Warning: The follow contains gore that some may find unsettling, read onwards at your own discretion.
And now, sit. The boy twisted around, eyes darting to every corner of the room as he tried to locate the voice that had echoed around the place. It took him a moment to realise that his scanning for its source was fruitless, for it hadn't come booming through his ear, it had reverberated through his very being, crashing against his mind and soul as though it were a winter storm trying to breach the fortress of his mind.
"No." A noise similar to amusement seemed to bounce through his mind, a cruel and mocking sound that seemed to belittle him in just in making of the noise itself.
"
Brave little creature, you fail to realise the depth of your position now." The boy twisted around, trying to escape the voice dripping with malice in his mind.
He froze suddenly, staring at the far wall. Where before there had been empty air there now sat two burning points of fire and light, hate and domination. He tried to turn aside to avoid looking at the horrific image only for the flaming orbs to follow him, no matter where he looked, Brenhins eyes were fixed behind his eyes and before them. "
You see, little one, I own you now. You cannot defy me, not forever. Now, sit." There was a pull at the edges of his mind, a compulsion that screamed at him for fighting it. The edges of his vision turned a sickly orange even as the orbs of burning fire melted away from his vision. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the desire of his legs to crumble out from under him, all he had to do was focus, focus and resist and the voice couldn't command him, the drive couldn't force him to do what he did not wish.
This silent battle continued timelessly, with the boy standing fixed in one spot, teeth gritted and eyes tensed at having to focus so very hard against the Demon in his mind. And yet he could feel that Brenhin was almost mocking him, not even trying to force him to obey, as though he were trying to give him a sense of false hope that he could actually win. The boy pushed those thoughts aside as he tried to focus on very much not sitting down, even though the mocking presence continued to push against him.
The battle of wills was broken all of a sudden by the sound of the door being unlocked and the tramping of thick boots as men poured into the room, armed with far too many weapons than was necessary to contain a simple boy. They pushed the startled boy up against the wall and forcefully turned him around, pinning his arms behind his back before the cold touch of metal locked around his wrists, weighing them down with what must only be handcuffs. "
Comply with their wishes, my messenger, do not resist and this shall all be over swiftly. Things are moving apace and you shall soon be free to go about your business."
He was certainly in no position to argue against the wishes of the Demon Lord this time, though true he could perhaps try to run, or kick out against the guards as they pulled him backwards and forced him out of the small cell that had housed him, what good would it do? He was surrounded on all sides by men armed with automatic weapons that would tear him apart in an instant. If he ran they could kill him without even moving, if he fought then one of them would shoot him in the back, his only thought of solace being that his death could mean the destruction of the Demon sitting inside him. But even then, he couldn't be sure that would be the way of things, for all he knew the Demon would escape unnoticed and nobody would suspect a thing. As much as it boiled in his gut to have to so much as carry this Demon even a single step let allow carry out its wishes he knew that his being free to hunt the Demon after this little message of his was sent.
As they crossed into the open courtyard, blinking against the morning sun, his eyes darted across the floor, his mind coming up with all the possible ways he was going to have to escape. They didn't looking good, too much open ground for him to try to cross and to be shot down on. And then his eyes landed on a small group of people, no more than nine of them, watching him. And he could feel a sense of elation coming from Brenhin inside of him. There was a joy and a hate in there both, and it scared him more than he cared to admit.
"
Halt, it is time." Those dark eyes glowered once more from behind the boys vision, the searing pain returned to compel him to obey the Demon Lords command.
"
I can't just stop, they'll kill me" He winced internally, his foot catching on the floor, causing him to stumble. One foot crashed into the other as he tried to stop himself falling flat on his face with his hands bound behind his back. But it was this lapse in concentration that finally cast down the walls of his will power that had up until now kept Brenhin at bay.
Now, so suddenly having his mind twisted away from putting up the mental walls needed to protect himself from the Demons corrupting influence he could feel the icy claws of dominion latch onto the confines of his mind and against his own violation his whole body stiffened. It felt as though he were constantly falling, there was a sense of disconnect from his body as though everything was rising and falling all at once. His gut squirmed painfully as it warped in all directions. His throat clenched tightly and drily as it burned in his neck. He felt as though he were about to be sick and shit himself both at the same time. All this pain and discomfort combined together and he was sure that it was Brenhins doing to make him feel this in all it's terribleness.
"
What are you doing?"
"
Why, conveying my message of course. I must commend you on being both courier and parchment." That disconnect grew suddenly so much worse. He could feel the wind against his face, feel the chill in the air, feel the pain in his gut as it burned at him, could feel his eyes start to scream at him as they dried but could not blink. He couldn't even twitch, his whole body rejected him, though he could still feel it. It was as though he were a passenger within a puppet, there was no sense of control any more. He could feel his body though could not command it and horribly it dawned on him that this was entirely what Brenhin wanted him to feel.
A laugh began to grow within the boys chest, a lazy smile twisted across his lips as his eyes stared blindly forwards. The guards around him looked at him, obvious concern spreading across their features as they tightened their grips on their personal weapons. The chuckle grew as it spilled from his lips, pouring out across the courtyard in it's growing madness. And then he could feel as much as hear a voice that was somewhere between his own and the Demons own bassy tones echo from his throat.
"
Pathetic, weak, frail things. Strange how Humanity has grown so tall and yet remained so weak. So easily twisted by your betters. Hmmm, yes, twisted... Allow me to demonstrate how twisted we can make you."
He could feel the Demons puppeteer fingers grasp hold of his body, shaking the looseness out of his limbs suddenly. He shoulders tensed and there was the feeling of his arms straightening behind his back and lifting, raising towards the sky. Inevitably they met the resistance of his bodies natural limitations... And kept going. Discomfort instantly gave way to horrible pain as Brenhin twisted his arms higher than they shoulder ever go, his shoulder blades began to squeal as they grated against each other. And he could feel it all, every single iota of agony as his bones pushed together, felt his skin and muscle tear, feel the warm blood dripping down his armpits as his flesh pull itself apart.
There was a sudden and harsh crack and pop then ended the screeching of bone against bone and projected his arms forwards. His shoulders were now entirely twisted around the wrong way, the bone jutting out of the bleeding cavities at his joints. As the bone popped and tore itself apart as his joints were spun around in a way that no Human could ever endure the pain allowed him some sense of control of his body once more. He pitched forwards, crashing down onto his knees as a blood curdling scream tore from his lips. The tears of pain that had been welling in his eyes falling from his face to splatter through the crimson blood that pattered on the floor. He was only given the briefest of respites, as though the Demon that had so totally consumed control of his body was savouring his agony like some fine wine. It was to be taken in small, carefully controlled mouthfuls, not chugged down like cheap booze.
Apparently deciding it was time for another sensual sip of this delicate wine of human suffering, the boy could feel the Demon lifting his arms which should be entirely unable to even twitch in their ruination. The pain only grew as his bound hands stretched out and began to revolve inwards towards his chest, then arced upwards, bringing his elbows crashing together. He silently pleaded within his iron cage of pain locked away within the confines of his mind, that Brenhin would stop here. He had conveyed his message, he didn't need to go any further. But the Demon wasn't even listening, other than to enjoy his screams of agony as they bled forth from his lips.
Against the flex of the boys joints the arms twisted once more. The pain he had felt ripping his shoulders around felt only more concentrated now as his elbows loudly popped, the cartilage being the first thing to break as it visibly snapped through his tendons. Then with a sloppy crack his elbows shattered in a sputter of bone and blood and marrow as they tore open to allow his ruined arms to continue to twist around. There was hardly enough blood in his arms now for them to bleed as heavily as they had before, the scarlet puddle around his knees spreading as blood pooled around him in growing rivets and flows. And yet despite the damage done the arms continued to twist, hands hanging limply and loosely from within their locked containers. Something had to give, the already damaged shoulders that continued to rip and tear noisily as the brutally torn flesh constricted against itself or the steal cuffs that bound the boys wrists.
It was hardly surprisingly then that the boys right shoulder was the first to go, ripping free with a sickening noise that sprayed droplets of blood across the ground as the meaty appendage slammed into the ground. The boy continued to scream in the blinding pain, not being allowed even a single respite from it as his left arm continued to rotate until it too tore itself from his body. Blood poured down his sides, his shirt already taken more than the fabric could ever hope to drink up. The pain certainly didn't subside now that his limbs had been torn from their sockets, rather now he had simply less to focus on. Rather than two burning brands of white hot iron he simple had two discs of indescribable agony.
If he had thought such things brought his pain to an end though he was sadly mistaken. Blood suddenly stopped flowing from his empty shoulders and instead a thin black mist began to pour from his veins instead. But rather than drift off into the open sky as mist should it began to coalesce into two thin tendrils that twisted around, lacing through his shirt and tearing the blood soaked cloth off him. His chest was made bare as the tendrils slithered down his back, the Mark glowing brightly for all to see. As the tendrils made contact with his skin of his back from the third rib down the flesh began to peel as though it were a carrot under a knife blade. Blood seeped down his back as the skin rolled along under the touch of the gruesome black tendrils. They halted just above the boys hips and like some feeding squid they raised and then stabbed into the boys back.
They dug deep into his body, he could feel it against even the pain in his shoulders and the agony of his back as the flesh had been parted, pouring blood into the open air. He could feel the muscle of his hips being pushed apart from the inside, feel the tendrils drilling into the bone itself. There was a sound not unlike that of an ancient oak falling to the ground and the pain stretched across his hips, down his legs and back up again over and over and over until with a horrible wrench both legs were torn from their housing, spraying blood in every direction as the limbs were cast into the air, flying far apart. The boy would have pitched forward on his screaming face had the tendrils not planted themselves into the ground, forcing the bleeding, ruined torso to remain rooted to the spot.
Were the boy able to house any form of coherent thought he would no doubt beg for it to end, crying out in desperation for any kind of mercy that the cruel Demon Lord would give him. And in response all he would get back would be the mocking laughter of one so drunk on his own power over someone he could never let it go. Instead though the boy was caught writing in the prison of his own mind as he screamed and bellowed and mentally tore at himself to try and find some form of escape in the content of his own mind. There was none to be found now, not from Brenhin, not for him.
His bare chest began to hiss and bubble as though it were being subjected to an intense heat. The fleshy bubbles grew not just in size but in number as they spread across his bare torso, as they burst small pockets of the thick black smoke drifted out of them and raised upwards, slicing the skin of his jaw and cheek as they passed and halted around his skull before becoming small needles and plunging themselves into the boys flesh, protruding out as they twisted in different directions. From inside his own chest a mass of shadows pushed the now exposed ribs outwards slightly, the bones cracking and splintering against the sudden force. As more of his flesh bubbled and melted away more of his bloody ribs were exposed and the force pushed out again, this time though there was nothing to restrain the damaged bone and like a bomb exploding they shattered outwards, sending shards scattering across the stone floor. His ribs didn't explode outwards alone however as his now only partially covered gut was torn open too spitting his intestines out across from him in a gruesome rope of blood and gore and ruined human that splattered loudly as bile seeped from the perforated organs, now long past use.
In the gaping space where once organs sat so tightly and neatly now there was only blood and sinew and pain. The boys stomach had been split open by a shard of bone and acid hissed away at his exposed flesh. His lungs were perforated like a sponge and black smoke poured out of them as they hissed in the open air. His heart still beat an irregular pattern though it had turned a corrupted sickly black, the flesh of the bloody organ cracking like a charred ham as it beat it's unsteady rhythm. The boy the inexpiable agony in steady waves as his screams fell silent, his throat bloody where his vocal cords had finally ripped, the force of his tortured screams silencing them forever. He realised then, though he should have died a dozen times over that the Demon was keeping him alive, sustaining him to endure every iota of pain. Every drop of blood was another syllable in his horrible twisted messages. He was the message, not as a human, but as a torn and twisted pile of meat that had ultimately reduced itself to nothing more than a mess of flesh that could not even hope to sustain itself. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop it, Brenhin was too great, too powerful, too much for anyone to hope to crush. His ruined body was testament to that horrific message, nobody could ever defeat the Demon that could be lurking within any of them. Humanity was doomed, they were all doomed, everything was going to end in smoke and ash and the Demon would preside over the blasted remains until time ran dry.
His thoughts of the apocalypse were drowned out by some fresh hell as a gagging, clogging feeling began to run it's way up his ruined throat as though a horde of frogs were attempting to crawl up his gullet. Those that were brave enough or horrified enough to still be able to look at the ruined creature would see the bulges of some unknown entity as it pushed itself upwards. Then as it reached the boys adams apple it emerged. Rocketing from between his lips was a vast pillar of shadow, so sudden was the force of it's emergence as the five foot long appendage burst from the confines of his throat that the already agape jaw was thrown open so sharply that it all but ripped from his face. The boys cheeks tore apart like tender pork and there was as sharp popping sound as his jaw followed suit, hanging limply and loosely from under where the head had been snapped backwards. The boys eyes were locked in abject terror as fingers spread from the arm like the sprouting of some grim flower in the spring. An elbow joint snapped into existence on the black pillar and like a striking scorpion to moved at speed belying its size, the hand grasping tightly onto the upper portions of his remaining skull.
There was a twisted sound of bone cracking inwards under the strength of the black fingers under suddenly, as though it were a vaulting platform the unseen creature used the small, broken head to pull itself up and in a single gory flash what remained of the boys broken form exploded in a mess of ruined flesh and shattered bone and stringy sinew that splattered itself all around. The boys head was obliterated, finally ending the unimaginable torture once and for all as the Demon Lord emerged once more. The Demon, who's body was made of nothing but thick smoke so dense it seemed as strong as blackened steel rose tall into the air, billowing up to a great height that towered over the buildings. His arms stretched out and twisted as he almost flexed, seemingly proud of his horrific execution. His head twisted down to look at the Seven on the ground below him, well aware the stench that accompanied his form would be choking them, the smell of burning tar and rotting flesh was bad enough alone, let alone without the entrance he had caused.
Though no other fire coursed through his shadowy form, his eyes lit up in a deep orange blaze for just a moment as he beheld the gathered Seven. A twisted grin split across his dark face as he raised higher, long, thin, batlike wings stretched out from his back and pulled him even higher into the air.
"
So easily broken. So easily manipulated. So easily terrified. You creatures are hardly worth the effort to control. But allow this most humble of demonstrations tell you of one simple thing. No matter where you run, no matter where you hide, no matter how deep the hole you creatures dig yourselves into, nor how many soldiers separate you and I, I shall find you. You shall never know my coming, little creatures, for who can you truly trust in this world? Who even in this organisation who have so kindly taken you in against your will can you truly trust? Who can you know is free from...." The gigantic Demon Lord twisted forwards, his horrific face of shadow and darkness coming close to the ground and only intensifying the stench. "
Deceit?" A deep, grating laugh echoed throughout the colossal form of the shadowy Demon Lord before his form suddenly lost all consistency and the smoke exploded outwards, spilling into the street before drifting into the sky and dissipating into the air. Were it not for the lingering stench and the ruined mess of the boy on the stones it would appear Brenhin had never even been there.