me think about all the bad choices in life I'd made up to this point. I mean there were several hundred, but I was mainly focused on the ones that had screwed me lately. Which meant I went through a whole new pity party in the space of about a minute. At the end of the hallway was a bed with shackles on it (thank you for the torture devices guys, but again your dungeon sucks!) The doctor was waiting for me next to a bunch of tools that looked especially bad.
"Come in, come in, lay down this shouldn't take too long." I didn't like the implication of any of those things, the people who brought me in stripped my shirt off kind of roughly, when they saw my not really healed injuries including the bullet wound from the cultists they kind of were taken a back. I guess they were lucky all my real scars weren't there thanks to all the necromancy (I often wonder how bad my body would look like if all the scars and injuries I ever received showed up, I'm guessing fairly horrifying).
"No thanks doctor I feel fine." He indicated for his men to clamp me down and they did so, roughly, which hurt and since the alcohol was long gone the pain was excruciating. At this point I was humoring these assholes, but at that point my sense of humor was gone.
"Don't worry sir, this will only hurt really badly for a short moment and then you'll pass out." This was not as comforting as he would have had me believe. My impending doom in front of me, pain rushing through my body and a general sense of suddenly caring about not getting cut open I flexed my magical power and was glad to see it had returned from its drunken slumber (its like an erection in that regard, and just like an erection prolonged use can cause later problems... not that I've ever had that issue... it was a friend, of a friend, look shut up). The doctor was dangerously close to cutting into my abdomen when I burned his hand, it was a small display mind you, but it got his attention right quick. He called out to the men in the room to kill me and I beat him to the punch (why didn't I kill the doctor? Well curiosity mostly, but I'll get to that). It was refreshing to burn people to death again (yes that makes me a pyscho) my immediate enemies now screaming hulks of burning flesh I burned the shackles off and yes that was also painful, but necessary. Off the table I landed with a thud and that also hurt (but I knew I wouldn't be hurting for long). The rest of the guards arrived including Jorn, his look of fear when he saw his burnt comrades told me all I needed to know. I heated my hand up and plunged it into his chest, his screams were girly and not at all manly like he wanted them to be, with my hand inside of him I burned him from the inside out. I admit I'm psychotic, the good doctor at this point started screaming, but I blocked the exit out of the room, he took another scalpel in his good hand and extended it out to me like some primative warding.
"Everyone who doesn't want to burn alive might want to leave right now." They scattered and I turned my attention to the doctor.
"Stay back you firey demon."
"That's fine I can kill you from over here, proximity isn't required doctor." I just stayed at the front of the room and he sat there cowering. And that's where I'll leave you, you can probably guess what happened to the doctor, but getting there is always the fun part. Yes I'm psycho.
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