Pinhead retracted his chains from the latest victim he had killed. The dismembered man lay in several pieces before him, scattered all over the field. Pinhead was just about to go back to his dimension when he spotted the large rock nearby. It looked extremely out of place in the otherwise empty field. It was a tall, jagged tower of stone. It could not have been there by natural means. Someone or something had to have put it there. And from the looks of it, it had been there a long time. Pinhead wondered if it was from some sort of ancient human religion. Perhaps it was all that remained of some sort of shrine. Pinhead did not care for religion. He felt an overwhelming urge to destroy the stone. Pinhead often felt the urge to destroy, and acted upon it often. His chains wrapped themselves around the massive stone, and in one swift motion pulled it down. There was a thunderous crash as it fell to the earth. Seconds after the stone had smashed into the dirt of the field, a second noise sounded off. It was loud and blood-chilling, the roar of some great beast. It a noise that Pinhead was accustomed to. But it shouldn't have been here, in the middle of a human's field. Then, something began to rise forth from the hole in which the stone had sat for millennia. Something gigantic, something that was undeniably ancient. The body was thin, but covered in rippling sinewy muscles. The skin that covered it was a dark bluish grey. The long fingers sported monstrous claws. But the body was not what Pinhead was focused on. It was the head. The head that was grotesquely large and covered with pale yellow skin. It had a shiny, smooth texture, and it looked like a moon that was rising into the sky. On the most part the sickening thing was bald, but there was a crop of stringy black hair that hung from the back. Little red mites could be seen falling out of it. The face was hideous. It had two sunken, blood-red eyes that flickered with malice. It seemed for all the world that the eyes had been gouged out, and that two smoldering coals were put in their place. Beneath them were two tiny nostrils. The thing had its mouth open. Pinhead had never seen anything so monstrous. The mouth stretched so far across the head that it seemed to split it in half. But the teeth. The teeth were huge, sharp fangs that sat in countless rows in the thing's mouth. Pinhead had seen many horrifying things in his lifetime, and so this thing didn't really frighten him. But there was something about those eyes, the eyes that looked like burning coals. They seemed to stare into Pinhead's very being, looking at everything that made him tick. Feeling a desire to know what this creature was and why it had been beneath the rock, Pinhead tried to infiltrate its mind. To his surprise he couldn't. He was, however, able to get some sort of feeling from it. This thing was old, terribly old, even by Pinhead's standards. There was a sense of raw malice and savagery, a sort of primal evil that had existed when man fled from lighting and thunder; when fears of monsters and demons ran rampant throughout the human psyche. As he sensed the sheer terror this creature had once brought to humanity, Pinhead himself was beginning to feel afraid.


After so many years of being trapped beneath the rock, Rawhead was free. He felt the dirt and burrowing insects fall from his person as he looked around. He was a little surprised to see how much the land had changed since his imprisonment all those years ago. Where mighty trees had once stood was now a massive field. As he scanned the area he spotted what looked like a human. Rawhead narrowed his eyes at it. He could see it was not a normal human. For one thing, it had several little sharp things coming out of its skull. The skin was palled like that of a corpse. The being wore clothing made entirely out of shining black leather. Rawhead was a little taken back by his appearance, but was not at all frightened. The pagan god looked down at the creature. He was certain that it was not a human now. It gave off a different scent. There was something about it that gave Rawhead a feeling that it thought it was important. Rawhead's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a huge pang of hunger. He had not eaten since his imprisonment, and was needed food as soon as possible. He looked at the being. Rawhead preferred the flesh of young humans, but he was so hungry that he didn't care.


Pinhead jumped back as the creature swiped at him with its claws. Angered, he lashed out with his chains. The hooks dug into the arm of the monster. It let out a roar of pain and fury. In one swift motion it swung its arm back and sent Pinhead flying into the ground before him. Before he could get up, he felt the creature smash his foot down on his back. The clawed toes pierced his armor and punctured the skin beneath. Pinhead sent several chains snaking up the creatures calf. It bellowed as it reached down and pulled them off. The creature suddenly stepped off of Pinhead and picked him up by the chains. Pinhead waited until the monster held him in front of itself, and sent another series of chains at its distended ribcage. His intention had been to pierce the chest cavity and remove the heart, but the chains stopped when they became caught in the creature's sinewy chest muscles. Roaring in pain an anger, the monster let go of the chains and wrapped his monstrous claws around Pinhead. The cenobite felt the true crushing power that the creature beheld. Pinhead felt several of his ribs crack. He screamed for the first time in a long while. He sent many more chains at the creature, but the more he sent, the tighter it squeezed. In one final attempt to free himself, Pinhead bashed his pin-covered skull on the creature's hands. It howled in surprise and dropped him. Free of the monster's grasp and furious it thought it could defeat him, Pinhead unleashed dozens of chains. The monster roared as the hooks caught on its skin. Pinhead smiled in triumph as he savagely yanked at the chains, forcing the monster to the ground. It screamed in agony as the hooks tore at its skin. At that moment, several more chains wrapped themselves around the beast. Pinhead turned to see his three lackeys standing behind him.

"It's about time," he muttered. His fellow cenobites looked sheepish, but were more focused on the monster they were fighting. Well, it wasn't really fighting now. It was more like torturing. The chains began to pull at the creature's limbs.


Rawhead roared as he vainly tried to force the hooks off of his body. Now there were several more beings like the first one, all throwing hooks and chains at him. Somehow he knew that they considered themselves spiritual leaders of whatever strange religion they worshiped. He saw the smile that their leader bore. It stirred the primitive, savage hate that had been building up in him for all those years of imprisonment. Rawhead felt anger for the ways and customs that had displaced him. In his mind, the beings stood for the revolution that mankind had undergone, casting aside the monsters of old and becoming monsters themselves. These new creatures that were trying to kill him reminded him very much of the prophet of the Christ-god that had defeated him so long ago. Looking upon his attackers, he realized that they meant to do the same thing. No. This would not happen again. He had been forgotten long enough. It was time to reclaim his place in the world. Finding strength in his anger, Rawhead let out a bone-chilling roar. He thrashed his body, pulling the chains of his enemies. They toppled over in surprise. Rawhead's battered and bloodied form began to rise from the ground. He tore off the chains, not even feeling the pain. His enemies looked up in what could only be fear as he charged at them. The corpulent one sent another flurry of chains in his direction. Rawhead felt them dig into his arm. The pagan demon simply grabbed them and swung his attacker over his head like a flail. The creature shrieked as he was smashed against his allies. Rawhead smashed the creature on the ground, and it violently exploded in a shower of blood and organs. Rawhead once again felt the hooks latch into his back. Turning his attention to the faceless creature, he snarled as he grabbed a hold of its neck. The chattering mouth of the creature tried to bit his spidery fingers. Rawhead ignored the pain of his back as he crushed the windpipe of his opponent. The two remaining creatures sent chains and hooks, but Rawhead didn't even feel them now. The female creature's face was alive with terror. Rawhead bellowed and brought his foot down upon her. He saw her open throat quiver as she screamed. He felt a satisfying crunch as he pivoted his foot on her corpse. Rawhead turned his attention to the one remaining creature, the creature that had first attacked him.


Pinhead took a step back, just now taking in the deaths of his minions. The cenobite stared with horror at the monster as it moved toward him. He was mesmerized by the glowing eyes. For the first time, he realized the horror that lay behind them. There was something there that caused unparalleled fear within him. For all his life of terrifying humans, he had never had that unholy spark that flicked in the monster's eyes. It was the spark of a predator, the instinctual fear of something that could kill humans as easily as a wolf killed a deer. It was a kind of fear that Pinhead had forgotten. Pinhead looked up at the monstrous being who was older than civilization itself. It roared as it charged at him. Pinhead was too terrified to fight back as it grabbed a hold of him. It savagely tore him in half, separating his lower half from his upper half. Pinhead was dropped to the ground. In his last few moments alive, he realized he had unleashed something far more terrifying than he could ever be upon humanity.


Rawhead looked over the discarded corpses with a look of triumph on his inhuman face. He bent over their corpses and smelled them. He looked away in disgust. They were poor substitutes for human flesh. Too many metal trinkets to get caught in his teeth. Grunting in disappointment he stood up. He smelled something nearby, an old familiar scent. The scent of humans. His mouth flashed a monstrous grin. He started moving to its source. As he skulked away, he stepped on and crushed a peculiar little puzzle box.