I am going to be quite frank

I am going to be quite frank. The trees are dead. Dead and burnt to a crisp. The ash that fell from the sky clung to the cindered bark and blackened twigs. The earth was plagued by the decrepit corpses of animals and humans. I walked amongst them, gazing at the maggot filled mouths and the ashen, open-eyed faces. Nothing. Nothing was left of these creatures. I stepped over a deer with charred entrails pouring from an open stomach; it had been dead for weeks; ever since the Void opened.

The folds of my black cloak rippled in a dead wind. The fractured chain links that clung to my suit of armor clinked together with a soft chink that echoed around the still forest; or what’s left of it. I scratched an itch on my neck and flaked away a patch of skin, revealing a collection of red scales topped with a thin slender layer of maroon fur.

My human form is so delicate, I thought grumpily, flicking off fragments of skin from my blackened nailed fingertips. No wonder the humans fell so easily.

I walked on, pausing every now and then to observe the rotten carnage that lay deepening in ash. As I reached a clearing on the top of a knoll I observed the desolate landscape. Once green and lush, the vast fields of grass, immense forests of trees and a small bustling town in the distance lay grey, ashen, dead and decaying. Nothing seemed to move, not even the wind would disturb the steady flow of ash to the ground.

I cracked my neck, more patches of skin peeled off and more of my scales were exposed. Dammit, I thought, I need to find another body to control.

I bent my knees and sprung into the air. My hood flew off my head as the rush of still wind kicked against my frame. My dark skinned, bald head was scarred and scabbed. My blood-pit eyes stared, having no possession of eyelids. My slightly gaping mouth couldn’t close because I was also devoid of lips.

As my feet hit the ground, my depleting legs shook under my weight. I growled in disgust, covered my head with my hood again and sniffed the night air.

Ah, I thought, I can always smell a boneyard.

I walked along what used to be the town’s main street. There was nothing but the shells of buildings that housed flower shops, markets and people’s homes. Now all was still and grey, the stifling ash falling from the sky mixed with the putrid stink of rotten flesh and food would be revolting to any human. But to us, the Demoniacs, it’s quite pleasant, quite normal.

In our realm, Leviatha, it’s worse than this. Here, the ash falls like quiet winter snow. In our world, it falls in torrents as if it was an eternal hurricane, thrashing at our hides like grains of sand on a beach during a windy day. It blinds our eyes and hides the falling spouts of black fire falling from the scorched sky. It never bothered me much though.

I am a Nomael, we live underground, or we used to. My kind were wiped out, I am all that’s left. Though the Cerberus Lords and other nobility are powerful and brutal, they know who and what I am, so they respect me and leave me to my solitude.

I entered through a rusted chain link fence and searched among the cracked and flaked tombstones for a recently departed corpse. And I found one. Peter Kellings, died one month ago.

It’ll do, I thought, flexing my fingers. This process was easy, but painful; ripping out of my human shell and sliding into another was an excruciating ordeal. Though it had to be done.

My current fading human skin belonged to Richard Levin, an accountant in what was Boston. I had traveled far away from where the Void had opened up in the drying up Atlantic coast, and settled in the quiet lands of Romania, establishing my seat of power.

After the grueling transfer was complete, I cracked my sealed neck and sniffed the air and cringed.

Live humans, I thought. The sent of life sent any Demoniac into revulsion. It is in our nature and our upbringing to revel in the rancid stench of death and decay.

I passed through the fence; the chain links melting back to allow me passage, and followed the stench of human flesh. I walked slowly for a while still within the air of humans, my ears picking up scuttling among the charred fallen limbs of the trees.

And soon enough, I came to a clearing where I saw five humans and a poorly made, disheveled hut. The humans were moving about, collecting anything that wasn’t charred or entirely burnt. And others were salvaging any meat from carcasses that wasn’t rotten and maggot filled.

I chuckled at their desperation and they looked round and recoiled in terror. “Don’t worry you talking monkeys” I said, my voice like a soft lion’s growl. “You’re not going to die, not yet.”

The humans remained clustered together in their hut, all hugging each other. I rooted around in their belongings and actually began to pity them, but only began to.

“You humans want to make a deal?” I grinned at them, flashing my long teeth. They all cowered together, but I could tell they were listening. “If you wish, you can serve me, in exchange; you need not worry of death by any demon.”

Demon, I thought. Such a crude title.

I could tell they were contemplating my offer. Surely they have heard of deals with Demoniacs. If you serve a Demoniac, you lose your soul, and you will die from it, eventually. But in the mean time, they become extremely selfish, twisted…evil. And their average characteristics enhance to superhuman levels.

A human approached me, crawled out of the hut and stood, shaking before me.

I chuckled, looked him up and down and muttered, “What is your name?”

“Leon…Sp…Spurtz.”

“Well Leon, do you wish to accept this deal, it’s a one time offer, and no other demon will give you a sweeter one.”

He stood, trembling in my wake. It always amused me to see the fear these meat sacks exhibited. But he straightened up, and nodded his head in fervor.

I cackled that sent violent shivers down the spines of Leon’s friends. “Good choice.”

I reached out and grasped Leon’s face. This was easy to do too, but very painful to him. Relieving someone of their soul was an almost orgasmic experience. To us, souls of living things were like drugs, which enhanced a Demoniac’s power.

Leon shrieked and writhed, clutching onto my wrist, streams of blood spluttering from his eyes, mouth, nose and ears. His body caught fire, flames bright silver. The Soul Flame leaving the body. The flames and sparks coiled up my arm and melted into my skin. I released the fool and took a deep rasping breath. The Soul Flame was searing through my veins. I felt euphoria and ecstasy, but it soon died away. I cracked my neck, as I often had to do wearing this ragged skin suit.

I looked down at what was Leon Spurtz. He was no longer a human, but a Hellanoid, a mortal wraith in service to the Demoniacs. And he no longer appeared is ragged fearful self. His skin was charred black as midnight. His eyes were a deep yellow, devoid of pupils or whites. Spiny wings that were comprised of bone and a substance that appeared like drifting black smog. He bore a grin, baring red sharpened teeth.

“What can I do for you Master?” He replied in a growl, bowing from his waist almost to the ground.

“For starters, kill these simpletons,” I smirked, turning by back on those in the hut.

“As you wish,” He replied without a moment’s pause.

I grinned, “Good, and from now on, your name shall be Roaz.”

“Thank you Master.”

I didn’t stay for the carnage, the sounds and splatters I heard was satisfaction enough. Now don’t think me evil, it’s just in my nature. In the Leviatha, it’s kill or be eaten, beaten, raped, etc. I personally think, if you are fool enough to try anything against a female Cerberus Lord, you deserve to die, to rid the world of such incompetence.

And speak of the devil, so to speak, as soon as I passed a particularly large scorched oak a voice called out from behind it.

“Having fun Caleb?”

I knew that slender feminine voice, the one voice that is the most beautiful of any Demoniac voice. I turned and there was the five-thousand year old Cerberus Lord, Abyss. She was one of the first Demoniacs ever to cross from the Leviatha plain to the Mortal plain and back again without being noticed, many centuries before the Void had opened.

“And how are you Lord Abyss?” I replied, turning to her.

I did not bow. I bowed to no one, and the Cerberus Lords knew and respected that. I was a high ranking Demoniac of the purest and oldest caliber. It was legend that the Nomael had helped rule the Leviatha eons ago, before the Revolution and the rise of the Cerberus Lords against the Old Power.

Abyss was particular. She was a faction leader; the leader of the Abyssites, an army of minor Demoniacs that swore allegiance to this powerful ancient. She was tall and had a muscular build. She had slitted gray eyes and snow-white skin. She wore a complicated suit of armor that was mostly pine-green with a matching hooded cloak. Truth be told, she was even more beautiful in her true form than in human form.

“I’m doing fine, my clan has found a nice home west of here; I’m just on a walk.” She turned back and saw Roaz approaching, blood drenching his arms, torso, and face. He was still grinning with malice.

“Recruiting Hellanoids I see.”

“I want someone to serve me on this damn rock.”

“I understand that,” Abyss replied with a slight chuckle. “They make entertaining pets.”

We walked side by side with each other a while as Roaz followed behind, with that twisted grin never leaving his face.

“So…” I sighed, cracking my knuckles, “any news from any other Lords?”

“Gehenna is battling with some smaller tribe, other than that, trivial news.”

Gehenna was the second strongest Cerberus Lord. His faction, the Gehennans were a collection of the elite, of some of the most cruel and subversive Demoniacs ever to take breath. He was a Basilisk, one of the rarest and most deadly of all Demoniacs. He personally had traveled between Leviatha and Earth over a thousand times in his lifetime, which spanned ten thousand years. I always avoided Gehenna as much as possible. Since, in his true form, the very sight of him would cause death, even for a Demoniac. But there was one being, one Cerberus Lord that I actually feared.

“So…have you seen Hades lately?” I asked her, a bit on edge.

She peered at me, a grim expression playing about on her face, and nodded slowly. “He settled west of your territory Caleb, and he hasn’t forgotten you.”

My breath stopped in my throat. Hades was the ruler of the Hadeac clan, the collection of the worst and most highly feared Demoniacs ever spawned. He controlled Sphinxes, Sirens, Minotaurs, Hydras, and Kraken, just to name a few.

Hades was, in fact, the only Cerberus. He was the one who incited the great Revolution and overthrew the Old Power and created the factions, naming the succeeding Cerberus Lords Order, Gehenna and Abyss being a part of.

He has lived for over 200 millennium, and so, he was the oldest Demoniac that still lived. And, like me, was the last of his kind. But he’s always had a problem with me.

During the Revolution, the Nomael had sided with the Old Power, because we were nobles in that regime. And during the war, my bloodline and his bloodline clashed many times, and at the final battle between the Old Power and the Order, the Nomael were wiped out by Hades and the Cerberuses, as were the rest of the Cerberuses, killed off by the Nomael and the rest of the Old Power.

“Oh shit.”

“Shit is right, you should keep within your borders and stay here, Hades has lost none of his prowess since the last time you two met.”

“He still has his scar I gave him?”

Abyss nodded.

I chuckled and Abyss slapped me. And that wiped the smirk right off my face.

“It’s no laughing matter Caleb,” Abyss growled, her eyes pulsating. “You do know, he will try to kill you one of these days.”

“It’s the one thing I am certain of Abyss, am I am also certain that he will succeed.”

Abyss gave a look at me that I had to turn away from; I hated the look of pity.

“Why can’t you try to carve your own destiny Caleb? Why submit defeat?”

“I’m never going to submit Abyss,” I replied with indignance. “But I do realize that it is a fight that I will probably not win.”

Abyss stayed quiet for a while. We walked on; Roaz lurking behind us, that now annoying evil smirk still latched about his jaw.

About fifteen minutes later, I was tired of Roaz’s eyes playing about the two of us.

“Roaz.”

He stood at attention, mocking a soldier. “Yes Master.”

Return to my home and begin preparing my evening meal.”

Be bowed so low his head brushed the ashen ground and then he was gone, a swirl of ash and dust following him as he sprinted away through the charred toothpicks that were trees.

“Abyss,” I turned to her, her eyes still glistening with that despicable pity. “Why do you care for my welfare?”

Abyss looked deep into my eyes with her dark gray eyes and said softly, “Do you not know?”

Now, you might think this is cliché, and I would agree with you. But, I have no heart for a mix species love affair between a Nomael and a Harpy. That is the race of Demoniac that Abyss was, a Harpy.

“You know that is forbidden, not only by you and the other Lords, but by the very laws of our nature.”

Abyss blushed. She actually blushed. Strange that such a creature would blush. Demoniacs used females to breed with. Other than sex, nothing ever transpired between those of the Demoniac races.

“Caleb, I’ve known you since the day I was hatched. And you’ve always stood by me. You aided me when Infernus attacked and held me hostage.”

Infernus was a Fire Elemental that led the Infernusa faction.

“That was out of the loyalty oath I gave you in order to reclaim my territory in Leviatha from him.” I replied.

Without a moment’s warning, Abyss came forward, slid her arms under mine and held herself against me, her head pressed against my shoulder. I didn’t know what to do in this situation, so I just placed my hands on the small of her back and held her for a while.

Abyss was a powerful Lord and Demoniac, but she had a very emotional underside. This isn’t the first time she’s gotten this way. Ever since we were young she’s fancied me. I just don’t know why.

A Harpy was a cross between a humanoid form and a bird of prey. They had the bodies of human men and women with the feet and hands that were talons, a wingspan crept along their elongated arms.

A Nomael was very different. We were an elder wolfish race. Our bodies are that of a humanish nature and structure that mixed with that of a wolf. A more beastly term for us is Werewolves or Lycanthropes, just that we had scaly skin. But our powers exceed that of mortal comprehension.

“You don’t have to fight this alone Caleb,” Abyss breathed as her head rested on my shoulder.

I mentally rolled my eyes. I never can understand affection. It’s too…human. By our very natures, Demoniacs are bestial creatures, males only used for fighting and women used for mating, plain and simple.

“What about your status Abyss?” I asked, looking for anyway possible to get her to detach from me.

Cerberus Lords can take on as many mates as they want, just as any other Demoniac. But if word ever got out that, and this will never happen, Abyss had engaged with me. She would loose her title, her clan would dissolve, and she would be killed.

“I care not for my status Caleb. Why can’t you try for me?”

“You know why Abyss.”

“Oh damn the rules Caleb.”

“It’s not that, remember.”

Abyss let me go. I held in my sigh of relief. She stared into my eyes with hers. I wanted to slap her, to rid her of that disgusting pitiful expression. It’s too human. It’s too weak.

I turned from her; knowing that her pursuit of me wasn’t over. I walked away from the only creature that gave a damn, and tried not to look back.