Blood.
More blood.
It never ends.
I thrust my vermillion blade straight through the heart of an eager, yet ruthless hellion, yielding a pathetic cry from its soot-filled lungs; witnessing the life promptly retreating from its coal-like eyes. I grit my teeth and angle my sword so that it is pointing downwards at the scoarched loam, before stomping the heels of my boots down on the fresh limp corpse. The demon´s motionless body stubbornly slides down my blade, as flesh begins to tear, ultimately relenting after a few tries. I watch it slowly slump unceremoniously onto the cracked, hardened earth.
This is where they belong. Dead and on the ground. In that same fleeting moment after death, when quietude dawns and lingers, but only for a few temporal seconds, a tainted, dark sphere emerges from its broad reddened chest - slowly ascending into the air. Leaving nothing to chance, I quickly seize it. Hesitation isn´t welcome here. If anyone catches so much as a single flicker of fragility, you are dead. Preyed upon. Devoured.
Here, in the treacherous realm of the inferno, the hells, you are nothing more than mere sustenance, a resource used to replenish another self-serving hell-spawn. I stare down at the orb gripped between my fingers - at my mercy. Dark swirls of murky grays and dim shades of scarlet perpetuate in rapid circulation, as though an abominable cyclone was trapped inside a crystallised ball. Emanating with a heavy infernal energy. I bring the fresh soul to the edge of my blade, allowing it to bite into the newly plucked life force and draw in its essence, consuming it. My beloved sword trembles and glows with an ardent, molten red before setting itself aflame.
It burns with a feverent bloodlust and an almost unquenchable desire to unleash malice upon the damned. I release a long, once-withheld sigh, feeling the handle of my sword judder in my grip, and take a second to gain my bearings. To ground myself in the moment. I mentally absorb my surroundings. All I see before me are mountainous heaps of soulless husks submerged in obsidian blood and covered by ash, rotting in the unforgivable heat of this godforsaken wasteland.
I´ve lost count of how many lives I have taken - stolen. Consumed.
I can´t even recall the last time I had slept - or how long I have been imprisoned in this turbulent realm of fire. Moving sequential images of that king´s demise constantly occupy my mind, playing out in innumerable outcomes. Each one is different and equally as bloody. His death is warranted. Mine to claim. I will reap his soul from his brutalised carcass. But then again, would his death compensate for all of these years of being forced to fight a conflict that isn´t mine?
A usurper´s uprising.
A historical moment in the hells I had helped execute.
Here, I have become nothing more than a pawn in someone else´s wicked game, and you can blame my ex-husband for selling me out like cattle. I spit at the malnourished turf, repulsed by the very thought of him - the very notion of the deal that was made behind my back. It was as if all those years of being married and having a son together meant nothing.
Was it really just a lie so he could achieve his ambition for power and immortality, or did he truly succumb to paranoia and lunacy alone?
My memory of him has blurred over time. I´m not sure what to believe anymore. The only thing that is clear to me is my conviction.
I cast my gaze over to the smouldering, red horizon where the obsidian fortress lies. Where the usurper now resides from within.
I know what must be done.
I approach the heavy set of crystallized doors and clench the handle of my sword tightly in my hand with the flames still continuously dancing upon the blade´s edge, flaring up brightly in response to my current sentiments. In tune with my desire to wreak havoc. I raise my sword above my head before whamming it down upon the doors, unleashing the might of thousands of fallen foes. A single blade imbued with the armies of the damned.
My pride and joy.
Debris hurtles forward after a sudden impact - Laid to waste.
I tread through the strewn evidence of obsidian ruin, and as the dust settles, I find all hellish eyes on me.
Those infernal eyes.
I resume in stride, making my presence all the more obvious to all who reside within these grand walls. And inside this very room, an infamous devil sits upon a throne of obsidian with unfathomable riches scattered around his skeletal feet. A dark robe hangs loosely off his slender and ridged frame. Worn and tattered at the ends. Horns protrude from each side of his skull, curving inwards, almost greeting each other directly at the tips. Strands of long black hair drape over his countenance. His hood enshrouds the majority of his bone-like facial features - often obscuring his expressions.
Brymthos
He taps the arm of the throne with his index finger, signifying his impatience. I come to a halt. Standing only a metre or two from the throne, and facing the marble steps.
"You´re late." He muttered.
"I did as you asked." I countered, keeping my tone low and firm.
He grumbles under his breath and waves his hand dismissively. The Usurper proceeds to rise from his newly acquired throne and takes a step towards the top of the steps.
"You have done what was asked of you and fulfilled your end of the agreement by eliminating those who dared to oppose me. Oppose my rightful ascension to the throne. Even if they were mere subjects or my blue-blooded kin." He says out loud, almost seeming to convey a hint of remorse in his speech. I choose to remain silent and refrain from commenting. To me, a hellion is a hellion. They are all the same here. Filthy. Scheming.
"Paradonia, my dear child. From the moment I first saw you, I knew you had the raw and unbridled capacity to deliver the perfect amount of excruciation to my enemies. I will never forget that seething hatred for the self-righteous king who cast you out into the hells. I knew you wanted to leave this realm just as much as I yearned to rule it." He elevates his arm and clenches his hand into a fist. Fire swiftly sets itself alight and frolics upon his sharp knuckles as he revels in the presence of triumph. "Paradonia, you have given me more than I could ever have dreamed of."
Then he opens his arms wide.
"Now come, and receive your just reward." He declares aloud with a parted embrace, and then behind him, a spiralling vermillion portal tears into the fabric of existence, like a searing wound inflicted upon reality itself. I approach the first marble step and make my way up. A faint crack of a smile spreads subtly across his pale face, as though he were proud? As though I was the true offspring sired from unforgiving pits of the inferno.
His.
As I finally take the final step, my gaze briefly meets his depraved, soulless one. With no time to spare, I lunge forward and drive my sword deep into his chest. Piercing his dark, malformed, and corrupted heart, slick with grime. An agonized wail erupts from his throat. Rattling his very soul. His heart combusts into flames, and screams echo throughout the grandiose hallways of the sombre fortress before his entire body succumbs to a pile of hot ash, adorned with diminishing embers.
I smile down at the display of irony and watch as the tainted soul emerges from the incinerated remains. I crouch down and quickly pluck it from the bed of ash, finding myself staring at it longer than necessary. I feed it to my beloved blade. It radiates a molten white and smoulders with chthonic joy.
I turn around to behold the wide, gormless stares and mouths hanging agape. Never have I seen such vapid expressions, but then again, hellions weren´t particularly a bright sort in the first place. Always so stupid. Simple. Wretched. Vile.
I direct the tip of my sword and point it downwards, aiming at the floor, and penetrate the soot-covered marble. Infernal fissures creep forth and branch outwardly, like fiery roots. Fracturing the tiles. Fire rages from within the cracks, rising higher and higher with each passing second. Entrapped inside the flames are the screaming demonic souls that were conquered and devoured by my weapon. Driven mad by fury and contempt, they lash out with their enflamed talons, itching to drag all that surrounds them into the eternal hellfire. Maniacal laughter from the stolen souls overwhelms and drowns out the terrified cries of the unclaimed demons, who are now destined to serve my blade.
But it doesn´t simply stop here.
It will never stop.
Not until everything burns.
Like a great feast, the element consumes and burns everything in sight. I take this final moment to have one good look at the fresh destruction before turning my back on it all completely. I walk over to the blood-filled portal and step through, towards the unknown, with my hell-defined weapon in hand.