Disclaimer: Hey, guess who doesn't own Knuckles the Echidna (and related characters/locations) or Diablo?  All the people who are reading this and myself, that's who!  KtE and all related characters are © Sega/Archie (gonna use the comic info as much as possible), Diablo and all related (official) characters are © Blizzard Entertainment.  

Which is the right path, as I stand upon

this chaotic crossroad of hate…

How many ways are there to roam

on this dark and damned road of Fate

"There are many ways, my son,

to find where the souls of Demons remain…

But it takes only one second of despair and of doubt

until at last, your soul, they will gain…

Inherit these lands, these things, these dreams

that are yours, forever, to adore…

For there is no life, in the depths of chaos, my son,

for you to explore…"

A lone figure walked through the wastelands, knowing that they would one day be restored to their former glory, be it jungle, fields, or even desert.  Anything different would be a compliment to the bloody fields that lay before him.  Knowing that he had been the one to draw much of that blood, and even knowing that much of it was his own, he walked through it with a sense of pride, knowing that his bravery and honor had saved his realm.  The realm of Sanctuary was spared from Evil.

            The hero had fought his way through Anguish in the moors of Khanduras, aiding the Sisters of the Sightless Eye regain their monastery that guarded the Eastern gate.  He had trekked through Pain as he traveled the scorching deserts of Aranoch, helping the people Lut Gholein, to reclaim their port city.  He had overcome Hatred as he braved the jungles of Kehjistan to restore the capital of Kurast.  He had conquered Destruction as he climbed the mountains of Entsteig and brought honor back to the Barbarian Tribes of Mount Arreat.  And finally, he had traveled to the very heart of the Burning Hells to face Terror itself.

            "Now, Lord of Terror, feel the ultimate wrath of the Light!" cried the noble hero as he plunged his blade deep into the hide of the hulking demon before him.  The massive beast cried out not only in pain, but also in defeat, knowing that this was the end to all ends.  With a horrific shriek, the demon crumbled and fell to the ground, breaking apart into nothing but ashes.  The last of the Prime Evils had been defeated, and banished into the Dark Abyss with his brothers.  And with that, the hero returned home, knowing that he had earned his salvation in life and beyond. 

"I have walked the paths; the shadowed roads

that led to Terror's breast.  I have plumbed the depths of

Hatred's womb and scaled Destruction's crest.

For every secret left unveiled, for every power learned,

I'd sell the remnants of my soul, regardless how it burned.

And still I sought a higher wisdom few could have attained.

Though I found it, it would leave me – broken, damned and drained.

For now I find this power gained is more unto a curse.

My spirit burns with every spell and each irreverent verse.

Despite this strength and knowledge earned, I have paid a heavy toll,

Never should've traded power for my own immortal soul."

Over four thousand years have passed since the day that led to this event.  The day when Mortals from the realm of Sanctuary took up arms and made a stand against the Three Prime Evils of Hell.  The battles were fierce, and many were killed.  But, the Three were finally vanquished, this time for good.  Or so was believed.  If only Mortal Man had realized the full power of the Three, and that their influence could reach beyond the stars and into other realms. 

The true power of the Three lies not in their destructive powers, but in their ability to manipulate and corrupt even the noblest and purest of souls.  For through those souls, they can attain powers and advantages that give them more terrible strengths and control over entire armies that were once against them.  And it is because of this influence that they were never truly vanquished.  They will return, and the realm unfortunate enough to receive them will feel the full fury of the Burning Hells…

TERROR AWAKES

"Hello!?  Is there anyone here?"  cried the Guardian Knuckles as he made his way through this maze he found himself trapped in.  As he ran further and deeper into this mystery labyrinth, he found that it was growing darker, and the temperature fluxuations from hot to cold to hot again became even more extreme.  Finally, he reached what appeared to be a long stretch of hallway.  From the other end, he could hear unholy screams of pain and anguish, many of which sounded like his friends and family.  Quickly, he began running to the end, but it only seemed to grow further away.

            Finally, he reached the end of the hallway, and was faced with a right turn.  The sounds were now unbearable, and words could now be made out through the moaning and screaming…

"Please, stop!!"

"Kill me!! Please!"

"HELP ME!"

"No, please! Don't!!"

He could not longer take the pleas, and braced himself as he took that right turn, only to be faced with another right.  He noticed the ground was sticky, and looked down to see the pools of blood he was standing in.  Fear was now beginning to reveal itself in the form of sweat and trembling.  'Okay Knuckles, there's only one direction you can go here, so turn.  Come on…TURN!!'  The Guardian now found himself staring down a dark hall.

'These walls… they can't be made of… blood and bone?'  And they were made of just that, fresh blood dripping from the bones protruding through the walls.  As Knuckles found himself wanting to vomit, the hall began to glow red, and the walls were pulsing like a giant heartbeat.  Then the voice came…

"You cannot escape…There is no way to evade my wrath…"

Knuckles, now trembling with sheer terror, looked to the end of the hall, where two, yellow eyes opened, and a deafening roar like that of no earthly beast shook the walls.  The ground began to tremble, as if something of gigantic stature was charging towards him.  And just as the eyes were about to be followed by the form possessing them…

"NO!"  Knuckles looked around him, only to find himself back in his home.  He looked next to him, and Julie-Su was still sound asleep.  This seemed to calm him, but he was still trembling and drenched with sweat.  This was the fifth night he had suffered that nightmare, and it got more real each night.  He got out of the bed slowly, so as not to wake his love. 'Not like she can be waken up anyways…'  He chuckled at that thought, and proceeded to the bathroom to rinse the sweat off his body.  As he stepped into the shower, many thoughts were running through his head, such as why he was suffering these nightmares, and what they meant.

After he dried off, he got back into bed, but planned not to fall asleep again.  Just then, he heard a voice next to him. 

"Where were you?" asked Julie-Su, still groggy as she had just woken up.

"Oh, I was just taking a shower.  I was feeling dirty, that's all," replied Knuckles, which caused Julie-Su to smirk.

"And you didn't invite me?  Shame on you!"  They both chuckled, and Julie-Su was asleep again shortly.  But Knuckles was still awake, afraid to fall asleep and suffer the nightmare again. 

'No worries…I can go for a week without sleep.  Just have to keep fighting it.'  Little did the Guardian know that soon enough, he would be fighting something far more terrible than sleep…

AN: That's right, folks!  Terror Awakes is back and hopefully here to stay.  It's going to be a whole different animal than the last one, so watch out!  Certain happenings in the past year have allowed me to explore the darker side of my imagination, so don't be surprised if it gets a little disturbing at times.  Well, until the next chapter, so long!  Also, I would like to credit the poems The Initiate and The Advent to C. Vincent Metzen.