Yeah, this is my first post here, and I thought I'd post something to see what others think of my writing abilities. So feel free to comment on my story. And don't be afraid to correct my grammer. If there's one thing I hate, it's when my grammer sucks.
This is a story that has been floating around in my head for a while. I'll write the introduction to the story, and if people really like this, I may attempt to form an RP around it. So be sure to write down if you're interested in making it an RP.
While this intro is in first person, if it becomes a RP, it'll revert to third. At the moment, the story is being told by a sort of NPC. My character will be introduced in the intro.
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The world is a hellhole. Literally. The world is filled with monsters, and rather than trying to do something about it, it seems all the idiots in high places are going out of their way to try (keyword: try) to control these beasts for their own gain.
....
Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. I guess my age is getting to me. Let me slow down a bit and give a better explanation.
My name is Ishmael. Ishmael Carote. I don't know why some of the more scholarly people laugh when I say that, but then, I never really cared for their type. I'm an old man, 56 years old, so if you don't like the way I tell this story, you can just deal with it and walk away. Go read something else, for all I care. Anyway, back to the story.
Now, when I said the world is a hellhole, I really meant it. Demons (real demons, not just a name) roam the streets freely alongside every single person in the world. It wasn't always that way, though. Alot of the history books say that not too long ago, maybe less than 100 years ago, the people of the earth didn't even believe that demons existed. Hard to think such a thing could ever be possible in these times, I know, but nonetheless, that's what the history books say. Not that there's that many history books left that are more than 60 or 70 years old, but you catch my drift.
What happens next is fuzzy on all accounts, but the general belief is that the people of the world became so greedy, cruel and bloodthirsty, that their hatred manifested itself into, you guessed it, demons. Real demons. Vile, wicked, groutesque beasts, immune to those useless old world weapons (what were they called again? oh yeah) guns, and with strength and magiks strong enough to level whole cities.
All of them appeared at roughly the same time, too, would you believe it? Needless to say, the people of that time era were hosed. Millions, maybe billions died in the following onslaught, cut down by their own cruel intentions. (Would've been very poetic, in my opinion, if it wasn't such a tragedy.) Much of the technology of the world was lost as the blueprints and paper over such things were destroyed.
If there is any ray of hope in this whole story, it's that the people of that time were smart enough and lucky enough to try and discover the lost secrets of that wonderful force we all know as magik. Now today we know of all sorts of demon banishment and destruction magiks, but in those desperate times, the people were too impatient to seek a way to detroy the demons, and rather, used the first spell they found, which happened to be demon imprisonment.
While I may have commented on our ancestors' intelligence previously their unwillingness to read the instructions (which seems to have been common in those times) lead to even more problems for people of the modern day. When our ancestors chose to imprison said demons, it wasn't in a cage or under a mountain or anything like that. It was a prison of human flesh.
When the spell was cast, all those years ago, all the demons in the world at the time vanished. No poof, no turning to dust, just gone! The people of the world were overjoyed! This was a time of celebration! For weeks, the people of the world celebrated, partaking in the pleasures of the mind and flesh. Eating and drinking and smoking and... well... other, more intimate pleasures, if you catch my drift.
Now demons kept appearing, as I assume they will until all the hatred in man's heart has vanished, and the same spell, and other such effective spells were used to remove the threats. The new economy of the world evolved to keep itself alive against the demon threat, creating magikal weapons and such to help defend the people of villages and towns where no mage lived.
However, it was about a year later that the people of the world began to recognize their folly in prematurely choosing their spell. A number of the new children of the world, born in the world's year of celebration, began showing traits uncommon in normal girls and boys. Many children were overly aggressive and mean-spirited to their fellow children. Other's constantly appeared to be frightened and would speak openly when nobody was around to listen.
Fear found it's way back into the hearts of humans of the world some years later, when one of these children, now in his teen years was eating with his parents, when a thief, or a convict, or something of the like broke into the family's house and killed the boy's parents in cold blood. Before the felon could kill the boy, however, the pain, fear, and hatred built up in the boy, and ruptured out, changing the boy's own body to match the feelings that burned in his heart.
The following devastation is of the earliest surviving demon reports of our time, and the story is well known by all, so I will not recite it all. I will only state the final summary, when after four towns were destroyed and the monster finally slain, did the boy's body and mind return to his own, only to die in front of the knight who fought him, and the onlookers that had gathered.
It didn't take too long for the mages of the world to discover why the fell beast had transformed into a boy in his final moments, and soon outrage at the mages, and more importantly, fear of the world's youth swept the world. It is safe to assume that this is what led to the outbreak "demon hunts" and the mindless and logicless killing of a great number of youth in the world. It is fortunate to say, for the sake of the human race (and for myself as well, since I was no more than three years old at the time), that the desire to find and kill all the demons was sedated by parental fear of killing one's own child.
After much study over certain children that were less volitile, and therefore, easier to study, much information was found on these possesions of the mind and body. Many demonic effects were found to remain mostly dormant in children and many children, while possessed, could live their whole lives without showing a trace of demonic influence. However, more powerful demons could influence a child's mind very drastically when it so desired, causing increased aggression, and even speaking to their mediums and causing them to question their own sanity. Luckily, those children who develop a strong mind, or a higher-than-average enjoyment of causing pain and suffering, sometimes find themselves capable of drawing on the power and magiks not-so-willingly provided by their body's guest.
This control over demonic power brings great glee to those desiring power, for they know that a grand portion of those possessed would be willing to use their power for someone else if the price is right, or if they recieve an efficient amount of "aggressive influence." Naturally, many kinder leaders would rather not risk the use of such dangerous forces, but with other countries and nations bearing down with such a threat, how else could they counter but with their own?
This brings us to modern day. It seems that the number of demons imprisoned over the years was grander than anything anyone ever thought possible, because even today one in every hundred children is born with a literal inner demon. It's impossible to test every child of the world for possession, naturally, so there is little more the people can do but hope nothing is wrong with their child and deal with the problem if and when the time comes.
Now, I personally am not demon possessed, so you may be asking, "Why do I need to hear all this from you of all people?" I don't like to leave people hanging, so I'll tell you. It's becasue of my son, Arilam.
He's not really my son, to be truthful. He was born in the village I was raised in. I knew his parents. Good people. Unlike most of the possessed in the world, everyone knew he had a demon in him from the moment he born. How, you ask? On his wrist, at birth, was a band of cold, shining black metal. This may not seem like much, but to the people of our era, this was enough proof to silence the doubts of even the most skeptical. We weren't sure about the band's meaning or purpose, but we knew it was nothing good.
Now, as I said before, Arilam's parents were good people, and they figured if they raised him to be smart and kind, he would be able to control the demon in him, and not be tempted to use its power for cruel intentions. They knew not to shelter him, because that would only cause trouble, and they know not to just let him roam, because that would be worse. So, they just didn't do anything. Well, to better phrase it, they just acted as they wouldv'e if Arilam had been born a normal boy.
As you might have guessed, things didn't go so well. It was when Arilam was three, and while I was away that whatever happened, well, happened. I was returning from a trip to our country's bazaar, and found the city destroyed. No, that's not right. The city itself was fine, but the people, everyone, children and adults, men and women, all dead, all in the same manner: pierced by some sort of blade or claw through the spinal cord at the base of their skulls. Instant, painless death.
It was like it had happened all at once. People lay fallen at tables, with their food still half-eaten in front of them. Sprawled over counters where they had previously been heckling with the owners of stores. Leaning against trees, where they may have been killed in their sleep. And in the middle, of the town, all alone, with that sickly black metal coating his whole arm, was a confused and scared Arilam.
As I said before, I was a friend of Arilam's parents, so he knew me when he caught sight of me. Immediately, the black metal shrank back to it's wristband appearance, and Arilam ran to me, seeking help. At first I recoiled and wanted to run, only thinking of the death the demon had caused. But when I saw his fear, I knew he couldn't have done such a thing willingly, and comforted him.
I don't remember too much of what followed. I suppose I gathered my belongings from my house, as well as some things from Arilam's home, and took what materials I could find and packed them into my wagon. Before leaving that desolate place, I searched for the ramains of Arilam's parents, but found no trace, not a single hair of them. The only thing that seamed out of place was a magical, blood-red seal imprinted on Arilam's wristband. I'm not sure where it came from, and I don't care to find out.
I took Arilam with me and traveled to Kontra, the closest city to our village and capital to our country. I began a new life there, speaking nothing to the citizens of the city where I came from or why I had left. I created an orphanage there, taking in the lost or begotten children of the town. It was easy to create with the money I had taken from my village. (It was either that or leave it for bandits, which I wouldn't stand for)
While I provide a home for any and all children without homes, I go out of my way to seek out lost or abused children who are possessed, because I want to help them. You may wonder why I help these children, when one of them caused the death of my village. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I believe they are like Arilam, and they do these things without knowing they did it, or why.
I never told Arilam where he came from or how the villagers died. He doesn't remember a single thing about that day, and I don't intend to pry. When he was old enough to ask questions, he asked me where his parents had gone to. I told him I didn't know, because I couldn't think of anything else to say. When he asked about his wristband, I had to lie to him and told him it was a good luck charm from his parents, and that the seal would keep him safe. He still doesn't know that he is possessed, and I hope he never does.
It's been years since that day so long ago. Arilam is now 16. He still lives with me and help take care of the other children, but he is now attempting to join the city guard. Says he wants to protect the other children, so that they don't have to use their demons' powers.
The only thing I fear is the danger of the guard. News is not good, and rumor has it war is on the horizon. Our king is a good man, and doesn't force the possessed to use their powers for the sake of the country (which, incedentally, makes the possessed like him enough to join anyway).
I don't like the sound of these rumors. I hope Arilam stays safe, him and all the other children...
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