Hot tears streamed down the child's cheeks. She couldn't stop crying, it was as if someone had broken the gates of a damn that had been collecting the waters of sorrow for a lifetime. It hurt so much, more than she ever knew anything could hurt. The pain of her body was a pale shadow to the pain inside, the true pain that the brother she had loved had forced upon her. “No” The single word resounded in the air in denial, her voice shaky. She couldn't accept this, she couldn't let it go. He was wrong....Sarthas was wrong. Closing her eyes she let the light flow through her, the light that she had found upon her death long years ago. The light that promised hope and soothed away the pain.
A single ray of white radiance burst through the dreary cloud cover high overhead to settle upon the fallen child, revealing beautiful full white feathered wings upon her back. Slowly, her ruined legs began to mend themselves. Bones reattaching, muscle connecting and even the bruises faded until all that remained was her perfect doll-like completion. Only the tears were there to hint at the terrible thing had taken place only moments ago. Rising to her feet she stared down into the darkness, a darkness she was forbidden to enter. Her uncontrolled sobs had earned her the hiccups. Small squeaks repeating again and again as she tried to control the tears that would not stop.
He had made a promise, Sar had promised and he wouldn't lie. Sar never lied, even when he was bad, Sar wouldn't lie. This line of thinking slowly calmed the little girl until at last the tears began to slow. Her new friend had made a promise as well, she had promised that Sar would be ok. No matter what happened that he was safe. An image of the young woman flashed into Celest's mind and the strand tied around her neck. There at the end of that strand was her favorite thing. A gift from a mother she had never met. It was a pretty ring and she hated giving it away, but Sar had been so sad. And now, it looked pretty on Risa, so she could hold on to it. Besides, Sar never liked pretty things. He wasn't suppose to like them, or he would get in trouble. These small childish thoughts calmed the little girl and she at last halted the tears for a moment.
It was strange, she seemed to waver between the mind of a child and that of a woman much older than she appeared. A moment before she had fully understood what Sarthas was doing to her and the meaning of his final words, but now...she was nothing more than a child. Almost as if she were two separate entities living in the body of a single small little girl. Lifting her hand, she reached forward but the moment her fingers broke the line of the first step descending into the crypt she snapped her hand back in pain. The tips of her fingers were slightly blackened and smoldering. Rubbing her hand gently her childish features hardened and a look of resolute defiance washed over her face.
“You will not be rid of me so easily.” Her words seemed cold and bitter, shocking coming from the body of such a small child. Clenching her fingers together in tiny fists at her side, a very familiar twisted smile graced her lips and she stepped forward. Screaming pain erupted throughout her small body and it seemed as if every single nerve in her body suddenly caught fire. Tears threatened her eyes once more, but she held them in check through shear force of will. A will hardened by the trials she had endured in her short life. Her skin began to blacken as the sanctity of her body was violated by the unholy earth, yet she pressed forward. There was resilience in those eyes that could not be described in words. This was no small child, this was a woman who had suffered beyond imagination in the fires of adversity and come out tempered steel.
She took another step, the pain near overwhelming now as a single tear escaped the ocean of her brilliant blue eye to trail its way down her burned and blackened cheek. She moved to take yet another step but found herself caught on something. Turning to look over her shoulder she found that her wings had come into contact with the invisible barrier as if it were a wall of stone. Grinding down on her teeth hard, she turned forward and struggled to continue as the soft blond of her hair began to melt away on her skull. Her features changed suddenly, to that of fear and she found herself calling out the name of a brother that had abandoned her. “Sar....please!” She screamed as if simply voicing his name would stop the pain she was suffering. It always had in the past, he had always made the bad men stop but now...she was alone and he was gone.
She began to panic and thrash about wildly to free herself but her weak struggles appeared useless. It seemed she would be doomed to suffer an eternity of pain, caught between heaven and hell. She felt despair grip her heart with its icy fingers once more and the gray empty world around her began to spin. “Sar, make it stop.” She pleaded with her childish voice, tears once again pouring down the charred flesh of her cheeks. Suddenly a dark figure appeared before her, holding out its hand. Celest's mind was reeling in agony and she couldn't make out the details in the darkness through the tears. But in her mind, this was Sarthas. Only he would be there to protect her, only he would have answered her call. She reached out, grasping the hand just as she had done so many times in the past. She felt the warmth from the grip even through the pain of the ruined nerves in her hand. “Help me.” She begged in a voice filled with pain.
The figure did not answer at first. It only stood there, the blackness of the crypt oozing from its form. Though she could not make out its face, in that moment she thought she caught the hint of a smile and then it happened. It pulled hard, harder than anything should have been capable of as it dislocated her shoulder. White light erupted inside her head as the new pain blindsided the small angel. She lay there for long moments sobbing, the pain slowly fading to leave a dull emptiness in its place. At long last, she found the strength to lift her head from the dusty stone stairs. The figure was gone and she was alone once again.
Somehow, she managed to raise the upper half of her body with her single good arm. She felt a sharp prickling sensation in her back, as if she were being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles. Glancing behind her, back up the stairs something white flashed in the dreary lighting. Celest froze, her breath catching in her throat. There upon the steps, splattered with crimson were her once beautiful wings. The full weight of what she had done came crashing down upon her. She had torn her own wings from her back, to enter a place of evil that she was forbidden. She closed her eyes, searching in desperation for the light that had been there to comfort her in death. It was gone. She had been desperate to reach a brother and friend that had forsaken her...and she was damned for it.
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Sarthas had felt the pull the moment he had entered the darkness. Something was pulling him back the way he had come, back to the land of the living but something else was pulling him forward. It was near maddening, but then again no one had ever claimed Sarthas was sane to begin with. On he moved, without a seconds hesitation through the empty lands of the dead. It was as if he had been here before, as if he already knew the direction he must take. Every now and then a whisper of a sound found its way too him, but it was dull. As if even the sound had the life drained from it in this forsaken place.
He had expected a bit more of a lively reception. Legions of demons intent on ripping his soul apart again and again. Some fire and brimstone, maybe endless halls of torture chambers. That is what Hell was suppose to be like right? Or maybe it was simply the absence of everything and he would be doomed to wander these empty wastes for all of eternity. “Wouldn't that be dull.” The words caressed his mind with a soft silky tone. The sudden appearance of the voice made the man freeze in his tracks, snapping his head around looking for the source. There only a few short feet away seated upon a large gray and rather unimaginative rock, sat a woman. Or what looked like a woman anyway, she certainly had the figure.
But there was more too it than that. She had small obsidian horns that curved their way from her forehead back over the top of her long jet black hair. That silky softness hung half way down her back, swaying gently in a non existent breeze. Her eyes were a strange metallic silvery hew and they seemed to burrow into his soul as she watched him with a playful smile on her pale lips. Her skin, had a reddish hew too it, deep enough to be noticeable yet not harsh enough to be overbearing. She was naked, completely naked in fact and the only thing preventing him from seeing every single curve that god (or the devil) had seen to grace her with was the fact that she had her legs crossed as she sat. Sarthas got the feeling however that it wasn't modesty that had drawn her to this pose but something far sinister. All in all, even he had to admit she was impressively alluring.
“Coming from you, that's quite the praise.” Her voice twisted into his mind like the coil of a silken snake through his thoughts. It seemed as if the words never actually traveled through the air, they were simply....there in his mind from one instant to the next. “You don't think that is air you are breathing do you?” The creature of a man turned to face her, his eyes locked in a battle with her own. “Considering I'm dead....I imagine not.” He flashed her a rather sadistic looking smile in return. The feeling of the pull towards life grew stronger, more insistent but the second force keeping him here matched its strength.
The woman vanished before him and Sarthas frowned slightly as she reappeared beside him, leaning on his left shoulder with her arm. “Oh don't worry, I promise there will be pain in the near future.” The man shot his own arm out to brush her off of him but instead struck something impossibly solid. Turning his head his frown deepened as he noted she had stopped his entire arm with her single index finger. “But first lets have a little fun.”
Somehow, the tone in her voice alone sent shivers through his soul. Slipping from his side, she lifted the same finger that had halted his earlier assault and tapped on thin air. The emptiness in front of her shimmered and rippled as if she had touched the surface of a pond, blurring for a moment before clearing once again. Only this time, it did not show the dull gray landscape, this time it showed something else, something that made Sarthas turn to a block of stone. There before him was an image of a burned and blackened little body laying face down on dry cracked gray earth. Small tuffs of hair dotted her head here and there and her body was covered in bits and pieces of blue and white fabric, what remained of dress. But what drew his eyes the most, were the two terrible gashes that covered her back. “You fool.” He hissed through clenched teeth before he could stop himself. Even as disfigured as she had become he knew her, for he could never forget her no matter how much he wished it so.
“Yes, it is rather amusing isn't it.” The demonic woman had appeared at his opposite side now, with her hands clasped behind her back. She leaned in so close, her lips nearly pressed against his ear, mirroring what he had done himself so many times in the past. “An angel ripped off her own wings and crawled here after her older brother who had abandoned her.” She chuckled in a very disturbing laugh. “But then it doesn't matter to you right.” Sarthas's mind was reeling. This wasn't the way it was suppose to be, she wasn't suppose to be here. Everything depended on the fact that Celest was not here. That is why he had done what he had done, no sane person would have followed him after that. “Of course not...” He fought to keep his voice level, to force down the panic that was rising inside. “She is nothing but a fool that does not belong here. You might as well send her back before someone upstairs gets upset with you.” His words didn't have the effect he hoped they would, she only laughed again.
“Come, come, now, she belongs here just as much as you do.” Appearing in front of him she rested a single hand on her left hip, leaning in slightly with what would have been a very sexually alluring pose. Had she not been promising to damn the only thing he had ever truly cared about. “One big happy family.” She added with that sadistic smile. Something inside Sarthas snapped, creating ripples that echoed throughout his soul. A feeling of boundless rage bubbled up from the deepest depths of his being. “You can't have her...” His words were dripping in venom. Sarthas had never felt so angry, so out of control. His life was control. Every facet of it was devoted to maintaining that control and yet now, now none of it mattered.
Suddenly, a third force jerked at his soul nearly ripping him from this plane of existence. If it hadn't been for what held him there combined with his own will he would have been whisked away. He began to fade in and out, the the edges of his soul blurring lightly. The smile vanished from the demon's lips and she shot out a hand, catching his arm, her touch was agony beyond belief as she burned her hand print into his very essence. “I didn't say you could leave.” Apparently he wasn't the only one that was angry. Both forces, pulling him back toward life twisted into one another becoming far stronger. It felt as if his soul was being ripped apart, but the only thing that he could focus on was the tortured body of the little girl in the shimmering image.
The demon redoubled her effort and for a moment it felt as if she would win against these mysterious other forces. Then the final piece entered the field. A demonic dog wreathed in flames materialized and suddenly attacked his captor. She easily swatted the creature aside but it came on again and again with mindless relentless fury. She could not destroy it, as she was so focused on holding his soul in place. With her attention divided she began to loose the battle over her new toy. "No.." He echoed a word spoken by his sister not so long ago. A word just as defiant, just as resilient and with an unshakable will that could not be broken. He would not fail, not after he was so close, not after all he had sacrificed. As her grip began to slip, Sarthas tore his eyes from the image and shot his free hand forward catching her arm. The pain of her touch was magnified ten fold now that he was in contact with her twice over. There was a moment of surprise on her face as he brushed the pain away as if it were only a slight irritation and added his own strength to the confrontation. Closer and closer he brought his body, his will iron and unyielding in the face of greater powers.
The hell hound continued to attack her and she continued to swat it away with her free hand like an insect that she could easily deal with under any normal circumstance but as it was, she was unfocused. Her attention was divided between both holding his soul in place and dealing with this new irritation. She could do nothing about Sarthas's sudden press, though she truly didn't see a reason to. After all the foolish man was only helping her seal his fate but something happened next that she did not expect, something that in the time that followed would shatter her carefully laid plans and send her orderly world into chaos. It would not only define Sarthas's fate but her own as well. With a sudden serge forward he at last managed to pull himself into her. His mind exploded in utter agony with the now full body contact. His face was less than an inch from her own as he stared into her eyes. Fire danced in the earthen brown tone of his orbs and he spoke his final words, seething in fury beyond compare. “Remember these eyes....for they will be the first and last thing you see when I return.” The tiniest flicker of something danced in the demon's silvery hews and she released her grip. The man's soul vanished from existence, pulled from her plane by forces she had not expected. The demonic hound disappeared as well, its task complete. She stood there, alone on the grey empty planes. Staring off into the blackness, her face a blank unreadable mask. Had that emotion truly been what she thought it was? The impossibility of such a thing made her shake her head in amusement. No human could have done that to the Queen of the Seventh Circle of Hell. And twisted or not....Sarthas was only human....wasn't he?
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Sarthas awoke, to find himself in his own grave. The body of the hell hound pressed down on him in a confining way, like the lid of a coffin. It was heavy but he easily pushed it aside. The vicious wound in his chest remained in testament to his death, yet he was here. He felt cold, empty. As if part of him was bound in another place. Several parts of him in fact. Both in this world and the next. Slowly, he climbed out of his tomb. The sun had long since set, an entire day had passed, or had it been several days? To him the battle of wills had lasted only minutes but here it was far longer. It was hard to tell just how much had passed as the river of time did not move at the same pace on all planes of existence. All that he was certain, was it was much later and he was alone, save for the rotting corpse of the mysterious hound that had preformed its task to the end. He had returned, but for what purpose? Why had he been torn from hell to wander this wrenched world once more? Why was he here, when she was not? Sarthas scowled as the burning anger would not die.
A cold wind whipped against the torn remains of his shirt, cutting into his dead skin like a knife through the heart. Gripping his now wild brown hair he screamed in rage. His voice echoing into the darkness. The image of the demonic woman flashed into his mind as she tortured a small child's soul. He screamed again in hatred, running his fingernails down the sides of his face, cutting into his skin. No blood came, there was none left to bleed. He was nothing more than another corpse to add to this graveyard. A heart that continued to beat in futility, its purpose now gone as his veins were only filled with dry crimson that had once been full of life. His body continued to respond as if it were alive, his organs refusing to give up their life long duty, yet he was as dead as all those around him in this forsaken graveyard of the damned. Preserved perhaps, his flesh unable to rot as if the laws of nature no longer held sway over this man, yet dead non the less. He was an evil bound to the earth for a purpose that he must fulfill. His life had been lived in service to the darkness in the hearts of others and now it seemed that even in death he would be chained to this fate. He turned his eyes towards the flickering of warm light in the distance, purpose filling the inferno of the blackness that now lived in those eyes. Fate's chains would not hold him long, for he had a new purpose. They would pay...all of them. Heaven for abandoning her, hell for condemning her. It mattered not that he was only a single damned soul he would find a way. He would pile the bodies of this world upon one another until the stench of it reached to heavens gates and choked the lot of them. He would scale the pits of hell and tear that demon's soul asunder as well as any who stood in his way. The taint of madness flashed in his eyes as he screamed again in soul-shattering rage.
At last silence took him as he listened to the echo of his voice and emotions for what seemed an endless passage of time. His breath came in ragged quick bursts, though his body no longer craved air his lungs remembered the need. Words bled from his pale lips to the emptiness of the cold night air. “I will be the last....” A promise to himself, yet one he could never keep as he vanished into the darkness, a darkness that seemed to define his existence.
(Exit Thread)