Nine Years Ago
The younger Scott gasped as he found himself in Hell. Not the classical depiction of Hell from his Christian upbringing, but as soon as he arrived, he knew this was Hell. The whole thing was crazy. From Dragons to Witches to Hell. All in less than five minutes.
The landscape was barren and rocky, and oppressively hot. Everything seemed… close. It didn’t make sense, but the horizon didn’t seem to be that far ahead of him. The damned sun, it felt like it was immediately above him.
He spun around, taking in his surroundings looking for landmarks, but the scenery was mostly flat, and any feature seemed to be repeated several times. Rocks looked the same, dried trees seemed to have the same spread and shape.
It was almost as if the world was a videogame landscape made from assets from the Unity shop. Of course! This was all some trick – he was in some form of VR.
The screaming echoed around him, making its point of origin hard to pinpoint. Twisting he didn’t see the large demon until it was upon him, clinging to his back, its claws scrabbling at his chest and visor as the young box yelled in agony. He grabbed the demon’s arms, but failed to stop its attack, as he turned his head sharply from side to side trying to get a glancing blast to dislodge him.
The demon knocked his visor off, before clawing at his eye. The optic blast blew the demons hand off, making it scream in agony and retreat, whimpering as it disappeared.
Scott fell to his knees, his hands pressed against his eyes. Blood pouring from the left side. Sobbing he tried to deny the pain. “Its not real” he said to himself. “Its not real. It’s a game. Some stupid computer game.” The pain didn’t lessen.
He heard a rock tumble down a slope to his left. Immediately the pain was forgotten as he strained his ears to hear more, afraid – for now – to remove his hand from his good eye. He heard something else, a faint chattering to he right. And then a blood-chilling howl. Without thinking he uncovered his eye and let his optic blast free, punching a huge semi-circular arc as he rotated his head. Dozens of bodies were thrown back by the beam, each one a twisted demonic shape, but his blast had bought him some time, as those affected scrabbled to their feet, and those behind looked on unsure. Seeking an advantage, he backed against a tall rock. Now he would only have to defend his front and sides. He swept his blast around him once more – establishing an area of his territory. He hoped his message was clear. Anyone… anyTHING that entered would be blasted.
Without thinking he thrust his arm forwards. As he did so a prestige, unnaturally clean plate of gleaming armour formed around it. But even more surprisingly, a long, silver sword appeared in his hand. The sword thrust into the chest of the demon, making its eyes bug with surprise and… something else?
“The Darkchilde”. One of the demons spoke, as the others fell into silence. “He is our ruler.”
The horde fell back, forming a semi-circle around him, their bodies scooped and lowered. “Master, forgive us. We did not know.”
He made an oddly triumphant sight. A thin, lanky teenage boy, barely able to stand, holding a glimmering sword high above his head with one hand, the other hand over his bleeding eye while his other eye was closed tightly, making him unable to see the swarm of demons bowing before him, begging for forgiveness.
He simply laughed. The day couldn’t get any more crazy.
……
Two Months Ago
Scott felt alive when hunting with the demonic pack. Mounted atop a giant SkullHound he had conquered and tamed, he swung his sword as the wave of Imps swarming all around him and his demonic subjects. Laughing he hacked at the grey mass as their thick black blood pooled on his armour and skin.
The scent of their blood made his mouth water, and he licked his lips, his thin forked tongue darting in and out of his mouth like the tongue of a snake. He scooped down, grabbing an armful of dead and dying Imps, tossing them into his bag. “Grab as many as bag you can,” he commanded, “but leave room for our real prey.”
They were hunting a much richer game; SkullHounds. A single hound will provide him with enough food for a week or more, not to mention is fur would come in handy now that the nights were growing colder. His steed could easily carry two carcasses, maybe three. His loyal horde could manage another three or four.
Tonight his kingdom would feast well. He roared loudly, the bellowing sound echoing on the tall rocks surrounding them as he urged his party onwards… to victory!
One Month Ago
He stood over the dying beast, his forked tongue flickering in and out of his mouth, tasting the sharp, metallic copper of the hound’s blood in the air. He held his arm high in the air, willing the Soulsword to form in his hand. Then, with a shout of triumph, he plunged the blade through the creature’s skull-like head, pinning it to the hard, rocky ground.
He heard the excited chattering of his demonic underlings around him, and he felt his own excitement rise. With each of his deep, heavy breaths, with each pounding of his heart, the chattering around him seemed to grow louder. He felt hunger inside him, his stomach aching for something.
He looked down at his prey. Its wounds glistened under the desert sun, already bloated Fleshflies swarmed and busied themselves around each weeping wound. His stomach burned. Unthinkingly he squatted down and thrust his hands into the largest open wound and scooped out the blood and meat within, shovelling it into his mouth. He ate until his need was stated, and it was only then that the true knowledge of what he had done hit him. He felt ashamed.
“Leave me” he bellowed, waving his arm to dismiss his demon subjects. “Go!”. The demons stopped their chatter and looked at him, sly smiles on their faces. “I said ‘go’!” he yelled, an optic blast skirted around the feet of the demons, scattering them. Gibbering, hissing and cursing they withdrew, heading towards their camp.
He watched them go, then screamed in frustration, throwing his head back and letting an optic blast light up the sky; a glowing crimson column of his shame and rage.
“I knew this day would come.” The harsh voice came from the top of a rock to his side. He turned and saw a pale, grey demon studying him. “Now you are ready.”
“I ordered you to leave me!” he snarled.
“And I opted to stay.” It replied. “It was my choice.”
“Today you saw what you have the potential to become. But you also managed to stop yourself falling into that darkness permanently. The man was stronger than the demon within. The fragmant of the DarkChilde she bestowed upon you grows stronger. Accept it and be one with it. When denied the demonic essence gains control. Embraced and acknowledged, it can bestow upon you great power. It has already granted you control over your eye-magic”
The demon bowed, “I am M’Raith, and I have watched you since the moment you were exiled her by The Goblin Queen. And now Dark Master, you and I have much to discuss.”
One Week Ago
His only meaningful interactions were with M’Raith. He had grown to enjoy their daily conversations. After a hard day working or fighting he would seek his counsel. They discussed many things, and now M’Raith was describing the nature of his prison.
“This is not Limbo. Not the proper Limbo. But it’s a place made from Limbo. Nothing here is real. We are creations. We are all soulless automations of differing complexity. The Fleshflies, Imps and Scamps were created as vermin to plague you yet provide you with enough sustenance to survive. The SkullHounds to test you. Us higher demons were created simply to torment you. Did you never wonder why our number never varies?”
Scott leaned forward. “Created to torment you? Yet you all now serve me? Why? How do you know this and why betray her like this?”
His confident smiled, exposing his sharp fangs. “Because in a way, we are part of her. So we know what she knows. Over time, we… I… have learned more. I speculate I know truths about her she herself does not know. As to why betray her? Don’t all children seek to find their own identity and break free of their parents?”
“but more than that,” he continued, “this landscape may have been her creation, but it was created with the power of the Darkchilde, which means it was created by Limbo. And Limbo bows to the DarkChilde, the Soulsword and Soularmour. We have to obey, Master.”
“But surely, The Goblin Queen has a Soulsword as well, yet you don’t obey her.” He questioned.
“Ah, but there is only one Soulsword, and it belongs to you. The Goblin Queen could never manifest the sword.”
“Why couldn’t the Goblin Queen use the Soulsword or armour?” he asked.
“You do not know? Perhaps that is something for you to ponder.” He replied.
Two Days Ago
“I had another vision. This one was stronger.” Scott said to M’Raith. “Why is this happening?”
“Limbo is not a place, my Lord, it is a living thing. Every soul who has died here becomes part of Limbo. It enables it to expand. Other hellscapes and their masters use souls as playthings or currency. Limbo absorbs souls to grow, and it also means Limbo itself is alive. Limbo is talking to you, guiding you. What was it saying?”
Scott furrowed his brow, as he tried to remember his dream. “I… I don’t know, it was confusing. But I saw her again. The one who trapped me here. The Goblin Queen. But she was covered in dirt, warts and sores, kneeling, her head bowed, her hair dirty and matted hanging down. She looked pathetic and broken. Crowd of demons was gathered around her, their claws and fangs barred. And she did nothing to stop them. She didn’t move. And I felt that I was the only one holding the demons back, and a single word of mine could get them to rip her to shreds.”
His confident smiled.
“The Goblin Queen is not the true ruler of Limbo. She cannot be. She has power, but Limbo itself rejects her. For she was not born. She was created, with a magic nobody here understands. But as an unnatural creation she possesses no soul. How can one with no soul rule over a gestalt of souls?” He slowed his words as he finished his explanation. “She may possess the power of the DarkChilde, but that’s all she has – its power. Where as you, you have the essence of the DarkChilde inside you, inside your soul.” The last word was emphasised.