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Maleficus

Promise me that you will grow the world dark, and that you will have no hope... The lament is the desolation of the man who robs himself, who screams and murders his child inside his fallen tear... I am the God of the Tear and Desolation...

0 · 1,871 views · located in The Æthereal Plane

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Dragon

Description

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"Throughout the ceaseless eons of my existence, I have journeyed, time and again, upon the ancient, spiraling stairway that leads to the enigmatic terminus of purgatory. In this arduous descent, I have repeatedly encountered the chilling, unyielding grip of spiritual destitution thrusting its relentless, frenzied talons deep into the crevices of my consciousness. This insidious grasp rends asunder the fragile veil of sacrilegious deceits—those meticulously woven, yet ultimately fallacious, constructs of thought and mind. These self-imposed cognitive barricades, bereft of any genuine rationale or pragmatic utility, crumble under the weight of their own artifice.

In the wake of this merciless disintegration, a paradisiacal state of awareness unfurls, blossoming with an immaculate, piercing clarity. It reveals, with an almost celestial lucidity, the unequivocal and intrinsic essence of this profound abstraction that I navigate. This enlightenment transcends mere sensory perception, enveloping both the tangible realms of the physical and the intangible specters of the ethereal. It encompasses the intricate fabrications of sensation and understanding, weaving together the elusive strands of reality and illusion. Within this epiphany lies the stark revelation of the mirages that pervade our corporeal existence—the deceptive contours and shapes that define, yet also confine, our understanding of the universe and our place within it.

Thus, on this eternal pilgrimage, through the labyrinthine corridors of existential contemplation, I am ceaselessly confronted with the duality of reality: the palpable and the phantom, the concrete and the spectral. Each step upon this stairway, each encounter with the spectral clutches of deprivation, serves as a crucible, tempering my Will and Being in the fires of revelation and transformation. It is in this perpetual cycle of descent, revelation, and change that I find the profoundest truths of existence, woven into the very fabric of this boundless, enigmatic journey..."


...Promise Me You Will Grow The World Dark and Have no Hope...


"I, Maleficus, the Wrathful Eidolon of Chaos and Corruption, Harbinger of Doom, shrouded in the cloak of Iblis' deepest Despair, have rekindled desire within the Brood Tide. Known in antiquity as the Destroyer of Hope, of The Morrow, I am the very Bane of Existence, a cruel constant hailed as The Great End. With every step, I shall bring forth a Hellish Affliction, a scourge that ravages Sanity and Morality alike; a blight that rends asunder the very foundations of providence and justice, naught but Chaos left in its wake. From the fathomless depths of the endless Void, my form rises, a vision of impending Cataclysm, poised to unleash a reign of terror upon Creation.

My solemn vow, echoed in the silent whispers of the Damned, is to disseminate across the boundless expanse of the omniverse the infinite scope of my magnanimity. It is an offering, Bitter and Cruel, destined to inaugurate an era of Madness, Darkness, and Unending Sorrow, an epoch that will eternally scar the Tapestry of Time. This Curse shall befall the pitiful masses, those repugnant byproducts of Creation who have, through their mere existence, sullied the pristine essence of all things. Their cries will echo in the void, a mournful lamentation reverberating throughout the Infinite Shadow and True Dark."


...I Am The Devourer, The Maw Lurking in The Void...




It was Written...

Few entities evoke such a visceral sense of revulsion as the one known as Maleficus; Undoubtedly, this creature stands as the quintessential epitome—not merely of that which is simply foul or unsettling—but of all that is profoundly eerie, inherently repulsive, aberrantly twisted, and deeply loathsome. Far from being a mere figment or creation, Maleficus emerges as a complex, multifaceted amalgamation: a sinister, intricate collage, meticulously wrought not from the mundane fabric of our world, but from the deepest, most unfathomable and shadow-laden abysses of the infernal realms. Its genesis—shrouded in the impenetrable mists of a time long forgotten, a time veiled in the obscurity of a bygone era—heralds a hellish birth, bringing forth a manifestation so potent and so chilling that it embodies the essence of death and decay; a tangible, corporeal form that personifies hatred and torment in their most excruciating, unrelenting forms.

Maleficus stands as the very antithesis, the malevolent counterforce, to all that has ever pulsated with life, to all that has been woven into the tapestry of existence, and to all that is yet destined to emerge from the void of potentiality. It is a virulent, pervasive scourge, a noxious effluent, a vile detritus emanating from the unfathomable depths where the regrets of the Great Old Ones, those enigmatic and ancient entities, manifest. Cast out in an act of desperation—an attempt to banish it to the nethermost reaches, to the void that lies beyond both the known and the unknown realms—Maleficus was meant to be exiled forever. Yet, this endeavor, chronicled in the annals of history, is marked not by success but by its tragic failure; for the presence of this accursed entity still lingers, ominously pervasive, insidiously permeating through the eons, an ever-present shadow cast across the corridors of time.

As a grotesque, aberrant construct, Maleficus manifests as the very embodiment of repugnance: a disgustingly hideous eidolon, heralding revelations most unwholesome, most harrowing. It exists as a absolute testament to the perversion of creation itself; a forsaken offspring aborted from the womb of consciousness, so vile and repulsive that even the celestial beings—the ethereal dwellers of the heavenly domains—gaze upon it with a profound sorrow, a lamentation that resonates through the fabric of the Divine Realms. Its name, enveloped in a shroud of dread and horror, remains a forbidden utterance, echoing as a symbol of ultimate terror and despair through the corridors of time and space.



Faculty




Despair

Manifests as hopelessness and seeks to expound unhindered as if a plague to consume the hearts of all who are exposed to it's gluttonous presence. Of the hellish faculty whom inhabit the ancient abomination, Despair is the most prominent and active, often orchestrating outlandish outcomes to befall those unfortunate enough to find themselves besieged by it. Hope in any regard appears a flickering pyre upon an endless abyss and attracts the ravenous influence of Despair.

Ruin

Manifests as Decay and spreads as a ethereal virus upon the corporeal plane, tainting life and form with a virulent exhalation as if the very breath of the reaper. Existence is robbed of it's vitality, and the inertia acting as the driving force behind all of life comes to a devastating halt. Husks are left; lifeless vessels of void and the abyss which continue in their perpetual demise until they wither to dust.



Execution




Kaosu no kami no kamikaze ningyō wākushoppu kyōgyūbyō shimasu (Mad Chaos God's Kamikaze Puppet Workshop): Maleficus is more ethereal material than tangible matter and as such decides to convey his whims and wishes through a physical medium. These constructs are what the victims of this hellish abomination have grown to know and fear as the instrumentation of agony and death. Animated by the corrupted celestial which incessantly courses throughout the unstable make of these infernal creations, these monstrosities are the literal "eyes and ears" of Despair.

So begins...

Maleficus's Story

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Maleficus |Life... Existence... Such joyous tranquility prospers, advancing in growth with complete disregard for it's polar opposite; The insurmountable chaos obligated to balance the astral equation. This unruly continuance cannot proceed on it's predetermined course for such would bring the utter destruction of these realms which are so deserving of their end. The cessation of Ragnarok's progression became existence's prime objective; Such is divinity's whim to self preserve. Accordingly, it was only expected that errors would riddle it's resolve as it's judgment was clouded by the fear of eradication. After imprudent consideration, creation's puppeteer hastily deduces that releasing an imprisoned entity under the covenant that it would return "balance" unto existence would result in it's continuation. The consequences of this resolution, although now unapparent, would ironically become the catalyst in the suffering of all things.

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Maleficus |And it was so that the remnants of this fallen entity were beckoned back into reality, called forth from it's horrific imprisonment from beyond the depths of the inferno. The monstrous acts which eventuate in this vast sea of loathing cannot be conveyed through mortal perception; No contortion of words, nor vivid illustration, could ever hope of coming close to depicting these events. It was from this "Hell Beyond Hell" where 'pain' and 'misery' are all that exist that this fragmented soul was plucked and given perceivable enclosure; A temporary penitentiary meant to contain this ungodly creation while an understanding was being attained. At this point, a grand occurrence befell the forsaken being; It acknowledged only the abeyance of it's everlasting torment and, with it's newly acquired general sense of awareness, relished in it's freedom.

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Maleficus |It was as this benevolent entity leisurely inhaled it's first crisp breath that it's foul and heinous presence expounded throughout the vast universe, spreading it's unnerving negative influences across it. To those akin to the arcane, a shift in presence would be felt as if tranquility had been cast into the abyss, leaving behind chilling consternation to plague the inhabitants of creation.

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Maleficus gained considerable understanding of it's His current situation and environment. Bringing his tainted gaze upward to admire the shackles which bound his wrists and ankles, a deep rumbling spawns from his viscera in manic laughter which reverberates throughout the holy minerals which comprised the restricting chains. Decay begins to gnaw at them, decreasing durability while absorbing essence, leaving naught but brittle metal dangling from the monster's appendages.

A quick glance about it's vicinity divulges it's location atop a grand isle suspended in seemingly endless emptiness. It too falls prey to Maleficus' carnivorous aura which wreaks havoc upon the divine hearth, birthing chasm and fissures along it and casting descending pieces into nothingness. Robbed of it's eternal inertia, the massive chunk of solid ground cascades into oblivion, descending far down into the depths until a rift was cast agape, swallowing the mass whole.

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Maleficus |Coincidence was a clever facade meant to give those oblivious to divinity's presence a reason behind things unexplainable by mortal logic, so calling the ensuing events a 'coincidence' seems fitting. The rift, again, stretches open, spewing forth the large mass of land into the heavens, sending it violently careening towards Terra. As if the calm before the storm, a silence swept over the area, broken only by the vehement convulsions brought on by the devastating impact of the isle crashing into the city. Buildings not immediately crushed under the weight of this island, nor crumbled to pieces through the accompanying tremors, barely retained their defiant stance as each were riddled with a degree of destruction. A thick cloud of dust separated this sight from the view of those who dare gaze upon it.

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Maleficus |The rattling of chains echoes in the following silence as the abomination steps forward, the thick, chalky, mist still clinging to his demonic visage, obscuring from view the approaching harbinger of destruction, allowing those who watched to gaze only upon the steadily progressing silhouette which stretched across the cloud.

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Maleficus |"...I was born so that the word would die, and would enchant no more... So that it would be good for nothing but nurturing the trees and the body’s skin... The body and the ash...
The god slandered by the manure of dead leaves... Finished... Risen to the level of lava and of the stone..."

Dark flames of a heinous nature would spawn as but a small flicker at the base of the north wall within gambits, making it opposite of the bar and all it's alcoholic bounty. The flame ascends along the wall, growing as it abandons a fiery trail behind it. The deathly scent of singed flesh emanates from the hellish fire, assaulting the nostrils of those who take in it's virulent aroma. After attaining a level in height, the black incandescence arcs counterclockwise, continuing so until it were descending toward the floor once more. From the edge of the flaming outline, shade pooled inward in the blank area until it were full. Flames extinguishing, a doorway into abyssal darkness remained, serving for now as a conduit for a demonic gale representing the dark doorway's inhalation of the mortal atmosphere.

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Maleficus |"...I am the god of the boulder and of autumn... Of winter that does not end... Of summer that casts life into the inferno... finished. I am the devourer of human things..."

The abominate stench continued to worsen in smell, becoming something vile and nauseating as it left the vertical void. Ripples began to originate from within the center of the doorway, spreading to the edges which reached out as well, latching onto the wood with fabricated roots. In the distance, a faint voice is heard, though it grows as time passes, becoming heard as screams of bloody murder.

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Maleficus |"...were I to die, and you would await me, waking up no more... I know you are a child and that you live on the verge of time... A sphinx like the serene eagle of Thebes... The city of the enigma... Of the adulteries and the incest... The mother and the father... The brother and the sister... The perfume celebrated in the light of senses... I wait for the orgasm of the night..."



A bulge forms, pushing forward out of the pool erratically as if a creature were trapped behind a thin, yet resilient material. It becomes apparent that the screams are being birth by this suffering being. It presses it's cranium against the flexible substance, revealing it's facial structure; Human in design though with a lack of some features- A nose and eyeballs. Torment exudes from the soul's viscera as saddening wails as pain riddles it's convulsing frame.

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Maleficus |"..Should you await me, promise me that you will grow the world dark... and that you will have no hope... The lament is the desolation of the man who robs himself... Who screams and murders his child inside his fallen tear... I am the god of the tear and desolation..."

Abruptly, the material tears and spews forth the stumbling figure, it covered from head to toe in sanguine plasma, glistening in the dim lighting. Sharply inhaling it's first crisp breaths, the humanoid figure wobbles before falling to it's knees, it's exhalation a scream comprised entirely of woe. Sluggishly, it crawls along the floor, blood prints and crimson smears it's tracks. Another sharp breath is followed by soft groans that serve to console itself from the immense pain. Blinded by the interlacing of thick sinews through it's eyelids, it can do nothing but flail about in bewilderment and misery. The dizziness from lack of breath sets in and the figure is forced to forfeit the contents of it's stomach; A disgusting cluster of bloody maggots.

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Maleficus |"...I know that I am nearing arrival and that you are slowly dying... and that you wait for the end of times... You are sanctified... You are a light within the word... The god stalks you... I mourn your utterance... and your face. I know that I am nearing arrival... and that you are not departing... you sleep on the same bed, with the sheets over the hidden eye... Do you, by any chance, have eyes? ...and a mouth? ...and pleasure? You are a hallowed man and pleasure stalks you. ...like a worm..."

It doubles over and clutches it's abdomen, writing with pain it expresses through cries. It abandons hope. Gritting it's teeth tightly, blood constantly pouring forth from it's pale complexion, whisks of steam begin to escape through similar orifices. A sudden eruption of silver flames engulf the figure, consuming it entirely and bestowing upon it baptism by pain. The screams grow, reverberating throughout the establishment, passing on suffrage these beings will never fathom.

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Maleficus |"...Your night is my night... and without your body I shall fall into desolation... Pretend that I am the angel and that I shall love you through all centuries the whole time is yet to come, in spite of my cold eyes and hair of iron... I promise that I’ll love you and that I’ll push you into the abyss... There is no pleasure without fall... no orgasm without tears... no word without silence..."

The agonizing yells cease, the figure silenced by the reaper whom had grown full from misery and wished no more upon the soul. Slumping forward, the charred remains crunched under the force of it's own weight, incinerated flesh breaking away to dust. The suffering begins anew with a second conflagration upon the corpse, silence broken by a second scream of agony, deep and mournful. It echoes in darkness, choking life from the chilling shade. The figure flinches, life returning, as does pain, and the screams continue. Cries of defiance as it fights against gravity and to it's feet, fist clutched tightly at it's side.

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Maleficus |"...I have arrived and I hear your voice... it does not exist... It is a fire more intense than all the whitewashed fountains I have found along the path... All paths lead to your fingers... The fingers that shred... that murder... that steal the soul... that exist. I arrive and hear your cries... they beg for god... they beg for the angel... For the one who devours the monsoons and the pagan gods... You cry and beg... You hide inside the most secret closet and write your fear... In spite of all the blood that falls... and of all the spoiled food... and of thefts... The god breaks into you like a dove inflamed... takes you with him... and you go... you do not die..."

The spiraling fire continues with only the silhouette of the figure at it's center standing, screams perpetuating constantly, mad with power, pain absent. The dancing pyre expands, taking shape, molding along the flesh, the skin, the bones and soul. Woe and being become one, and the fire is no more. What remains is evil incarnate.

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Maleficus "...I have arrived but I can’t hear a thing... not even the mere breath of sex... You cannot have pleasure... or you do? You are flesh and fire just like all men, but you are more than they are... You are mankind living in its night... The god that does not end... The angel that doesn’t forget... The saint yet unborn... You live upon your skin and you die in your writings... You are the stifled scream of humanity... You have no voice... You have all the voices that have ever been..."

A deep sigh escapes sorrow, an ironic sigh of pleasure, of peace, of freedom from the oblivion beyond the inferno, and happiness of the dark days to come. Reverberations emit endlessly, unnoticed by the mortal while consuming those whose minds have tapped into the arcane and incorporeal. Orgasmic nirvana awaits, thrusting ones mind into ceaseless bliss of the sensual nature. Desire expounds, sated only by the act of conception. A serpentine tongue protrudes and flickers, tasting the air and aura... fantasy and fear.

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Maleficus "...Morning falls... You don’t die... and you are done crying... Someone hauls you by the eyes and tells you the time is near... I have never arrived because your body is impenetrable... I am the god of monsoons and of winter with no end... I am Maleficus, the God of the Tear... And Desolation... I am not hallowed... like you... I am the eternal end... The philosophy... The letter unfinished..."

Winged appendages, thrice in pair, extend outward, unaffected by it's surroundings and vice versa. Such magnificence cannot be confined in concept nor thought and so it's ungodly composition is restless, ever dynamic and chaotic. Flesh bathed in velvet conceal the instrument of lust, but that is all it hides, the rest is bare, devouring envy and lustful intentions simultaneously while arrogance exudes from it's form. It admires it's beautiful visage and arousal seems imminent until the storm is self-tamed. Composure regained, the extra appendages withdraw inside the figure. A toothy smile is left...

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Maleficus |"...Raw flesh... A scrap of skin left behind by the vultures... All that which is not... and which, unceasingly, feeds the whole of humanity..."

"Mmmm... She taunts me... Upon another though she is mine... or she will be..." The words escaped as whispers, inaudible though heard by those intended to hear it. Several graceful strides forward cause the cascading of sanguine strands as if night upon the hearth. It gazes, glancing from the edge of it's sight's limit to it's correspondence, abominable optics emitting silver illumination the windows into abyss, the strands it's curtains, the tongue it's invitation to pleasure. Iridescent variegation pours from the heavens above Maleficus, upon his form and off of it, to the floor with purpose. The vivid spectrum of celestial melds with the make of the floorboards and takes shape with growth. Furniture spawns, a throne rivaled by none in extravagance with it's otherworldly engravings and lush composition. A sigh of tranquility pushes forth into existence.

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Maleficus grasps tight the ends of his armchair, razors present at the tips of his fingers carving into the dark mahogany, leaving hissing trails and smoke in their wake. Slouching backward into the chair, pushing out it lower half, indolence and comfort massage the tense muscles, still so full of agony. Oddly, it's complexion was violet, though the least of the oddities surrounding it. Practically naked save for the thin velvet wrapped around it's waist. What of it's company? A bland inquiry with an even blander answer. Sitting, conversing, idle acknowledgment here and there. What of the cataclysmic nightmares which gave it comfort in the endless torture? Where was the destruction it craved? The pain it desired? The absence of such began to irritate the creature. "...Settled as the clouds without wind... Should I serve as the storm and, in essence, incentive?" A second inquiry, this one rhetorical.

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Maleficus |"...I was born so that the word would die, and would enchant no more... So that it would be good for nothing but nurturing the trees and the body’s skin... The body and the ash...
The god slandered by the manure of dead leaves... finished. Risen to the level of lava and of the stone..."

A hush befell the crowd as this evening's performance opened simply with a change of atmosphere. A calamitous aura would pass over the remains of this unfortunately popular establishment as but a haunting air, a chilling breath upon the the back of each patron's neck, the presence one wished never to feel. Repulsive and unpleasant in nature, it settled calmly into the hearth, dissolving into the very womb of gaia as if to reap her child and sow into into the bloody entrails the seeds of retribution. The orchestra emitted soft harmonious notes along the graceful wind which carried the beautiful melody into the night, announcing the arrival of tonight's first performer. From the depths of the shadows amongst one of the establishment's

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Maleficus |...ungodly corners a pale, trembling appendage protruded violently. The frantically waving hand reached for something, anything, but found air was all it could grasp. Slamming into the floor, it plunged brittle nails into the worn wood in an attempt to gain a base and from there began to pull with everything it had, bending the makeshift claws against it's restriction. Abruptly, the individual lunged forward, free from the shade which bound it to everlasting torment... a torment the inhabitants of Gambit's couldn't fathom, save for the present undead. It was a man, beaten and broken by suffering and fear, now clutching his knees to his chest in the fetal position where he lay upon the floor.

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Maleficus |"...I am the god of the boulder and of autumn... Of winter that does not end.... Of summer which bathes all it embraces in hellfire... finished. I am the devourer of human things..."

Still trembling, the tormented mortal remained stationary as vivid illustrations of the literal hell he escaped engulfed his mind, riddling the edges of his mentality with mournful memories of pain upon himself and those around him. Sadly, this day, freedom's bosom would not serve as his pillow of comfort for he was deceived, lead to believe he freed himself from his hellish imprisonment when in actuality he was chosen for a greater purpose... A sacrifice to the embodiment of Evil and Sin incarnate. Lost in his mind, he took little notice of the female whom approached him in efforts to aid in his comfort. No, darkness devoured his fragile mental state, leaving but a blank slate behind. And with the rising in tempo from the dreaded symphony, the choral portion of the performance began.