Before I could fully lose my marbles, my sorry hide was already chained to a jagged rock. Two terrifying demons stood before me. One was my old buddy from the kidnapping, and the other, apparently named Grok, was nearly twice his size. Grok's hellish mug scared the living daylights out of me, shrinking my courage to the size of a mustard seed. His massive, muscle-bound torso was studded with spikes, with three human skulls dangling from his chest like a grisly trophy. His head sported huge, ram-like horns curling menacingly.
Meanwhile, the first demon was eyeballing a table full of tools with creepy focus. Somewhere in the distance, I heard my own pathetic whimpers begging for mercy.
"That's getting on my nerves," Grok growled.
"No kidding," the other agreed. "When I hauled him here, he had something stuffed in his mouth. Kept him quiet as a mouse. Shouldn't have pulled it out. The master said humans are clever—bet they shoved something in there to keep him from yapping."
"Really? Should we give it a whirl?"
"Worth a shot. Think this'll work?" The first demon picked up a rock the size of a baseball from the ground.
"Let's see."
I screamed my head off. This was it. This was hell—batshit crazy, merciless, straight-out-of-a-nightmare hell. The demon strolled over, brushing off my desperate flailing like it was nothing, and yanked my jaw down. Pain lit up my skull like a Fourth of July fireworks show. I've heard some folks can cram their fist in their mouth. Yeah, I'm not one of them. A few front teeth hightailed it out of my gums. The rock's sharp edges dug into my gums, and the skin at the corners of my mouth tore like cheap paper. Pain swallowed my every thought. I'd never been through anything this godawful. My lungs kept pumping out blood-curdling screams. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recalled those old gags about people getting a lightbulb stuck in their mouth. Haha. Real knee-slapper.
"Better," the first demon said.
"Not by much," Grok muttered.
"The master likes it. Says it's music to his ears."
"What is music?"
"Dunno. Master spouts a lot of weird nonsense."
"Speaking of, Vyer," Grok said—guess that's the first demon's name—"when's he showing up?"
"He's not. Said he's too swamped, so we're flying solo."
"No way!" Grok sounded shocked.
"He's gearing up for war."
"What war?"
"You're out of the loop, huh? Soon we're hitting the humans and gobbling them up."
"Hell yeah, that's awesome! I had no clue. Master just told me to work on my healing mojo."
"You're clueless. It's gonna be a riot!"
"Yeah… Guess we'd better get cracking. Master'll have our hides if we slack off."
"Love it when he's in a mood…"
And with that, the gates of hell officially swung wide open for me. My personal welcome party was like something out of a fast-food fever dream. It kicked off with my fingers. Vyer snapped them one by one, savoring every second of my misery like a kid with candy. The pain burned through my brain, underscored by some dumb jingle from a burger ad stuck in my head: "I'm lovin' it!" Double the torture. I tried fighting back with my magic, but the demon just cracked a grin.
"Ha, that tickles my funny bone. Got another one?"
Screw you, I'm tapped out. I'd burned through my mana and hung in my chains like a limp dishrag. After they broke my eighth finger, I passed out cold. Thank heavens I'm such a lightweight.
I retreated to the safe haven of my mind, where I had a whacked-out dream about demons and other craziness. But when I snapped back to reality, the crushing horror crashed over me like a tidal wave. Weirdly, I felt no pain. I wiggled my fingers—they were fine. Then I remembered someone jabbering about healing. I looked up. Grok towered over me.
"Done," he said. "Kid's back in one piece."
"He went down like a sack of potatoes," Vyer noted.
"Don't sweat it, he's just a greenhorn. He'll toughen up with time."
"Why not grab a grown-up then?"
"This one's got more mileage. Forty years, maybe. After that, he's no good."
Forty years?! They're gonna torture me, patch me up, and keep the cycle going for forty years? I can't dream up anything worse. I vaguely recalled reading somewhere that pain's not something you get used to. Thanks for the heads-up, science. Real comforting. Time to lose my mind pronto.
"By the way," Vyer said, "why'd we need one with mana? They're a pain in the neck to find."
"My healing skill levels up faster with them. No clue why, that's just what the master said. He needs me to boost my rank quick. We're short on healers."
"Gotcha… Alright, what's next on the list?"
"Burns."
"Burns? What's that?"
"Wounds from fire. Humans are sitting ducks for it. That's why the master ordered not to offend fire mages."
"Like that brand we slapped on him?"
"Yup."
"Sweet, let's get to it…"
Vyer grabbed something from the table that, to my gut-churning horror, looked like a blowtorch. No… Please. Stop! I can't handle this. Forty years? He said forty years. I started bawling my eyes out. I don't want this! Let this be a bad dream. A nightmare. Somebody, anybody, wake me up! System! System! How do I bail out?! Please…
I was losing it. The demon got closer. Just end me. Yeah—that's the ticket. Option number six. That's my escape hatch. With every ounce of panic-fueled strength, I threw my head back to crack my skull against the rock. But I didn't have enough juice. A dull pain throbbed in my head, but I was still awake. Fine. One more try. I reared back again, but Vyer grabbed my noggin with his massive mitts, stopping me cold.
"What's he up to?" he asked.
"Dammit, forgot to lock his head down," Grok said, snatching a big metal clamp from the table. "Here, hold this."
"Nah, not there!" Grok barked. "Don't clamp his neck, he might croak. Forehead's the way to go."
"Man, humans are brittle as glass."
"No joke. All this fuss for a war, and they break like twigs?"
With no effort, Grok hammered the semicircular clamp into the rock, pinning my forehead tight. He's right—humans are fragile as hell. But then, a lightbulb went off in my foggy brain. I was dead sure my magic could kill a person. So why not make that person me? This life wasn't worth the fight anymore…
"Alright, burns it is…"