Astaroth's Halloween Special

Discussion in 'Archives' started by Nevermore, Oct 31, 2011.

  1. Nevermore

    Nevermore Stately

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    ((Disclaimer: Situations presented in this fight will border on god-modding. This is a fight meant to be scary, and challenging and not meant to be handled by one person. Expect to die if you join alone. No complaints will be accepted about the fight. It's Halloween.))

    The night was calm and young. A cool breeze swept across the land as many people slept peacefully. In a small town known for its peace no one was aware of what was happening in the neighboring town, only a few miles away. The gentle breeze carried with it the scent of blood and death and fire. Something wasn't right this night, and it certainly wasn't peaceful.

    Women screamed but were quickly cut short by blade or rough hand as they were taken by wicked men. The jail had been burned down by someone, but not before all the criminals were set loose. Forsaken men tore through the town with wild abandon, killing and raping, pillaging everything they could take and burning everything else. A dark shadow seemed to hover over the town. Despite the full moon that hung high in the sky, it was difficult to see between the houses and in the streets, but the men carried torches, so they didn't notice. Dark laughter, brutal to hear and bone-chilling in tone would ring out every time someone died, but the men ignored it. Rattling chains could be heard dragging the ground as someone or something stalked the darkest corners of the town.

    Astaroth watched his plan carry itself out from shadows, laughing fiercely as he felt every soul passing from the physical plane. It couldn't have been more beautiful! He laughed until it forced dry coughs from his tortured lungs and when all the citizens were dead the criminals rejoiced and continued to loot the houses. Liquor was brought from the taverns and they drank their fill, all as Astaroth watched them. The shadows deepened the later it got, yet still the men didn't notice, until it was too late.

    The wretched man stood among the criminals before they saw the shadows that carried him. He looked from one to the next as they drew weapons, grinning and cheering as they tried to claim the last civilian, "Ehhehehehehehe..." Astaroth's voice was ice, "Hehehehahahahahahaha! Wretched humans, fools and fiends. Dirty souls! Hahahahaha! Bwahahahaha! Hehe, such delicious anger and suffering." A man made to stab Astaroth and received a rusty chain through the chest for his troubles. He screamed in agony as the darkness tortured him to death. "Such fools, heh heh heh... You will all die. Foolish deaths. A waste for you, for them," he glanced around at the bodies that littered the ground, "Sweetness for me hahahaha!"

    The men cried out at once and all sought to destroy the strange man before them. No one got further than one step. A great wave of darkness shot from Astaroth's body, engulfing the men and the town. Unholy cries sounded from within the cloud of fear and pain as the men were killed horribly by the poisonous darkness. Their souls were torn from their body as Astaroth's laughter filled the air again. He called the souls to him, bent them to his will and devoured them, one after another. The darkness slowly receded back to him and as it moved brought every soul that had passed within it, wretch and innocent alike. He devoured them all.

    When the darkness cleared and the moons light was capable of lighting the town again it lit a nightmare. The buildings lay in ruins. Plants were ruined and dead and everything was stained with black. The bodies of those caught within the darkness were shattered, maimed beyond recognition. The only thing that marked the bodies as human were their faces, frozen in pure agony from having their very souls ripped from their bodies. In the center of it all stood Astaroth. A cloud of darkness, swirling like smoke engulfed his body. His appearance had changed completely. He was no longer a short man, crippled by ages of baring toxic darkness within his veins. The wretch stood tall, strongly built. Muscles rippled beneath his tattered robes. His pale skin had been stained the deepest black to match his darkness and his eyes were pure orbs of crimson like burning blood. The only thing that remained unchanged were the rusted chains anchored in his flesh.
     
  2. Zyta

    Zyta Drifting Super Mod

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    “What is this presence that I feel on the air?” asked Mephistopheles as he arrived in the ruined town and took a whiff of the deathly scent that lured him to this location. He looked all around for the defying presence of Astaroth, though he doesn’t know Astaroth, never even heard of him before; the power of Astaroth filled the entirety of the forsaken town so clearly that for a moment Mephistopheles was left with a feeling of inferiority. All around him he could feel Astaroth’s strength both near and far as though Astaroth himself was standing just a few paces away. It was his laughter that finally gave Astaroth’s general position away after Mephistopheles calmed himself down and focused on the source of the overwhelming power that was seemingly surging and growing (maybe?) all around him.

    Mephistopheles was a renowned Devil for his intelligence and power; there were few that did not know who he was and fewer still who could feel confidence in speaking with him. He was by and far no where near the strongest Devil of his age, let alone that history has ever seen. Once upon a time Mephistopheles had the silly dream of taking over the heavenly kingdom but has since abandoned that impossible goal.

    Mephistopheles chose to walk through the town instead of appearing suddenly near Astaroth so that he could appreciate what the devil of this town has done to it. Most eerily he kept hearing that same laughter and a rattling of chains that both seemed to get louder and more audible that closer he came to his target until at once he happened upon Astaroth, a hulking shadow that was darker than the black around him.
     
  3. Paladin_girl

    Paladin_girl Between the Chapters of a Dream Staff Member

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    ‘Look, Lucifer. It’s an angel.’

    A childlike comment emitted from the black morass of chaos and cruelty, bedding the beginnings of a troubled night. It was rancid from recklessness and revenge, a lucid gathering of the worst that humanity had to offer under the moon’s sway. She had watched as the men indulged pitilessly, tearing into the lives of others with no remorse. Her ears picked up the multiple shrieks of the dying and the breaking as they flavoured the evening remorselessly. A sweep of filth and cruelty touched the back of her throat like venom and the watcher so happily swallowed – there was more in this night than she had realised. Like a bear unsuspecting of his impending traps, the decayed had arrived to steal away the remaining lives of the foolish and the wicked. The relish that this strange beast shared in the massacre was overindulgent. It made her smile.

    Like a silken cloth to her fingers, the darkness of the strange being lit the dangerous senses that the Hunter still possessed. She wondered if, somehow, if he were not merely returning the favour and that their lives, which were so easily tortured away, were merely the price.

    On a ruined wall, a figure sat and watched as the razing town blitzed into violence. A gun the colour of dried blood and as twisted as Hell sat in her left palm, the barrel placed against her lips as she kept it fondly close to her. The brown tail of a jacket draped over her back like a caress, dancing in the breezing heat of flames and dirt. On her back, a living scythe, the material as that of her gun, sat humbly as a glaze of light flickered as shadows obscured and uncovered across its reflection. The curved edge smiled and snarled, waiting to be the final sight for any victim’s eye. The owner of it was beautiful and young, but the eyes were pitch with knowing, seeming to be deeper and more ancient than any taunting abyss. Lengths of black hair drooped over her shoulders and cheeks, fastened indifferently by a bow that ravelled past the small of her back. Her expression seemed porcelain, unchanging and pale, amusement having shackled it beyond understanding. With a knee drawn up below her chin and her boot resting against the ruined surface of the wall, Lilith looked as if she was watching a pantomime.

    Watching the approaching Devil; his power skimmed across her mind like an electric-induced fire, making her flesh tingle with adrenaline. Offering him a playful grin, she observed the beast which drew them to this destroyed little place. His laugher was tempting her to join in. When she spoke, it was unclear of whom she was speaking to, only that as it emitted, it was a knowing remark that was as soft as sin. The hammer to her pistol was already drawn back and she was not about to wait to play.

    ‘A body that sings with the soulless screams. Such a performance.’
     
  4. Nevermore

    Nevermore Stately

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    Astaroth offered the two no acknowledgement. He seemed to stare past them both as if he saw something there that made him grin. The expression he bore was only recognizable by the curved whiteness of his exposed teeth. His eyes seemed to flair with delight at the approach of living beings. Only after several moments of staring into the distance did he offer his guests a glance each, the blood-red eyes carrying with them the full weight of evil and death. He took a deep breath, his muscled chest swelling slowly before he exhaled slowly, the raspy release sounding of dryness. He fixed Lilith and Mephistopheles with his burning gaze but seemed to look through them and beyond, "My... name... is... Legion... For we are... Many."
     
  5. Paladin_girl

    Paladin_girl Between the Chapters of a Dream Staff Member

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    Lilith laughed softly, as if she had not heard the morbid quote, leaning forward to softly pad her boots down against the tufts of dirt-red. She tilted her head, as if curious, raising the gun to meet the barrel towards the Jester’s head.

    ‘Do you mind if I release the masses? They want to play away from Little Legion. He has misbehaved...’
     
  6. Zyta

    Zyta Drifting Super Mod

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    Mephistopheles was taken back when he noticed Lilith and quite literally took a single step back as if the sight of her was like holy radiance that stung.

    ‘Why is the Clock Tower Guardian here?’ thought he. He knew that she was not in cahoots with the devil of this town, but he wondered what happened with Medio, with Young Gabriel, and the Clock Tower that brought her to this location. ‘I am thankful that I chose to come here in my original body, otherwise I might have been recognized.’

    With still a wary eye on Lilith, for it was natural that her being a Demon Hunter and he a Devil that there was no guarantee that she might turn her weapons upon him, Mephistopheles addressed Astaroth, walking in a wide circle away from Lilith but coming closer towards the target of his desire.

    “Legion, or whatever you call yourself. Demon . . . Devil,” Mephistopheles’ voice caressed the last word and slowly drew out the last note of devil in a passionate slur. And then again with such confidence pouring out of his mouth that the words seemed to speak for themselves from a great distance, “Your body, your strength, both will be mine when I eat your soul!”
     
  7. Nevermore

    Nevermore Stately

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    His laughter was low, gurgling faintly in his throat like the deafening roar of an approaching storm, just barely audible in the distance. Black shoulders shook slightly with his mirth, as if the pair before him had told him a joke. "Soul?" The word was twisted, malformed by the hundreds of voices he now spoke with, their sorrow melded into one voice but seemingly broken, "We have many... hahahahaha! You cannot hope to contain them hehehehehehe... Wretch," his neck cracked as his head wrenched to the side when he spoke the final word, "Release them if you dare, human haha! But you are not exactly human, are you? Heh heh no, you are more, and you carry interesting weapons," he regarded Lilith with his burning orbs, malicious lust burning in his vision, "What could you be what could you be hehehehe, I hope you bleed." His very aura was bloody. Blood lust and wretched violence were all he sought. The chains that pierced his midnight flesh rattled as he took a step forward. The blood-rusted iron seemed to match his laughter.
     
  8. Paladin_girl

    Paladin_girl Between the Chapters of a Dream Staff Member

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    Lilith emitted a soft laugh, as if she too, had cottoned the madness of the man before her. She even reclined against the length of the wall like a cat, stretching nonchalantly before she replied. Her eyes sparked the mordancy of equal intent, her finger never leaving the trigger for a second. The power brimming from Mephistopheles was starting to make her fingers curl – she knew that whatever the occurrence, he would be ready.

    Devils could never afford to be restful – it ruined the point.

    'So did Mark and Luke before their dreams shattered. Yet you quote them with beloved murder. My, but you must have been a priest, to emit words so casually without being struck by your maker. How he must blush when you debase his creations.'

    Her feet landed on the ground and she rose her gun.

    'Talk is cheap, Little Legion. Those chains neither shackle nor free you.'

    She fired the start of the red rain.
     
  9. Nevermore

    Nevermore Stately

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    Bullets pierced not black flesh, but normal, human flesh as two chains struck out just before she began to fire and drew two bodies from the ground, piercing their backs with wicked blades and easily pulling them from their unnatural resting place. Dark blood and puffs of poisonous darkness exploded from the ruined bodies with every strike and the unholy man laughed as the hot lead tore into the bodies. A soft chuckle bubbled slowly between his lips all the while she fired. "Yes. Yes! You are right, so right hehehehe a priest I was, a priest with the greatest love for the gods, curse them as they are, wretches and fools! Hehehehe... They cast me down, evil? Hahaha! Cursed by them I am, darkness and pain, forever, but I feel nothing heh hehe," he regarded the bodies that hung from his chains, his eyes boiling rage and delight, "these chains? Hehe, they are my prison. A link to this world, by my very soul! Kill me now and create but a ghost. Gahahahahaha! Doomed forever, that is their game. Wretches and fools."
     
  10. Zyta

    Zyta Drifting Super Mod

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    Mephistopheles could not hear their conversation lapse around him, so great was his concentration that even the sounds of corrupt souls calling out in pain fell on deaf ears; so great was his concentration that the bitter night air which rose and fell in a tumultuous fashion whenever Astaroth moved his chains about breaks when hitting his body as though waves breaking on the shore of a new land; so great was his concentration that his body felt alien to him, every resource that his body possessed was converted into thought and concentration so that he felt weightless in the air away from his so-called body.

    Suddenly flames flickered into life around his body, twirling all around him like a tornado or that occasionally spit out flaming tongues, like whips, that cracked and vanished in a bright intensity that could blind and disorientate for a few seconds at most. The flames began giving off a very faint heat source and a lot of light from its raging yellows and oranges. Mephistopheles made a show of scooping up the flames by waving his right arm through the air in a wide scooping vertical motion as though his hand dipped into water with a bucket and hefted out some water; the flames reacted and followed the arm and begun spiraling round the single outstretched appendage. Faster and faster the flames spun due to the smaller radius traveled around the arm versus around the entire body of Mephistopheles. Friction and air heated up the flames before the Devil thrust his body forward in a single fluid motion and jabbed his arm out at Astaroth as though punching him from over fifteen feet away.

    The flames broke away from Mephistopheles’ arm and shot rocket-like towards Astaroth. A trail of fire stretched across the distance at surprising, but easily dodge-able, speed, but then just before it entered Astaroth’s personal space Mephistopheles caught the end of the flame with his right hand and turned it into a nine-pronged whip with a long sinew line that was only visible thanks to it being a bright line in the air as thin as a laser from a pointer. The whip cut the air (metaphorically) like the hand-strokes of a fine pen on black paper. The whip was pulled away from Astaroth and cracked in the air with a loud snap as sparks of smouldering fire bounded away and flitted out of sight.
     
  11. Nevermore

    Nevermore Stately

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    The display of power from the devil was certainly impressive and any fighter faced with such an attack might have run away or fallen to cower before it, but Astaroth simply watched it with his burning eyes, orbs that rivaled the flames that Mephistopheles held within his grasp. Slow, trickling laughter bubbled from between his ebon lips like sludge, as if he could barely breathe and every sound was labored. However, as the attack grew larger, so too did the man's laughter until he was virtually howling his mirth at Mephistopheles, as if he were trying to out do the attack simply by laughing manically at it. His shrill, crazed laughter was painful to hear as it was formed from the tormented voices of those he had consumed. All at once, darkness flared violently, engulfing the night in nothingness. The fire whip crashed against the darkness with a crack like lightning, spliting the substance asunder without hesitation. Astaroth, who stood within it, split as well. His body came apart into several pieces, cut perfectly by the super-fine flames of the whip. The only part of him left unphased were his chains. The rusted iron bore no mark.

    Black blood oozed from the cuts as darkness flowed into the air around him. As his body fell towards the ground, his insides were revealed to be just as black as his outside. Before he crashed to the ground, his laughter ebbed slightly, despite having been cut off completely by the attack. The sound was chillingly quiet, a whisper of breath. The sliced parts of his body flowed back together, thick clouds of the nothingness that comprised him spreading over the wounds, sealing them without a mark. He stood whole before his attackers, the devil's grin on his face revealing the stark difference between his teeth and skin. In an instant he rose an arm, pointing the limbs at each of them. Two chains followed his command without hesitation and struck like snakes, flaring with toxic darkness as they sped towards their targets.