A Cold Embrace.
'Cold... emotionless... vile... demonic. Why must they continuously call me that? I did this all with a purpose... a cause. A vengeance which required retribution. Thus, why am I the villain? This is what I was supposed to do!' A burst of confused, manic laughter echoes out in the mist. A lone figure stands, glancing around at the emptiness surrounding him, the last light had flickered out just moments prior.
"Why... why do I feel so empty?" The lone figure asked himself confused. Ignoring the voices of those deceased which still festered in his ears, his reply was an eery silence from the mist surrounding him. "Gods?" He asked himself, expecting a reply but only the screams and wind called back. "I... they always told me..." The lone figure began in a shaky voice. "I'd never be alone... bu-but..." The figure clenches his hands into fists, the sound of metal clanking against metal heard to only his ears. "I-I've triumphed world! You... you can never hold me back again!" He screamed, a bright light shining from his right chain, which brought the figure a sense of warmth and in contrast, an all-consuming void, concealing any light which made him feel somewhat helpless, covered the left side of his body. Only the right side of his body visible, the half of his face visible, twisted, would've etched itself into the minds of any living being... however, not a single soul survived his carnage.
His cheeks seemed to be apart of the mist, purplish-black in colour, flowed out as if, it, were the source of the mist. His eye was almost pure white with for a pupil, his mark, the shape of a bird's talon, which was red in colour. With unnaturally sharp teeth clenched, a purplish-black, practically invisible line outlined them. Despite the twisted face, his attire spoke of class. A unique suit one would expect from a vampire was worn, albeit without the cape. On his right arm, was the glowing shackle was on his wrist, the chains attached to it swung around in the air with it entering some sort of miniature vortex. On his hand, a white glove, surprisingly still stainless after all his killing. An intricate marking engraved which had a frosting cool aura emitting from it was on the top of the glove.
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"So... you've finally accomplished our goal. Vengeance has been extracted from their corpses, now all that remains is us." A deep, demonic voice stated.
"Yeah. We've finished it, however, why do I feel so... well, empty inside, Hunger?" The figure asked again, expecting a response from the darkness.
Slowly, illuminated by the shackle's glow, the figure's shadow elongated. Gaining form, his shadow now far longer is possible for his size. Outstretching a jet-black, crimson-tipped claw, holes covering it spontaneously without a pattern. Gently with elegance, one would not expect from such a creature's claw, it placed all of its fingers against the ground. The lone figure saw how the creature which dwelled inside of his shadow, Hunger, was escaping its domain to enter the world he had newly succumbed into darkness.
With a gentle push and unexpected silence from the action, Hunger now towered over the figure. He was incapable of seeing Hunger's face. He was aware of his inability and thus simply waited. The comforting light, much-like a loving mother's embrace from the figure's chains dulled. As they dulled, Hunger's body seemed to experience some sort of metamorphosis.
"So, what now?" The figure asked aloud. "What do we do now?" He repeated once more, this time without any conviction, as he muttered softly this one. He sighs.
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'Hunger? What do we do know?' Nemesis thought for one final time before a sudden headache hit him like a truck. He groaned in pain, grasping his head as he felt the chains which were in mid-air, wrap around his arms, like a snake coiling around a log.
Stumbling about, Nemesis struggled to even walk straight. A voice echoed in his ears, one different to the other souls which haunted him, one which he remembered vividly... one he cared for.
"I-I'm sorry." He struggled to let out. "Why are you letting old ghosts still affect you? She's meaningless. Remember what occurred, and remember who you are! We are Nemesis, made from anger with the sole purpose of revenge. Eventually, we'd have to deal with her. Better sooner before those repulsive humane things you gave me, feelings, are to do with it. Now just let her go. Let it all go." A voice within his brain bluntly responded.
Feeling his legs become jello, he lost all capability to walk, falling face forth to the ground, however, before he hit the ground he felt something wrap around his stomach. Lone, boney things which he knew to be Hunger's claws. Although it would feel awkward to most, Nemesis felt a sense of comfort being held by Hunger's cold embrace. He was always there for him, like the voice in his head... They were all family, whether he liked to admit it or not. Letting out a pain-filled moan, Nemesis shut his eyes as he heard one last taunt.
"You and I are the same... we're b-oth... mon... sters..."