Stories

A Dangerous Encounter

Characters: Demon Zerek, Phayne

Location: Phayne’s Castle in Hell

Context: The story follows Zerek, an unfinished demon (half-human, half-demon) who recently escaped the torture of Grieve. Now trapped in Hell, he searches for freedom alongside his demon companion, Akyro.

Seeking shelter from a storm of acidic rain, the two enter a cursed castle where its endless shifting halls and strange doors lead them in circles. Inside, they encounter “Crawlers,” grotesque, zombie-esque beings that stalk the corridors. The castle also houses countless enchanted rooms cluttered with objects from various eras and realities.

Amid the chaos, Zerek and Akyro are separated. Alone, exhausted, and desperate to reunite, Zerek pushes deeper into the ruined halls. He narrowly escapes one of the Crawlers, but quickly realizes something far worse may be lurking in the castle’s shadows...

The hairs on the back of his neck prickle and he comes to a pause. His step hovering above the floor as he's pulled into an abrupt silence.

Uneasiness washes over him in waves but he finds nothing around him; deciding to continue on, he finishes his step down and braves his way forward into the dark hallway. Gripping the wall for support, Zerek brushes his fingers across the uneven surface of the old paneling as if it's a lifeline. Keeping him grounded in this magical place; however, a nagging inner voice knows these walls are just as cold and uncaring as the rest of this damp place. His feet barely make another inch before a new wave of terror washes over him as unyielding as the last.

Glancing around, searching for the source of this offending feeling, he watches as the dark walls, cast in their eerie quiet, tower around him. They loom around him in a size he was certain they hadn't been prior. A hungry creaking slides up the walls and above him, like a growling stomach greedy to consume its next meal; an ominous presence all of its own. Zerek reminds himself he's alone. As if that would make this bizarre place feel more friendly.

Or so he assumed; for at this moment there came a heavy shuffle of large clawed feet approaching from ahead. Their scrapes echoing down the damp stonework of the hall before him.

Zerek flinches at the sound of his own shaking breath, far too loud for comfort and he opts to hold his breath.

It's the shadow he sees first. Growing steadily against the wall to his right, just up ahead of him. The shadow slithers up the walls, taking shape of a shaggy and horned creature as it grew and grew.

Transfixed with a heavy dread, Zerek watches in silence as the dark shapes become clearer the longer his eyes linger; watching with bated breath as a large, hunched figure emerges from an old charred hole in the wall.

The figure trudges across his path, seemingly unaware of its onlooker. Its eyes fixated lazily towards the other side of the hallway wall, where another rubbled entrance stands agape.

Despite its tall height, the creature's limbs are thin, and draped over its shoulders is a black fur cape, fur sticking out in all different directions. It's body appears to be steaming with a heat Zerek can feel from his spot down the hallway. A heavy heat hangs in the air, like a humid, seering weight that makes it harder to breathe the more the seconds pass.

Long horns run down towards unkempt raven hair, with a hooked nose resting upon a putrid, and hideous face.

Its face being littered with pustules, boils and other unsightly greasy blemishes. It's enough to make skin crawl; and yet this was nothing compared to the spiked teeth that jet out of the creature's bottom jaw, far too long, yellowed and jagged to stay within a permanently open and drooling maw. It looks as if they were exploding out of his face and Zerek can't hold back a wince of disgust.

This 'man' wears a constant scowl, and honestly, Zerek can't blame him. He is painful to look at.

Besides the undead-like Crawlers that roam these secluded halls, this beast is the first other 'life' form that he's encountered since separating from Akyro. How long has it been? Time is of no consequence here...

A screech from back down the hallway echoes behind him, pulling Zerek from his stunned silence; and he whips his head around as if to hush the screaming creature and repair the silence.

The Crawler from earlier apparently has found its way out of a room, crawling down the hallway towards Zerek at an alarming speed. It's entrails being dragged behind at its twitching pace.

Zerek had merely stolen a glimpse at the offending sound; when he is harshly reminded to return his gaze back to the other side of the corridor. A cold sense of being watched begining to burn into the back of his neck.

Piercing yellow and black eyes bear their attention down Zerek's path with ferocity.

Zerek stifles a gasp.

As the eyes latch upon him with such a fierce hold, Zerek fears he can't move should he even try. Forcing a step backward, it all but feels painful for him, under such a gaze. A familiar feeling encases him, urging him into action. That of a helplessness he can't quite shake. Frantic and useless to fight. A desperate, clinging fear that he's only known while in his time with Grieve.

The two of them lock into a painful silence, for as long as the impending Crawler allows. An internal shivering overtakes him while the demon's eyes wander over him, studying Zerek with an angered annoyance; and yet, the creature's bright gaze reflects a dark curiosity. The moment leaves Zerek feeling filthy, as if having been physically caressed by the grotesque creature.

It is with but a blink, that the demon begins to charge towards him at inhuman speed. It's heavy footfalls scraping the floor as it moves.

Zerek turns around, not needing to be told twice and flees down the hallway, boldly taking the Crawler head on.

The closest door is within his reach, as it is too, for the Crawler. Zerek prays to a god he knows not exists, prays that he can reach the door before either of his pursuers catch up to him. Prays that the door leads him magically 'away', like so many of the others have.

The Crawler, eyes blood ridden with rage and madness, drags its bloody stumps rapidly towards Zerek with sickening, wet thuds. Its horrible shrieking peircing the air, creating a chorus of echoes down the hallway behind him.

Although the echoes quickly become muffled, indicating the creature is immediately behind him. Zerek can only think of escape, lest his knees will buckle beneath him. The Crawler is nothing to him. He dares not look behind. He knows what looming shape be at his heels and can't bear a thought of its rancid breath against him.

Seconds before the creature collides with him, Zerek rams himself through the door, slamming it shut with such a force, he fears it will fly from its hinges.

A heavy thump rumbles the old door, and he holds it in place, his breathing ragged. The wood rattles violently against his hands and then comes to an abrupt and sudden stop.

Silence.

The door does not swing open, or break down. The Crawler's screech, and the thumping footsteps of the beastly demon have vanished. Too quickly, he finds himself hesitating to open the door, holding it for a moment longer, just in case...

Something doesn't sit right in his gut.

He's still on edge, the adrenaline pumping rapidly in his ears, despite the welcoming silence of the room. Of course he's on edge! What the fucking Hell was that thing? Having come across many demons in his travels through the death realm, not one of them has come close to what he's felt just now- in that creature's presence. Is it even a demon? What else can it be?

Zerek takes a deep breath and turns the knob, timidly opening the door. It taunts him with a snapping creak and he grits his teeth. Quickly finding himself facing an entire wall of purple flames!

He's ready to slam the door shut again, but a moment's curiosity gets the better of him. The flames seem to be well contained... as if by an invisible force. Magic?

He notices the silence, realising the flames wield no sound. There is heat, yes, and it's practically blinding, causing him to take a step back. The flames, however, do not jump or reach out to him.

It's not right.

Is it the same hallway on the other side of it? Has the room not spirited him to another area of the castle, like all the others before it? Having learned to trust these feelings of unease, he wearily closes the door and steps back to examine the rest of the area.

Unsurprisingly, the mountain of random objects that greet him as he wanders into the new room is a welcome sight, and one he's come to expect. He fills his muscles loosen. He's okay. As the beating of Zerek's pulse begins to slow down, the silence of the room is broken. Somewhere, in the vast and dusty room, a creaking of another door opens and closes with a sharp and sudden click.

His heart sinks as heavy heat fills the room once more.

It's in here with him.

Whorker Makes a House Call

Characters: Whorker, Scourge

Location: Forest Glade

Context: Mini written response for a Toyhou.se RP thread. The thread prompt was to write a character healing or consoling another character that is in distress / wounded mentally or physically. As Whorker is a backalley demon doctor in his world, he receives a spiritual cry for help from a wounded soul in the woods somewhere...

Whorker was finely attuned to hearing cries, whether they were cries of agony, or cries for help, he could hear them all, no matter the distance. It could get quite loud sometimes, all those cries, but Whorker was made for it and often found himself relishing in the sounds.

It was one such cry that he pursued now. A mournful howl amidst the darkness of the woods. As he followed the sound, he couldn't help wonder why he was making a house call, it was out of his nature—but what was his nature, anyway? He used to know, but that was a different time... and a different place.

At last he stepped through some bushes, meeting a clearing, his red eyes fell on the source of the howls. A brutish, feral looking thing curled up in the center of the glade. It was beast like in appearance, but Whorker counted himself no different when it came to unusual features—he was used to demons of all kinds coming to him for aid, and yet he was the one venturing forward. He'd gone soft in his old age...

Standing over the creature, sobbing as it was, he bent his torso, his legs standing straight, glancing it over with a blank, pitiless expression.

"You don't seem wounded." He surveyed, not actually speaking to it, but more so for his own observations.

It should be noted, however, that the beast was in fact, quite covered in wounds, from head to toe; and yet Whorker could tell the difference from what was normal, and what was dire. This creature was no stranger to punishment, and therefore its cries were not warranted in this regard.

No, this was a mental wound, and Whorker knew just what to do.

But first...

"Do you require my aid?" He asked, standing straight, towering over the distressed heap on the ground. Its mournful and rather angry sounding growls continued on without reply. Probably ignoring him in hopes he'd go away and leave him to his anguish, as was typical demon nature.

Whorker rolled his eyes and took that as a yes.

With the tips of three fingers of his hand, Whorker brushed them over the top of the 'demon's' tanned forehead, letting air escape his lips in a low 'woosh' sound—much like the wind breathing through the trees.

He then crouched down, looking into the bear's eyes as the enchantment calmed its mind and eased its sorrows. Making it forget, or otherwise allowing his mind to justify reason to ignore the pain, whatever it was. The enchantment doing its job at its finest.

Whorker smiled, for the first time since meeting this thing, though it was not a kind smile. He wasn't known for his bedside manners, after all.

"There. All better. See?" The creature looked at him, pissed off as it were, but perhaps there was gratitude behind its angered expression. It was about to speak, perhaps offer a thank you, or some aggressive response? Whorker spoke over him, not caring for these interactions.

"Now," he said abruptly, his eyes resting hungerly upon the demon's pearly teeth, "about my payment..."

Whisper on the Wind

Characters: Lolita, Markus, Ion

Location: A'tenyuu (City of Slayers)

Context: The story of Lolita and Markus, and the demon enchantress that took them as children. Spoken from Lolita's perspective and recollection.

"I want the whole story about Ion.”

Lolita looks stricken, her face curling into disgust. There is a fearsome flash of hatred and anger in her eyes as she hisses, "Where did you hear such a name?"

A pause, and then, "Of course He would blab of her…” as she answers her own question.

"Hardly.”

"Hm, I suppose that is why you're here, then.”

She looks up at her, "Why. Why do you want to know?”

"To better understand Markus and protect him from other demons like this.”

Lolita breathes in with her nose, reciting a rhetoric she knows well and true, “The best way to protect him— to protect all of us, is to end every demon that walks across our path."

She then hangs her head, giving an annoyed sigh, as she relents, and slowly sits down at the table. "I am surprised Markus has garnered the attention of someone who wishes to do good by him in this way… Though, a 'NotWife' I have not heard of such a thing; however, given your relationship with him, I suppose the story should be heard by you, and you alone.”

Lolita straightens up in her chair and places her hands folded on the table. She takes a deep breath and begins.

"I suppose ... We should start at the very beginning— when I was 6, and my brother, Markus was 8.

We had a difficult childhood. In the aftermath of our father returning from the war against the Hunters and the demons that they rode into battle with, things were different than before.

The conflict during that war was vicious, as I have come to learn in my adult years. I know now why our father changed into the violent man he became after the war. Our mother in turn, becoming emotionally distant as she took more beatings for us than she was able to. When she was not present, it would be my brother and I that took those blows.

With such a life, naturally I wanted an escape... I would find myself walking the edge of the woods by our village, tucked away from the world, in our own little bubble. The war had not touched our home, well, not physically at least.

I was young and foolish, I knew nothing of the world, of demons or what the war had even been about. All I'd ever known was my village, nothing more.

And yet one day, I heard a voice in the wind. Someone whispering to me from within the trees, carrying on the very breeze.

I did not know the language the voice spoke, and yet I followed it into the underbrush, just the same.

I followed that voice into a meadow, speckled with the most beautiful white and black flowers I'd ever seen; well, perhaps it wasn't the flowers that I was drawn to, but the woman standing among them, holding one out to me.

I know now, this woman was a demon enchantress. But at the time, all I understood was that I felt safe with her.

I would go to her everyday and talk to her about… well, anything, everything; but especially about my home life. How much our father seemed to hate Markus and I. How much I wanted my mother to stand up to him. That in some ways, I just wanted her to… to—

Lolita pauses, and looks down with a frown, "I was an upset 6 year old... I wanted someone to listen to me, to tell me that my brother and I were going to be okay. So, when this woman — Ion, smiled to me so sweetly and told me that she would make it all better, I felt at ease.

It was only later, after we had parted ways— that I was awoken in the night by my brother, frantic and frightened, pulling me from my bed. I smelt smoke, as the screams of my mother sounded from outside."

Lolita stops for a moment and looks Aura directly in the eyes, "I don't need to explain what was happening outside. Our village, in flames. None were left standing and none were left alive… all but Markus and I.

I still remember his hand gripping tightly into mine as we tried to run with me into the woods, away from the danger. But the danger— Ion, landed in front of us from above, as softly as she had appeared within the meadow where I first met her.

All she needed to do was smile, and my brother and I followed her wherever she went.

Life was strange for a while.

She did not speak to us in our tongue very often. She wanted us to learn Hellspeak— and so we did.

We would do everything for her, from gathering and hunting food for her, cooking for her, bathing her.

I was not a fighter, being so young I knew only how to do the simplest of chores. As the years went on, as we grew— Ion wished to test our abilities— to see what a stronger little human could accomplish as it reached its new heights.

We would go out and steal the finest goods for her. Lavish her in jewellery and finery fit for a queen. We would slit throats and pillage, at the whim of her ever changing desires; and oh, she had her desires.

I believe she was not interested in me, or rather in my gender; but in Markus she had garnered her sights. The more mature he became, the closer their relationship seemed to become.

I saw him change, Aura.

He did not listen to me, he did not protect me as he had once tried to, or give me encouragement when I was most frightened. I thought he must have given up on us, on me. The way he looked at her, it made me sick. His eyes, entirely consumed by this wretched and otherworldly woman; this creature that had taken us from our home, killed our family, destroyed our lives, and treated us as her play things for so many painful years.

She would have him do things, tempt his life. Stand atop great heights, telling him to wrap a rope around his neck and jump.

She always stopped him just as he was at death's door, however. She would cut the rope before he breathed his last breath, finding it fascinating how far she could take his mortal life, before it was gone from her fingertips. Perhaps to see how willing he was to taunt his life for her and her alone.

I learned much later on that her specific type of Love Enchantment only worked on one stronger individual or on two weaker individuals. Which would explain why, as I grew older, she could not influence me as much as before, and she took greater interest in doing so with my brother.

I couldn't talk to him, he would simply just have eyes for her, and any brief interactions I would have with him always turned to her. He could not be without her; and even while she slept, he would get very little himself. Obsessed with simply watching over her, day and night.

It wasn't until I was 17 that I happened across an old book, lost in the underbrush of an old fallen village— not unlike our own.

It read of many things, much of which I could not understand; however, much of the text was written in an old and strange form of hellspeak, that I could decipher little of, from our upbringing with Ion.

It took me time, but I was able to garner the correct tools to carry out one of the hidden spells in this strange tome.”

Lolita gives a tired sigh before continuing.

“She was a hellspawn, as I'm sure you're aware by now: a Raw Soul, with no living body in our realm, that once she would die, she would be sent back to the horrors in which she belonged; but that was not enough, not for me.

I wanted revenge on this woman that had taken everything from me, my brother Markus especially so. I was going to destroy her very soul myself, and this book would help me do it.

I did try to talk with him. One night when we were alone. I begged him to listen, if only briefly.

I asked him to help with the spell, as I was certain I could not accomplish such great and ancient magic alone.

He went to her, as I suspected he might, and I attempted the spell on my own.

She attacked me; but from years of cutting throats for her and dodging attacks from all manner of creatures and people, I was more of a fighter than I’d ever been before.

It was in the moment, at the peak of the spell, that I called out to Markus.

Ion was wounded and viciously trying to gain the upper hand, and she would have had me, had Markus not, in a lapse of Ion’s power, finished the spell for us both.

With our desperate and wild magics combined, we heard an ear piercing shatter, one that I still wake up to the echoes of. We watched as her broken husk disappeared to dust, with the very winds that brought her into my life, all those years ago.”

Lolita pauses for a long time, before swallowing with a hard and shaky breath.

“It took some time for us to gather ourselves after the fight. Drained from magic we had never properly trained.

Markus did not look well, he was as pale as a ghost. He looked ill and sickly; and yet I saw a glimmer of him, within his sunken eyes, that I had not seen in many years. He said my name, and I embraced him.

It was only until the knife was embedded deep within my back, that I realised he was still under some ghostly influence of her enchantment.

I heard him grab the book from the ground beside me, as I lay bleeding out in the grass while night fell. I did not see where he went, but he left me alone to die."

Lolita's eyes narrowed at Aura fiercely, "I didn't."

"It was years after I became a Slayer that I encountered him again; and while it appears he has his mind back, if only somewhat. He is no longer any brother of mine; only by the curse of blood does he claim that right.

I told him that should he show his face to me again, I would kill him… and now the bastard wears a mask.”