A/N; This is what happends when I watch far far far too much Scary Volcaloid songs and decide I want to write; I recomend 'In a Rainy Town, Balloons Dance With Devils'

The Great earls of hell- It's 72 Pillars were all Demons to fear, grotesque in their true appearance and their cruelties. (Even if these form were rarely seen due to the lack of grace they had)

They are the proudest demons known. Witches knew nothing more enjoyable then breaking them and making them scream

Ronove the 27th demon of hell had been reduced to this.

This hair was matted- caked with blood all at various levels of drying out. There was chunks of his hair as solid as rock while others were sticky with freshly flowing blood. There was too much blood more then a single human could possibly bleed out- not endless it was more than one lifetime's worth. Clumps of hair were gathered around him, the much have feel in such a strange manner as they seemed as if they were still on the scalp.

They were- there was chunks of red so very red flesh at the bottom of these clumps, as if he the flesh itself couldn't' keep together with the force his hair had been pulled with.

His Trousers were Baggy, strangely so as it was only the thighs that were really baggy, his spread legs filling out more logically at the lowest of his calf, but at his thighs there was a void in the centre, as if someone had pulled his trousers toward the centre and streamed them.

His cloths had been repaired around him- either repaired... or replaced, his shirt was pulled aside to ensure there wasn't any injuries- there was already so many surely they're couldn't be more?- and there was. A great gapeing hole in his stomach burnt through the torso, spreading downwards. Above the great hole was scratchs, tiny harmless scratches tiull they got lower the same tiny scratches digging deepder and deeper as they crossed over each other, they dug further and further till they pierced throught the liinning of the stomach and allowe the acid and gravity to eat away at him and his legs... they... they were missing large chunks as the acid had slowly crept towards the venerable and restrained legs till even most of those were melted away.

His arms were also restrained like his legs were the thickest chains in place scorpions guarding the area around him- stopping any resistance Ronove would have presented. The chains were pulling too far, far too far on his already so very tortured legs. But they weren't pulling to hard on just his legs.

They were also pulling his arms far apart; he was almost raised from the ground from the restraints.

His arms weren't normally that long were they? The skin sinks in at the elbow... the far too long elbows. The wrist and the fingers were also far too long as well. Each join was sunk in as if each joint had been force fed the sourest lemons in existence.

Something swings by his face, his torso wounds had distracted from his downward face. The swinging object was like a ball on a string, innocently swaying lightly with each movement. Look up. See exactly why there is someone playing with a bat and ball in a scene of such unspeakable horror.

The ball looks back at you.

And the Demon is smiling.

A/n There was going to be more about the person ( I'm thinking Battler personally, he'd be one of the only people in the Meta world who'd bother to look really) but I couldn't get the extension to work so ya get this.