For the TerrorSouls. HappySoulween!
Citizens of Oolacile crowded around the mystical serpent that had appeared before them. He spoke of power to defeat the ever looming threat of Kalameet who had nearly destroyed all order of the city by it's presence alone. The citizens were so overjoyed at the thought of the everlasting dragon being slayed, they failed to ask for more, finer details of what they were to do; or what the consequences would be.
The citizens followed every order on how to awaken the man of great power by the serpent. Once they succeeded, the serpent all but grinned too broadly and quickly retreated to wherever he dwells. In their quest for power, the citizens failed to even notice this sign of something malevolent.
They brought the unconscious man to their best hospital, where they tended to him before he finally stirred. The higher ups of the city crowded around the bed, eager for what power the mysterious man had to offer.
The man of raven hair and auburn eyes slowly pushed himself up, holding his head groggily in his hands; a pendent dangling from his neck. He held it tenderly before stuffing it back into his robes. As he looked up, it seemed that he still really wasn't aware what was going on.
"Ah! He is awake," cheered an Oolacile higher up. He, and the rest of them bowed to the man. "If you require anything sir, please ask."
The man merely blinked. "Where am I?" he asked in a deep, quiet tone.
"You are in Oolacile."
"I'm back in Oolacile?" said the man, slightly panicked.
"Yes. And there is no need to worry. You will not be harmed."
Silence passed until one of the more eager ones came up and asked, "Can you give us power?" she bluntly asked.
"No," he quickly said. "I cannot."
They all stepped back in shock. "Why not?"
The man shook his head. "It is just something that I can't do."
One of them angrily stepped up and grabbed the man by the collar. "We need your power, NOW!"
"You don't want to dabble in dark magic. It can corrupt you, so please, stop asking," the man begged.
In a fit of rage, the leaders ordered a horde of guards to drag the sorrowful man to the dungeon. There, for many days and nights, the man was put through many forms of torturous interrogation. When physical torture didn't work, they brought in their sorceresses and their deceptive magic. Yet, their efforts yielded nothing.
Unfortunately, they saw how highly the man regarded his pendant. That single act that day, set up a chain of events that led to death and demise. Their ultimate downfall.
The torturer knelt down in front of the chained up man; chains attached to his wrists and ankles were bloodied from his constant struggles. The torturer produced the pendant from the man's neck, to which he got a very animated response.
"Take your hand off that!" the man screamed. "You can't touch it!"
The torturer sneered and with a swift flick of the wrist, snapped the vine holding the pendant together and held it in front of the man with a smirk. The man struggled against his chains with a new found strength, screaming and begging for his precious pendant back.
"Please! I beg of you! It's all I have left," he entreated painfully. "I can't lose it!"
"I'll give it back when you give us the means to destroy Kalameet," the torturer said condescendingly.
"I can't! I can't!" the man wailed. "I promised!"
The torturer and all the others in the room looked at each other. Then, the torturer put both of his hands on the pendant. The man's eyes widened in horror as he realized what the torturer was about to do.
That one snap resonated throughout the dungeon, louder than the bells of tolling death.
The man's eyes, wide and horrified, watched the two wooden pieces clatter to the stone floor. His gaze unblinking and filled with hopelessness.
"You widdiful bastards," he whispered. "That...That...That was all I had LEFT!" he ended with a roar. The room exploded in a brilliant show of black and white energy. The surrounding people in the dungeon screamed in agony as their flesh slowly melted away, and sloshed to the dungeon floor. The whole structure above shook violently, pieces of it's walls crashing to the ground. There was a loud rumble and a wide whole was blasted in the dungeon's wall, picking up a cloud of dust and debris. Just after it cleared, a tail could be seen slinking away, into the shadowy chasm.
The citizens above stared in wonder at the tendrils of black and white sprouting from the collapsed structure. They started to cheer, thinking they finally acquired what they wanted.
Oh how wrong they were.
The tendrils shot at them like cobras, piercing each and every one of citizen's faces to squirm their way inside. They all grasped their heads in agonizing pain and horror. They all wailed and screamed to the air, never stopping until they slowly morphed to hysterical laughter.
Inside the dungeon, all was quiet. Deathly quiet.
Then, the quiet clacks of shoes stirred the silence, slowly gaining volume. Entering the dungeon, a beautiful woman with a tiara carefully walked inside, gazing at the walls and floor in worry. She carefully stepped around a mass of flesh, almost turning back at the sight of it. Her foot connected with something and she carefully picked up the two pieces. She stared at them, turning the pieces around in her hands before she closed hands tightly around them. She went to the gaping hole in the wall and peered inside, having the feeling the blackness was peering back at her.
And it really was.
A pair of red dots stared at her, almost into her soul. Most would have run screaming when they felt the weight of the power radiating from what held the red eyes, but the woman didn't retreat. Instead, the eyes did, but not before taking one last longing look and then disappearing into it's chasm.
The woman turned away, her cheeks glistening. She held the pendant tightly to her chest as she exited the crumbling building egged on by the sight of the mass of flesh mixed with chains quivering and writhing.
Lying in front of the chasm, was half of his precious. A clawed hand slowly came forth and wrapped it's talons around it gently and pulled it away into darkness.
This was what I was before the chosen undead ran me through. I could never refer to myself as that human thing I was. I deterred so far from humanity, into this monstrous form. Or perhaps that I was too human? I was glad I was given this one second of clarity from my monstrous instincts to infect and thrive to remember her. Not as a pawn, but as the woman I always treasured.
I am Manus, Father of the Abyss, and I will never go back to being the man I was. I created the abyss when I coveted my precious pendant too much, trying to hold onto my dying love of long ago. I lost everything that day, and I shall never atone for my selfishness. I can only hope my soul can aid the chosen undead in his quest to vanquish what poor Artorias couldn't. And maybe kill that mephitic dragon that started all this.
Sorry that this wasn't really scary. I just ended up making it really sad. This girl isn't the best with scary. And also sorry if this wasn't that good, I did write it in two days.