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#Post#: 216--------------------------------------------------
Ashes to Ashes
DIR By: Dmitri
Date: October 13, 2012, 4:16 pm
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Ashes to Ashes
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During countless violent centuries of living, boredom is a
problem I never had to face. How could existence grow dull when
thousands of pathetic meat puppets vie for power and are willing
to give up anything to attain it? This is where I come in. I am
a demon. Not just any demon, no, but a blood demon. A demon
whose power is related to the very thing meat puppets need to
live.
Years have gone by, and my last flesh being was just killed by
my hand. Eviscerated. It happens in all contracts; a weak one
will strike a deal with me for more power, I give it, and when
they have achieved what they wished, I ruthlessly cut them down.
Boom, no more. Goodbye. Adios. Avidizang. .
Then, the red dawn approached. I know you are no demon, so I
will be sure to clarify certain things for your kind. A red dawn
is when a human summons a blood demon; it’s the dawn of a new
birth for us, the red symbolizing our strength through blood. I
was being summoned. For what purpose? I knew it all too well. If
only I hadn’t become so fucking careless.
She called for me, beyond what humans would consider “reality”
and from what many would consider “hell”. She beckoned and like
a trained dog, I came to my new master. And as I exited from the
body that was offered as my portal, ripping apart the meat
puppet that was sacrificed for my coming, I saw her. Ruby red
hair and crimson eyes, the look of a seductress, the look of a
witch.
As my power swelled around her and what I presumed to be her
acolytes, I took form from the blood of the unfortunate I burst
from. From my new “back” I summon forth magnificent wings made
from the tainted blood of my creation. I shape myself, my wings
expanding, my face contorting and twisting before taking shape
and image. I am both beautiful and terrifying to behold.
She smiles, a soft caressing smile that for some reason, mars
her eloquent face. A smile that makes even I, a blood demon,
shudder on the inside. That feeling, the distinct feeling. Fear.
Something I had not felt in centuries.
I step forth from the destroyed body. My bloodied feet touch
the ground, the boiling blood sizzling as it hits the dirt. My
wings fold inward, hiding behind my massive, yet slender body.
Something feels off, but I don’t know what it is. I speak -
“Behold, my glory. All that I am, you may become. My power, can
be yours, for a price. Is this not why you called me?”
“Lo! Demon, I have brought you here to speak and hopefully
strike a deal. My name is Syrina and my power is beyond compare.
I wish to offer thee a deal, a deal that you would be very
foolish to deny.” She tilts her head, her eerie smile never
leaving her face. Her voice is soft, yet beneath the feigned
innocents, a diabolic edge lies.
“A deal. What is it then, meat puppet, if the deal is so
terrible you must threaten me to accept? Your power is no more
to me than an ant is to you. No matter how powerful any of you
become, you are still but food for me. What is stopping me from
simply cutting you down now and taking your sou?”
She gazes at me, her eyes boring into mine. I stare at her,
reaching out with my mind to touch hers, only to find that I
can’t. I can’t feel her. I snarl and plunge my energy into the
earth below me. Just as I thought, a sealing spell.
“Oh demon, you gaze upon me, yet you do not see me for what I
am. Allow me to say this, I would like to own you. Give me your
being and I shall let you live a little longer, if it is to my
amusement,” she softly says in a songlike voice. Her red robe
flutters in a slight breeze, revealing her naked body underneath
that would be attractive to mortals, where it not covered with
cuts of all shapes and sizes.
I grin, my mouth stretching unnaturally wide revealing dozens
of razor teeth. With an explosion of blood, claws erupt from my
fingertips, long serrated claws that look as though they can cut
the air itself. I take a step forward with every intent to kill
this one and her followers.
She gazes at me before reaching into her jacket. I know I
mustn’t give this witch the chance to strike me for I must hit
her first, destroy her with my claws as I unleash a spell that
will destroy her followers as well. I rush, cutting through the
barrier that holds me. Two of her acolytes step in front of me,
their hands pointed outward as they chant in that pathetic
language of theirs.
I rip through both of them without even pausing, separating the
older ones head from his body and the younger ones upper body
from his lower. Their blood spills from their bodies but before
it hits the ground, it flows through the air and into me. My
blood. My power.
I thrust my claws at her chest. I see her eyes. I see,
amusement. Faster than any meat puppet I have ever encountered,
she pulls out a thin piece of paper with strange otherworldly
runes etched across it in blood of innocents. I shriek as my
claws make contact with it, and flow into it. Within just a few
seconds, my body, my powerful, glorious body, is sealed.
The sutra bleeds completely red, a soft glow escapes it as I
strike against my prison, utilizing every ounce of magic I have
to break out. No avail. I am stuck, watching from the parchment
the world outside.
I see her extend her arms, and her sleeves falling away, her
wrists splitting open in a bloody mess. The cuts extend from
each wrist through her forearms; the blood spilling like warm
rain on a cool summer night. She drenches me in her own blood,
her magick absorbing into the sutra, her mind pressing against
mine. What is she?
Opening her mouth, Syrina dangles me above her all devouring
maw. I am helpless, trapped. How could I have been so stupid and
careless? I gaze at her, and I know, the sutra is dissolving
into ash, landing on her tongue and becoming blood. My blood
with hers.
As I enter her body, I feel her soul pressing against me. The
power. She has done this before. The sutra that held me, it was
made of others. Other demons and powerful mages. She wanted ME.
She knew what I was, she knew who I was. I feel her soul wrap
around mine, forcing me into a bubble so my consciousness can
remain separate.
As her blood runs through me, and mine runs through her, I
know. She was the little girl I spared because the joy and awe
she showed after I slaughtered her family. She was the girl that
other AiZet, blood demons, warn each other about. She was the
leader of the Endless, and I am now her prisoner. Her own
personal demon. I hear her speak. -
“Vanin, how I waited for this. I knew you would forget about
me. A couple centuries and I am nothing but a distant memory.
Well now you are mine, and your survival depends solely upon my
survival. You will give me your power, lest we both shall
perish. Mutual need. This world is changing, my dear, sweet
Vanin. Had I not saved you, you would have been destroyed
eventually. Think of this as our new beginning, our red dawn.”
I am paralyzed within her. I feel my blood tainting hers,
giving her more power than any other meat puppet I have ever
consorted with. Anger grips me. I am tempted to lash out at her
soul, but logic dictates, were she to be destroyed, I would be
as well. As great and terrible my anger is, it is quickly
overcome with fear and trepidation. She knows something so
personal, something impossible to know, I cannot help but to
dread the future.
She knows my name.
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