Demons of the Past

The minotaur sagged against the wall, head dropped and eyes closed. He was weak, tired, and wanting nothing more then to die right here and now. Seven days, it had been seven days since his village had been slaughtered and the remaining enslaved. He had not seen any of them, not a single horn or hair. In fact, he had seen nothing besides this small, cramped cell where he had been shackled to the wall. No food had been given to him and the only water he had received was the tiny bit he managed to get in to his mouth every day when they housed him off with a giant hose but that was no where near enough. He was nothing but skin and bones now, fur matted and disgusting against his body. His four horns had been blunted with a file to prevent him from goring his guards.

Suddenly, the metallic grinding of his cell door slowly being opened filled his ears, but he refused to look up or show his eyes. He was young, prideful and arrogant. Still only fifteen years old, the male Ungrith’tar was not even in to his own prime of life yet. At present he only stood six feet and three inches tall, his horns only a about a foot and a half long. Well, not a foot and five inches after being filed down. He tensed his entire body, ready for the blast if icy cold water he knew was going to come from the hose which was the only time his cell had ever been opened in the last port night. The blast of icy wetness never struck him, and silence filled the cell, not even the door screeching shut. Slowly, weak with hunger and thirst the Ungrith’tar raised his head and opened his eyes to revel his deep brown eyes streaked through with small golden streaks.

Stand before the male was a tall stranger. Well, tall for a human. All humans where short beside full grown Ungrith’tar. At seven feet and two inches tall the man was taller then Ba'alzamon was right now. He was dressed extravagantly in gleaming black leather armor that covered his entire body. The black protection looked extraordinarily like an exoskeleton upon the man, revealing his extremely muscular body. A huge broadsword hung across his back, and long glistening red hair rolled around his shoulders like a river of fire. His eyes glowed like black coals, gazing upon Ba'alzamon, his arms crossed over his chest. A scrolling tribal style tattoo rolled up the left side of his neck and cheek, wrapping around his eye. The tattoo slowly pulsed with a glowing blue power, like a heart beat against his skin. The man slowly unwrapped his arms from around his chest and barked an order at the Ungrith’tar.

"What is your name beast. Surely you have one. Do not make me asked again. Speak quickly, and you shalt receive food."

Ba'alzamon blinked slowly, trying to process what the man was saying. He roared in agony as suddenly as pain erupted like the lash of a whip across his chest though nothing had touched the him. The person's tattoo glowed brilliantly as the pain intensified, then the tattoo began to diminish back to it's normal state and the pain slowly faded. The red haired man laughed shaking his head. "I told you to speak, beast. Now, do so or more pain shall ensue quite rapidly, and it will be worse then the last." Ba'alzamon simply stared at the man with hatred, and the man's tattoo instantly began glowing again. Pain tore through Ba'alzamon's torso, feeling as if he was being ripped open from the inside out. His entire body twitched and writhed in agony, his bellows of agony echoing through out the cells and down the hallways.

Several minutes later the pain began to stop, and the man's tattoo slowly faded to normal yet again. He stepped closer, smiling sickly at the enjoyment he was getting from the torture and breaking of this mighty, powerful beast. He leaned close, just out of reach of the beast's jaws. "What was that? I didn't quite catch it between your screams." Ba'alzamon panted, trying to catch his breath as he whispered his own name.

"B..Ba'alzamon Noccalul."

The demonic man leaned closer, his warm breath blowing in Ba'alzamon's face smelling of sulphur and death. The Ungrith’tar wrinkled his nose, but could not move to even pull away from the male's horrendous breath. The man whispered softly, nodding his head.

"Oh, that is such an interesting name. Interesting, and strong. Tell me, Ba'alzamon, would you like to live?" The man pulled away, his face twisted in a hideous approximation of a smile that would chill a serial killer's bones to the core. This man, this thing before Ba'alzamon was evil. Pure, undiluted evil to it's very core. The Ungrith’tar could feel it in his very soul, a cold dark chill that spread along his nerves and through out his body that seemed to numb him from the inside out. He felt as if his whole body where going numb and there was nothing that could ever be done about it. Not flame nor heat of any source felt as if it could warm the cold emanating from this male of evil.

The Ungrith’tar contemplated the male's words. He felt as if his very soul was upon a precipice at the moment. His very answer would change the course of his life beyond any controllable outcome he could possibly wish for. On one hand hung his very life, to simply live and prosper though in what manner he did not have a single clue. On the other, there was death. The deep black nothingness that waited to come up and swallow any individual being at any point in time. Finally, there was the deep chill coming from the demonic man that seemed to condemn his very soul. Life felt as it it would damn his soul, while death offered sweet nothingness.

Ba'alzamon mulled this all over in his mind, thinking hard about what the two choices he had at the present. Everybody he knew was more then likely dead or dying somewhere in this festering hole of death and torment. Everybody he had ever known in his life. So what was there left to live for? Freedom? To go to what? People he did not know who would more then likely shun him. Death was such a sweet alternative, but he was finding the darkness hard to grasp upon. He was so young, and frankly he did not WANT to die just yet. He wanted to live for any reason. He gazed upon the demonic male and decided to delve slightly deeper in to this option of life this...thing was offering him.

"What exactly would this 'life' you so willingly offer up entail? I fail to see a point in offering me one when you clearly care so little for it in general. What is it you want from me." This was quite a soliloquy from the Ungrith’tar who was reknown for his silence and short sentences.

The demon stood tall before him, laughing out loud now and shaking his head. This minotaur would be a tough one to break indeed, but that would also mean it would be that much stronger of a fighter. The stronger the will, the stronger the fighter because it gave them something worth fighting for which was life itself. That was something few of these arena combatants had and it made them weaker then those who had it. The male drew his enormous sword from his back and swung it with brutal force towards the minotaur. Ba'alzamon flinched slightly, expecting pain that never came as the broadsword clanged against the wall, and the Ungrith'tar's arms dropped to his sides as the mighty weapon cut through the thick chains holding them in place. The demon replaced the broadsword upon his back and smirked.

"I take that as your acceptance. You new life will involve fighting for me in the arena fights that fill this area. They are a secret thing, kept alive through lies and deceit. It is a wonderful source of enjoyment for thousands of people. There is much blood shed and plenty of death for everybody. You, you shall be my new prized champion. I can tell things like that. My last, well she died in most unfortunate circumstances that didn't even involve fighting. It was such a waste of a great fighter and a beautiful woman. However it seems fate is not with out a sense of irony, as it has brought me to your. I can tell know that you will be vastly superior than she was." The demon laughed again, turning and striding arrogantly from the cell and snapping his fingers at the two guards outside of door.

Ba'alzamon listened as the demon ranted, his eyes narrowed. So he was to be a fighter? Nothing more? He supposed he could live with that. Either he could then prove himself stronger then others, or he would die. It was almost like a normal Ungrith'tar life. Except for the torturing and enslavement. Ba'alzamon watched as the guards came in. They unchained his legs, then attached to chain leads around his wrists and lead him through the corridors after his new master. He looked around him at the other cells. There where many creatures here including gorgons, humans, a few demons and angels, and even a centaur. Then there where several of his own kind, even a couple from his town. The first person he recognized he tried to move towards, but an enormous electrical charge ripped through his right flank and he roared in pain and was tugged along. He glared at the guard who waved his cattle prod laughing. Finally they stopped at a large metal door that was closed. His new "owner" was no where to be seen, but the door slowly rose before him, screeching and grinding as it went to reveal a large dark room that was metal upon every side, even the floor and ceiling. He was prodded inside at the ends of the cattle prods though he was not electrocuted again and the door slammed shut, coating him in darkness and silence except for some random noises outside.

Presently the dark cell began to rumble around the young Ungrith'tar, vibrating and a exceptionally loud roar filled the area seemingly coming from across the way Ba'alzamon had entered. He looked in that direction, but could see nothing what so ever and sighed, dropping his head back down. With in what felt like moments, but could very well have been hours for all he knew, the room began to move. The side with the loud noise was apparently proceeding the rest of the room so Ba'alzamon could only assume he was contained with in some sort of truck of some kind or another. He was being transported. To where, he couldn't only guess. Couldn't possibly be as foul as where he had been. Could it? He decided not to think like that, for that line of thought lead to either hope or a horrific disappointment that he did not wish to face in the long run of things. So he decided to remain resolute that at least he was not chained up in a cell.

He soon became accustomed to the roar of the engine of whatever vehicle he was with in, and the movement of it going forwards and the occasional swaying of side to side as it made turns or high winds seemed to rock it. He occasionally stood, stretching his arms and legs and neck to keep himself limbered up instead of simply sitting and allowing muscles to cramp and stiffen. He simply did not know what was going to be awaiting him upon the other side of that door when it finally opened, and he refused to be as the saying went "caught with his trousers down". Even though he wasn't wearing trouser. In fact he wasn't wearing anything. He would see that that was remedied as soon as he could. He needed to at least exude a modicum of decency as he didn't want to be seen as some sort of beast anymore then he already was. It was hard enough to over come prejudices against one's own race with out proving them correct.

He was unsure of how long he had been with in the dark confines of the vehicle. It could have been minutes, hours, maybe even days. He was until confused upon that but suddenly the vehicle began to slow. At first this meant nothing, as it had slowed before and even come to stops, but nothing had happened and they had started moving shortly again. This time the vehicle slowed much slower then the other times. Then it stopped, and shortly began moving, but in the opposite direction. Ba'alzamon's head jerked upwards instantly, looking around and wondering what was going on. Voices could be heard outside, shouting in some foreign languages he did not understand. Then the vehicle shuddered as if it had hit something slightly and stopped moving all together. Suddenly, as if on cue the door he had entered by screeching as it opened upwards and he blinked. It was dark on the other side of the door, and he couldn't see much except a single figure striding towards him that he quickly recognized as his new 'master'.