Kev, lost in the rush of violent flow, charged with a roar and swung his axe in a cleaving arc. Avradren bent backward, spine folding unnaturally as the blade sliced past. In the same breath he slipped behind Kev, slamming both palms against his ears.
A sickening crack echoed, Kev's skull rang like a bell, blood spurting from his ears as white-hot pain exploded through his head.
"Mikhora," Avradren hissed.
Black energy flared, wrapping Kev's skull in a crown of jagged thorns. The barbs burned red-hot, searing into flesh, feeding on his agony. Kev screamed as the axe slipped from his grip, crashing to the floor. He dropped to his knees, hands clawing at his head, but the harder he suffered, the deeper the thorns burrowed.
Avradren exhaled, chest rising and falling, his grin feral. "I'll give you this... you pushed me further than most. Even drew blood. As expected of the second strongest in your grade. But don't forget…" His demon eye gleamed, voice sharp with disdain. "…you're still a punk beneath me. Your petty tricks can't compare to real power."
He raised a hand. "This… is how you create an effect."
"Zahrith."
The thorn-crown writhed, unraveling into a black serpent that coiled around Kev's body, its coils crushing, its scales sprouting countless spines. The barbs grew like wriggling worms, digging into his flesh, burrowing deep as though they meant to eat him alive from the inside. Kev's body convulsed under the suffocating pressure, his scream tore through the shadow realm, raw and desperate. Avradren's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he leaned closer, voice low but dripping with amusement.
"No one will hear you here. No one will know. Unless, of course, another demon just happens to stumble into the shadow realm at this exact moment… unlikely, wouldn't you say?" He chuckled darkly. "Which means your torment will be a long one. Tonight, you'll learn why we are demons of suffering."
Kev howled again, the serpent's thorns writhing deeper into his flesh. His body jerked violently as blood and sweat mingled down his face.
Avradren, unfazed, exhaled in mock boredom. With a snap of his fingers, he slipped out of the shadow realm. Moments later, he strolled back in, casually holding a can of beer from Kev's own fridge. He cracked it open with a hiss, foam spilling over his fingers, then sat cross-legged on the floor as if nothing was amiss.
Tilting the can back, he drank deeply, eyes never leaving Kev's writhing body. "Mm," he said with satisfaction, as though critiquing a fine brew. "Not bad. Almost makes this feel like a sports match. Now..." he pointed the can at Kev like a commentator's mic. "let's see if you can keep up the energy into the next round."
The torture stretched on through the night, Kev screaming, writhing, clawing at the serpent as it fed on his agony. Avradren simply sat and watched, savoring every moment.
By the time dawn threatened, Kev collapsed, barely breathing, his body slack from the relentless torment. Avradren rose, wiping the condensation of the empty can on Kev's shirt before tossing it aside. With a lazy wave, he dismissed the serpent, the coils evaporating into shadow.
"Lucky for you," Avradren said, his voice suddenly cold, "you're a demon. I'm not ready for the smoke I'd get from the authorities for killing a fellow. Especially from the president. He already despises me as it is." He crouched down, his gaze boring into Kev's broken eyes.
"This was a warning, punk." He leaned close, spitting the words into Kev's face. "A lesson. No matter how violent you get, no matter how much rage you swing around… when you stand before a stronger demon, you lose. Every time. Don't forget your place."
With that, Avradren stood, turned his back, and dismissed the shadow realm in a ripple of darkness... leaving Kev shattered, trembling, and humiliated in his own room.
Kev groaned, every breath ragged, blood bubbling at the corners of his lips. His body refused to mend the way it should; the wounds were too deep. He tried to push himself upright, but collapsed, his limbs shaking under his own weight. Gritting his teeth, he clawed at the floor, dragging himself inch by inch toward the table where his phone had fallen.
Each movement left a smeared trail of red across the tile. His chest heaved, ribs grinding, his regeneration sluggish and pitiful against the damage Avradren had inflicted. Finally, his trembling hand closed over the phone.
He fumbled it to life, the screen blurring in his bloody vision, and pressed the call. When Ammy's voice clicked on, Kev gasped into the speaker, his voice hoarse, wet with blood.
"A… Ammy… come… to my apartment… now…"
The words broke, choked out between shallow breaths, as fresh blood pooled from his mouth and dripped onto the phone. His strength gave out the moment the words left him, his head sagging against the cold floor.