I Hate Them

We returned to formation, encircling the heartstone, waiting for whatever horrors hell would unleash next. Forsane, his face pale but determined, resummoned his dagger, the magical blade shimmering into existence.

I scanned the ruins, my senses on high alert. The throbbing pain in my wounded eye was a constant reminder of the demon's power, a testament to the dangers that lurked within hell.

Behind us, the heartstone pulsed with a growing intensity, it's construction nearing completion.

"Do you think that's it?" Forsane's voice, though strained, held a flicker of hope.

Silence hung heavy in the air for a moment, broken only by the crackling energy of the heartstone.

"I think it might b-"

My words were cut off by a sharp, sucking sound that seemed to tear through the very fabric of reality. We spun around, searching for the source of the disturbance, our hearts pounding in our chests.

And then we saw it.

A grotesque figure materialized before us, more terrifying than any demon we had encountered thus far. Its sheer size was enough to send shivers down our spines, but it was its appearance that truly horrified us.

It stood twice my height, its skin a sickly grey, melting and dripping from its bones like rot. Its limbs were skeletal, devoid of muscle, and strands of greasy grey hair clung to its skull.

A gaping hole in its chest revealed a hollow cavity where its heart should have been. Recognition dawned on me, and a wave of nausea washed over me.

"The man in the chair," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

The others realised too, their faces etched with horror. It was undoubtedly him, but transformed into something monstrous, something truly demonic. The man in the chair had been a mere puppet, an imitation of his true form.

"Feed me!" it shrieked, with a voice that echoed through the ruins. Its arm was outstretched towards the heartstone, as though he awaited an offering.

"So this was the true aim of the ritual," Anabelle whimpered, clinging to her sister. "He wanted to use human souls to start the ritual and grow a heart for himself."

Her voice was filled with realisation.

"Feed me!" the creature roared again. "And I will take whoever hands me the heartstone to the third layer of hell. The Eternal Crucible."

The offer hung in the air. My stomach churned with a sickening mix of anger and despair.

No, Anabelle, I thought, my mind reeling. We've misunderstood this game from the very beginning.

A surge of fury coursed through me, but I forced myself to remain calm.

"What do you mean by that?" I demanded, "That you will take whoever brings you the heart to the third layer?"

The demons face looked as if it wished to laugh, but it's form wouldn't allow him to.

"I mean what I said," it rasped. "Whoever brings me the heartstone and places it within my chest will gain access to the third layer. There is no other way."

I had anticipated this before asking the question. Behind me, the heartstone pulsed one last time, its transformation complete. It no longer radiated light; instead, it resembled a human heart, though enlarged and dark in colour.

I spun around, reaching for the heartstone, but Dominil's hand shot out, batting mine away.

"Are you crazy, Rade!" he snarled, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you going to trust a demon of hell?"

I ignored him, reaching for the heartstone again, only to then have Forsane block my path.

I backed away from the altar, my gaze locked on the two men who now stood guard. The sisters cowered behind them, their faces pale with fear.

The demon watched, the gaping hole in its chest yearning for the heartstone.

"Just step aside," I growled, my voice low and dangerous. "I need this more than any of you."

The truth was, I didn't want to fight them. But I would do whatever it took to conquer hell, to avenge my parents. My honour demnaded if.

Forsane's face twisted with rage.

"You're a fool, Rade, a complete fool! This demon has already tricked us once, and now it asks you to betray your allies, and you blindly obey? Think about what you're doing!"

I was thinking, but not about whether I was making the right decision. I was calculating how to fight against multiple opponents at once. How to reach the heartstone and deliver it to the demon before they could stop me.

These men weren't my allies. They had only tolerated me because the ritual demanded it.

When given the chance, they would abandon me, just like everyone else had on Vorth, because I was different,

because of these horns…

I lunged at Dominil. He was the strongest; I had to take him out first. The wolf-man met my charge, his claws bared.

As he swung his clawed hand, I instinctively curled my right wing into a protective barrier. His claws raked across the surface, sending a searing pain through my wing, worse than the agony in my eye.

With a powerful flap, I struck Dominil, sending him sliding back on his feet across the stone floor.

"You're making a mistake, Rade! We can still change this!" Forsane shouted, but his words were lost on me.

I charged again, and this time, Dominil was on the defensive, wary of my newfound power.

He raised a weak guard, and I slammed my wing into him, but to my surprise, he managed to grab hold of it.

He held on tight, his enhanced strength pulling me off balance. He started to swing me around, intending to hurl me across the ruins.

No. No, no!

I flapped my wing with all my might,

struggling against his grip, but it was no use. He was too strong. He slammed me to the ground, my face scraping against the stone, adding fresh wounds to my battered body.

I need something. Anything!

As desperation clawed at me, I felt that familiar tingling sensation in my back.

Suddenly, I had control. My left wing twitched, and with a desperate surge of power, I slammed it into Dominil's face.

The blow sent him reeling backward, his grip loosening. I was free.

With both wings now under my command, a surge of adrenaline coursed through me.

The blow had sent Dominil stumbling away from the heartstone, and I seized the opportunity, charging towards it.

"Not so fast!" Forsane yelled as he made to intercept me, his dagger flashing. He was prepared to take my life.

But I had seen his attack pattern before, during his possession under the demonic skull. He was a one dimensional swordsman.

As he swung for my neck as I predicted, I ducked low, the blade whistling harmlessly over my head.

I grabbed Forsane's waist, pulling him close, and drove my horns into his chest.

A sickening crunch echoed through the ruins as my horns pierced his ribcage, impaling his heart.

He was dead. There was no doubt, or need to confirm.

Blood splattered onto my head, mingling with the gore from previous battles, staining my vision crimson.

Screams erupted around me. Lanelle and Anabelle cried out in anguish, and Dominil roared in fury.

They rushed towards me, Lanelle's hands ablaze, ready to incinerate me with her curse of flames.

But I didn't hesitate. I reached out and grabbed the heartstone, its cold, pulsating energy surging through my blood-soaked hands.

The world around me dissolved into a swirling vortex of colors and shapes. Reality twisted and contorted, and then, just as suddenly, it snapped back into place.

I stood alone by the altar, the heartstone clutched tightly in my hand. The others were gone. Vanished into thin air.

"Thank you, demon boy," a raspy voice echoed through the ruins. "You have completed the Forsaken Ritual."

I turned around, to see the monstrous creature, its empty chest gaping, and it's skeletal hand pointing to where his heart should be.

I wasn't alone after all. I stood with a demon, and it was waiting for me.