• The Throne of the Damned
    Darkness engulfs my soul... forever haunting my dreams...
    Dreams of nothingness, or non-existence...
    The black void that is my dream-state forever twirling to infinity..
    Alone i sit in a chair made of obsidian...

    Black rubies seem to enhance the darkness as they twinkle maliciously within the chair like a damned soul torn between life and death...

    A crown of fire perches precariously above my head, burning blue fire that seems to just get absorbed into the darkness, shedding no light on my disheartening prison

    Then an evil cackle roars through the darkened hall of my *cage*..
    A laugh i have heard on high so many times before...
    Made up of all the things i hate, despise and want to forget...
    Yet the spirit of my unconscious hate won't let me forget, ever...
    And then the demons approach...

    Demons of all shapes and sizes, lined up in front of me for endless miles..
    Claws, Pincers, even human hands, twitching and clenching in anticipation...
    A large demon approaches my perch, a flaming whip dangling at his hip like a hellish serpent ready to strike at my heart...
    He unravels the thrice-cursed weapon and lashes it back ready to strike..
    I, afraid of everything that makes up this being and all that follow try to move, try to squirm free...
    Then i see the rubies flash their blackened light freezing me in place like a cursed statue...
    At that moment i realize why they are put there...
    They are the darkness...
    They are my curse, holding me in so that my fear my pain me yet again...
    They are the conduit to my own heart, my own doing unraveling on my own mind..

    A hundred sluggish, fearful heartbeats erupt from my chest before the demon makes his move, snapping the whip down at me...
    I watch as the hellish thing goes to me, as if i were watching my own death, but i wince and feel no pain...
    Nothing at all as the whip touches my clothing and in an instant my clothing is burnt to ashes...
    I am naked to this demonic counsel of my fears... looking into the bedamned smile of my aggressor as he puts the whip away, coiling it at his hip and walks down the black marble steps to the congregation there-in...

    Then the final steps begin of my torment...
    Each agonizing moment of my life is filled with one demon after another, slicing at my flesh, getting a piece of my heart and soul and returning to their own domains...
    One by one the endless line of demons and denizens of the abyssal planes comes and tortures me both physically, mentally and emotionally until at last...

    Bloodied and broken i sit in the Throne of the Damned...
    held fast by magics unknown to me...
    Then the demon returns...
    The one who started my torment, his whip burning bright in his hand...
    He mutters to me in a language, guttural and beguiling to the mind...
    Makes an incantational pass of his hand and his whip flows to coil around me, squeezing me tightly like the vice of a cobra on a jungle rat...
    Its fires scorch my skin and burn through to my core like no other fire of the mortal world..
    Squeezing i experience the final pain... the pain of rejuvenation...
    My eyes clench and tear anew as the whip sends all my broken bones back together in a huge wave of pain and agony...
    its fires sear the bloodied form of my body and its tightening grip clots my arteries as my blood pools on the floor taking with it my energy and my life-force...
    The demon snaps his clawed, mangled fingers and the rubies go dull, releasing me from their hold as i fall to lay in the crimson river that is my own blood...

    Laughing hysterically he turns and mockingly bows to me before coiling the dreaded whip and walking down into the abyss...
    So it is I, the king of fools... the undead prince of the abyss... The Eternally Tortured Soul...