08-26-2016, 10:14 AM
Chapter 0: The End of a Diva
“I’m sick of your damn games!” growled out the black haired male, carapace-covered hands furling and unfurling in apparent irritation. He growled, his expression showing great anger towards those that he was ‘performing’ for. His tired, bloodshot eyes stared upwards, towards the beasts and the formless creatures above him.
It felt as if gravity had tripled, and he nearly fell over, from the pressure, and pure exhaustion. He’d not slept for several days, and even then he barely got two hours each time. He was worked to the bone, unable to rest at all. For days and days, weeks upon weeks, perhaps even months, how long had he been here? He lost track, ever since he was forced into this mess.
But it was for the best of the others. They threatened his family, his ‘Love’. Had he not stepped up, they would have taken -something- from him, and he wouldn’t let some dastardly gods take such a thing. He wouldn’t let them have any of it, such triumph over him.
Yet, as he knelt, unwillingly, on the ground, his tired eyes glared as much as he could. He’d done many things to entertain them, dancing, story-telling, trying to act natural for the first few days or week or so, but eventually the guardians of elements and other things grew bored of that. They began to toy with him, summoning creatures that would try to devour him.
He was a fighter, of course. One that would be able to handle such things, at least for some time. He was allowed to eat and drink, enough for him to not die of such bodily problems, but he was malnourished, greatly weakened by now.
His suit was in tatters, the only memento he had having been taken from him long ago. He was so tired, worked so hard. Though he wanted to continue, to show that he wouldn’t give into their demands, he was so damn exhausted.
“Are you…?” said a strangely feminine voice, giggling afterwards. The shaitan snarled from where he knelt, knowing that voice. It was the voice of none other than the god of luck. “Well, we can’t have that. How about a game?” Ah, the goddess of luck always loved games. “If you win… You can leave~ If I win…You’ll stay.”
Rumbles of approval from the others surrounded the tattered shaitan, and he slowly moved to stand up,”Do I have any other fucking choice?” He questioned, frowning and clenching his hands tightly.
“Of course not,”The voice then cackled, as creatures began to appear, fox-like eyes showing, despite the monstrous forms.
The twenty-first ‘Diva’ stared at the creatures, before moving to enter a stance, elegant almost, and prepared for his last dance.
----
“Ah,”A voice called out, watching the blood pool about,”...Send for the next one, it seems this one won’t be entertaining us any longer.”
“I’m sick of your damn games!” growled out the black haired male, carapace-covered hands furling and unfurling in apparent irritation. He growled, his expression showing great anger towards those that he was ‘performing’ for. His tired, bloodshot eyes stared upwards, towards the beasts and the formless creatures above him.
It felt as if gravity had tripled, and he nearly fell over, from the pressure, and pure exhaustion. He’d not slept for several days, and even then he barely got two hours each time. He was worked to the bone, unable to rest at all. For days and days, weeks upon weeks, perhaps even months, how long had he been here? He lost track, ever since he was forced into this mess.
But it was for the best of the others. They threatened his family, his ‘Love’. Had he not stepped up, they would have taken -something- from him, and he wouldn’t let some dastardly gods take such a thing. He wouldn’t let them have any of it, such triumph over him.
Yet, as he knelt, unwillingly, on the ground, his tired eyes glared as much as he could. He’d done many things to entertain them, dancing, story-telling, trying to act natural for the first few days or week or so, but eventually the guardians of elements and other things grew bored of that. They began to toy with him, summoning creatures that would try to devour him.
He was a fighter, of course. One that would be able to handle such things, at least for some time. He was allowed to eat and drink, enough for him to not die of such bodily problems, but he was malnourished, greatly weakened by now.
His suit was in tatters, the only memento he had having been taken from him long ago. He was so tired, worked so hard. Though he wanted to continue, to show that he wouldn’t give into their demands, he was so damn exhausted.
“Are you…?” said a strangely feminine voice, giggling afterwards. The shaitan snarled from where he knelt, knowing that voice. It was the voice of none other than the god of luck. “Well, we can’t have that. How about a game?” Ah, the goddess of luck always loved games. “If you win… You can leave~ If I win…You’ll stay.”
Rumbles of approval from the others surrounded the tattered shaitan, and he slowly moved to stand up,”Do I have any other fucking choice?” He questioned, frowning and clenching his hands tightly.
“Of course not,”The voice then cackled, as creatures began to appear, fox-like eyes showing, despite the monstrous forms.
The twenty-first ‘Diva’ stared at the creatures, before moving to enter a stance, elegant almost, and prepared for his last dance.
----
“Ah,”A voice called out, watching the blood pool about,”...Send for the next one, it seems this one won’t be entertaining us any longer.”
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