Hell-Chained: A Godless Path to Reincarnation

As soon as Praxis agreed to make the deal with the demon, it began laughing maniacally. It was the laugh of an old, bitter creature who finally got what it had been chasing for a very long time.

As the demon laughed, Praxis thought, "Did I make a mistake?" If he did or if he did not, it all no longer matters. Praxis' human body was in its final moments. There was nothing left for Praxis but to die.

Praxis drew his last breath, and the laughter faded away. Prince Praxis E. Aarexi III of the Aarexian Empire died. He was killed by a group of unknown assassins hired by certain members of the royal family. He lived under their shadow and ultimately was killed by killers who referred to themselves as shadows.

It was neither a poetic end nor a justifiable end. It was just the effect caused by the decisions and the greed of certain people. Even though Praxis Aarexi was dead, no one had yet realized the true extent of the consequences his murder would have. Because of his dying breath, Praxis unleashed a creature into the Empire who only sought death and archaic terror.

As soon as Praxis died, the world around them became quiet. The wind stopped blowing, and all sounds of the forest disappeared. The only thing that could be heard was the beating of the hearts of the 13 assassins who would soon find themselves against something they had no hope of overcoming.

"What is happening?" said one of the assassins.

"He just died, I won the wager," said another.

"No, forget the wager. Don't you sense that? There is something here, I can feel it."

"Yeah, I can sense something is off. Should we retreat to..."

Before the assassin could finish speaking, the pool of blood surrounding Praxis began darkening. Praxis was dead, but out of every orifice in his body, a dark, viscous sustenance poured out in incredible amounts.

"What type of magic is this?" one of the assassins said.

"We should retreat."

"Not until we confirm the job is done. All of you be on guard."

The black substance continued to pour out of Praxis until his whole body had been submerged. It didn't flow like water would, but instead it pooled on top of itself, growing in size. As the substance convulsed and shifted within itself, a humanoid figure began taking shape within it. The substance began bubbling and evaporating away.

The figure, still covered by the substance, sat curled up on top of it in a fetal position. The assassins were unsure of the potential danger they could be facing. They remained on the defensive, waiting to see what the figure was going to do.

The longer they waited, the more unsure they became. They were trained killer prepared to handle any situation who had never lost their resolve, but something was different here. Their hearts beat faster, and a sense of overwhelming dread came upon them. 

After a moment, the figure fell forward but quickly caught itself using its arms. It implanted its arm on top of the ground and started to push itself up. It slowly rose, and it was now standing on its own two feet.

He looked up at the sky, opened his arms up wide in a V-shape, and it began to lift off the ground. The substance dripped and viciously flowed off the creatures, revealing a human face. The substance dripped off completely, leaving behind the figure of a human with scars, both old and new, throughout its body.

In just a few moments, a formless oozing substance had transformed into a person. But it was no longer a person who inhabited the body. It had all the same features of the person who once owned the body. The same face, the same mouth, the same hair, and even the same skin. All its features were of a human, but just by looking at its eyes, all the assassins were certain that the being in front of them was no human.

Praxis was dead, and in the place where he once stood, something unnatural had taken over.

It dropped back down to the ground and began looking at its arms. It began caressing itself throughout its naked body. It felt its new arms, new chest, its new hair, its new skin, and especially its new face. It enjoyed the sensation of touching skin with its new skin.

"I've finally succeeded. I've attained a human form once more," it said.

One of the assassins spoke, "May I ask who it is that we find ourselves in the presence of?"

"I believe it is common courtesy in the human culture to introduce one's self before asking another to do the same. Unless I am mistaken. It has been quite some time since I was in the same realm as humans," it smiled.

"No, you are not mistaken. My name is Master Fang of the White Shade. We are a hired assassin group."

"It is my pleasure to be in your presence, Master Fang. You seem to be a wise man. My name is Velrik, the demon of chains. Tartarus' former Archduke of Torture, and now tell me what business do you have with this boy?"

Fang was unsure of what to say. He did not want to say anything that could offend or alter the demon's mood. Fang had been an assassin for over thirty years, but never had he encountered a demon. From the first moment he laid eyes on the creature, he could tell its malice. It could kill him in an instant, just as he'd done to so many others in his lifetime.

"We don't desire anything from you. Neither do we wish to waste any more of your time. If you would permit us to leave, then we will take our exit."

"If you must, then you may. I will not hold you here."

The assassins bowed a farewell and, one by one, quickly jumped into the forest. Fang continued to bow as he watched his younger associates each disappear.

As Fang was about to make his leave, Velrik spoke, "Oh yes, it remembers what you did. Every arrow, knife, and dagger that you plunged into this body. It still remembers them all. It has these scars to you see before you. The scars you inflicted on it. It hates these scars. A reminder of the pain this vessel endured throughout its life. Is that not horrifying?"

Fang froze in fear, "You must understand, we were only…"

"Please stop talking. I do not care for excuses. You are but a mindless tool. I understand that much. However, I do want to fabricate an imaginative story with you. Today, Fang of the White Shade failed to kill Prince Praxis because of some unexplainable divine intervention. And there never was a demon by the name of Velrik. Else," he said, pointing into the forest.

Fang turned around to witness a horror new to even the oldest of assassins. Various body parts of the other 12 assassins were hanging from tree branches and adorning them like some sort of grotesque decoration. The once green tree tops were now a deep, dark red.

"Now go," said the demon.

Fang did not think or question anything the demon said. He did not look back or even try to look at the demon. Fang ran away from there as fast as he could.

Velrik watched him run away, and though he did not smile, the torturer was satisfied with his work. He turned towards the path that was before him and began walking towards the Imperial Palace. He made a deal with the human Praxis, and when a pact is made between two creatures, it must be kept.

Velrik was going to be the one to burn the Empire down.