sith lord

The first thing I see is darkness, the screeching sound of shifting metal echoes as the wall in front of me rises and light floods in blinding me. At first I just stand there, terrified of the unknown that awaits me ahead, suddenly a shout and a strike of pain in my spine and I'm out the door and face down in sand, I rise slowly taking in everything, I'm lying in an arena of Sand and blood, the Air stinks of death and decay, above savage human looking creatures are screaming for blood, loud ear splitting shrieks of rage echo from the rafters. Across from me there is a giant glass cube in the ceiling and a man standing on the ground below it with his face showing no emotion but his eyes are red, his face dirty and tracks of past tears stain it.

I stand. There is a boom of laughter behind me, I look up to see several large pale man in a separate box from the other savages they wear suits of charcoal and hold glasses of what looks like blood. A clinking of chain draws my eye back to the cube where a group is being forced out, they are malnourished and dirty. they have musical instruments, as soon as they are all in, the cube begins sliding towards the middle, the fat cats laugh away spilling there evil fluid all over their black as pitch cloths their faces are clean all but the teeth red with blood. The clanking stops the cube hangs in the middle of the arena.

The band begins slowly at first but as the tempo increases the man moves first his head, slowly raising it, and cracking his neck rising it to the sky and exhaling loudly like an addict that just got another fix. Then his legs walking at first then running, next his arms pulling a broadsword from behind his back ready to slice me. His face is blank and emotionless as if my life is unimportant in the grand scheme of the arena. His swings are wild, beads of sweat drip down my face the stink of death and sweat is overwhelming but I don’t notice it takes all my energy just to dodge his swings, in perfect beat with the music as if it is the only thing motivating this act of aggression.

The tempo rapidly drops and slows, the song turns mournful, and the man’s swings slow, a steady chant of “kill” rises over the crowd above, saliva dripping from the screaming maws, the man seems completely fine with obliging their whim, fear creeps through me as I realise. I can’t kill him, I don’t have the heart to take this man’s life and he seems fine with taking mine. The dodging continues moving as fast as my body will allow, throwing dirt with every movement, the man’s eyes are focused on me and only me never wavering, never faltering, always hunting me. His tear stained face is painful to watch as he chases me his eyes almost begging me to fight back to finish him. A primal scream from the band throws me off for a moment causing me to trip, I land on my back cracking my head against the bloodstained sand, the man’s broadsword comes flying towards me, not slowing, not caring. I don’t have time to dodge, I prepare for the inevitable. Then the blade stops so close I can smell the blood on it. I lay there for a moment then realise. The music has stopped.

We sit in almost silence, broken only by the savage booing from the crowed as they jump all over each other, staring at each other. He begins to walk back to his starting point, head down still showing no emotion. I just lay there fearing what might be coming next.

“KILL HIM ALREADY, OR ARE YOU TO WEAK?”

The voice echoes all around us in a supernatural sort of way. The man pauses mid step, he turns and points his sword at me but he is not looking at me, he’s looking at the festering wounds of men that put themselves above us, he opens his mouth and makes some sort of tortured noise, as I realise with horror he has no tongue. I stand,

“FINE”

More grating metal sounds as if in punctuation to the single word they uttered. A hole opens in the ceiling, two pieces of wood fall to the ground hitting the sand and sending it flying in all directions. I don’t move at first, I watch the man as he nods to me then continues walking to his spot. I take this as my queue to move closer to the pieces of wood to find that they are... are... tonfa? I’m not certain but I feel like that is what they are called, I feel like I’ve used them before, as if they are a part of me. I give them a spin and feel them as an extension of my arm and I know I’ve held these before. They are completely smooth along the handles but jagged and chipped on the clubs and there is dried blood in the chipped out holes the blood has turned the wood almost black. Black wood blood red streaks ...these are the weapons of a killer. More than that... a torturer... a man who gets enjoyment from his work... I feel dread at the thought of how I know that... I can’t kill the thought of it makes me feel sick but these....these weapons...are they mine?

The band is being forced out and a woman is being pushed in she stares down, not at us below her just ...down. she has the same dirty tear stains as the man who is now staring at her...eyes filled with rage...I can almost feel it flowing through me from across the arena. She stands in the middle of the box loosely griping a microphone, seeming to not see anyone around her. The man watches as the box grates slowly and loudly to the middle, then his focus goes back to the disgusting pigs of men behind me, rage in his eyes ...flooding from his heart.

She slowly raises the mic to her lips and she sings slowly and mournfully. The man’s stare lowers as he exhales deeply less like an addict this time and more …prepared and charges me. He leaps sword at the ready to bring down on my head, I raise the tonfa to guard and close my eyes waiting for the sound of the blade cutting wood....but it doesn’t come. Suddenly a weight hits the tonfa but no metal on wood. I open my eyes slightly to see the man crouched on my arms looking into my eyes with determination....and I know what I must do.

I turn with him still on me and put all the weight I can into my arms and I push him off just as he jumps...directly at the men in the fragile glass house. the girl sings on still staring at nothing without emotion. The man flies towards the window screaming the whole way blade at the ready. The well-dressed corpses hit a button and an alarm sounds. I take in everything so I can to see what to expect.

I see the glass box dragging itself towards the door where it started but now that door has angry looking beasts with blades in their hands and hate in their eyes looking ready to maul this poor girl. I see the roof opening up letting the screaming monsters access to me and the

man. The roof is opening slowly leaving me time to try and save the girl. The door is a ways up, so I run to the wall and notice it’s not smooth...I can climb I put the tonfa on my back in their carrying strap....why do I hav... no, no time must push on.

I climb the wall, the creatures in the door way don’t seem to see me they are to focused on their pray in the glass cube. She begins screaming her sad sad song and I notice the cube is almost to the door. As soon as I reach the door I grab the closest beast and pull him out. I hear him scream with surprise as he drops, the others are surprised long enough for me to throw myself up into his spot pull my tonfa out and begin cracking their heads. I spin with trained ease and aim for vitals like a steady practiced hand and in seconds they are dead and bleeding on the ground…the smell of the blood hits me right away, overwhelming…disgusting.

The singer has stopped screaming now and returned to a normal volume. There is a loud thud as the cube pushes into place and the door opens. The girl looks out shocked to see me standing over 4 corpses as I breathe heavy. I can barely believe it myself. I look past her to see the man jumping out from a hole in the cage the pigs made for themselves. I can’t see into the room very well... because the windows that aren’t broken are red...dark...dark red.

The same colour as my hands... there are tears on my face. I can no longer see the man, my own emotion blocks my sight I can hear nothing but the ringing in my head as shock and fear take over... what have I done...I killed these people, a hand touches my shoulder, stopping my downward emotional spiral and there is the girl I saved, smiling. My fear lowers. Suddenly a voice breaks my concentration.

“FINISH THIS NOW”

It’s an odd voice, it sounds like an unhappy mix of demonic and angelic, it echoes upon the walls reverberating through my mind bringing back my fear, a new fear, of what I’m not certain. I look the girl in the face feeling the fear rise. The smiling girl grabs me by the shirt, I’m so confused I don’t have time to resist as she flings me into the glass case hard enough I smash through it. Time seems to slow down as I crash through the window and fall to the ground, glass swirling around me I hit the sand...no...Not sand...its mud now...red mud...

”STAND UP”

I listen...slowly rising to my feet. I’m surrounded by bodies, mutilated flesh, chunks of bone and appendages thrown across the walls and the ground ...there is no dry dirt in sight. The stink of death is stronger than before it takes all my focus not to vomit. The man....is different, he has one giant red clawed hand over his face, his arm is red...not with blood...but demonic red and he...he has a feathery wing coming from the other side.

“I AM AN ABOMINATION”

He drops his hand and raises his head glaring at me. half his face is red his one eye black but the other is....glowing? It’s hard to tell with the stink of death surrounding me blurring my vision...

“YOU ARE TO BLAME FOR THIS”

What? I stare slack jawed and eyes wide.

“How?”

I ask slowly...almost in a whisper.

“YOUR EXISTSTENCE BREAKS THE BALANCE SO LONG AS YOU EXIST AS YOU DO I AM STUCK LIKE THIS...”

What is he talking about?

“...AND IF I KILL YOU I DIE WITH YOU...”

My mind is racing I don’t know what any of this means.

“WHY COULDNT YOU HAVE JUST STAYED THE DEMON AND LET THE BALANCE REMAIN”

Demon. That word hurts my vision clears the stink is like my fear gone.

“I am NOT a demon”

I say with determination locking eyes with him.

“NOT ANYMORE. YOU’RE NOT NOW YOUR....I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE, BUT ITS WRONG AND NOW IM NOT AN ANGEL IM...IM....AN ABOMINATION”

My eyes stay locked with his I do not pull away from his rage.

“If you were an angel HOW COULD YOU KILL ALL THESE PEOPLE”

Now it’s his turn to stumble... there is fear in his eyes.

“NO...NO THAT’S YOUR FAULT NOT MINE ...YOU ... YOU BROKE THE BALANCE AND MADE ME THIS WAY....IF...IF…”

He is stumbling back now.

“If what? If I had stayed the demon you wouldn’t have killed these people? I don’t know what happened that made me forget what I was but it seems they broke you as much as they did me”

His eyes go wide....

”THEY KILLED HER...THERE IS NOTHING LEFT”

Determination re-enters his eyes, as we lock eyes again he pulls his sword from the torso of a fallen creature and runs at me.

“THERE IS NO REASON FOR ETHER OF US TO EXIST”

I leap back in fear, as I’m jumping I see the girl again throwing my tonfa down, I catch them as fast as I can and block his attack. His attacks are much fiercer then they were before. It’s almost like he wasn’t trying to kill me before.

“I guess they didn’t break you”

He doesn’t slow.

“You broke yourself and gave in to the evil”

He pauses for a moment shock and fear crossing his face. It fades and he screams in anger pressing the attack more and more pushing me back against the wall.

“YOU ARE THE DEMON NOW”

I yell as I let my anger fuel me striking and dodging wildly I’m so focused on him I don’t even notice the grinding metal until parts of the roof begin falling into the arena landing all around us. It stops my anger in its tracks the man ignores it pressing more and more he has only one goal and that is my life.

Sitting up on the ledge in a pool of blood I think over what I’ve done. I threw him down into that pit... because... because he has to right the imbalance it was... the right thing to do ... it had to be. I spot his tonfa on the ground... he doesn’t need them right. He just has to die....then they will both be gone

“THERE IS NO REASON FOR ETHER OF US TO EXIST”

before I realise what I’m doing, I have the tonfa in my hand and I’m throwing them out into the arena, I don’t wait to see what happens with them, I just grab a weapon from a corpse and run down the hall. There is little resists along the way but I cut them down easily. I was trained for this after all trained for quick merciful deaths aim for the brain or heart no wounds only kills. I keep running, not even slowing down to give the men a fair fight not that they would expect a fair fight from me I am a 16 year old girl after all...the men always underestimate me making my job easy…well physically.

I don’t stop Running until I find the room I’m looking for. I break the flimsy metal door to the control room and pull the switch to release the cages, dropping them on the arena, then I’m running again, the whole run there took maybe 2 minutes, I can hear the metal grinding as I make my way to the surface. Those cages should make short work of those two.

The light hits my eyes and blinds me temporarily. As my eyes adjust I look around to see the desert that lured many travelers with rumors of treasure, only to find their minds broken and their bodies locked in cages to do the bidding of those…people.

The swirling sands seemed so...swirling? When I snuck in here years ago there wasn’t a whirlpool of sand here. The whole thing must be caving in on itself. The fools never did plan for sabotage. They were cocky bastards and they died for it.

As the sand spins and lowers I can do nothing but watch in horror...I guess that’s that... they are dead...the abomination killed itself. After several minutes the sand settles and I just stand there watching.

The metal is collapsing around me, streams of sand seem to follow in the holes the metal chunks make. But the man is unwavered in his hate of me and his need to kill me. I use the falling debris to put space between us as I try and figure out a way to escape. How he has managed to not get hit is unimaginable. rocks and metal are falling crushing what little remained of the corpses on the ground, blood splattering everywhere I take my eyes off my foe for a moment to look up as sunlight breaks through the roof and I know what I must do.

An arm explodes out of the sand grabbing at anything it can reach; it is soaked in blood and covered in wounds, it finds a piece of metal and pulls. I watch in horror as the demon pops out of the ground gasping for air. The demon I had been hunting all these years, or so the coin man told me. After he gets entirely out of the ground he flops on his back and begins laughing. There is only one way to deal with this...I jump on him my blade at his throat... I look him in the eyes to see the ...evil? No, there is no evil ... just fear... he’s terrified ... demons don’t feel fear.

“Please don’t kill me”

...demons don’t beg ether I learned that the hard way.

”what are you”

I ask ... he stares at me confused tears stain his face and he stinks of rotting flesh in the hot sun.

“I don’t know”

What did they do to him in there…?

“If you’re alive then that means the angel is to... or at least what used to be the angel”

If he is the demon then that is true I rise blade ready to fight it until my death. The demon stands.

“Nope he’s dead”

What? Could that be true?

“That’s not possible the balance demands you both alive or both dead”

I get right in his face glaring up at him. He stumbles back... not demon like not at all.

“Well I saw him die”

“I don’t believe you”

I advance on him more. More stumbling on his part after a moment he finally pushes thru his obvious fear and says.

“Well first a chunk of rock broke his leg he screamed rather loudly but that stopped when the next rock turned his skull into a puddle”

What? Could the coin man have lied?

“But...how can you exist”

my legs are weak none of this makes sense I fall on my back and stare at the sky trying to think of what to do next... nothing comes to mind this whole mission was a waste of time I accomplished nothing

“Are you ok?”

The demon looks down at me hand outstretched.

“Do you think we can get out of here? I don’t know where I am and…could you please help me find… home?”

Toby had seen it all from outside the window, as his lord sent the six of them on the quest, saw as he told them that they were the chosen few sent on an important mission. But why wasn't Toby chosen? Wasn't he the best at what they were to do? Toby gave away all money and food to the needy. Toby helped the helpless and saved those who needed saving. He was a good person through and through.

He never asked for recognition, and now he wasn't getting any.

But why not? Why wasn't Toby sent with them? Toby was a good person. The best person. Toby deserved to go more than Anthony the brutal, or Jeremy the lazy, or, or Malcolm the whore. Toby knew what he must do. He, yes he, would follow them and when they needed aid, which they surely would, then Toby would help. He would jump out and save them then.

Then Toby would get the recognition he deserved – but, but Toby doesn't need the recognition. No. No, he never needed recognition, but he – yes he deserves it, that's it.

Toby watches as they leave the church and head on their journey to the island of bad people, but, Toby also follows quietly behind – not that he needs to be quiet with Jeremy complaining so loudly. He is slowing them down, he is making the quest take longer. How is Toby to save them when they aren't moving fast enough to be put in danger?

 No, no, no, this just won't do, won't do at all.

But Toby knew what he had to do. He knew what had to be done that night as they all slept. Malcolm was on watch and too much of a coward to tell Jeremy it was his shift to watch, so Toby snuck up into Jeremy's tent and was ready to make him disappear into the night. No one would know. No one would notice – a hand clasped his mouth.

 "Toby my boy, I hope you intend on silence. If so, nod and I’ll release you." a voice whispered to Toby.

Toby nodded hastily and was released as promised. He turned to find Timothy standing behind him, Timothy the kind, the only prophet on the journey worthy of note, he is.

"So Toby, what might you be doing here?"

What was Toby doing ... oh yes, "Toby is here to help you, I heard about the journey you are on, saw the company you keep, and knew I had to help in any way I could." Toby couldn't see it, but Timothy held a sly smile, "well Toby, what were you doing in Jeremy's tent just now? More helping?"  It was helping wasn't it? When a sheep can't keep with the heard it is slaughtered, right?

"Ye....yes?" 

Timothy seemed displeased with this answer. "’Yes?’ Don't you know? If it’s ‘yes’, why are you asking?" Toby puffed up his chest for he knew that he was in the right now, "yes." he said with conviction, and Timothy smiled. "I'm glad to hear it! Now, how did you intend to help when you have no weapon?" He tossed Toby and knife, "now be quick about it. No one will wake, I made sure of it." Toby grinned and moved into the tent.

"Oi! What you doin' in my tent?!"

Then Toby stabbed him in the ribs. But Jeremy fought, he didn't want to be purged, to be cleansed. He didn't see his weakness, he thought he was better than Toby, he kept fighting.  Jeremy got free and ran out of the tent, blood dripping everywhere. Toby stood to find Timothy sitting on a stump in camp, his head on his hand looking bored. "Well? Go get him. Make sure he doesn't see day break or the mission is a failure and you didn't help at all."

No, no, no, that just wouldn't do, Toby had to help, he had to fix everything, he had to save the quest, save them, he had to kill Jeremy, Jeremy thinks he is better than Toby, it's the only way. Toby chased after Jeremy and found him on the ground, there was blood on a nearby tree –  he obviously ran into a tree.

 "Whose clever now Jeremy?  You are just an idiot and Toby is a genius." That showed him, now to silence him. Toby stabbed him again and again, not stopping for several minutes, laughing the whole time.  He leaned down to Jeremy, "and now you're not better than me."

There was a blinding flash of light making Toby drop the knife and Jeremy’s bloody body.

 "Toby, what have you done?" That voice, what was that voice? Toby couldn't remember. "You fool, why would you kill him? It wasn't his time yet! He didn't get punished and now – now you will take his place. I'm sorry my son, I thought you were salvageable but, goodbye Toby."

We traveled together for a day, all six of us. David was happy to be out and about, the old fool Anthony wanted glory from combat, the young fool Malcolm wanted to be loved, the poor fool timothy seemed to just be there to help, but your story tells a pretty dark tale of him. I don't know what to think of him, but he seemed the smartest of us all. Then there was me, Derek the Fat, the Hungry the fattest of fools. But since this book is only being used to record how we left this world I will use this space to tell you what I know of what happened to Jeremy the Tiresome, another fool.

Now as I said we had traveled for a day. I'm leaving this book where we made camp that night and where I last saw Jeremy. From what I remember we had just been sent on our quest, no more than a few hours out the door, and Jeremy was complaining about foot aches, and muscle aches, and hunger, and all other unimportant things. To be honest, upon his disappearance we were all glad to be rid of him. Timothy took no notice, and Malcolm was silent for a few days to come, but otherwise we didn't care at all.

We had made camp after we had had enough of listening to the complaining.  We made some stew for dinner, and I ate well over my fair share, shameful but true. Jeremy went to sleep right after we ate. He slept through his watch so Malcolm picked up the slack for him but, none of us can stay up indefinitely without sleep. He fell asleep. Poor lad was devastated when he learned what had happened. We found Jeremy's tent ripped open and blood staining the inside. What took him, none of us could tell. Whatever it was, we all doubted that he could have lived through it. Why it had targeted just him when all of us were also very viable targets, I hope I never learn. I wish I could add more but that's all I know on his disappearance.

"Oi what you doin' in my tent!" Derek exclaimed as a shadowed figure entered, blade in one hand. Before Derek could fight back the man was on him, stabbing wildly, mad with rage and commitment, as if he wanted nothing more in his life than to see Derek dead. Derek fought him off as best he could, and was stabbed in the ribs for the trouble.

He was wounded, his tent was ruined, and he was running into the woods, but Derek was never good at running, it was always so much work for too little a pay, but now there was pay, his life was on the line. His vision blurred, he was losing blood fast, and he could barely see. He wasn’t sure when he stopped, but he found himself on his back and his head hurt.  He had probably hit a tree.  Blood was everywhere. It made him vomit so loudly that he didn’t hear the foot steps behind him. He didn’t hear the knife. But just before it hits his neck he let out a weak scream, not enough to be heard.

After Derek hit the ground his body goes numb, he can't feel any pain but he is loosely aware that his attacker is still stabbing him savagely. Derek manages to get out a weak “help”, but all that comes out is “he-“ before his throat is cut. He can hear laughter as he is rolled over and the last words he hears are: "Now that's what you deserve because you're not better than me and you never will be."

Before me is a record of those who went further. How it took so long to come to me, I'm unaware.  Seeing as I am the second to leave the group, I was not aware of what happened to my brothers Timothy, David, Tony, and of course, Malcolm, until finding this record now. I will write what I can recall in the time that remains.

 We were sent on a mission by our lord, our god. We were sent to an island where, rumor said, demon worship had spiked and townspeople had begun to be more than just simple warmongering recluses. They were warriors, or so we were told. I never reached the island. Why you are here, I may never learn. I am repentant for what I've done, but knowing what I've done I know that repentance is no longer enough.  I am no hooded sparrow robbing the rich and giving to –well you know the tales. I'm a fool who emptied the plates of the starving so that I could fill my own shrinking stomach.

 I sit in a stone cell now, as I have for almost two years at this point. Reading your book I see that our team failed, that our sins got the better of us, that the world was too much for us to handle.  For me to handle.

Let me start again. I will only tell you the tale of me, for I am still not certain what happened to the one before me.  I hope you can find why these things have occurred.

As we entered the town I had a repulsive smile covering my face.  I looked over every man, woman, and child, and all I could think was how pathetic they were for not having enough to feed themselves right, and how it must be because they hadn't found our lord. Obviously, they had chosen their worship wrong and it was my duty, and right, to guide them on the right path. How sickening I was, how vile I am. As I walked the streets I looked for any vendor I could find. The variety of goods sold in a town tells you what type of town it is. Or so I thought.  What you really learn are the habits of the buyers. I told them who I was, how I was, and how to beat me.

The rest of our troupe moved on not long after our arrival. Timothy left without a word before the others, and the rest followed. David left for duty, Tony for glory, and Malcolm, well sweet Malcolm left for Tony. Poor fool, I wish he hadn't died, he hadn't deserved to die like that, or at all.

Anyhow, as I walked from vendor to vendor all I found were trinkets and knick knacks, nothing of worth, and not a single morsel of food. Until I found a vendor that sold food like few others. They served like a tavern, but made you pay immediately after. Immediately.  It's funny really, I used to gobble down all food put in front of me, which is exactly why I'm here. No demon to drown me, or beat me, nor is there a demon worshiper silencing me to defend his home. There isn’t a supernatural twin seeking revenge. Just a debt. Just a fool who ate too much and expected a lot more then he should.

"As a servant of the lord, all this food is free, I assume."

I watched as Timothy had reached the town. He came a few days before the others and he spent most of his time looting house in secret, stealing everything that was worth more than a double dragon. No one knew how he did it, or that he was even doing it, so was so good.

He secretly got a tavern room under cover of darkness after the first day town. The inn keeper said he was a tall man, with dark skin and very bright eyes – follow timothy looks nothing like that. The inn keeper is also blind.

In the room Timothy builds a complete and detailed model of the town and of each person living there out of the valuables, the things he has stolen.  Then he pulls a small doll out of his pack and slices it into little pieces, making two identical models.  They look kind of like him. As I was looking at them it kind of looked like he saw me, but that's not possible.  This is only a memory from two years ago. I'm not here.

 Timothy doesn't sleep after finishing the model. He goes to the place where the dolls are sitting and stands there. He doesn't move for a full day, but as I walk into his field of vision his eyes move to me as if, as if he doesn't see through me like everyone else does.  

"Yes Empathy, I can see you. Since I have a few hours before it is time, perhaps you can tell me of the future I will not see"

I am stunned and silenced. Not only does he see me but, he is actually speaking to me, as if he knows things he couldn't.

"I know those things because I'm in your mind. I had decided a long time ago it was time to end this deal, but seeing your memories now, I know for a fact that it is time...for I had already known"

"If...if you had already known then what would you want to speak about? Since you already know all I have to know of the future…" I said, frightened slightly.  He smiled at me and sat cross legged in the grass he had built.  "Very true, but perhaps, since you are recording all there is to know of these traveling prophets, you would like to know the whole truth of Timothy the selfless? How he was born a twin? Or how his twin was sold?" He stopped there, grinning, knowing he had my attention.

"I thought as much. I guess I will begin with when we were born, Timothy and I, the nameless other. We were born to a poor family in a poor town that considered anything different to be evil. Identical twins were incredibly rare in that town, no one had ever given birth to any before. Now my mother didn't care, so loved us both, as mothers do. She even named me, although I’ve since forgotten it. But my brother, he preferred my father’s approach: burying me in the cellar, never speaking of me to others, using me when needed.

“Then one day my brother took that a little too far, and at the age of roughly eleven he got the bright idea that if he sold my soul to a demon then he could get the rewards from it, because we were just the same enough for him to be rewarded and just different enough that he won't be punished. What a fool he was. So he summoned this demon from the pits of Hell at a crossroads, pulling me behind him on a leash, for I was weak and malnourished and treated like an animal. He kicked me down in front of the demon and said that I was his to use for the price of all the wealth my brother could ever have.

“Now the demon took to this deal far faster than Tim or I had ever expected, he was almost eager to have me. At the time I was unaware, I, like you, was an empath, and that in the hands of a demon empaths can have great power. We can walk through walls, go unseen by even the most watchful, we can see ethereal beings such as yourself, and of course, we can read minds. After 20 years of training with the demon I was able to do all this with great skill.

 “Now my brother, being the fool he was, took his new found wealth home. Father took most of it, but mother wasn’t interested in it, she just begged to know where I was. When she was told, she argued that they had to undo the deal – that was when father killed her. And timothy just laughed. Timothy the Selfless did nothing while I spent years enduring brutal training.

He eventually had his infinite wealth stolen from him, so he went back to the crossroads, destitute and angry, feeling this was somehow the demon’s fault. He summoned the demon again and explained what had happened. The demon put on a show of being heartbroken by such a loss – he actually shed a tear for this fool who dared to question someone so much more powerful. Then Timothy made the demon an offer. He suggested that because he hadn't received the wealth he was promised, that perhaps he should get me back.

“Now this was intriguing because we both knew he had no need for me so what was the game? Being the mind reader I was, I knew he thought that since the demon took to the plan years ago, maybe he would be willing to give him all the wealth again to keep me. But instead the demon brought me up from the pits of Demca, a smile on my face and revenge in my heart. The demon sealed the deal and told Timmy he had 48 hours to run, and then he would get his brother back, and return the love he had dished out as a child. He ran, of course straight to a church, and took refuge there for five long years. He seemed to forget why he hid, or perhaps he knows what the demon taught me ...

“That model – I'm going to seal my brother and I into it. I almost didn't want revenge. I saw him in that church I couldn't enter. I saw so many people there, even you. You were younger. You have a good future ahead of you – don't forget it.

“But now you must flee, because after Tim gets here all time in this corner will be sealed, and I don't want you trapped here. Go."

I didn't know what to say. “I have a name for you, if you would like"

He looked at me curiously "Oh?"

With tears on my face I said "Jamie." I could explain why, but I could see in his eyes he knew why. He could read my mind after all, and he knew what that name meant to me and why I chose it. And now I would be leaving another of that name to die, but this one I couldn't save, couldn't I?

"No, you can't Kristen, now run for your own safety. Run – you will be trapped here in ethereal form if you don't leave now...”

"Well boy? Speak up, who is it you worship?" Anthony stared at the boy. He was 10 at the most and here Tony was treating him like some demon worshiper. Tony was always so angry.

 "Tony, calm down, I'm sure the boy will learn the proper path in time – " I didn't even finish the sentence before Tony struck him across the face. I winced, but they boy seemed unfazed and took off running, leaving the tavern as fast as he could.

"In time? BAH it is our duty to put people on the path that they must walk. The path, which of course, is our path the path of...of...our lord." Anthony looked confused for a second, I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong but before I could we were....interrupted.  

"Sir, SIR!" 

A man charged into the tavern,  he was dirty like a farmer but.. still cute,  in a sort of rugged way. He barged in screaming, "the boy sir...he has run for the woods!" Tony looked at him perplexed.  I couldn't put my figure on it but something was wrong.

 "What's in the forest?" Tony asked. His face said he wanted a repeat of the statement but that can't be true, he could only mean the boy for just minutes ago … why was Tony so forgetful? I was about to ask when the burly farmer cut me off once more. "There's a demon temple in the forest sir.  There's an old legend in these parts that a rage demon was sealed in his temple unable to inflict pain on most any who come calling. It’s a great honor it is to go and beat on a rage demon, wouldn't you say?"  Yes, Tony would say ....what was this game you play…

 "A DEMON IN THE WOODS... "

Oh no. He was gone now, mentally dead, cut off, removed entirely from rational thinking. "....WELL WE BEST HUNT DOWN THIS DEMON WORSHIPER AND KILL HIM AND THE DEMON THAT RULES HIM WHO WILL RIDE WITH ME."  Oh Zevex, what are you doing Tony? He's a boy! If only I could say it aloud, but you can't argue with him at this point – it’s sad really.

 "Tony wait..."

He gave me the darkest look then ...darker than I've seen before, but there was also confusion ....like he had forgotten me but ....after everything we had....how could he forget...

"Silence knave, a prophet has work to do." A knife. That's what those words felt like, cutting me deep...maybe I'll just tell his wife...

"COME  WARRIORS WE HAVE WORK TO DO" He left the tavern, with most of the by-standing men in tow, out into the jungle to face some demon, and I'm left here alone.

"Hello sir, what are you doing down there?"  The man was tall, with deep blue eyes and messy black hair.  He was shirtless with the chest of a blacksmith and the arms to follow.  I was so caught off guard by his appearance that I hadn't realized I was on the floor. I must have collapsed when I was watching Tony leave me.

"Please, let me help you up." He lowered his hand to help me stand. "Than....thank you .. um...sir?" I asked tentatively. "Oh ,sorry my name is Lachlan. What’s yours?"  His face was full of compassion, like he genuinely wanted to know, not so he could use me, not so he could get what he needed from me, but because he wanted to know me for me.  I opened my mouth to reply but I couldn't recall my name or where I came from. "I don't know I was....sent...here...with Tony...but why...by who?"  I couldn't seem to recall anything before the telling of this tale, and I still don't.  

"Whoa, whoa, calm down there friend. Maybe those memories are lost for a reason. You shouldn’t push yourself." He smiled and I felt calm. I felt safe for the first time in... I don't know how long...."Thank you Lachlan. Why didn't you leave with the rest of the men?" His face grew darker. "Leave to chase down a young boy who has done nothing, with a mad shepherd and his bloodthirsty flock? I'd rather not.  I have a smithy to run and a friend in need." He looked at me with a look that conveyed immense trust.

"Well do you think it's true? That the boy is a demon worshiper?" 

The man lowered his head his long hair blocking my view of his eyes.  "A starving man goes through a market and steals an apple. The guards give chance, only to find a sickly boy holding the apple and the man standing between... should the guards punish the boy? Should they punish the man? Do you believe all rules should be followed to the letter, no matter the circumstance?"

 The last question caught me off guard and I was unable to answer for a moment but then I knew the truth.  "No, they should not be punished for doing what they needed to survive, so long as it's not hurting anyone else, there isn’t a problem" 

Lachlan hugged me then I hugged him back. It wasn't the hug I wanted. It was a hug of friendship – but a friend with compassion is better than an enemy filled with lust. "Um...thank you for the hug, but may I ask why?" He had separated from me with a grin.  "Thank you for not persecuting my choices" he said.  I was taken aback.  I didn't know how to reply, or how to react.

 "YOU’RE A DEMON WORSHIPER?" I screamed with fear as I fell back, bashing my head on a table.

"Did you not understand my question before? My boy was dying. He was in pain, and there was little I could do, so I went to the temple in the woods, and he helped me now my boy and I feel no pain but any who harm us will be hunted down by the demon in the woods and dealt with. That was the deal. My son gets to live and I live with him, but as followers.  We have to send any who harm us to him because he needs to punish them, but he's been locked away. You have to understand, he's not evil he is just born from evil.  The child of a killer is not a killer, he may know how to kill but that doesn't mean he will his only crime was being born of Hell!" He was screaming now and crying.  I couldn't hurt this man ....I couldn't take his boy ...I couldn't argue with his logic, he was right after all what he was saying made perfect sense and...I couldn't leave here, I had to protect them...and any who would try to harm them.  I couldn't let any more Anthony's happen...oh no.

"OH ZEVEX TONY! WHERE IS TONY! HE’S GOING TO DIE IF WE DONT DO SOMETHING!" I ran from the tavern into the woods following the trail of footprints as they went deeper and deeper into the dense woods.  I was running for 10 minutes before I was winded and had to slow down.  It was then that I noticed the number of people walking this trail had decreased, as if people had left the group.  Now there were only 7 where there once stood 20...what happened to the others, I didn't know.

I followed on and after almost half an hour I came across the first body.  His throat was slit, his eyes rolled back, and his hands were missing.  Following the footsteps for about 20 minutes more the trail had dwindled down to 2 people alone for an hour. That's when I found the boy. His neck was broken, his legs crushed, and his ribs smashed. He was a mess.  Tony had clearly lost it on him, but as to why the boy killed the rest of the men, I'm unaware. As much as I wanted to go after Tony, seeing the boy in this condition I realized that Tony deserved whatever we was getting. Strangely, looking further into the tree line, it seemed as if the forest changed drastically ahead, into more of a jungle… but that doesn't make any sense.  I wanted to explore it further but it was more important to bring this boy back to his father.

I ripped the bottom of my robes and banged up what I could, covering over gashes and cuts, stopping bleeding where I could.  After I ran out of fabric I picked him up in my arms and carried him back to the town.  It was a longer walk back because of the boy in my arms but I didn't stop, and I didn't slow.  I needed to believe that this boy could be saved, even if Tony could not.  Upon reaching the town I found the blacksmith standing in front of the trail with 15 of the men who had left with Tony. And that's when I started to realize what had happened.

They had left him. They weren't leaving with him to kill the boy, they were leading him to the temple, ensuring he got what he deserved.  Lachlan looked at me with eyes full of compassion and sorrow, but the other men holding pitchforks and torches had eyes filled with rage.

 "I brought the boy back..... is there any way we can help him? Heal and save him?" Something solid hit me in the back of the head and the world went black.  The last thing I saw was Lachlan holding his boy, who was standing now perfectly fine with no blood or broken bones, and yet Lachlan was still crying. And, then darkness.

I awoke to find myself tied to a chair in what appeared to be a basement, and a dark basement at that. It was hard to see anything, but when my eyes adjusted I saw a man sitting across from me.  His hands were not bound and he seemed to be sleeping. I thought he might be a guard. Perhaps an ineffective one though. I made an attempt to undo the binds on my arms, but the moment I started moving so too did the guard.  I froze. He rose, walked over to me, cut me free, and then sat himself back in the chair. I sat there, still frozen. What was I supposed to do? Was I not a prisoner?

 "Well? You’re untied. Now what?"  The man maintained eye contact with me and it was then that I realized it was Lachlan. "Lachlan? What...what is going on? What did I do wrong?" He dropped his head in defeat, as if my words stung him in some way.  "You learned, now you must choose".

"Choose what? To forsake my faith or die? Are those my options? WELL THOSE ARN’T OPTIONS I CAN CHOOSE! NO MORE THAN YOU CAN CHOOSE ANYTHING OVER YOUR SON!" I don't know when I stood but I was screaming down on him now.

"I know, I'm not forcing that choice on you but......" even in the darkness the sadness was evident." But people don't feel safe."

 I was taken aback. Never have I made someone feel unsafe. I was always just the quiet little queer child that no one ever took notice of, that no one cared for."How am I unsafe to them?"

He looked up, at me his eyes bloodshot. Maybe he hadn't been sleeping like I thought.  "You must choose." There is was again. Why is he pushing this so hard, it’s aggravating.

"ARN’T YOU LISTENING, I CHOSE NETHER."  Lachlan stood. "Then I have to choose for you." He hugged me, well, at least it felt like a hug at first. Then I felt the blade slice open my stomach, straight up to my throat. As I collapsed to the floor into a pool of my own blood I saw Lachlan's face. He looked sad, but not regretful.  Then total darkness.

"Blast this jungle!"   A large man of roughly 6 foot,  4 inches chopped through vines with his machete as he trekked through the jungle.  The man was alone, how long he had been alone he couldn't recall. It was odd for him. Before this jungle all he could recall was a small town. He had found a non-believer there but he showed him the way of god the only way he knew how. But now he was alone in the jungle. This god forsaken jungle. This evil jungle. Soon he would reach his goal though, soon he would reach the Temple of Pain, the once great temple of one of the old demon lords. That is where he could do it. That is where he could prove his commitment to the lord by destroying an old non-believer’s temple, and removing the lord that they served, that would be the best proof. No one would argue his devotion then, not even David with all his pride.

   Wait, who is David?

  The man couldn't recall anymore. He felt a need to push on though, through the jungle, he mustn't stop, he was almost there .  He walked on for several more hours, getting increasingly angry at the jungle. The vile jungle that seemed to hold him back from his honor, from what he deserved. Then he found it – the Temple of Pain. From outside he could see that the roof was caved in and it was quite possible that at least two of the walls had fallen down, yet, somehow the several hundred tonne front door was still standing, as were the four great pillars that held a small roof over the front door. The roof was gone, the rock was cracked, and vines wrapped around it tightly.  It looked like the vines had spent hundreds of years covering the building, but not a one touched the door. The man walked around the building to find that every wall was in fact gone. There was rubble on the jungle floor but the rubble was high enough that the man could not see inside, and too dangerous to attempt climbing, so he returned to the door.

  He stood facing the door for several minutes deeply breathing, preparing himself for whatever remained inside. Upon opening the door he found himself very unprepared. Inside the room the walls stood tall and strong. There were neither cracks nor chips, nor marks of any kind. They were as perfect as the day they were built. The walls and floor were the same hue of red. It was difficult to tell if it was paint or if it was the simple the color of the bricks. The room was large, there were no doors, but there were flames that circled the room. Along the edge of the room flush to the walls was a much lower wall of cool, almost cold, fire.

  For the first time in years the man felt fear. Yet still he stepped slowly into the room. When he had finally entered the room entirely, the door slammed closed behind him, loudly, terrifying the man, sending fright like no other through his spine, freezing him in place.  As he stood there frozen he watched as the fire directly across from him worked its way into the room toward the center.  The flame from the back wall seemed to slowly roll to the middle, but no trail was left. Nothing new burned.  The fire formed a ball in the center of the temple. The ball of fire floated in the middle of the room rising a few centimeters from the ground. Slowly the sides of the ball smoothed out, no longer looking like flame but rather like a large red and orange crystal, perfectly smooth with the fire reflecting on it. The process had taken several minutes and by the time it had stopped the man had regained his courage. He no longer felt frozen with fear, but determined to stand for his lord, ready to defeat whatever creature came from that orb.

  The man walked forward looking closely at the orb. Oddly, it gave off no heat. He slowly lowered his hand toward it, closer and closer, yet still feeling no heat. When his hand touched the orb a booming voice sounded throughout the room, echoing not only in the room but also in his mind. 

  "Ahh, another feeble mortal come to test his metal."  The orb began to heat up, now burning the prophet, but he was unable to remove his hand and unable to scream. His palm felt like it was being melted but still he couldn't move. "What's this? Not a fool hardy young man come to serve me in hopes of power? Hmm. No, you want power but – oh my, not even you remember why you're here."  The voice started laughing now, but the man managed a few words, difficult to hear with his inability to move, and the searing pain in his hand. "Pardon sir? Repeat."

  The man did. "You can't hurt me.... those are the rules you ....you were sealed... you can only hurt people...people who attack you or your followers."

  The voice laughed again. The laugh sent chills through his spine. "You are indeed correct." The man was blasted back against the door.  He could hear his skull hit the door before the world went black.

  He didn't know how long he was unconscious for but when he awoke he found himself standing in front of the door. When he looked up he saw, standing in the middle of the room, was a women. She wasn't very tall, 5 feet at most, and thin, almost sickly. She had a black eye and a swollen lip. Then the voice boomed in his head again, "you were correct, and if you had followed that rule, then upon opening that door you would have found rubble. Yet here you stand facing, someone who would like very much to talk to you." The little girl smiled. "Do you think to frighten me with a child?" The man was angry now, he held no fear, only rage. "Oh honey,  if only you read your books." She was walking towards him now. He stood glaring at her, rage building in his mind his hands clenched into fists. When she finally got to him she stood staring up at him, unblinking and still smiling.

  "Step back woman!" He raised his fist and swung at her. Upon hitting the girl he heard the snap of bones and a crunch as they broke their way through flesh. Then he felt the pain. He dropped to his knees and looked to see his hand dripping with blood, bones forcing their way out of his knuckles.  The girl looked down at him now, still smiling with a single drop of blood rolling its way down her cheek from where he had touched her, but she had no marks. She leaned down, "if only you had truly learned."  She placed a hand on his face and kissed his forehead but instead of warmth and comfort he only felt pain. The pain of several punches hitting his head, the pain of both his arms being broken, the pain of ribs being cracked. The woman stepped back and the man fell forward and began vomiting blood. He emptied more blood then he had seen in his life, or as best as he could remember.

  Where was he? He was in pain. Yes, that's right, no jungle, no town, no mission, just pain. He looked up to see the woman still standing there. His pain was gone his hand was healed. He felt fine. He stood once more and the girl stared at him, her smile slowly fading.  "Time for another lesson." She took a step back and seemed to grow about six inches, her black eye faded, her swollen lip lost its swell, then her face changed entirely until standing before him was a different women, an older one. Her face was stern, "well, have you learned your lesson?" The women stated, staring up at him yet somehow, he felt that she was staring down at him. She raised her hand to the side, as if preparing to slap him across the face. "Well? Will you talk back to me again, or have you learned your place woman?" He stared at her dumfounded, then the hand struck him. As it made contact with his face his knees almost exploded with pain. He could feel the bones shattering. His elbows did the same, then his hands, followed by all of his ribs, one after another.

He dropped to his knees once more which only caused more pain, and made him collapse entirely on to his side again, vomiting blood, even more than last time. "Well that should be the end of that dear."  She stepped back once more revealing a young boy. He could not have been more than ten years old. "Well boy? Have you accepted the lord into your life?"

  The man stood slowly to find himself healed once more. The boy spoke again.

"Look to me my people.  I am a demon, but I do not wish harm on any of you. There are plenty of men who are capable of that.  You hear tales of demons being evil and vile and other unimaginable things but I’ll have you know, being a demon is what was given me at birth. I however chose to forsake that for the benefit of humanity.  There are some amongst you that most would consider vile and evil but you're not. You only want to do what you see as right. You do not wish for war, you just want to live in peace and I can help you live forever in peace, all you have to do is stay in this town forever. And any who harm you will be sent to me."

The offer from the anger demon seemed far too good to be true. He says he can protect us but he just wants us as pets – I must say something.  "Now I may be just a humble blacksmith, but this all seems too much like a trap to me, a reason to sell our souls to a demon so that the next time he needs an army we can't refuse, no matter how much we don't want to be involved."

 "No, no, no, I have no interest in war any more then you do, and I can bring peace to your little town. To make it more apparent to you, I will give you all eternal life. I will save all of you from pain, and all I ask is that you send any who try to do you harm to me, to my temple in the forest."

 "AS I WAS SAYING, you will find no servants here beast, nor any fools willing to fall for your schemes. All who live here be free men, and free men they shall stay." The demon’s mouth remained open for a few seconds before he dropped his head in sadness and walked away.

 "I'm sorry to have bothered you then, but remember if ever any of you change your mind, my temple is in the forest. Only those who seek my help may enter." Lachlan knew where the temple was, as did everyone in the town but no one intended to go and see it. Lachlan had a son and wife to protect after all – they all had wives to protect.

Days went by in the quiet little town full of quiet little families in their quiet little houses.  No one ever bothered them because they were hidden from maps and the forest sheltered them from the road. They were ok with their isolation,  but, these strangers weren't on the road. They were patrolling the wood, watching the road in secret, looking for traveling vendors to slaughter and pillage. What they found instead was a little town that no one would miss or aid. Such a wonderful gift to a thief or murderer. There were only 6 of them against a town of many more, but they had night, they had surprise, and most importantly, they knew what they were doing.  They went house to house killing most in their beds.  They had killed much of the town's population before anyone had awoken, but there was a boy in the town, a blacksmiths boy who was a light sleeper and who liked to wonder the town at night. He saw the men and watched as one cut the throat of the inn keeper, smiling from ear to ear as he did it. The boy screamed, unable to restrain his fear.

The blacksmith, being the protective father he is, knew straight away whose voice that was and was out of bed in seconds. His wife was a very heavy sleeper and he didn't take the time to check if she was there.  He was too intent on protecting his son. He grabbed his hammer and ran outside.  What he found outside was horrific.  He discovered 3 men, none of which he knew, all of whom were holding blood covered blades, standing over his son. His son was silent.

 Now a lot of things will be remembered by the townsfolk in this town on this day, one is the fact that the murderers didn't kill any of the wives – they kidnapped them instead.  Second is just how many of them the strangers had caught. The final thing, the thing that they will all remember until the day they die, is the scream that came from the blacksmith. It was not a scream of fear, or of sadness, but of rage. He went into such an uncontrollable rage. He turned the first man he caught into putty, crushing him and not stopping hitting until he noticed the second man attempting to escape.  By this point he had regained some of his brain, and so he only knocked this one unconscious, then he went on to find any more in other areas of the town. Lachlan could he only find 3 in total, disregarding the puddle of a man who laid beside his son. With tears running down his face, he addressed what remained of the town.  "They took our wives, they killed our kin and my son.  We have some of them here now, we could kill them, torture them, or do any unimaginable things to them, OR we could take them to the demon and find a fair deal, where we end with the upper hand.  Who’s with me?"

Though most of the town was dead, those who remained agreed whole heartedly with handing the filth over to the demon, so together with the bodies of loved ones and the thieves, they walked to the temple. Sitting on the door step was the demon, peeling an apple. He looked up in surprise to see all these people coming toward him, but upon seeing the boy he knew what needed to be done. He dropped his apple and knife, opened the door to the temple, and hurried everyone in. 

Inside the temple was very large. There were tables and chairs, and what seemed to be a library. The demon cleaned off a table and had the boy laid out on it. The demon spent hours checking his wounds, and not saying a word as Lachlan explained what had happened to the town.  The demon only nodded. Finally he stopped examining the boy and sat down, his head in his hands. "I'm sorry sir, but I cannot heal him. He is dead." Lachlan began crying and the thieves stirred uneasily. "Is there nothing that can be done?" The demon looked pained, but nodded. "There is one thing, but this plan has rules." Lachlan was confused.  What plan? What rules? None of that mattered, so long as he had his boy back. “Whatever it takes.”  

The demon nodded. "The rules are simple. I will be forever locked in my temple, channeling a bubble around your town. After every 48 hours your town will be transported somewhere in time and anyone within the city limits will be transported with it. When within the city limits you will all be invulnerable. No one will be able to harm you and if anyone tries, I want them brought to me, and I will deal with them as I see fit. If anyone is transported with you have to make sure they don't leave. It could cause terrible consciousness.  You must do whatever it takes to keep everyone who enters the town, in the town. Be warned. If you all want to live, you all must stay forever in that town. I'll give you 12 hours to decide, and all who agree will stay in the town, while those who don't agree to the deal are free to leave.  I do however promise that all of your dead within the city limits will return to you as if nothing has happened."

The demon disappeared before Lachlan could reply, and the 3 thieves were also gone. Where ever they were, he doubted they were enjoying themselves, so he scooped up his son and walked back to town and laid his son in his bed.

“Are you lost?” The feeble prophet demanded. “Oh I’m never lost, for it is your faith in the lord that guides me to our goal" The prophet though old and knowledgeable assumed the guide correct, butthe guide dare not show he’s cunning grin. "If the faith is right sire we will be there in a matter of hours" The guide stated. Over his shoulder the prophet was unable to see his face due the length of hair covering it and the hunch the man had. The prophet didn’t trust this man anymore then he trusted Satan himself, but the lord lead him this far and with his weapons he could deal with this degenerate easily enough. That is if the lord wished it of course.

  Hours went by not a word was spoken until the guide spoke out, “I believe this is what you seek, oh great prophet” The prophet gasped in awe and nodded "This is it then. The temple of the lost tribes?" The question was more of a rhetorical statement, as the prophet was trying to come to terms that this moment was upon him. The guide answered the question regardless, "Of course, the lord always helps his most vital servants." Ahead stood the once mighty temple. Time was kind to the grand structure. From the outside one would have no idea of the horror that has occurred here. Very few know of these events, the prophet was among the knowing. The prophet, excited to see the temple, made his way inside.

  The temple was simple in design, but elegant in detail. The center of the room held a large stone table stained with blood, and burned from flame. "So, this is where they did it. This is where they sealed him.” The Prophet runs his hand across the table trying to imagine their plight. “Do you know your way around inside the catacombs?" The Prophet wished to see more of this historical place, "Well enough to get you where you need to be my lord". The guide approached a candle on the wall pulling it forward. As the guide did this a small section of the floor vanished without any movement, leaving behind nothing but stairs to the dark underground. The prophet examines the stairs downward and inquired to the guide, "It’s so dark. How will we see?" The prophet turned to see the man with two of the candle sticks in hand, "With this my lord, it’s why I grabbed it." The prophet was going to ask how he detached it from the wall, but decided against it. He took one of the candle sticks from the guide and they began their decent.

  Insects climbed the, walls dirt coated the floor, and even though he couldn’t see the ceiling he could guess it was just as filthy. It saddened him to see such a wondrous place in such disarray. He heard so many tales of wonder about this place, the place where it happened, where they finally won the war. "I assume you’re look for the tombs so as to pay homage to those that died sealing the gre-…terrible one."  The prophet simply nodded keeping his eyes on the guide and his hand at his side. They walked on for many minutes before the prophet noticed the water on the floor. As they walked on he noticed the amount of water increased, "What causes these puddles that surround us?" The guide looked over his shoulder and quickly answered, "The water seeps through the ground of course." This was unlike how the guide had acted the whole way here. He had an odd haste to his walk. This worried the prophet, but he still needed the man if he wished to leave this place. The puddles became deeper as he went further, but the prophet didn’t say a word about it he just walked on.

  Finally they came to a metal door with names etched into its outside. The prophet reads the names, but recognizes none, "Who are all these people." He turns to ask the guide, but he was gone. From out of the darkness he heard a voice, "They are the names of every pool we passed, every fool who entered, and every creature that dared to not fear me!" Out of the darkness the guide stepped. He stood straight, his hunched no more. His hair was tied back from his face,his face scared from burns. "Who are you?" the prophet asked with terror in his voice.A sickly smile formed on the guides face, the prophet was greeted with a view of his shark like teeth as the guide spoke, “Can you not see? Does your lord not show you? I am he the demon that was sealed here.” The prophets face went ghostly pale as the realization of his plight came to him, “W…w…what do you w…w…want from m…m…me?”  Tears ran down the prophet’s face now as he cried in fear. Still smiling the demon handed him a sharp stone, "What do you think I want?"  Now on the ground unable to stand from fear, the prophet asked, "Are you going to kill me?" The guide took a knee and leaned in close to the prophet’s face. With a soft whisper of a voice he said, “Do you fear death prophet?” The prophet, crippled with fear, could no longer speak. The demon chuckled amused at the prophet’s distress. With laughter that shuttered the spine the demon spoke, "I’ll take your cries as a yes. You have a choice to make here prophet, that is, if you wish to live. If you your choice is life, then deny your god and follow me. The promise of fortune and victory await you. If you are a true believer, then you can write your name on that door with the other true believers. But, if you do this only pain and suffering await at the end of that road." The prophet didn’t know what to do he couldn’t forsake his lord, but the prophet knew he wasn’t ready to die. He was as a cross roads, what was he to do?

  After a long while of though the Prophet muttered, “Alright…” A silent response, almost as if to himself. “What? I didn't quite here that? Speak CLEARLY!” The demon screamed the last word down on the prophet making him withdraw further towards the door, “I…I forsake my…god and choose to…I choose to…” The Demon howled at the pathetic man, “SAY IT!” The prophet took a deep breath, “I choose to worship you as my…my lord” The demon gazed down at the groveling man, “Well then you know what to do…bow and swear by my name to live in my honor” As the demon finished his instructions the man broke down and did as he said. When the deed was done the demon started to laugh. He laughed for what felt like eternity to the scared man, “So…that’s it then right? I can l…l…live?” The prophet was sad too look at. The demon stopped his laughter and looked down on the man with prophet with pity in his eyes, "Oh, you poor old fool. Don't they teach you anything of demons? Allow me to shed some light on the subject. When a demon is inside a human body, his powers are all still there, however, we are limited in a simple way. We may not change shape or harm humans. Be that as it may, there is a way around this rule” The prophet stared at the demon, “Wha…what is this?” The demon smiled sickeningly, “I’m glad you asked. The way around this is simple. Those under our dominion, in other words our worshippers, are subject to our powers” The prophet’s face grew pale as he started to realize what the demon meant. The demon continued, “Do you see now old man? I will let you live…but, only because I'm going to have a little fun first" The prophet just sat in dread of the situation....what he had just done. Unable to move from fear the prophet just sat and stared, "I can see that you’re speechless with excitement” The demon laughed to himself, “Well that's fine. You needn’t speak anyway" He leaned in close to the prophet’s face. He grasped the candle in the prophet’s hands and whispered "But, I will need you to scream"

  The demon leaned back and stared directly into the prophet’s eyes grinning ear to ear. He lifted the candle to his lips and with one motion blew it out, rescinding into the darkness with a sickening laugh. The prophet was petrified, time seemed to stop. From back in the tunnel the prophet heard a voice, “David! Come back to us David!” The voice sounded familiar…but why was it out here? “Come on David it’s time to come with us” The Prophet could hear footsteps splashing through the puddles of water. A figure in the distance, “There you are David” The Prophet could hardly make out who the man was, he could swear he knew him, but he just couldn’t put his finger on who it was. The figure gave a sigh, “Oh David, I know we’ve been gone from home for a while but the four of us came looking for you and I walk all the way down here to see what? You crying in a corner” The figure leaned down, directly staring into the Prophets face, still the prophet couldn’t remember who it was. With a smile he spoke again, “Messing around down here has left you all dirty…here…let’s clean your face” The Prophet felt the man begin to drag him by his hair. The Prophet tried to break free, but the man was too strong for him. The Prophet swore he knew no one of such strength, but his mind insisted that he knew this man. Lingering memories of his voice that we couldn’t quite grasp, just escaping his reach. After what felt like an hour the man stopped walking, “Look David, we prepared a nice bath for you” The Prophet looked to see nothing more than a puddle, a puddle that was only slightly deeper than the rest. The man leaned in beside the Prophet and spoke, “You seem disoriented David…allow me too…help you” The Prophet could feel the man’s hand being placed on the back of his head. Before he could react The Prophets face was forced into the puddle. He was drowning, The Prophet was dying. He struggled and fought, but it was no use. This man was still too strong for him. The Prophet knew he would die soon as he felt the creeping claws of sleep embracing him. The Prophet closed his eyes. With his death inevitable he chose to accept it.

so i wrote this and i have 2 endings for it but i don't know which to use if you like it reblog it with what you think he should do.... or just ask if you dont like it enough to reblog :S