There is a moment, brief and fleeting, where every being feels like they stand above all others. A single moment where power surges, and the universe seems small under their feet. Some call it a godly moment. But sometimes, in that very moment, a god can be mistaken for a devil—especially when he rains hell upon the lower beings beneath him.
***
The golden bulb flickered ominously in the dim hut, casting long shadows over the wreckage that filled the room. The silence was deafening, more suited for the dead than the living. Broken furniture lay scattered, overturned tables and chairs soaked in blood, and body parts—limbs, rib cages, organs—littered the floor like grotesque decorations.
The metallic stench of death hung in the air, mingling with the rot of fresh corpses. It was not simply a massacre. To call it such would be a gross understatement.
The walls of the hut were barely holding up, cracked and crumbling under the weight of destruction. The survivors, if they could be called that, huddled on the floor, their faces wet with tears, their voices reduced to pitiful whispers of pleading.
"Please... don't kill us..."
A man, no older than thirty, sobbed hysterically. His back pressed against the cracked wall, his trembling hands clutching his chest as if it would somehow shield him from the demon before him. His heart pounded against his ribs, every thud a reminder of how alive he still was—and how close he was to losing that precious gift.
He regretted everything in that moment: the life he'd wasted on trivial pursuits, the choices he'd made, the fact he ever entered this cursed hut.
"Monster! Mummy, help me!" Another man screamed, snot and tears mingling on his face as he scraped himself further into the corner. He was shaking uncontrollably, the weight of his impending doom crushing him. Every fiber of his being told him to run, but his legs wouldn't listen. All he could do was pray for a miracle that would never come.
In the center of the room stood the source of their terror: a towering figure, a man no longer human. His frame was massive, a distorted silhouette that radiated an aura of decay so overpowering it made the air thick and suffocating. His eyes glowed red with malevolence, and the dark, viscous energy that surrounded him writhed like a living entity, twisting and slithering around him like shadows.
The man's body was covered in blood, drenched in it, as if he had bathed in the life essence of the people he had slaughtered.
Rowin sat amidst the chaos, his legs crossed on broken glass, his gaze distant yet accepting. He didn't bother to move, didn't bother to beg for his life. Today, he had met something that transcended monsters. He had encountered the true definition of a devil. He felt no hatred toward the creature before him, only a hollow understanding.
This was it—his death, in the hands of a being beyond his comprehension.
His gaze shifted upward, locking onto the demon's face—Axel. Or what had once been Axel. Now, he was a demonic presence, lost in bloodlust, holding two severed heads by their hair, blood dripping rapidly from the disconnected bodies. Rowin's breath hitched. A wave of nausea and hunger hit him at once.
His instincts begged for blood, for the taste of flesh, but he resisted with everything he had left of his humanity. He wouldn't fall to that urge. Not now.
"But the worst part is..." Axel's voice trailed off, dark and quiet. He shrugged, eyes glinting in the pale moonlight. "The worst part is... I enjoyed it. I actually enjoyed ending their lives."
Rowin's heart sank at Axel's admission, his own stomach turning. Axel didn't just lose control—he relished it.
***
"Why? Why the hell have you done this!?" Velerium's voice boomed across the void, full of rage and desperation as he glared at the shadowy figure before him. His ethereal form trembled with barely contained fury. Watching Axel tear apart innocent humans had ignited a fury within him that even he struggled to contain.
The shadowy figure grinned, revealing rows of sharp, glistening teeth. "I did it for his improvement, of course."
"Improvement?!" Velerium's voice cracked with outrage. His hands clenched into fists as he stepped forward. "You *murdered* the original final enemy of the trial and replaced him with Mictlantecuhtli! You've cursed Axel with a parasitic burden that will devour his humanity, driving him into madness! And you call that improvement!?"
The figure remained unfazed, shrugging lazily. "What's happened to you, Velerium? You've gone soft. This human vessel you're attached to is making you weak. You and Mictlantecuhtli were giving him a way out—too easy. But me?
I made sure he *earned* his power. You should be thanking me!"
Velerium growled low in his throat, his energy flaring with anger. "You've broken him! He's losing himself to the darkness inside, and if he falls, it's on *your* hands! You've damned him!"
"Have I, though?" The shadowy figure's grin widened. "The other vessels are coming. And Axel is far from ready to face them. I had to break him to make him stronger, more resilient. This is for his own good."
Velerium knew there was no point in arguing further. His chest ached as he felt his own power weakening, his soul too entwined with Axel's fate. He had feared this would happen—that Axel would lose himself, his humanity slipping away with every cursed power he gained. Velerium's time was running out. His soul was draining faster than he had anticipated.
"I might not have much time left," Velerium muttered, turning away from the grinning figure. "But I'll do everything I can to break the curse. I won't let you win."
As he vanished into the shadows, Velerium made a silent promise. No matter the cost, he would save Axel from the curse that threatened to consume him whole. Your next chapter is on m v|l-e'-novelhall.net
***Me Note***
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