-In Kaelen's Mind-
Kaelen was looking at a middle-aged human getting beaten, from a god's eye perspective.
The man, slumped against a wall, was taking the blows from some goons. He was clearly outmatched, blood all over his face and clothes, but his mind never surrendered to the beatings; he always tried to get up even when he should have stayed down.
One of the assailants, a fat man whose face was filled with a cold fury, who looked like the boss, leaned in close, beginning to speak.
"It's done, you've lost everything," the fat man spoke with malice, his voice sounded like a demon. "Stop fighting what's inevitable. When someone offers you an out, take it, but you don't know when to quit, do you?"
The man looked up, his gaze full of defiance. His lips barely moved as he forced out his last words.
"GO FUCK YOURSELF, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!"
... and those words were the last thing he said before getting shot, but he never gave in, even dead, and no light was left in them, his eyes still seemed to have a burning passion even dead."
The attackers faded back into the dark corners of the mental scene, but his vision lingered on the body. Kaelen's focus was drawn to the human's eyes.
They were vacant, devoid of the light of living consciousness, no light left in them, yet, paradoxically, they held a fierce light. It was a paradox, full of a burning passion even dead. The eyes were a monument of his unbroken will.
Kaelen felt a tremor ripple through the subjective space of his mind, a profound confrontation with this image of the scene he had read.
'If a human did not give in even in death, why should I?'
The thought settled in his mind. And then, the entire vision cracked. The alleyway, the body, the sense of time and place, all dissolved simultaneously. The transition was not a fall into darkness.
"Well, little kid, you should not give in. I'll help you out a little. Have a good rest, I'll get revenge for you." The voice from the dead man sounded out like an echo in the mindscape, and when Kaelen heard that, he closed his eyes to rest.
"Let's have some fun," The man's voice sounded out, and a pair of red eyes glowed.
- In the outside world -
As Bafomet thrust his arm downward, but before he could kill Kaelen, Stella appeared. "Sorry, dear, but I made a deal, now, I have to..." But before she could finish speaking, a hand strong and firm grabbed hers.
"Didn't I say I don't need you to save me, succubitch?" Kaelen asked. The tone was playful but cold, so different from the quick and blunt way he normally spoke. It sent a shiver down her spine.
Stella turned around, her eyes wide, to see the one who was, moments ago, a battered, broken, and mangled damn near corpse she was saving just to do far worse herself.
Back to normal? No, that was not the right way to say it at all.
The demon known as Kaelen Nightingale, who had been characterised by pale skin, golden snake-like eyes, black shoulder-length hair, a serpentine tail, and two pointed horns coming from his forehead, was transformed.
Now, he had even paler skin, an ashen colour that you could accurately describe as deathly pale. His once golden snake-like eyes had turned into a terrifying, blood red, radiating an intense light.
His shoulder-length black hair had grown dramatically, now cascading down to his lower back like a silk waterfall.
Instead of his former snake tail, he bore a massive set of wings that seemed to be formed from coalesced shadow and blood, a truly horrific and beautiful sight.
And his horns, which had previously pointed forward, were now larger, thicker, and came from the back of his head like a crown.
To complete the chilling new look, his smile was wider, filled with perfectly white teeth that now showcased two prominent, dagger-like canines. If he were not known as a demon, he could easily have been mistaken for a vampire.
"So, are we going to continue the fight now, Bafomet?" he asked, his voice smooth and filled with sadistic pleasure. He maintained that unsettling smile as he materialised, impossibly, right behind the towering figure.
"I'm quite eager, you see. I would absolutely love to test out the new techniques I learned from you during our little session. It would be rude not to."
'What the fuck, how did this happen? He was just holding my hand! He was practically dead!' Stella thought, her mind reeling in disbelief as she stared at the demon she had placed her bet on. The shift was instantaneous and terrifying.
"Hey, you, succubitch," the newly transformed demon said, turning his head slightly toward her, but keeping his focus primarily on the massive demon before them.
"Though you do have rather nice and soft skin, I'll admit that. But can you just go? Your presence isn't needed here anymore. He really tortured little Kael really badly, and I took that quite personally. I simply must get revenge for him."
He spoke about himself, or at least the one who was tortured, in a third person, as if referring to a little kid brother or something.
"What the fuck... you... you... You shouldn't be able to move! Let alone talk, joke, or pull any of this shit! What the fu..." Bafomet screamed, his voice filled with confusion and rage. But as he was mid-scream, Kaelen moved.
He unleashed a punch so hard that Bafomet was sent flying, a massive black shape rocketing across the massive fighting ring and slamming into the far barrier with a sickening crunch.
"So, succubit..." he began, turning his blood-red gaze back to the stunned female demon.
But he was interrupted. "Stella. My name is Stella Agares," she declared, her voice filled with a proud tone. She clearly didn't like the use of the diminutive insult.
"Ah, okay, and Stella Agares, you succubitch," he corrected with a mocking tilt of his head. "I need you to leave. Go now. I will deal with you and your audacity later. To think you have the nerve, the fucking nerve, to even think of putting something in my ass... Bitch, please," he scoffed.
With that dismissal, he picked her up by the arm, hoisting her off the ground. Stella just looked on blankly, her mind frozen in a state of disbelief.
A mere lower-ranking demon had just kept calling her "succubitch," even after being told she was Stella Agares, a Great Duke heiress under the very Queen of Wrath. The insult was.. was just so bad it's too hard to think of the words.
Then, Kaelen threw her, launching her back toward the vip chamber she came from. The sudden motion jolted her, breaking her out of her daze. She used her wings at the last second, stopping herself abruptly just before impact.
"You mother fucker, how dare you!!!" she screamed, her voice a mixture of rage and pride; the insult cut deep. She immediately rushed back into the ring, her wings propelling her like a bolt of lightning.
But she was not the only one recovering. Bafomet, having regained his bearings from the shocking blow, roared in pain and fury, and rushed over too, his massive form shaking the ground.
"Oh, come on now," Kaelen sighed, an even bigger smile spreading across his face, exposing those large canines once more.
"Now I have to deal with two crazy, enraged demons at once? How delightful! Well, this should be truly fun; it's been a long time since I've been in this situation."
He spread his newly grown, magnificent wings wide, the shadow and blood catching the arena light, like an acceptance of their challenge. He was ready to take on both of them, the Great Duke heiress and the goat and rock-goat demon hybrid, at once.
"Let this little game commence! Though I must clarify something before we begin this lovely little bout," he announced, his voice booming with a carefree tone, echoing off the arena walls.
"You're not fighting little Kael anymore. He's currently indisposed. Call me Nightingale."
Bafomet reached him first, a massive fist swinging down with enough force to destroy a big building. Nightingale merely laughed, devoid of any fear.
"Too slow!"
He ducked the blow, the wind ruffling his long black hair. As Bafomet's fist struck the ground, cracking the ancient stone, Nightingale darted backward, his blood-red eyes tracking the massive demon.
"A for effort, but a zero for execution! Remember the footwork little Kael had taught you, fucker?" he taunted, mimicking a stern teacher's tone.
As he punched him in the face, dazing Bafomet and cracking his face. "Now that is how you throw a strong punch, you pile of shit"
Stella, fueled with fury and pride, was upon him next, her feathered wings giving her incredible speed. She lashed out with a whip of pure demonic energy. Nightingale simply sidestepped, the whip snapping harmlessly where his chest had been a second before.
"Ah, the succubitch shows her true colours! How elegant, but predictable!" he cooed, his movements fluid, as if he were dancing around them. "You have such nice skin, a pity to ruin it, but I suppose a fight is a fight."
He retaliated not with a punch, but with a backhand that unleashed a concussive shockwave of dark energy. The slap sent Stella spinning through the air, crashing into he ground, skidding, but she regained her footing.
Bafomet let out a guttural roar, charging again, desperately trying to land a hit. Nightingale's smile never faded, as he vanished in a flicker of shadow.
"Peekaboo!"
He reappeared high above, then dove straight down, his clawed hands aimed like a spear. He stabbed into Bafomet's shoulder, not stopping there, but tearing through the hardened rock skin, getting to the muscle, bone, and sinew like a hot knife through butter. Bafomet bellowed in pain, a sound that was filled with fear.
"Ah, sweet release! That was an excellent cry, wouldn't you say?" Nightingale exclaimed, his teeth stained with the black blood of his foe.
"The thing you will be learning now, fucker, is that your body and everything you pride yourself on means nothing when the opponent is just overwhelmingly stronger than you.
That is why little kael lost, but I'm different, I'm strong, I'll kill you right here, right fucking now!" He yelled in his carefree tone, which was replaced by pure WRATH.
He ripped free, leaping back as Bafomet stumbled, clutching his shredded shoulder. And was about to aim for his chest with his claws.
Stella flew back, her eyes burning with malice. She fired multiple blasts of condensed power. Nightingale did not dodge this time.
He extended a hand and drew the shadow and blood from his own wings, forming a pulsating shield. The blasts hit, forcing him back a few steps, but the shield held.
"Good, good, nice technique, succubitch! Ten points for the improvement in power!" his carefree tone returned as he saw Bafomet getting away. Why, one may think it because some predators love the chase.
He rushed over to Bafomet, kicking him around the ring, playing with him. There was a sickening thud with every strike, each one an act of humiliation towards Bafomet's pride.
"Look at you," he sneered, his voice cutting through the arena's silence. "Struggling, weak, this is what a fucking failure looks like."
Bafomet, with his fucked up arm dangling uselessly, was just trying to stabilise himself, his massive frame shaking with the effort. "Stop this..." he managed to grind out, the sound barely audible.
But Nightingale gave him no chance. "This isn't over until I feel like it's over fucker!" he roared, grabbing a thick section of the rocky hide and, with a savage pull, ripping his rock skin from his body. The sound was horrible, and the scream was even worse, but Nightingale heard his scream, and he just laughed.
Nightingale stared at the exposed, vulnerable flesh beneath. He plunged both hands deep into Bafomet's torso, right where the main organs resided.
Bafomet gasped, a sound of shock and agony, his massive body locking up in a spasm. His eyes, wide with disbelief and pain, stared down at the hands that had torn into him.
Nightingale tilted his head, his blood-red eyes wide with famed innocence. "Did that hurt? Did you think you could stand against me? Foolish, you always were." He slowly twisted his hands inside the torso. "You are just a fucking plaything, you don't matter, none of this does."
He tossed his arms aside in one swift motion, and then he extended his canines, his smile turning predatory. He flashed toward Bafomet, who was still reeling, anchored only by the hands still buried inside him.
"Any last words, bitch?" he whispered, leaning close, savouring the final moments of this wrecked thing's life.
"You... you're no better than..." Bafomet trailed off, unable to complete the accusation.
"Silence! You misunderstand everything!" he hissed, pulling his hands free with a viscous, tearing sound. "And now, for the final act! The hybrid fucker dies!"
"Did you really think you could hurt little Kael and walk away? I am his vengeance, I am your reckoning, I am your DEATH" With his wrathful tone returning full force and with one to stop him.
With a terrible heave, Nightingale pierced bafomet's body and ripped his hands out on opposite sides, tearing Bafomet's body in half with impossible ease. The remains of the massive demon collapsed, lifeless, scattering black blood and viscera across the ring.
Nightingale stood over the corpse, breathing heavily, but his smile never faltered. He was coated in blood, looking like a monster of horror. He turned his gaze to Stella, who had frozen, finally comprehending the creature's sheer power before her.
"And now for the clean-up," he purred, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek with a finger, but only getting more blood on his cheek. "You've been a naughty succubitch, interrupting my fun. I suppose it's time to teach you some manners."
He strode toward her, his shadow-and-blood wings moving wildly. Stella instinctively raised her arms to defend herself, realising too late that she had bet on a wild card that was now intent on her death.
Nightingale raised his clawed hand, gathering blood from the ground, making a blood sword, ready to strike the fatal blow.
"Goodbye, Stella Agares," he said as his red eyes glowed even brighter, finally using her name out of the motacumbe of respect
"STOP!"
A powerful, commanding voice, full of authority and power, echoed through the arena, freezing the violent scene.
With a blast of red energy, she entered the ring. Eleanor Agares, Stella's mother, just looked at the new look of Kaelen with a hint of interest.
Nightingale paused, his sword hovering inches from Stella's terrified face. His blood-red eyes met the cold red gaze of the new arrival. For the first time, the theatrical smile wavered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.
"Ahh, a new player, humm, seems the game's over, succubitch 2. Get out of my sight before I decide to add you to the hit list."
Eleanor Agares did not flinch at the threat; instead, she raised an eyebrow.
"You Nightingale are nothing, your power nothing, you were right, the kael lost because he was weak, Bafomet lost because he was weaker than you, and you will lose because you are weaker than So, goodbye, and if you try this again, I will end you, you little worthless life, like it was nothing."
She said with a soft smile and a polite tone, but the words she spoke were nothing like her tone; the words she spoke were laced with something else. Nightingale's eyes looked at her with something not hate, but definitely not with liking, but then gave in.
The transformation began to reverse with terrifying speed. The deathly pale skin flushed, returning to its former normal pale tone. The gigantic, curved horns shrank and twisted back into the pointed shapes.
The blood-red eyes flickered, but then snapped back to the familiar golden snake-like gaze. The long hair receded rapidly, stopping at shoulder-length.
Finally, the magnificent shadow and blood wings dissolved into mist, replaced by the familiar serpentine tail.
The powerful, arrogant, and playful demon was gone. All that was left was the now-exhausted form of Kaelen Nightingale. He swayed, his strength utterly spent by the transformation and the brutal fight.
"Wha... I..." Kaelen mumbled, his golden eyes wide, confused, and filled with pain. He looked at the mangled corpse of Bafomet, then at his own blood-stained hands, his face full of confusion and slight delight.
He took one staggered step back, then his knees buckled. Kaelen's eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed heavily onto the stone floor, passing out completely.
Eleanor just looked calm as she finally spoke, her voice carrying a soft yet commanding tone across the destroyed ring.
"See to him," she instructed, her gaze lingering briefly on his unconscious form, then looked towards the stands, her eyes glowing an even darker red.
Then, the spectators began to leave with a slight red light in their eyes.
She then called over some lesser demons to pick him up and bring him to an infirmary. The designated demons scurried forward, quickly and silently obeying the order, their movements efficient as they carefully lifted the downed boy.
Stella still looked shocked over the events that had transpired. The sheer intensity of the last few minutes had left her frozen, her thoughts a chaotic whirl of disbelief and terror. Her bet almost died from torture; while she did not plan to do any better, maybe worse, that's not the problem.
Then he got up and changed his form somehow, transforming into something monstrous and powerful. Then he fought both her and Bafamot and won, an impossible feat that defied everything she knew about... well, anything.
She watched as the lesser demons hauled the formidable figure away. A chilling realisation sank in, causing a tremor to run through her. He was about to kill her if it wasn't for her mother.
"Mother... I..." Stella began, her voice hoarse, but she couldn't finish the thought.
Eleanor turned to her daughter, her expression unreadable, but her gaze still held love. "You did not foresee this," she stated, not as a question, but a simple observation. "He was pushed too far. How could you have known?"
Stella could only nod, her eyes wide. "He... he was going to cut me in half," she shuddered. She looked down at the ground, a fresh wave of terror washing over her.
'I'd be dead.' Eleanor walked up beside her and placed her hand on her shoulder, and began to say.
"Get that thought out of your mind, you have a deal to fulfil. He won, so what would he gain? It is the way of demons, or deals are everything for us."