Fourteen year old, Jannes Ackmann glared up at his mother. The woman certainly didn't look evil, with her blonde hair, blue eyes and sweet smile, she was generally considered an ideal wife and mother but Jannes had lived and been reincarnated enough to know not to judge people by their face.

As Master of Death, Jannes had used reincarnation to negate the mind-numbing boredom of eternity, usually he would section off part of his mind and dull the emotion and intellectual bias from his true self to allow a new personality and thought processes to develop naturally as he aged. It was a lot easier to become absorbed in his new lives that way.

But unfortunately, statistically speaking he was fairly unlucky with his childhoods. It couldn't be possible for child abuse, child labour and child soldiers to be as normal as it seemed to have become in his experience.

His current mother, Maria, had just handed him over to a priest. She had drugged him and now he was being tied onto a chair in the basement of the local church. Such a good mother.

Jannes zoned out as they started reciting prayers – it had become a habit fairly quickly in this life. He only paid attention when the priest approached him.

Markus Hässig was his name. He was a horrible man with a sleazy smile and emotionless eyes. Jannes had never felt comfortable around him and made sure to keep his little sister near him when the man was around.

Hässig traced the sign of the cross over Jannes, himself and then Jannes' mother. Then liberally sprinkled them all with holy water.

"Lord, have mercy," he intoned as Jannes sneered, watching his mother echo the words, "Christ, have mercy."

As the priest and his mother continued the prayer or whatever it was supposed to be, Jannes surreptitiously tested his restraints. Whatever drug his mother had given him had faded some but his thoughts still felt sluggish and his fingers wouldn't move quite how he wanted them to but the rope tying him to the chair could be cut with a bit of time and effort.

Better yet would be if he could reproduce the power that led to his current situation. He wasn't sure what it was precisely, or how to call it up but it was a power that he had been born with. He always locked away his powers before he started a new life but his true self would retain the powers beyond that life and world. Before each life he would decide how many powers he could have in the next. For entirely mundane worlds, the maximum was one (except for that one time he made himself God and Ruler of Earth) and in this life he was only allowed his body's natural powers.

This red energy was something he hadn't seen before. His baby sister Katrina, who was only seven, was nearly kidnapped by a man when Jannes had turned the corner and seen them. Jannes had ran forward to protect his crying sister and when the man turned on him (somewhat impressive considering the epic kick he had just aimed at the guy's balls) Katrina had screamed and then he felt something inside him move and the man was engulfed in strangely red fire. It was at that point that their mother rounded the corner and saw Jannes with bright red eyes snarling at an unnaturally burning man who quickly burnt into nothing but ashes and the red fire snuffed out.

Watching her son sway and collapse and then later wake up confused and with blue eyes again was probably what convinced her that he was possessed. Though it might have something to do with the horrible priest that Jannes was pretty sure she'd been fucking for ten years, behind her frequently absent husband's back.

Jannes wouldn't mind burning away the ropes and chair but he was a bit worried about controlling it. Most natural internal energies that he'd come across also reinforce the body as well so hopefully the drug would be overcome shortly. In the meantime he'd have to listen to the horrible priest and his mother.

His first escape attempt was a failure. He'd managed to pull out the red fire and it ate through both the rope and the chair he'd been sitting on. He'd ran past his mother, pushing Hässig out of the way (and burning a hole through the fabric at his shoulder and maybe the shoulder itself) but then exhaustion had overcome him.

When he woke up his mother was gone and his body hurt. He was lying down and ached all over so it took him a moment to notice the extra pain in his hands and feet. That Hässig bastard had nailed him to whatever he was lying on. He was about two feet above the ground and aside from the nails he was held in place by a number of chains around his legs, arms and neck.

"I adjure you, ancient serpent," Hässig droned, standing directly behind Jannes' head for maximum effect, "by the judge of the living and the dead, by your Creator, by the Creator of the whole universe, by Him who has the power to consign you to hell, to depart forthwith in fear, along with your savage minions, from this servant of God, Jannes Ackmann, who seeks refuge in the fold of the Church…"

Jannes bared his teeth and bit back a growl – that would only encourage the idiot. He was in a much direr position now. His mother, while a fairly cold woman, did ostensibly care about his wellbeing and now wasn't around to curb the creepiest priest's enthusiasm. He also was now held down by metal rather than wood and while he did get the impression he could burn through it if he wanted it would certainly be more tiring and he couldn't afford to pass out again around Hässig.

Jannes resolved to wait until the idiot either finished and released him or left for the night.

The second escape attempt was a failure. He'd waited until Hässig left, then concentrated on using as little of the fire as possible to burn through the links on the chains and those disgusting nails but unfortunately, it being a new power, his control was almost non-existent and by the time he had gotten rid of the restraints, he barely had enough energy to stumble towards the door before he collapsed.

The next time he woke up, Hässig and his mother were back. This time he was tied up against the wall with a chain around his neck and attached to the ceiling keeping him upright. His arms and legs were spread and also chained and he was only wearing his boxers.

"You'll be better after this, honey," his mother murmured as she stroked the side of his face, "just one more try and the demon will be gone and I'll take you home."

"Better after what" Jannes croaked, alarmed. His mother had never been so demonstrative in his life.

"Just one more trial," she soothed, "and Markus says you will be free of the devil's influence."

As his mother retreated, Jannes caught sight of Hässig coming back down the basement stairs carrying something glowing on the end of a stick.

It was a cross, an extremely hot cross that they were going to use to brand him with the sign of Christ.

"Fuck!" he swore, wide eyes locked onto the approaching man. "What the fuck is wrong with you? What are you doing?"

Hässig didn't slow down and as he moved the light flickered over his face creating ominous shadows and Jannes thought that he could see excitement in those eyes that had only ever been blank.

"Don't you fucking dare!" he yelled, desperately struggling, "We're under the church aren't we? People will hear if I scream! People will – stop it! Don't come any closer! Mum! Help!"

At the last moment Jannes remembered to use his red fire but Hässig pressed the cross into the centre of his chest and he lost control of his power and his thoughts and screamed.

It was the most painful thing Jannes had ever felt, nevermind the memories he had to of greater tortures – they were dulled as though they had happened to another person. This hurt. His screaming was so loud in the closed off room that Jannes couldn't even think. He felt like he was choking on it and only belatedly realized that he was choking but it was on the chain around his neck.

His fire had lashed out around him. There were holes in the wall behind him and in Hässig in front of him and the chains were melted or disintegrated in places. Unfortunately he hadn't recovered from using them the last time so their power was diminished.

Finally Hässig pulled back and Jannes could breathe again. His chest still felt like it was on fire and like ants were biting him over the burn and he felt stabbing pain all over his new brand and through one of his arms.

Slowly Jannes became aware of his surroundings. Hässig was holding his mother back and the cross had been set aside. Jannes could feel tears on his cheeks and he had bit into his tongue at the start. One of his arms was probably broken and his wrists and ankles were rubbed raw and bleeding from his struggles.

The next time he woke up he was alone with Hässig again. He still hurt all over and he could feel his reserves of the red fire were so low he could barely feel it.

The foul priest grinned at him, "Well, demon," he mocked, "Will you leave this poor boy? No? Then we will have to start over again."

And he did. He said all his prayers, signed his crosses and sprinkled his holy water. Then he repeated his burning cross bullshit, all the while watching Jannes with those unnerving no-longer-blank eyes of his.

When Maria Ackmann returned for her son, three more days had passed and her youngest daughter was insisting that she see her brother, never mind that he was 'away with friends'.

In this time, Jannes hadn't been allowed food or water and had been branded over his initial burn twice more. He had been whipped and cut to 'bleed out the demon', his burn was infected and he no longer had the energy to move.

He was also delirious.

The priest dressed him and placed him in a chair for his mother's visit, his head lolling to the side. He couldn't tell where he was or what was happening and he spoke to himself in his fever. He muttered in languages he shouldn't know and languages that shouldn't come out of human mouths.

Hässig was very happy to show Maria her son speaking in 'tongues'.

"We have forced the demon out of hiding," he proclaimed, "now we must drive it from his body!"

So Maria Ackmann left her son with her lover.

On the final day of his exorcism, Jannes peeked out from under his hair, still slumped in the chair that the bastard priest had put him in. He was still tied up in chains and he was hungry, thirsty and in incredible pain. But he was coherent.

He knew he wasn't going to survive this. Unless someone came to his rescue in the next half hour he would die there, underneath the church he had gone to at least twice a week his whole life, with his least favourite and clearly sadistic priest.

Being Master of Death wasn't going to help either. In this life he had no extra powers, beyond what he was born with and he couldn't move to make use of any knowledge he had anyway. He hurt all over and he would never get to see his baby sister again.

He wasn't going to just die though. He had died early in a lot of lives, sometimes the very day he was born. He wanted to live though, he always did. But if he was going to die – and he was – he wanted to take the fucker who did this with him.

Jannes knew he didn't have much of the red fire left so he would have to get Hässig close to him and attack his head with it. It could reduce a man to dust in seconds so it wouldn't be too difficult. Even if it was, he was going to kill that bastard even if it killed him too.

Hässig grabbed Jannes by the hair and pulled his head up to pour another jug of holy water down his throat. The priest always liked to closely watch his expression so Jannes wrenched his head out of his grasp and glared straight into the man's eyes as he willed his fire into the fucker's evil head. Bright red burst from Jannes and engulfed Hässig's head and shoulders which quickly dissolved under the flames, killing him instantly.

Jannes grinned, eyes unfocused and lips cracked and bloody. The light faded from his eyes and he laughed as he collapsed in the chair. He was dead within seconds.