PRIDE RING, LAKE OF SOULS
1 DAY POST-EXTERMINATION
THE FALLEN
—
In the depths of a furious sea, innumerable humans slumbered. Each found their place in these waters through crimes rejecting the decree of Heaven. They were the damned, the forgotten.
They were sinners.
Some were light as driftwood, possibly resulting in weaker, more "human" demons. They would find the shores fast. Some, however, were denser than stars, brought to the bottom to disintegrate slowly over the eons. Adam was one of those powerful, terrible few.
Then, it may have been the end of his story. If not for a strong, random undercurrent sweeping the muddy bed of the lake.
His mind lay dormant and recuperating. As his shard was blown through the water, it curved upwards in a long, large arc.
Predators lurked here. Some swam freely, carnivores at the top of the food chain. Others scuttled along the bottom, sweeping for any sunk shards to consume. It was a thriving hellish ecosystem.
Adam reached the surface of the water once more, as a countless, never-ending rain of other souls fell around him. Caught in a large, twenty-foot wave, he was blown closer towards some red lights on the horizon, which seemed to line the shore. Too small to be a city, maybe a town?
As the hours passed, his shard sank and surfaced in regular intervals, completely at the mercy of the waves. Eventually, now less than a hundred meters from the shore, the metaphorical seed took root.
This part of the lake was much more calm. Almost a bog, lined with gelatinous organic matter under the water surface, just a few feet deep.
It was there that Adam was stuck, alongside a few other lucky shards.
First, sprouting like shoots from a tuber, the beginnings of a nervous system grew from the shard. Spreading like a fungus it accumulated as a mess of mycelium-like strands. Debris from the lakebed was consumed rapidly to feed this growth.
Next came the cardiovascular system. Veins, arteries, and pathways for lymph grew along the nervous system. They ended in a single strange accumulation, then another. Twin embryonic hearts, which began to beat eight hours after Adam's seeding. They were symmetrical along his body's center.
Support structures grew muscle and bone, acting as the framework and mechanism for movement of the body. Bones arose from cartilage, joints from their further joining. Muscle tissue grew the slowest, accumulating in areas of great stress and occasional contractions. This corresponded to Adam's fitful sleep.
An accumulation of nervous tissue at one end of the mass would become the brain. Now with a defined head and tail end, growth exponentially increased. It was as if the body finally had direction to its final form.
Complex organs with even more complex functions, such as the kidneys, liver, pancreas, and intestinal tract began development. The lungs were of most importance, and once the cavity that soon developed into a mouth opened, they filled with the water of the lake. All in all, Adam was having a new body grown from the inside-out.
The other human souls went through a similar process to obtain their physical forms. Some developed faster, some slower. A few were particularly large or small, but they were errant special cases. Many were horribly deformed, with curling, poisonous horns, fangs so large their mouth would not close, or skin that sizzled and boiled with acid. Their insides on Earth reflected their outsides here.
That's how a human became a demon.
Lower skin layers began covering Adam's growing body. Pockets of fat lined bone and muscle, and microscopic capillaries grew into them.
At his head, durable, shingle-like plates formed a skull. Poking slowly through it came ram horns. They grew upwards, and then sharply back. They curved in on themselves once, twice, thrice. These were massive, bigger than Adam's head, and increased his body's prodigious length. Starting with a rusty bronze, the horns slowly lost color along their lengths. At the tips, they finished with a rosy gold.
Nervous tissue further developed to form the auditory and visual systems. Eye sockets filled with a gelatinous material, which congealed to produce eyes that glowed red under their lids.
As bone growth continued, pointy, razor-sharp teeth lined Adam's mouth. This was a staple of Hell's residents. His chin was pointy, tilted slightly forwards and making his face (and grin) seem larger than it appeared.
From his head down, the coloration of his face developed into a milky off-white, which reddened into a pink along his extremities. Muscles bulged and pushed up against his skin, not too grotesquely. He had always been a lean man, and that seemed to also be true in Hell.
Ending at his arms and legs were curved claws, built for manipulation of a weapon, yet still adept in unarmed offense. Each had its hardened flesh coloured a deep, scarlet red up to the wrist, in contrast with the pale pink that the rest of him was.
Continuing further down, at various bony prominences on his body were little outgrowths. Short, stubby spines that grew out of his shoulders and hips, along his back.
Powerful muscles followed down his legs, ending in two clawed feet. Unlike other demons, they were not hooves or goat-like in any manner, but more reminiscent of a reptile, or a dragon. They curled inwards, straining as Adam's body engaged in random contractions.
The revolting process seemed to be coming to an end. This included the connections from his body to the outside lake withering away, like an umbilical cord separating from a newborn. His body twitching erratically, occasionally. In that lake, surrounded by hundreds of other growing demons, Adam lay. The water was tinged red with blood. Rebirth was never a pretty process.
—
Adam slumbered, even still fully-formed as he was. He dreamt of meat and teeth, of gibbering horrors behind the veil of reality. His normally carefree and joking mind was enveloped in a cloud of fear and somber. There was little coherence, little understanding of his circumstances or surroundings.
From above the waterline, a spotlight focused on the man. A boat, it seemed.
Two sinners walked aboard. One carried a massive, seven-foot long harpoon. Another was at the vessel's rear end, steering it with something that looked suspiciously like a pirate's wheel.
"Hold 'er steady, JIM!" The smaller harpoon-wielder yelled.
"Yes, yes. I know." The larger one said, with clear exasperation.
Both were smartly, old-fashionedly dressed. They had cheap, plastic aprons and rubber boots that clashed with that style, however. With beady, black, hungry eyes, absent of any sclera, they leered down at Adam's sleeping form. Cannibals.
"Make sure to get 'em in the heart. Looks like a big 'un."
"Another wonderful observation. Why don't you stop drooling over my boots and let me focus?" The larger demon snarked.
The smaller one quieted down, wiping the saliva that dripped from his open mouth.
The demon named Jim clambered on the boat's walls, heaving the harpoon just over Adam's body. He aimed slightly center-left, expecting to instantly kill the new arrival.
Most new-bloods were, as a result of their comatose state, very easy to catch. After that, their meat would be processed, their shards extracted, and many barbeques or bakes had.
Most mortal souls had their last few moments before death wiped. This was a safeguard against illness of the mind, provided to all souls. As such, they were not in a frenzied state when aroused, but acted more like being woken up from a very long nap. Lethargic, confused. Even if they survived the first 'pooning, they would not last much longer.
Adam's situation (and "death") were a little more unorthodox. It merely looked like he was sleeping. Covered by the dark of night, the two cannibals did not notice the way his muscles tensed or how his teeth ground. His mind was active, on edge, and just waiting for something to antagonize it.
The short cannibal threw the harpoon down. In a masterful shot, it pierced through Adam's left lung and heart, before burying itself into the muck.
The new demon's eyes shot open in shock. The pain startled him, and Adam attempted to do the first thing every newborn did. He breathed in.
Only to get a throatful of water, which he appropriately choked on for a second. Grasping for the pain at his chest, Adam grabbed the harpoon impaling him. He stared down at it in confusion. Then, he looked at his hands. I have a body? He was completely oblivious to the utter panic above him, with both cannibals trying their best to get (the Hell) away from him.
Adam tugged. The harpoon dislodged itself from the sediment easily. However, it took him a few painful tries to get it through his armored body. The adrenaline from his initial injury covered up the pain from movement.
Adam struggled to get his bearings, and to stand up. His sense of balance and gravity was distorted, and the prodding thought at the back of his mind was just to get some air.
The man grasped the slippery ground underneath him, flexing his new claws for the first time. Then, he rose through the water line, throwing his head back in exaltation as he took in a breath of air into his damaged lungs. The water spray thrown from his body glistened in the boat's spotlight.
The boat.
He was standing now, even unsteadily. He waded through the water completely unclothed, taking sharp, short breaths, which were painful going in and out.
After the short relief of being alive again, Adam was filled with rage. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the two fucks on the boat tried to kill him.
Let's fuck shit up.
The boat was currently stuck, both demons straining comically to retrieve the anchor. As they watched Adam's shadowed form grow larger, their fear grew as well.
"It's comin'! Abandon ship!" the smaller one called out.
"No, don't!...you idiot." His voice trailed off as Adam leapt atop the boat, his nearly seven-foot stature towering over the cannibal. The creature gulped, remaining silent.
With the wobbly gracelessness of a newborn, Adam grasped the demon's head without resistance. Testing his newly-formed body, he squeezed. And squeezed. After a few seconds of straining, the cannibal let out a yelp. His head crumpled, pieces of skull and viscera flying over and staining the boat. The night air would have been silent once more, if not for the faint sound of treading water in the horizon.
Adam shot a disinterested glance toward the other demon. Holding a harpoon aloft, tossing it in one hand, he felt the weight of the weapon. Heaving it back over his shoulder, the angel-turned-demon threw it through the air. It careened in a beautiful arc, before piercing the middle of the other cannibal's back, easily fifty meters away. The water went still.
Adam stood on the boat. He looked down, examining his new form. He ran his claws over his legs and torso, streaking them with faint smudges of blood. His face twisted into confusion, then horror as he took in all of his form's details. And when he looked around him. Where he was, how he got here.
The demon fell to his knees. He put his head down, holding it in his hands.
His wings were gone. His halo was gone. His very identity, his immortality, all of it was lost.
The man left out a soft whimper, choking back tears. His hands hid wide, terrified eyes. Suddenly, a strong ache of pain pushed through Adam's chest.
Adam looked down once again. In his chest, still painful, was a wound. A gaping hole where one of his upper left ribs should've been. He experimentally prodded it.
…what?
It ceased being painful. Looking closer, the fallen angel could see that it was clean, scarred over. This wasn't an injury he had sustained. This was a feature of his body.
Adam had not realized it yet, but there were two similar wounds along his back, right where his wings would have been.
That rib had been taken from him many millennia ago. Yet, it had healed with any number of the heavenly powers he deserved. Why would he still have it?
He realized. This was a mark of shame. Of punishment. Of sin.
To that, Adam only had one word, which he said aloud to noone in particular:
"Fuck."
—
Adam stood atop the boat for a long time. He sat there, next to the cannibal's cooling corpse. He thought about a lot. He questioned a lot more. And he had no answers.
Why was he here? Why did he look like this?
What was the monster that lurked in his dreams?
Adam shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. His arm muscles tensed, and his legs bounced under him. Filled with energy, you would've never guessed that he'd been dead just a few hours before.
Shit.
He stood up. Forcing his eyes open, the demon looked with plain disgust at his surroundings. He had always hated Hell, how it looked, how it smelled, everyone in it.
Now he was the exact same.
His expression of disgust quickly morphed into one of concern, as he viewed several larger barges, with spotlights focusing on the water just a few meters from the boat. Where the floating corpse of his second victim lay.
Scanning in every other direction, he could see these massive boats approaching from every direction. Some were easily five times his ship's size. With his sensitive hearing, Adam could just barely hear the clamoring of bloodthirsty cannibals.
Time to go.
Adam stretched his arms into the air, preparing to escape certain death. On that note, he checked his chest, expecting to see an open, bleeding wound. Strangely, it seemed scarred over and healed. Neat.
Gracefully leaping over the boat's railing, Adam spread his arms out. If he let himself forget, just for the briefest fraction of a second, he could pretend he was flying. The bliss did not last long.
Adam swam. With powerful, slow strokes, he practically flew through the water. With the strong waves, his head often remained under the water. Surfacing only to breathe occasionally, Adam expected not to be caught.
However, he would be mistaken. As soon as another spotlight locked onto his form, the demon quickened his pace. Briefly glimpsing land, Adam was disappointed to see how far away it was. Then, a massive, long metal rod pierced the water just in front of him.
Freezing in alarm, Adam looked up to see multiple of the same projectiles breaking the surface of the water. All dangerously close. He cursed under his breath, kicking his legs frantically to build the momentum back for his escape.
In the pursuit, Adam had to swim in a zig-zag motion, attempting to avoid the motion of several spotlights now. He could hear them coordinating, screaming into a shitty, old-timey sound system to each other. He never had time to look back. The demon could only imagine the hundreds of hungry, glowing eyes mentally skinning his naked back.
Land got closer, yet seemed further and further as Adam swam. His muscles ached in pain, pushed to their breaking point mere hours after their creation. Behind him, the roaring, creaking metal motors vibrated the water. He was so close now that he could make out the individual words of the demons.
He countered these with his own. Between each gasping breath, Adam was spiteful enough to swear death upon each of them. The foul-mouthed demon let out every curse he had ever learned throughout his long life. And there were a lot of them.
—
By the time he had gotten to the more modern swears, the shore was less than a hundred meters in front of him. Yet every ship on the lake was now bearing down behind him. There were approximately twenty, maybe more. Each had several mounted lights, suggesting that if Adam was spotted again, it would result in his death.
Hence, his strategy had changed. He could no longer outswim the cannibals. He could, however, move underneath the smaller boats. Those with motors weak enough to not pull him in.
His claws dug into the barnacled wood, gripping against the massive force of water pushing against the keel. Adam could not see, and once surfaced only had moments to escape.
Deciding enough time had passed, the demon brought his exhausted body to work one last time. Pushing off the boat with enough force to crack the wood, Adam moved with inhuman speed towards the shoreline.
He could feel the sandy bank under his feet as he walked, clambering out of the water, like a man half-drowned. Shouting followed Adam as he awkwardly began to run, breathing in and out madly. The solid ground beneath his feet felt very good.
There were a few half-hearted harpoons fired his way, hitting the humid dirt beneath his feet. However, after running quite a bit, Adam could see no pursuit.
Strange.
The black, sandy beach had changed to loamy, moist soil. Small, thick bushes and tall grasses led to tall, gnarled trees. They had few leaves, and curled menacingly in the purple-tinted night sky.
His run turned into a jog, which then turned into a walk. Adam could appreciate the scenery, now not in mortal danger. It had been a long time since he had been in a forest. Heaven hadn't much in the way of greenery, unless you grew it yourself.
Thinking of those golden heights instantly soured Adam's mood. He grumbled to himself a little, but mainly got back to walking through the forest. He needed to get to demon "civilization", a stepping stone to Heaven. He hoped, with all of his being, that this was a mistake that could be fixed.
The trees grew thicker, obscuring the sky. The roots below his feet did the same, and the demon would have tripped, if not for his agility.
He noticed that too. He kept some of his heavenly abilities. He wasn't fully mortal, even after this whole shitshow. But, would it really be correct to call them heavenly now?
Adam continued this self-flagellation. After all, if feeling sorry for yourself was a competition, the former angel would've gotten gold.
He hummed a ballad under his breath as he clambered over the increasingly rough terrain. His escape turned into a mindless trek, clambering over fallen trees, boulders, and masses of dirt in the darkness. The angel-turned-demon had little sense of direction. He kept wanting to fly up and get a better view, but that was bitterly out of his reach.
So, the only thing he could do was walk forward. And hope he was going somewhere.
Adam kept walking. Much easier than swimming. Much easier to tune out your surroundings.
That was, until he heard it.
The faintest rustle. Maybe from a branch, maybe from some debris on the forest floor.
Adam perked up his head, his head swiveling in the direction of the sound.
That's when he noticed just how utterly quiet it was. Not the faintest hint of wind or ambient noise. That was bad. Adam had hunted for food for a regrettably long period of his human life. When everything got quiet, some predator was nearby. Usually it was him.
Maybe not now.
A click in the darkness.
BANG!
Adam threw himself to the ground. Just a split second after, the air above him ignited, lit aflame and smelling of acrid gunpowder.
A smoldering hole lay in the tree just to Adam's side. Easily working out where the shot came from, the demon took cover.
This was bad. No weapons, no armor. Tired. Hardly an ideal position. Adam was used to fighting with an overwhelming advantage. Until recently, he had never faced much opposition. And Heaven was literally the opposite of a training ground.
Oh well. No better time to learn than now.
"Hey SHITBIRD!" Adam yelled out into the darkness. He broke off a long, pointy stick of a tree. "You wanna fuck with ME, you're gonna need to do better than THAT!" The demon jabbed his thumb at himself, emphasizing the point.
Maybe a taunt would draw the hunter out of the darkness?
BLAM!
Another gunshot rang out into the night, enough answer in itself. It was buried directly opposite of Adam's head in the thick tree where he took cover.
His head flitted out from behind the tree occasionally, scanning the night air. Nothing.
He could hear movement, just from his left. He prepared to move, then stopped himself. The demon heard another sound, this time from his right.
Were they surrounding him?
Plan B. The first sentence on the first paragraph of the first page of Tactics 101 was: "if all else fails, retreat."
Keeping his head down, Adam ran further into the forest, where he could hear no sounds of movement.
He had never run so fast, and maintained a now-familiar zig-zag motion. The occasional gunshot rang out into the night air, but the flash was usually off in the distance.
The former angel stopped in a clearing. He could hear nothing, except…
A massive green blur threw itself into him, punting Adam into a particularly hard tree. Ow.
"Was gettin' impatient there. Up now, sweetheart. We ain't done here."
He detested the nickname, and made that known by throwing a punch towards the newly-revealed demon. He had gotten up pretty fast.
Not fast enough, though. His opponent was fast enough to move back, just out of range. It chuckled, as if laughing at Adam's attempt to protect himself.
The creature was large, a little taller than Adam, but much wider, much more muscled. It was clearly crocodilian, with thick, plated scales running down its entire body, a projected snout, and a thick, long tail. Definitely did not fit the cannibal phenotype.
Standing next to the demon was a smaller one, more human-looking, and clinging to the other's right leg. In its hand, a hatchet. It gave a bloodthirsty, unnerving grin.
Moving as soon as the new demon made its appearance, Adam made it look like he was going for a swipe around the larger demon's neck.
Quickly ducking out of the way of its swipe, Adam pivoted around the back of the crocodile-thing. Hefting his sharp stick, he attempted to shove it through his opponent's side.
Unfortunately, the stick was promptly cut in half by the smaller sinner's bullet-quick ax.
Jumping back from the crocodile, Adam took a moment to analyze the situation. The little shit was point defense, and the big shit was the tank. Okay. He could work with this.
Running forward, he charged the smaller sinner. Preparing a large kick, the crocodile was quick to act, pulling his impish ally out of harm's way. However, with the brief distraction that provided, Adam could get a quick elbow in on the thing's teeth. The shattering sound they made was music to his ears, but he moved speedily to get out of range once more.
"Ah FUCK!" The croc-demon roared. Adam was unimpressed so far.
The drooling idiot lumbered forward, unthinking in blind rage. Adam noticed the smaller one having difficulty hanging on, and acted quickly.
Adam leaned back, quick enough to dodge the crocodile demon's deadly swipe. Unfortunately, the weakling got too close to Adam's outstretched claw. He was easily grabbed, and thrust in the direction of the unseen hunter. That clicking sound the gun's trigger made seemed awfully loud, after all.
K-THOOM!
The smaller demon was obliterated, taking the shot meant for Adam. It covered him and the crocodile-thing with blood and guts. A brief look of fear flitted across its face. A grin found itself on Adam's.
Oh yeah, still got it.
"HE WAS MY FRIEND!" the reptilian demon roared, delivering a mean punch to Adam's abdomen. Almost doubling over, Adam got as far out of its reach as possible. The smirk never left his face.
"Cry me a river, ya little bitch." That taunt worked as it was meant to.
Now, his opponent's strikes were still very strong. Stronger than before, if Adam was being honest with himself (he usually wasn't). But, even if the thing had height on him, it didn't have speed. Especially intoxicated with anger as it was.
He rolled out of the way of the crocodile's club-like blow, then ducked under a swipe. Vaulting himself off of a tree just behind him, Adam jumped just over the demon. Its kick still went forward, lodging itself in the hardwood.
Not missing his chance, the first man swept the demon's single leg out from under him.
This worked as expected, sending it snout-first onto the ground. Adam forgot about the thing's tail, though. Easily sweeping upward, it landed a strong, soul-crushing hit on his crown jewels.
Heaving, the first man tried not to throw up his empty stomach mid-fight. That was the downside of fighting naked.
Not noticing the multitude of sounds approaching him, Adam was swarmed by smaller demons. Each one seemed more human in appearance, with patchwork armor. However, no specific details could be focused on for long.
Each took their time heaving back small blades, scythes, and even a rake. What the hell were they, farmers? In the forest? What? Confusion was his primary emotion.
Adam was bombarded with weak blow after weak blow. He took them all gladly, though. Just more meat shields against the hunter. And they barely cut his flesh, anyway.
Taking three seconds to recover from his bruised balls, the demon grasped two of his assailant's heads. Doing his new, signature crushing move dissuaded the others from attacking further. Taking in their expressions, Adam felt his lips upturn. He was starting to get fond of that.
Getting distracted, the demon was a second too late to react to the sucker-punch thrown his way. He could see the crocodile's righteous fury as it knocked out one of his teeth. Fair is fair.
The two went over a decline in the ground, tumbling down a small hill. All around them were exclamations of combatants. Some were jeers, some were screams of horror. All par for the course, and all directed towards Adam.
They swiped at each other's faces, attempting to gouge out eyes or carve open mouths. Adam's opponent had very short, strong claws. They left more bruises than cuts, but still hurt like a motherfucker.
Somehow, Adam had weirdly crammed his fist in the crocodile's mouth. At that point, it had become obvious to both that no one was worrying overly about technique. The winner of this battle would be decided by strength.
At that, the crocodile managed to pin Adam onto his back. Sitting his big ass on the former angel's chest, all the strength was sapped out of him easily.
Fist after fist flew at Adam's face, which remained undefended as he struggled beneath the crocodile. His opponent thought it futile. There was no way he could be dislodged.
Fortunately, that was not what Adam was trying to do.
At the end of the croc-demon's little outburst, he finally deigned to offer the seemingly-defeated Adam a few words.
"Not so tough now, are ya." The demon leaned in for dramatic effect, "ya little - GAH!"
A small, pilfered blade found its way into his belly. Monologuing was one of Adam's favorite pastimes, but he only loved it if he was the one doing it.
The demon leapt back, wheezing. Hmm. Adam aimed a little high, and may have punctured a lung. For good measure, once back at his full height, he kicked down his opponent. If he survived or not, well. That was for fate to decide.
Now, to make my great escape.
"Halt." An accented voice ordered.
"Shit."
—
Too gothic. That's what Adam thought of the demon now blocking his path.
Large, vampiric wings spread to their full width, blocking his path forward. Easily one, two meters long, they made Adam feel a little jealous. And inadequate. Two blood-red eyes locked with his, strangely similar-looking. Pale, near-translucent flesh. Unarmored. Nearly completely covered by a formless, black cloak. She didn't look like much of a fighter.
Adam knew, because the voice was distinctly female. And really, thickly russian.
No problem. All nationalities died the same.
Taking a step forward, Adam's eyebrow quirked up incredulously. The little bitch blocking his path looked unfazed.
"I do not recommend this course of action," she said, again in that stupid voice.
Adam stopped taking orders when he died. He wasn't about to start again for this bitch.
Drawing back his arm for a devastating cleave, the demon was surprised when he found it got stuck there. Just behind his back, his arm wouldn't move. Neither would the rest of his body.
That's when he noticed the little fizzle of electricity connecting him to the bat-like demon. Witch, he corrected himself. He hated witches, a lot. Like, a lot a lot. For good reason.
Almost looking bored, the witch pulled Adam's paralyzed form along, to the nearest tree. A crowd formed around them, of smaller and larger demons. Some were armed, some weren't. The sheer number of them surprised Adam somewhat. Where had they been hiding this many?
Then, the witch set Adam next to a tree. And began moving her finger back and forth, towards and away from it. This consequently slammed Adam's form into the tree. Over and over again.
SLAM!
SLAM!
SLAM!
He couldn't move, couldn't speak. The demon couldn't even breathe, most of the wind knocked out of him by the third smash.
SLAM!
SLAM!
SLAM!
SLAM!
The pain finally started to eek in by the seventh hit. Over and over, Adam could feel his skin splitting against the splintering wood. His bones creaked and snapped. Luckily, his right arm and shoulder took the brunt of the force away from his head.
All around him, the crowd was cheering. Screaming insults.
Laughing.
That was like pouring gasoline on an open fire. Adam was filled with mindless, impotent anger. He couldn't do anything. He tried so hard, to maintain the focus to move even a pinky.
Slowly, crushingly slowly, he bent his left pinky. Elation.
SLAM!
Then, after a few other smashes, his ring finger bent. Then his middle one. And so on.
SLAM!
Finally, a flicker of interest in the witch's eyes. That would've felt gratifying, if it wasn't currently so humiliating to Adam. She was killing one of the most important beings in the universe, and didn't realize it! It felt so unfair to him.
His left hand finally curled into a fist. She promptly dropped him onto the ground.
His towering, terrifying demonic form had been brought low. His right arm was crushed, unmoving, with bone poking out of several areas. His chest was completely purple from the bruises, and had the occasional twig sticking out of it. One of his eyes had swelled up, completely closed. All in all, he looked completely defeated.
He still heard the laughing from the crowd, though now significantly quieted. It was still enough.
Rage filled him once more. Adam tried to reach up to grab the witch, only to be met with a torrent of lightning.
It was blue in color, very loud, and lit up the forest like a large, luminous beacon. The massive crowd around the confrontation was illuminated, easily showing near a hundred faces, all around Adam.
Even in this massive display of power, she still managed to look bored. The witch outstretched only one hand, as if to humiliate him further.
He lay prone on the ground for a few moments. His skin sizzled, bubbling softly, like a piece of meat being cooked on low heat.
No.
With all of his strength, he pulled his body forward. Adam dug his claws into the ground, even though he was practically buried in the lightning. It felt like standing at the bottom of a waterfall, he imagined.
I'm not dying here.
The witch did nothing to hide her "shock" (heh), as she watched Adam steadily bring himself onto his feet. Once, twice, he fell back down. But he never stayed down for long. Even as his physical body burned to a crisp around him, he never bent.
Adam looked into her eyes. For a brief moment, she glimpsed the unfathomable years of life and afterlife he had experienced. She saw sadness, fear, happiness, but primarily rage.
And she understood.
The lighting stopped.
For a brief moment, all were silent in the forest. Adam didn't say anything either. He did not have the strength. The only sound that was audible, was his body crashing back onto the ground.
Walking slowly, the witch turned to look him over for a moment.
Finally, this obscenely powerful demon uttered another sentence.
"You pass. Goodnight."
What the actual fuck? Adam thought. He was beside himself with rage and confusion, two things that seemingly should have canceled each other out.
Then, the witch tapped his forehead with her delicate nail.
And the first man went into the darkness once more.
—