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Wash Away My Sins	By : horrorgal Category: +A through F > Amnesia: The Dark Descent Views: 2697 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own, Amnesia: The Dark Descent, nor the characters. I do not profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter 15

Daniel's life was no longer his own, but in the hands of a man that had been manipulating him since he had gotten that letter inviting him to Brennenburg. Days would pass without incident, so many at time that he thought maybe he had dreamt up some phantom of Alexander. Then something would happen to shatter his notion of safety. Hushed whispers, doors creaking open on their own accord, visions of the past in front of his very eyes that no one else could see.

John knew not what was wrong, but he could tell something was amiss. It was hard to pretend you were not in a constant state of fear, but Daniel did as Alexander had bid him, worried that one misstep would cost John his life, or maybe something even more terrifying. Memories of those tortured souls haunted him, freshly recalled memories worming their way into his already crumbling mind. He didn't want to keep remembering those dark days of insanity, but fate would not let him rest so easily.
John was off on business most days, and it was just as well. It was easier to avoid the servants when he was having a difficult time. He could order them to leave him to his privacy, and they obeyed. He did this often, even when all was quiet, still and free of madness. It gave him time to think of a solution to his dire situation. He thought of ways to stop Alexander and destroy the orb he controlled, even though he knew it was folly to imagine he could achieve it. Alone, Alexander was powerful, but with the power of the orb in his hands, he was surely unstoppable.
Daniel looked blankly at the journal page he had just written, chewing his thumbnail. He forced himself to keep writing down anything that happened, good or bad, to keep a record. He often worried John would come across it and read what would probably look like the scribbles of a madman. Who could believe any of this was true? John said he believed him when he told him about Brennenburg, but how much could one believe if they had not seen it for themselves?
Daniel shivered, even though the fire kept the room warm. He closed the journal and tied the leather bindings before he slipped it back into the case beside the desk. He had to get outside. He had stayed inside far too long since this began. He dressed appropriately for the cool weather, then made his way downstairs. He took his coat from the rack and barely had it slipped on before the butler asked if he needed assistance. He forced a smile and shook his head, muttering that he was just going for a walk and left quickly before Robert could ask him anything further.
It was overcast, the clouds thick and gray. The air was cool and felt bracing against his face. He breathed deep and felt clearer of mind and body as he walked along. Winter was nearly at a end. He wondered if they would be heading back to the farm once spring took hold. John had not spoken much about it since they arrived in London. Daniel supposed it didn't matter where they were, Alexander would always be watching. It chilled him, far more than the coldest air could.
He passed people as he made his way along the cobbled road, faceless strangers that he did not bother to acknowledge. These strangers were just as happy to do the same, going about their daily business. Daniel really didn't have a destination in mind and he just walked for a time. When he came across the bookseller on Chapel Street, he stepped inside. The store was nearly void of customers, only a woman and her young child. The woman smiled pleasantly to him. He smiled back with a slight nod.
"Good afternoon, Sir. Anything particular you are looking for?" the shop keeper asked.
"No, thank you," he said and looked along the shelves. "Just browsing for anything interesting."
The man nodded and smiled in a way that made Daniel nervous. It wasn't a mere pleasant curve of the lips, but a grin that looked strangely too large for his face. Daniel looked away quickly and stared at the shelf of books along the wall. It was probably just the lighting in the shop that gave the odd illusion. He glanced at the man and was relieved to see he was no longer smiling, working on the binding of a book he had in front of him on the counter.
Daniel shook himself and searched the shelves for a book that might perk his interest. It kept his mind busy as he looked over the titles. He did love books. He always had, even as a child. It was one of the few things that kept his mind at ease. Yet, as of late, it hadn't been much of a comfort. He took a book and flipped through a few pages before he put it back in it's spot. Horror stories. He had enough of that in his everyday life.
He moved to another shelf and heard the young girl giggle across the room. He smiled. It was a nice sound, one of happiness. Her mother spoke to her, voice hushed in the quiet of the shop. He searched more titles and froze on one that looked familiar. A History of Prussia. Yes, it was one of the many volumes of book he had seen while at Brennenburg. The archives had an endless amount of books, and he could not possibly remember them all, but he remembered many.
His eyes swept across the bound book covers, and more titles reignited his memory. He was chewing his thumbnail again, a nervous tick he had developed over the last few months when something unsettled him. He wasn't even aware he was doing it, eyes gazing from title to title. It could be nothing more than coincidence, but it was odd to see so many tomes of this age in a book shop in London. His dread only deepened when he saw the word Brennenburg on another cover, the binding made of old leather.
The light of the shop had dimmed, unnoticed until now. Daniel closed his eyes and silently prayed. Not here, not now. Not while I'm outside the safety of home. The girl's laughter continued, the sound more mocking than joyous to his ears. He dared to open his eyes and his breath caught when he saw the books were now ruined from age and moisture. He had to leave before things got worse, and they always did. Alexander was unrelenting with his twisted games of torment.
His footsteps made a unnatural echo as he turned to go back to the front of the shop where the door to freedom should have been, but the room had changed. He was no longer in the book shop, or London for that matter. He recognized the dimly lit hallway that was part of the archives section of Brennenburg Castle. He knew this could not be, but the vision looked and felt so real. Lamps flickered their pale light along the wall, as a breeze threatened to extinguish what little illumination they gave.
The girl's laughter turned into a sob, the sound haunting and tragic. Daniel turned to look, but the hallway was empty of anyone. He backed up, thinking only to flee this place. There was always a way out, he just had to find it. He moved along the hallway, searching for a source of light to help him along the way. He found a lit candle and grasped the holder. Not the best, but it was better than nothing for the thick darkness ahead. He held the candle aloft as he searched for a way out.
The walls appeared more decrepit than he remembered, rot and moisture penetrating what was once grand. There was a strong smell of decay that filled his nose and reminded him of death. This whole damn place was death. The floor was littered with broken furniture, books and fallen paintings. He even spotted what could only be human bones amongst the clutter. He did not want to linger to find out for sure, so he pressed on, trying to control the panicked thud of his heart.
He passed a window, the glass covered with muck and pitch, blotting out any daylight that might have helped his progress. He hoped what light he had would be enough to get him through this living nightmare. He approached a door that was slightly ajar, listening closely as his breath rasped through parted lips. He heard nothing, but his skin crawled as if he were being watched. He grimaced and nudged the door open with the tip of his boot. The door made a horrible squeak the set his teeth on edge and his hands to trembling.
More deterioration greeted him, along with dank air and endless darkness. Shadows danced to the fluttering flame of the candlewick, creating the illusion of movement within that made him take a few staggering steps back. He had to face this test. That was the rule to this demented game that Alexander wished to play. He stood, unmoving, staring into the room until he was satisfied nothing lurked in the inky blackness.
When he summoned the courage he went inside, lighting another candle on the desk. He looked around, not sure why he had even entered the room. Nothing inside was useful, and it was void of windows, not that it would have helped his situation. Reality or vision, he wasn't going to try climbing out of a window at this height. If he had no other choice though... He couldn't allow himself to think of suicide, and he knew that Alexander would prevent such desperation, even if he had the will to attempt it. He rummaged the room, looking around for any kind of weapon, but found nothing but ruined books and broken vases.
Back in the hallway he felt no less trapped, becoming more anxious with each passing minute. He pressed ahead, going on fractured memory alone to find the exit to Brennenburg. The path being clear was another matter all together. A pile of rock blocked one path, and more cloaked darkness filled another. His bravery was beginning to fray a bit at a time, but he moved along quickly, aware that his candle was burning lower the longer he lingered.
Thunder rolled, the sound muffled inside the thick walls of the castle. Daniel heard something under the rumbling, a soft whisper that echoed off cold stone. It surrounded him, forward, back and above. The ghostly female voice was wordless, more like a low hum that rose and fell, fracturing his already fragile nerves. His body was tense and a cold sweat was settling on his skin. He switched the candle to his other hand, wiping his moist palm on his trousers, all the while trying to ignore the persistent musical tone of the disembodied voice that followed him.
The storm without grew ever present as he explored the ruins of Brennenburg. Lightening scissored across the sky, the bright flash visible through a dirty window he passed, it's aura making the hallway more distinct, but no less mysterious. The melody ceased and a shrill scream made his stomach lurch. He lost hold of the candle with the piercing sound, and as the wax stick fell, it's feeble flame was extinguished. Daniel yelled and clamped his hands over his ears to block out the scream, mourning the loss of light. The lingering smell of the burnt wick mingled with a stench of something rotten and foul.
"STOP, STOP, STOP!" he yelled in protest, rushing forward heedlessly. He stumbled over something hard and fell, the landing jarring his body. He bit his tongue and tasted blood, warm and coppery. The pain was insignificant to his panic as he crawled and pushed himself to gain his feet. The scream faded and the sobbing returned, dreadful and filled with sorrow. Daniel made only a few steps before his vision wavered and darkened, threatening to pull him down. His need to get away was not enough to fight his slipping sanity and he was brought to his knees, cowering.
The girls voice, one of innocence, spoke hushed behind him, as if she were scared he would hear her. "Mum, why did he kill me? Why did he hurt me so?" The pungent odor of death was unbearable.
"Oh, God," Daniel whimpered, easing slow on his hands and knees, grinding his teeth to fight waves of nausea and the threat of unconsciousness.
"He is a evil man, my child. A man that puts his own life above all others," the mother rasped.
"No... I'm..not... I..," he said, blood dripping over his lip, thick like warm honey. He could see a open door at the end of the hall, and light. Glorious daylight. It had not been there before, but it did not matter. That was his escape. He forced himself to crawl faster, knees aching, hands cut and bleeding from the fall.
"There is no need to fear him now, my little one. Look at how he tries to crawl like a beaten dog."
The little girl laughed. "Mum, he thinks he is going to get away from us."
"He is ours now," the mother said.
"Ours," the girl agreed.
Daniel could feel them there as well as he could hear them. He didn't want to look back. He stubbornly inched forward towards the light that shown like a beacon. His limbs felt heavy and his head swam, threatening to pull him under like heavy waves in a bottomless sea. He couldn't die here. Wouldn't die. Alexander didn't wish him dead. "Alexander, you bastard," he gasped out. The bastard in question did not answer him, but the mingled laughter of the two creatures stalking him did. Their voices no longer sounded like anything earthly, but guttural and wet as if choked by phlegm and bile, their anger like icy daggers along his spine.
With every breath, with every second, he expected to feel clammy dead hands pull him back into the darkness where only the unimaginable would happen to him. He had to get on his damn feet and run or he would never make it. Daniel forced himself up, and angry snarls followed as he ran, unsteady, but determined for the door. They were no longer toying with him, but chasing him like predators chasing down their next meal. He could hear the slapping of wet flesh on stone and the eerie groans getting closer.
Something snagged the back of his coat as he neared the door and he yelled, twisting away from the grasp. He grabbed the side of the opening and kicked at the monster that was determined to have him. Another hand grabbed his hair and he yelled, using his elbow to throw against his attacker. Their eager holds on him loosened and he rushed through the door. It was only then that he turned to see the monsters that hunted him. His breath seized at the sight of them as he backed further away from their reach. Their flesh was gray and foul like corpses that had been left to rot, nails black, eyes cloudy and leaking putrid fluids, hair moldy and ragged. Their mouths were long and stretched unnaturally like the servants of Brennenburg that had relentlessly hunted him.
He continued to back away, too terrified by them to even see where he was. They growled and groaned savagely at their escaped prey, but they would not pass the barrier of the door to claim him. They could not, but their death stench still reached him. He retched and covered his mouth as he backed up, his heart still pounding in a hectic flutter. Under the fear and pain he felt regret and shame. He killed that poor innocent child. Mother and child deserved their vengeance, but he would not give them it. They were dead. He lived.
"You can't have me!" Daniel yelled. They shrieked at him in protest. The door slammed shut on their eternal fury and he watched in wonder as the doorway slowly disappeared as if it had never been there at all, their mournful voices vanishing with it. There was only a bare wall, wooden and dusty with age. He slid heavy onto the floor and sat, the silence pressing around him. He saw the room around him as he caught his breath. It was the shop he had entered, but it was empty, bare of any books or people, old and forgotten. The light came through the storefront window, the glass as filthy as the rest of his surroundings.
He closed his eyes, feeling his pains more distinctly now. His tongue felt swollen and stung where he had bitten down on it, his hand ached and his knees felt bruised. He felt as if he could sleep for days, but he had to leave this place. He pushed off the floor and rose, brushing pointlessly at his clothes. He was filthy as well as beaten. He exited the empty shop, grateful no one was about to see him in such a state coming out of the closed up building. He saw that he wasn't even on Chapel Street as he had thought when he entered the shop, but a area that was mostly quiet and abandoned to the poor and feeble. He wanted to laugh and cry at once.
Daniel moved along, wanting nothing more than to get home and have a long hot bath and try to forget, though he knew forgetting was impossible. He walked until he found himself in a more populated area of the city. Most people ignored his appearance, others muttered behind their hands and watched him with disgust, pity or fear. Given the choice, he rather be feared. He regretted the thought and felt shamed just as quickly. He hurried along faster as he did his best to be invisible and insignificant, avoiding walking too close to anyone.
A carriage neared, but it did not pass him as others had. The driver reared in the horses and looked down at him, his face mostly covered by a scarf, his eyes as dark as coal. Daniel stepped back, the chill of the day seeping back into his bones as his arms went around himself. He didn't have to guess who was inside the carriage. He could feel him there. He forced his eyes away from the driver and looked in the direction he had been walking. Just keep going. Ignore him like everyone else.
"Get in, Daniel," Alexander's rich voice bid him from within. The carriage door opened. He dare not refuse and got inside, sitting across from the man he equally loathed and feared, but too weary to feel much of anything as the carriage moved on with a soft jerk. "You do look a mess," he observed.
Daniel's hands curled into fists, using the sore ache of them to fuel his anger. "Thanks to you."
"Perhaps." He tapped his walking stick soft on the carriage floor. "It's a means, Daniel. Through trial, you will get stronger." He smiled. "You did try to murder me. I have to punish you before you can become whole."
"Just kill me and be done with this."
"You don't want to die any more than I do. Do not speak so foolishly."
Daniel sighed, his anger shriveling like a leaf to fire. He didn't want to admit to the bastard that what he said was true. He fought to live and he would continue to do so. He looked down, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Alexander seemed content to let him rest, going quiet for the remainder of the ride. The soft sway of the carriage lulled him and he slipped into sleep without meaning to.
When he next awoke, it was to a soft touch against his cheek and Alexander's lips against his ear. "We are here, Daniel." He gasped and jerked away from him, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. The older man was amused. "You're quite attractive, sleepy and dishevelled as you are."
Daniel grabbed the handle to open the door, but Alexander's hand clamped over his wrist, much stronger than he should have been capable of, but Daniel knew the reason. He wasn't a old man, or even human. Daniel held his breath and stilled his escape. It would be folly to try. "What do you want?" he asked, voice a whisper.
"It will do no good for your...lover," Alexander said with no restraint of his anger, "to see you injured so. Let me heal you first."
Daniel looked at him, uncertain, but curious. "Heal me?"
Alexander took his hands in his own, that were wrinkled with age, but strong and warm. There was a warmth and a soft numbing feeling across the palms of his hands. Daniel held his breath as the ache and sting from the cuts vanished. When Alexander let him go, the wounds were gone along with the pain. Even the blood did not remain, only filth from the floor he had crawled across.
"How?"
Alexander touched his face and he flinched from the caress again. "Open your mouth," Alexander ordered, gripping his chin more firmly when gentleness would not keep Daniel still. He did as Alexander said, the tightening of his fingers against his lower jaw not giving him any other choice. His eyes widened when the older man pressed his lips over his, tongue invading his mouth and sliding over his. Daniel's fierce objection was muffled as he felt his body pressed firmly against the seat of the carriage. He tried to turn his head away, but Alexander would not allow it, tongue slick and exploring. A warmth, not unlike how his hands had felt, filled his mouth and the pain eased.
When Alexander pulled back, it was all Daniel could do to move away and work the door open. His deep laughter followed him as he nearly fell out of the carriage and righted himself, stumbling away as if the Devil himself was on his heels. Alexander was something worse. He wiped at his mouth, only becoming aware that his tongue was no longer swollen and painful after his shudders of disgust had subsided.
"No words of thanks, Daniel?" he asked. Daniel said nothing, walking as fast as his legs would carry him to the door. The sounds of the retreating carriage and Alexander's laughter could be heard, even as he shut the door against it.

AN: Another chapter. Sorry for the wait to those who are reading this; if anyone is. I am just enjoying writing it. I had to laugh a bit at the fact that Daniel picked up the candle for light. I found it amusing he couldn't do that in the game, and his lantern was his only option. Game mechanic wise, it made sense though to, "keep you in the dark".
- 14
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- 16
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Wash Away My Sins