Immortalis and the Promenade Scenes That Turn Watching Into Participation
In the shadowed corridors of Corax Asylum, where the clatter of clocks and the distant shrieks of the damned form a relentless cadence, Nicolas DeSilva orchestrates spectacles that blur the line between observer and victim. These are the promenade scenes of Immortalis, not mere displays of cruelty, but engineered pathways where the act of watching drags the spectator into the fray. The asylum itself, with its labyrinthine passages and hidden chambers, serves as the perfect stage, compelling even the most detached soul to participate in the unfolding horror.
Consider the hall of mirrors, that twisting warren of angled glass where Lucia, the second Immoless, stumbles through a cacophony of distorted reflections. Mirrors pulse and shift, revealing flayed inmates, stretched limbs, festering wounds, all screaming in harmony with the asylum’s violin concerto. Nicolas steps through the glass like a specter, his elongated skull and narrowed eyes marking the Long-Faced Demon’s emergence. ‘Run rabbit,’ he growls, and the chase begins. What starts as Lucia’s desperate flight becomes a promenade, her every turn watched, her pain amplified for the mirrors’ endless audience. The viewer, whether inmate or intruder, feels the pursuit in their own quickened breath, the labyrinth closing in not just on her, but on all who witness.
The Dokeshi Carnival offers another promenade, its rusted rides and ghost train a decayed invitation to join the game. Allyra sprawls on the merry-go-round steps, ignoring the red eyes from the ghost train shadows. Nicolas approaches from behind, his legs framing her shoulders, invading her space without preamble. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he murmurs, launching into a lecture on pre-battle truces. The carnival, once a place of fleeting joy, now promenades the spectator into Nicolas’s twisted negotiation, where escape is offered but never granted. Allyra’s resistance, her refusal of his ‘safe passage,’ turns the abandoned fairground into a stage where watching her defiance implicates everyone in the inevitable hunt.
Even the grander banquets at Castle D’At en pull observers into the promenade. Theaten, Anne, and Tepes dine on tribute, carving with silver while discussing Immoless fates. Allyra sits among them, the conversation a veneer over the brutality of sliced thigh and wrist-bleeding. Theaten’s flirtation, Anne’s sensual probing, Tepes’s silent observation, all promenade Allyra toward the blood chalice, where mutual feeding seals her transformation. The nobility watches, but their gaze is participatory, each sip of blood wine drawing them into the ritual’s dark communion.
These promenade scenes define Immortalis, where the architecture of horror ensures no one remains a mere watcher. Nicolas’s asylum, the carnival’s decay, the castle’s elegance, all compel immersion. The spectator becomes the stalked, the judged, the fed upon, participation inevitable in a world where the promenade leads only to the predator’s embrace.
Immortalis Book One August 2026