Pamela was the most beautiful dead person I had ever seen. Of course I'm
jumping ahead aren't I? I should go back and explain . . .
I am Xellos of the mazoku race. Throughout the history of our world the
mazoku race has battled the dragon race for ultimate power. For aeons our races
have battled, the scale between our powers tipping only slightly. Years ago our
race was afraid that we all would be killed by the sorceress Lina Inverse who
could harness the power of the mother of all creation and destruction, the Lord of
Nightmares herself. Fortunately for us she lived out her short human lifetime
without killing too many of us, leaving my master and a few of the other higher
powers to orchestrate what we chose to.
The dragon race however had been losing power on a slow decline for a long
time, first at their own hands when the golden dragons killed the ancient dragons,
and then later in the War of the Mazoku's Fall. The dragon race had dwindled such
that we decided that it was the time to strike while they were weak, destroying
them all. The three remaining higher powers of the mazoku race, Dynast, Deep
Sea, and my master Lord Beastmaster Zelas converged on the dragon race in a
battle that, though tremendous was over in just a few short hours.
In the middle of all this had been humans, the race that I had considered were
all pathetic before I found Pamela, yet again I get ahead of myself. The last of the
dragon race to die was one who is very dear to me, not dear in the way of love
mind you, but I was waiting for her to be the last because her suffering would be
the greatest and most enjoyable to witness. She was called Filia. I had made a
request to the other mazoku to leave her be so that I could personally have the
pleasure of killing her.
On the day that we destroyed the dragon race I waited and then came to deliver
the news to the dragon maiden, with hands soiled in the blood of the other
dragons. Of course she was deliciously furious and mournful all at the same time.
She told a child to go hide, this child I recognized as Valgaav, an ancient dragon
reborn after an incident with a dark lord from another dimension. Taking note of
the boy, I teleported to his location first, gripping the child by the neck and killing
him with a deft flick of my wrist, the small being collapsing to the wooden floor of
the dragon maidens home.
Of course then Filia was so furious with me it was almost unbearably
enjoyable, the pure anger like ambrosia to me. I did however decide against my
want to lengthen her pain by prolonging her death and instead appeared before her
with the smirk she so hated plastered on my every feature.
I told her, "Good bye, Filia." And then with a single blink of my eyes I used
my power to rend her into unidentifiable shreds. With that the last of the dragon
race were dead and the world belonged to the mazoku!
Now I can explain what I've been trying to get to. With the dragon race dead
we set to work on purifying the world to that it could all be returned to chaos,
killing off all life forms and resurrecting any who seemed worthy of being reborn
as a mazoku. It was when I was sent out to scour for any who would be worthy
when I found Pamela. I had been hovering over the blood soaked ground to avoid
touching it, my amethyst eyes scanning the area.
It was then that I saw her, and she was perfect. She took my breath away as I
levitated to her location to obtain a better look at her. I set down on the ground,
forgetting about the fact that my boots and the end of my cloak were being soaked
in blood as I knelt to survey the perfect body that was splayed haphazardly on the
ground. Her golden hair was fanned out on the muddy ground. I concluded that
she must've just died because even through my gloved hands I could feel the
warmth from her. If she were any more radiant I might've mistaken her for the
Lord of Nightmares.
She had died of a long piece of timber that impaled her through her torso. I
lifted her body from the crimson mud and gripped the large piece of debris and
tossing it aside before surveying the large wound. I couldn't help but pause to try
and imagine the delicious pain she must've felt before death. Of course I quickly
pulled myself together, remembering my task of resurrecting her. Cradling her
limp body on one of my arms, I reached out to place a hand over the wound she
had suffered, gathering the energy in my palm to resurrect the woman with.
Like all resurrections she took on a very slight difference in appearance, very
vaguely reflecting my own appearance. The blood that covered her changed to a
shade of ebony which began to slowly evaporate as the wound in her torso began
to mend itself as if the wound had never occurred. Once the wound had healed the
resurrection continued, a black energy surrounded her form which drew the energy
in giving birth to the one thing that differentiates mazoku from other life forms, an
astral body.
I felt her breathing resume and then she opened her eyes. That was where she
had taken on a quality of my appearance, her eyes were an impossibly deep shade
of amethyst. I almost felt a chill of fear and I had wondered at that time if that is
the same thing that others felt when I open my eyes to stare at them with my soul
piercing gaze. That was quickly forgotten though however when she spoke.
"Where am I? Am I dead? Is this heaven?" she asked, her gaze focused on me.
Her voice was melodic, far more than any normal human or even normal mazoku
for that matter. I told her of what had happened and with the dignity of any well
mannered mazoku she accepted the transformation that the world was destined to
undergo. Best of all was that I had been the one to find her, of all the mazoku it
had been me. Pamela was the most beautiful dead person I had ever seen.