Nevermore - Tormented soul
This is my first fanfic so take it easy, it is based upon the DotA heroes Nevermore and Leshrac, feedback is appreciated
So this was it then? I'm being sucked in with the rest of the worthless? Trapped within that body of suffering? The black fiend has thwarted me, my only salvation is that more suffering means nothing to me; I am after all Torment Incarnate.
In my final moments I recalled how I was hired by the Sentinels, I recalled Zeus approaching me, granting me his aid in battle, his gift! The ability to strike down thunder on my foes, oh how I long to the time when I first slew a ghoul! The sheer joy of shattering it to a million pieces by sheer will! I recalled the Chieftain's training, how Cairne had taught me to see into the earth, how to coax it, to ask it to do my bidding, and then I recalled the promise I made, the edict I was hell-bent on fulfilling, the deal I struck with Lucifer's master. I recalled it all not with a sense of pride at what I accomplished, I recalled it in the hope that the nostalgia that it brought about was powerful enough to break this fiends grip, after all I was chosen to end the reign of his shadows once and for all, I would be the Leshrac Purifier of the Land. Instead here I am so close to victory especially after I met my demise.
I recalled the duel vividly; I recalled the flow of the water beneath my hooves, the seeping of the red staining the water, the river that was the boundary of safety. I recalled the stripping of bark off my soldiers, the skinning of the ghouls' flesh, the implosions of the necromancers as I struck them with a green bolt of magic, then I recalled his contour as he entered my sight, I recalled his arrogant poise, his evil malignant snarl, his vile ugly hands, those tainted hands that sent forth pieces of his never-ending body, a body imbued with the essence of the people he slaughtered, I know all that simply because now I am one with the slaughtered.
I recalled his taunting, the joy within me as I willed the power of Zeus to strike him, the disappointment as he vanished from sight with a puff, a mere illusion. The only thing i knew about him was that he is an evil to be purged from the world, not only because he was a great scourge leader, but because he had killed me. He killed me before yet he did not contain my soul, no he released me. He didn't grant my soul peace. He bestowed torment upon me. He didn't allow me to immerse myself with my brethren, he condemned me to a life of misery, and as the battle progressed and I approached my death I savored the sweet moment, the irony! The rejected soul, strikes the rejecter at the height of his power, is it not amusing? He shed my body away, yet I lived! Now as I travel through the air and strike him with a vengeful edict, my diabolical edict, simultaneously attacking him with nova, I watch him stand there and laugh..
How could this be? How could be laughing and weave such a powerful spell matrix? How could he create such immense power by the sheer movement of two hands? Then I understood it, the source of his giddy, he enjoyed it. He took pleas-I was cut short. Not because my spells hit, no. The sheer power of the sounds, the howls, and the noise, railed upon my spirit, I was being crushed, I felt torment, and I felt the souls pass within me, I was struck with a force so terrible I was vanquished, and all I could think of was one thing, how could he have known that I was still alive if he had not attempted to claim my soul? I had proved to my tormentor that I am worthy of his attention, and for that I was eternally and momentarily satisfied.