Post by Mammon on Jul 19, 2017 8:26:26 GMT
| Hellraiser |
Mammon's PL: 113,792 Mammon's current PL: 28,448
GAIN BONUSES: Heavy Weights + AL PL MULTIPLIERS: N/A
You’d think he’d have empathy, after all he was once a mere puff ball, once a shell without the strength to raise a hand, but torture didn’t make bleeding hearts it made bleeding wounds and he had hardly enough sympathy for himself, so when the spirit approached him for help with an ogre harassing some of his friends, as one denizen of hell to another Mammon turned and planted his foot between him and his everything and tore the hapless spirit skyward with a cruel kick. He had scant mercy either.
“Why did I do that?”
“Cause you're a bitter, plotting, self-pitying monster.”
“You think so?” “I know so.”
He had been nothing short of a terror to the spirits of the afterlife, they could scarcely stand up to him and he knew that well, but really could he be blamed for it? Yes, yes you could. But in his defense there weren’t any theaters, there weren’t any libraries, it's like they wanted him to turn on his fellows out of sheer boredom. Maybe that was the point, you bring your punishment and chains with you. It was such a shame he bought enough to go around.
And speaking of chains here came his jailer, he was a big one. A blue ogre with biceps the size of basket balls, and he seemed to have a problem one he intended to make someone else's problem as well.
“You're the one causing trouble.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“You’re gonna stop it.” “Am I?”
“Yes.”
And that was all that needed to be said before steroid rex came charging at the would be tormentor, one time in his life his stomach would’ve dropped right out of him as he saw that wall of muscle charging him, but now here in hell, it just made him excited. Once again friends, into the fray.
The first thing he knew of the ogre was his fist wrenching itself into his gut, it made him splutter and sucked the air out of him like a balloon sprung a leak, if he kept this up he’d threaten to break right through his ribs and emerge out onto the other side. He needed another hole in his chest like- well he didn’t know what like but he knew he didn’t want it. “Oof.”
Next came his turn and he raised his hand in a loose fighter’s stance, his hands raised above his face as he threw a fist towards the giants face, but as quickly as his arm shot forward the blue menace launched his own attack taking the opportunity to break his guard and toss him to the ground with a ‘thud’ making his teeth rattle and bouncing his head on the ground like a ball, up and down, down and up and now seeing little else but red and tasting a thick salty liquid in his mouth. He was bleeding.
Bleeding like he did on Arcose.
Face down in the mud.
Senses straining.
Fading to black.
Dying.
It would never happen again, he forced himself to his feet feeling as heavy as stones, but now that he was seeing red it was time to share that experience with the world, he couldn’t beat this titan of raw abs with simple exchanges, a war of nutrition would leave his antagonist fed and him starving, it had to be quick and savage with scant mercy.
He screamed until his voice sounded strange even to him and he was bounding into the air and into the ogre, he felt the first fist connect with him but the space wasn’t big enough to lend it much force and he could struggle onwards, he clawed at the blue brute dragging his nails across his skin and peeling back skin and leaving vivid red lines in its flesh, and when all else had faded from the world but the rage he leaned into the nape of his neck, like a lover’s embrace only the kisses would be far more bloody than particularly brutal hickies.
Bite, tear, rip. Bite, tear, rip. Bite, tear, rip. And when he came to he was thrown from the body of the ogre a spatter of dirt mushrooming up from the ground where he had landed, he tasted something, it was salty, thick, it had a strange texture to it, smooth with strange divots and divides, when he removed it from his mouth he had a pulpy half chewed ear in his hand. He had bitten it clean from the ogre, putting a whole new meaning to ‘lend me your ear friend’.
The ogre was scrambling away clutching at where he once had an ear, he didn’t blame him. After all, all he had to deal with were the occasionally rowdy marshmallows not some crazed demon with a pension for ears, he would’ve ran too if that happened to him. Run, run, my blue little friend, he remarked how long was it since last was held, since last he felt someone's skin on his, even if it was for this.
“Yeah, you better run.” he wasn’t really feeling it, sometimes it took its toll being the biggest baddest guy, sometimes he wished he wasn’t such a bastard, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone waiting for you at home, to have someone to tell you soothing nothings, to say you matter, he was in hell and that thought was the most fantastical thing yet. “Yeah right.”