DEATH INCARNATE (published 11/05/2013)

“Death Incarnate” sat in the choking heat of Gehenna.  This was not his true name, but it truly embodied what he had become.  Though he had passed from the mortal world less than 100 years ago it was an eternity for him as time flowed differently here, everything about this place was warped.  Time here didn’t flow, it stabbed and sometimes it stabbed into the timelines of mortal men.  Day after day for a millennium he had fought and killed and honed his skills.  Time had not tempered his rage and humiliation at being bested not once, but twice by his own “comrades.”  He had done what they asked, he had given his blood to secure their secrets.  It was true, he was young and impetuous at the time, but he had trained his entire mortal life to be a living weapon and he made no secret about his superiority.  First the barbarian lout Loddfafnir had defeated him, then after a second challenge the Illrigger lapdog of Eclavdra had bested him.  The years of toil and training meant nothing.  These “warriors” had beaten him not through skill, but with magical tricks and trinkets.  He did the only honorable thing he could and ended his existence, or so he thought.  After his ritual suicide he found himself here, in the eternal battleground of Gehenna.  A place he truly belonged.

As he sat on the pile of daemon corpses and contemplated his “existence” he experienced a strange sensation, a sensation he knew to be a summons from his mistress.  The bitch Choleraxi had seduced him in life for she recognized the power he could offer her, the power of superior breeding!  But his progeny was not enough for the Oinodaemon, she had claimed his very soul upon his death to fight her wars here for eternity.  He dutifully rose and willed himself across the blasted slopes of Gehenna to his Queen’s palace.

He strode into the audience chamber, the guardian daemons wisely making way, and approached his Queen.

“You summoned me.” Stated the warrior flatly.

“I thought you might be interested to know that the twins have discovered the Hall and are already making their plans for infiltration.” Replied the Oinodaemon

“I care nothing for the activities of your welps, why have you summoned me from my battle?” demanded Death Incarnate.

“Take care slave I have given you the material form you possess and I can tear your soul from it any time I wish.”

Death Incarnate straightened his nine foot frame and flexed each of his six clawed hands.  He did cherish the destruction this form allowed him to work and knew well the Oinodaemon’s threat was not idle.

“Our welps as you so affectionately call them have found the hall of your ancient enemies and more importantly what lies in slumber beneath it.” Said Choleraxi with a grin.  “When the Dark One is awoken his hate will spread throughout the multiverse and he will surely see to it that I ascend to godhood!  If you serve me well I will consider your freedom and allow you to serve me in a… greater capacity.”

The thought of exacting revenge on the Reavers was the sweetest of temptations to be sure even if it was only against their descendents.  Yes, he would serve Choleraxi a little longer and when the Dark One finally stirs from his death slumber it will be Death Incarnate who will be rewarded, not Choleraxi, of that he would make certain.