Into the Abyss

Originally, the storming troops had thought the demon an illusion summoned by their own wizards, thus they paid it no heed and simply finished butchering the last of Lenamare’s soldiers, and tried unsuccessfully to nail the witch on the wagon. They ignored it, that was, until it began ripping them to shreds. It moved with lightning speed. Arms, legs, heads, it didn’t matter, the demon ripped them all off the soldiers, indiscriminately.

∼

Gastropé staggered up, finally freeing himself from the spot where he’d damn near been strangled to death by those weeds. Damn glad someone killed the turd of a wizard, he thought as he stepped out from behind his boulder. Now what was all the noise going on down there? He’d seen Carlisle and Gleston under attack by lightning on the other side of the valley, he didn’t have much hope for them, the attack had seemed fairly devastating. The valley was quite red. There seemed to be blood everywhere.

“What the Abyss?” he asked as he gazed around at the destruction. The far side of the valley, was the worst, of the twelve soldiers charging from that side, and their horses, there was no sign. Just an awful lot of red, and an occasional small mound. Commotion brought his attention around to his right. Screams were coming from that direction, now.

As he looked over, he saw a human head go flying over the boulder that blocked his view of the battle This was not good. “Demon, well, I’ll take care of that.” Quickly he drew himself a protective pentagram, and warded it with the strongest spells he could manage in such a primitive situation. When he finished, he called out, “Demon, attend! I am the Wizard Gastropé, and I shall be thy master. Ceasest this destruction at once, I command thee.” With that he sent out a mild enforcement spell that should make it heed his word.

Something came over a boulder and rolled to a stop at his feet. It was Martel’s head. “Damn, that wasn’t good”, he was probably the only wizard left, and the demon had axed Martel, that meant it was probably a third order demon. “Bitch.” Gastropé cursed. He’d never even seen anything above a second order. A third would stretch his limits. He hoped he was up to the challenge.

“Comest now demon, I command thee!”

“OH DO YOU?” thundered a remarkably bass voice from behind the boulder.

“Yes, shithead, I do!” One had to be tough with these things or they’d walk all over you.

A hoof stepped out from behind the boulder, and then the rest of the demon followed. “Oooh shit.” Gastropé’s eyes grew wide as he took the creature in. Biggest damn thing he’d ever seen. “Did I say shithead?” was all he could say. The demon just grinned wickedly. Gastropé licked his lips.

“Gastropé is it?” asked the demon, in a much softer, but still very deep voice.

“Uh, yeah.” Damn. He was only nineteen, just graduated from his journeymanship two months ago. Why did it have to end so damn soon. He knew he shouldn’t have signed on with that asshole Exador. “Uh, you know, I’m really sorry. I really didn’t mean to be so rude... you know... the exuberance of youth and all... heh, heh,” he laughed sickly. Gastropé did not feel good.

The demon took a step forward. “By the way,” Gastropé smiled, “I am warded, you can’t get through.” The demon took another step forward, its hooves were causing the grass it stepped on to smolder. “I don’t think,” he added as the demon stepped closer still.

“Hey, let’s call it even. My... associates torched your... master’s party, you shredded my associates! Fair is fair, right?” The Nightmare from Hell stepped another step closer. It was within its own arm’s reach. Gastropé felt like throwing up, he was scared. He’d even wet his pants. Damn, he hadn’t even done anything. His fireball had fizzled on a shield. He had all he could do to keep from crying. He really didn’t want to die horribly.

“You know,” Gastropé almost sobbed with desperation, “these wards would be a real pain to try to break. I won’t bother you if you don’t obliterate me.” The demon reached out and grabbed Gastropé by the collar. His pitiful wards went pop. Not even a hesitation on the demon’s part. Gastropé sobbed again.

The demon lifted the wizardling off his feet, and held him up, face to face. Gastropé stared into the demon’s eyes. It was like staring into the very depths of the Abyss itself. He saw himself, agonizing for eternity, imprisoned, tortured every waking second. The demon opened its gaping maw, and ran its tongue along its sharp fangs. Gastropé relieved his bowels in his silk pants. The demon slowly began to bring Gastropé’s head toward its fanged jaws of death. Gastropé broke down. He cried. Tears streaked down his dirty face. He was going to die, and he hadn’t even gotten to live.