Post by Seven on Oct 25, 2008 21:06:25 GMT -5
"Well, that was a god-damn waste of time." The Prince of Shadows narrowed his eyes at something at his feet. "Maybe good for de-stressing though....." He cracks his knuckles, then stretches his arms. He looks around vacantly. Others might see only beauty in the forest. The green leaves and the sounds of song birds. Daemon saw nothing out of the ordinary, just another world like all the worlds he'd seen before. Bland, disappointing, bleh. He shrugs. "Ok, tradition over. I might as well go back home now...."
He stretched again, this time yawning, almost with child-like simplicity. He turned away, intent on returning to the shadows and to his sleep, but he only had the chance to take a few more steps before a croaking noise called out from behind him.
"Wait!" The male voice pleaded. "Don't leave me like this!" A spurtling, coughing noise came afterwards. Daemon's eyes sharpened slightly with a snake-like glint, turning to look over his shoulder. "Oh?" his melodic tone taunted.
He began to pace back, retracing his few steps, then knelt down to see eye-to-eye with the "thing." Which, inevitably was a head, eyes gouged, piked through a dark, black stick--a shadow in condensed form. Daemon grinned sadistically. "Ah, what's the matter friend? Isn't this what you wanted?'
"Never..." the head barely managed to stutter.
"Really? That's not what you lead me to believe! Here I was, innocent little me, drinking my coffee, trying to keep my energy levels low, minding my own business." Daemon puts the tip of his finger to the man's forehead. The man suddenly begins to scream in agony, as he rubs his finger in.
"Then you came along, you arrogant little clod. Who did you think you were, to upon sensing the faintest amount of dark energy in me to join your little nonsense group or die? I mean, after all, that wasn't a very nice way to go about making acquaintances, no? You didn't even know who I was!"
"Please stop!" blood rolled down in place of tears. Daemon smirked a little, at least glad to know he hadn't lost his touch from his soul-torturing days. He pulled his finger back, if only to not put up with the man's incessant screaming.
"And so you denounced me a fool for not joining you, since you, as you said, are the most powerful man to walk the earth, and declared a match against me. And so I humbly accepted, since I figured I needed the exercise. And then, once it's all done and through, what is it that you told me? Come on---say it!"
"Spare me!"
Daemon grins again. "That's right. And in my infinite generosity, I did. I spared you...." Daemon's eyes began to drift a little further away, where a body, mangled and dismembered by the shadows, lies. He chuckles and shrugs. "Well, most of you at least. But I compensated, didn't I? I even gave you what you originally requested--my dark power to aid you. And thus, even without body, through my power I have spared you and thus you live. Though I must comment, that that too must be a slight nuisance, being that you're not of my kind, and thus, being healed by my magic will sustain you, but in agony." Daemon flashed an angelic smile, though the now sightless man could not appreciate it. "But do cheer up--all your wishes were granted, were they not?" He gives the man a friendly pat on the head.
Daemon stood up, frowning again and looking rather annoyed. "Anyways, I ought to be returning to my abode now, as there's only so much evil a man can dish out in a day---"
The head suddenly gave out a disdainful laugh. "That's it!? That's all?" the head asks incredulously. It laughs again, choking through the pain. "Perhaps you are stronger--true, but I expected more from the so-called 'Prince of Hell!'" Daemon turned again, looking at the head with a sharp glint in his eyes. The head was about to continue, but Daemon cut him off.
"I am astonished that you have the courage to insult me---or at least I would be, if I didn't already know your hidden motivation. You imagined you might anger me enough to the point I'd use my power to recreate you, only to torture you again, no? And then, you in your naivety thought you would have a moment's chance to cast a mind-enslaving spell on me--or is this not also correct?" The head looked astonished, and then pained. "Reaper, as you call yourself, let me clarify something." He bends down again. "Your little remark, a stupidly contrived insult that a fourth grader could have come up with, has greatly offended me." In Daemon's cool monotone, it was impossible to tell whether he was being serious or not. Perhaps it did offend him, reminding him of years long forgotten. "But I like to think I am a benevolent ruler, who listens to their subjects...and all those who are about to become their subjects....Since you see me as incapable, I desire to prove my worth." He paused, reading the head's mind. " You founded a little group named the 13, no? Well never fear, Reaper, you can leave this world assured that you're edifice won't go on without you and ever mark you left upon this miserable planet shall vanish. Yes, know that your new Prince will justify his ability to you. Know that your blessed wretchedness shall extend beyond this life and great you in tenfold in your next." Daemon smirked a little. "Yes, my servants shall escort you to your new home. I've told them to treat you with the utmost care.
With that, the shadows leap forward, consuming the remains of Reaper, a yell of pure wretchedness emitting from the bundle of shadows, half in the unbearable pain death, half in the terror of the world yet to come. The shadows faded, leaving not even a drop of blood as evidence to the murder that had just been committed.
Daemon sighed, stalking away, wondering why he had even bothered with such theatrics. Perhaps for old times' sake. No, to one like he, the acts of darkness were enthralling. He could not deny that. But at the same time, they only served as the constant reminder of that which haunted him, that which he discovered so many years ago. Life was simpler back then.
"Of course I can go back on my promise..." Daemon looked back to the flickering shadows, ready to embrace him as a mother might. He paused for a second, wondering if he wanted to return to Hell just yet, return to his slumber. He sighs. "What's the difference--I live only to pass the time either way. I might as well seek out the other members of his abysmal joke of a group, if only to see what events unfold here. Perhaps I will torture and murder them all as I promised." He shrugs, casually walking away, as if he had made a decision as trivial as eating Chinese rather than Italian.
He stretched again, this time yawning, almost with child-like simplicity. He turned away, intent on returning to the shadows and to his sleep, but he only had the chance to take a few more steps before a croaking noise called out from behind him.
"Wait!" The male voice pleaded. "Don't leave me like this!" A spurtling, coughing noise came afterwards. Daemon's eyes sharpened slightly with a snake-like glint, turning to look over his shoulder. "Oh?" his melodic tone taunted.
He began to pace back, retracing his few steps, then knelt down to see eye-to-eye with the "thing." Which, inevitably was a head, eyes gouged, piked through a dark, black stick--a shadow in condensed form. Daemon grinned sadistically. "Ah, what's the matter friend? Isn't this what you wanted?'
"Never..." the head barely managed to stutter.
"Really? That's not what you lead me to believe! Here I was, innocent little me, drinking my coffee, trying to keep my energy levels low, minding my own business." Daemon puts the tip of his finger to the man's forehead. The man suddenly begins to scream in agony, as he rubs his finger in.
"Then you came along, you arrogant little clod. Who did you think you were, to upon sensing the faintest amount of dark energy in me to join your little nonsense group or die? I mean, after all, that wasn't a very nice way to go about making acquaintances, no? You didn't even know who I was!"
"Please stop!" blood rolled down in place of tears. Daemon smirked a little, at least glad to know he hadn't lost his touch from his soul-torturing days. He pulled his finger back, if only to not put up with the man's incessant screaming.
"And so you denounced me a fool for not joining you, since you, as you said, are the most powerful man to walk the earth, and declared a match against me. And so I humbly accepted, since I figured I needed the exercise. And then, once it's all done and through, what is it that you told me? Come on---say it!"
"Spare me!"
Daemon grins again. "That's right. And in my infinite generosity, I did. I spared you...." Daemon's eyes began to drift a little further away, where a body, mangled and dismembered by the shadows, lies. He chuckles and shrugs. "Well, most of you at least. But I compensated, didn't I? I even gave you what you originally requested--my dark power to aid you. And thus, even without body, through my power I have spared you and thus you live. Though I must comment, that that too must be a slight nuisance, being that you're not of my kind, and thus, being healed by my magic will sustain you, but in agony." Daemon flashed an angelic smile, though the now sightless man could not appreciate it. "But do cheer up--all your wishes were granted, were they not?" He gives the man a friendly pat on the head.
Daemon stood up, frowning again and looking rather annoyed. "Anyways, I ought to be returning to my abode now, as there's only so much evil a man can dish out in a day---"
The head suddenly gave out a disdainful laugh. "That's it!? That's all?" the head asks incredulously. It laughs again, choking through the pain. "Perhaps you are stronger--true, but I expected more from the so-called 'Prince of Hell!'" Daemon turned again, looking at the head with a sharp glint in his eyes. The head was about to continue, but Daemon cut him off.
"I am astonished that you have the courage to insult me---or at least I would be, if I didn't already know your hidden motivation. You imagined you might anger me enough to the point I'd use my power to recreate you, only to torture you again, no? And then, you in your naivety thought you would have a moment's chance to cast a mind-enslaving spell on me--or is this not also correct?" The head looked astonished, and then pained. "Reaper, as you call yourself, let me clarify something." He bends down again. "Your little remark, a stupidly contrived insult that a fourth grader could have come up with, has greatly offended me." In Daemon's cool monotone, it was impossible to tell whether he was being serious or not. Perhaps it did offend him, reminding him of years long forgotten. "But I like to think I am a benevolent ruler, who listens to their subjects...and all those who are about to become their subjects....Since you see me as incapable, I desire to prove my worth." He paused, reading the head's mind. " You founded a little group named the 13, no? Well never fear, Reaper, you can leave this world assured that you're edifice won't go on without you and ever mark you left upon this miserable planet shall vanish. Yes, know that your new Prince will justify his ability to you. Know that your blessed wretchedness shall extend beyond this life and great you in tenfold in your next." Daemon smirked a little. "Yes, my servants shall escort you to your new home. I've told them to treat you with the utmost care.
With that, the shadows leap forward, consuming the remains of Reaper, a yell of pure wretchedness emitting from the bundle of shadows, half in the unbearable pain death, half in the terror of the world yet to come. The shadows faded, leaving not even a drop of blood as evidence to the murder that had just been committed.
Daemon sighed, stalking away, wondering why he had even bothered with such theatrics. Perhaps for old times' sake. No, to one like he, the acts of darkness were enthralling. He could not deny that. But at the same time, they only served as the constant reminder of that which haunted him, that which he discovered so many years ago. Life was simpler back then.
"Of course I can go back on my promise..." Daemon looked back to the flickering shadows, ready to embrace him as a mother might. He paused for a second, wondering if he wanted to return to Hell just yet, return to his slumber. He sighs. "What's the difference--I live only to pass the time either way. I might as well seek out the other members of his abysmal joke of a group, if only to see what events unfold here. Perhaps I will torture and murder them all as I promised." He shrugs, casually walking away, as if he had made a decision as trivial as eating Chinese rather than Italian.