Chapter 8. The Boogeyman
The deep has a will of its own, and a call only few can refuse. The incessant depts morphs, changes according to its own twisted image of the world, where madness rules supreme, and sanity loses its purpose. Where within countless lost souls forever sucked away, and warped beyond recognition, fueling the depts and the monsters which hide within.
A level here was made, reinforced by the power of the divine and compelled by an authority the world could not refuse, hung a box of dark, and within numerous chains bound a single form.
The hour was nigh, and the grin exposing crocked teeth stretched wider and wider still as light flowed into the unlighted chamber below the shadow of creation. Where he who must be forgotten, where he who must not be named, where he who committed the ultimate sin resides.
The chains sizzled and burned, unable to contain the bound, they became nothing more than celestial vapor. An echo of a sound sent ripples throughout the dark realm as he who must forever hang took his first step, and in the next moment disappeared. The ocean of blood was parted, like Moses parted the Red Sea. And the Pallid Man flashed through vast territories.
Crash. The ocean of blood fell back into place, as an immovable object met an unstoppable force.
The loud crash was muted in the dark as the Unforgiven was halted, and his body was thrown backwards like a ragdoll. Several chains materialized and rushed forth, entangling the ancient fiend once more.
He coughed, and cursed, and pulled against the chains, but they were heavier than before.
The Pallid Man heaved in a heavy breath of nothingness and settled down. Ready to take on the challenger with a composed mind, though he could also be lenient, given they were here to help. He somehow doubted that, given their history, and all that bad blood. He sensed the presence grow, and he turned his head, and welcomed the intruder into this dark realm, forgotten by most.
Through the silhouettes of light an imposing figure stepped inside the realm, and the darkness retreated. The towering figure wore an armor which shone brighter than the sun, and twelve wings of pure energy fluttered behind his back. Behind the Angel Lord more and more Sentinels flooded the dark expanse and torched the vast space.
The Pallid Man felt good will in the air, but not the kind he was looking for. The intruders each polluted the realm with light and holy power, far too uncomfortable for the ancient fiend.
"-hhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, you are no different." The Unforgiven uttered, as the chains shrieked while he massaged his chin, feeling the pain subside, he stood back up. The chains cluttered, and barely held on as he stared into the orbs of star-fire and judged the celestial barring his leave.
Twelve wings were a symbol of the highest-level angels, once there were many, now though, he could probably count their numbers on his fingers. He killed his fair share of their race, when he still compelled the power of the Old Horns. They were more annoying than mid-level gods, but they were not unsurmountable. Although, he had to admit. These pesky old chains were getting on his nerves.
"You will die, like the rest of your brethren. For the audac-"
A shockwave sent ripples throughout the ocean of blood, as a heavy blow connected with his face, and Dolor spat out a mouthful of black blood. "Silence."
The angel towered above the bound, and the twelve wings radiated such an oppressive force of good that the fiend made of negative emotions twisted in his bounds. The Unforgiven cursed silently as his skin boiled and peeled off, only to regenerate instantly and the process started all over again.
He stared at the angel through the cracks in dimensions, and the yellow eyes began to descend into the realm. But they were soon exercised as hundreds of angels wielding flaming swords cut through them and blinded the terrible old man for the meantime. He sucked his teeth as yellow substance bled all over the ocean of red, and the gargantuan yellow eyes dispersed as one.
"You will not speak. You will not move. You will stay still and mute, as it had been decreed."
The angel turned his back, and walked a few steps away, before conjuring up a seat, and staring back at the fiend. "I do not know who was foolish enough to loosen your restrictions, but do not worry, they will be dealt with, and so will the world. A world who would allow someone to free you -even if partially- must be filled to the brim with evil, and thus must be cleansed."
The Angel Lord smirked when he caught the change in expression. It was only for a millisecond, but he could discern the subtle change. The fiend lost his smile for a moment.
"Gabriel. Come here." The angel lord called, and another angel with eight wings on her back bowed.
"Go and check on the Sentinels sent to that backwater world. Make sure everything is done right. No seed of evil must survive the holy cleansing."
"As you wish, my lord." The angel left through the shaky corridor of dim light, while the atmosphere grew heavier each second as the grin gradually morphed into a feral expression, and the Unforgiven stood. The angel lord was amused and didn't let his chance to entertain himself pass by, and delivered another heavy blow, but to his surprise the fiend stayed standing.
"You went too far boy. You went too far." The fiend muttered, and the eyeless skull turned towards the angel, who without reservation pulled out his celestial hammer and batted away the demon. The hammer was a gift from God and was forged in the core of a thousand suns. A true divine artefact.
The Pallid Man was sent flying through the vast expanse, where angels flew by the thousands, and many were not against impaling the defenseless body as it crashed into the ocean of blood. Arrows of fire, and swords of flame impaled and torn into the body of flesh, but it could not kill the fiend. He was not mortal. He does not die. He could not die.
The shaky infinite corridor shone brighter as angels kept flooding through and took up position behind the Angel Lord and waited for their master's command. Meanwhile, he shakily stood. The swords and arrows stabbed through his body gradually lost their luster, and the flames went out.
"Stay put. Your resistance is meaningless. You will only incur more pain."
"Pain?" He asked, grabbing onto the chains embedded inside his neck. "What do you know of pain?!" He yanked out the chains and they dissolved into motes of light. An unearthly shriek shook the realm, and many angels lost their will to fight as an aura darker than the darkest night ignited and raged.
They were the first to fall, as the eyeless devil flashed forward, and cleaved through the rows of angels with no resistance. By the time the angel lord reacted, hundreds were felled. And soon, thousands would follow. As with every blow the two opponents exchanged hundreds were caught up in the crossfire, and for those who did not possesses eight wings or more, interfering in this battle was synonymous with suicide.
The two opponents were roughly matched, but as time went on the Pallid Man was losing ground. The other angels, a few dozen eight winged were present, and they did their best to skewer and impale the fiend whenever they had an opening, meanwhile the pull of the realm, and the restrictions also began to take effect more aggressively and limit his movements.
If only I had my pendant.
If only I had more reserves.
If only…
The next moment the celestial hammer impacted his skull, unable to resist the blow he was sent flying, and the chains as if sensing his moment of weakness entangled the fiend. The assault, however, did not stop, as with every second a dozen spears- and swords impaled his body, as it useless tumbled and buckled. The last thing he felt was another hit by the celestial hammer, when all light went out, and despair ruled supreme. Confusion soon filled the realm, as echoes rebounded on invisible walls, and something more horrific crawled out from the depts below.
The Pallid Man resorted to seeking aid, and IT ascended from the bottomless pit.
I offer a sacrifice, o' depts below,
O' nightmare of the abyss,
Hear me and come,
For I am Afraid.
Bogeyman, first of Nightmares.
(…)
There was a continuous assault of pain, however his accursed body could not be erased, and the true seals of flesh and blood could never be lifted with the measly power of archangels.
The Pallid Man grimaced as another blow fractured his jaw, and it instantly regenerated. The pain lingered; the wounds were gone. And thus, hit after hit, the Pallid Man grew weaker, and weaker, and finally, he realized they would not stop. It mattered not that he resisted no longer, they would not stop. And if they would not stop and return to their worlds… he would not get the chance to check on his little helper. He resolved himself, he had no choice. No alternative to turn towards, the sentient dark, however good servant it may be, could not hear his call. Must be the doing of those accursed celestials. They must be responsible. They must be punished. Pain. Pain. All that is left…
The spluttering of blood, and the sound of bones cracking was interrupted by a weird melody. The vast expense dimmed noticeably, and the surface of the ocean of blood rippled and waved.
The angels' attention was pulled elsewhere, as the body of the Pallid Man grew lax, and the divine chains intertwined the body with relative ease. Below the Unforgiven, below the waves of red, the bottomless pit was loud, and it was shaking.
A dark hand broke the crimson surface, and a silhouette gradually crawled itself out of the pit. The newcomer wore a tattered black cape, and a massive hood cast a shadow over its visage. Hidden beneath the dark hood; rust colored tentacles wriggled ceaselessly, as if tasting the air.
The next moment, dozens, hundreds, thousands of tentacles exploded forth from beneath the tattered cape, and the angels had no time to react. They impaled, and grabbed onto the celestials, and dragged them inside the darkness of the cape. Their struggle was meaningless, their cries of horror, and begs of mercy fell on deaf ears as the monster consumed them whole.
The angel lord fared no better, he could not resist the pull, and through the maws of the abyss, he too was consumed. When the lights had gone out, there remained two in the realm of dark. One in chains, and the other in tatters. The Boogeyman stood there for a long second before a horrible screech made the ocean ripple and the realm shake. Pieces of the corridor began to fell, and the ceiling collapsed onto the dark realm, where the Pallid Man smirked unseen in the shadows.
The executioner sniffed the air again and again, but there was no trace anymore. No trace of the great fear—of the great feast it was promised. The Boogeyman crawled back inside the bottomless pit and waited for another feast. For fear was ancient, it was there in all, and he would be the one to eventually consume all. For he was the Boogeyman, and fear gave him life.
A/N:
I'm happy with the positive feedback this story received so far.
Review! Let me know what you think!
I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.
There have been some delays, since university works differently than I initially presumed, namely I got 2 exams every single week till mid-December, so updates will be sparse. But so long as there are those who would like to read on, I will be there.
Next chapter (release date 2+weeks) will focus on Nazarick and the New World at large.
Power levels will be adjusted and somewhat explained from Ainz's POV in next chapter. He will face a challenge. : )
This chapter also took longer to write, since the first one was scrapped because I felt that it would destroy any suspense/mystery. (It was an origin story for the Unforgiven, though later, maybe I'll include bits and pieces as the story progresses.)
Take care, Eternity 999.