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The Unsung

When living creatures die, their souls are forced to fight for survival in order to be judged and enter heaven. Those who fail their judgement are thrown back into that hell for eternity, forced to feel the endless torment of continual combat until they are extinguished. In the deepest layers of hell when only the dregs reside, will our protagonist be able to climb to the top and escape? Heyo, werewolf author here! Hope yall are having an uneventful and safe 2020.

LupinotuumPectinem · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
2 Chs

CH001-Pilot

???? POV

A small grunt sounds out, as a small body picks gets up and dusts itself off. Covered in cuts and bruises, the young child seems to be missing an eye and the left half of his mandible. His legs are thin, with barely any fat on them, and his ribcage is very much visible due to malnourishment. The strangest thing about him, would be the single bone spike coming out of his left shoulder.

He takes a moment to let his eyes focus, his tongue lolling out the hole in his face. Making sure nobody else is nearby, he starts walking in a random direction, his slow steps cautious as he makes sure he isn't heard. He kept walking, occasionally finding a corpse nearby as he kept himself hidden. He didn't stop to eat, because eating would only lead to another injury like his jaw. As he walked he became aware of more and more corpses piling up on the area, until he finally met the culprit behind it all.

A tall creature, covered in a robe, with a pair of large, black, feathered wings and a vicious looking sword loomed at the top of a corpse pile. The boy, unable to speak only stares at the creature, knowing that he would die. The creature walked towards the boy, its wings unfurling in an intimidating manner. Raising its sword, the tip pointed at the boy, the creature moved to skewer him.

The boy closed his eyes, awaiting the pain that was to come, but it never did. When the boy opened his eyes again, the creature still stood there, but this time, its sword was sheathed. It look into the eyes of the boy. "Follow," was all it said before beginning to walk away.

The boy stood there for a moment, gawking, before tearing an arm off one of the corpses and following behind his new found 'ally'. He ripped into the raw flash as he followed, making a mess due to his injured face, but he was glad nonetheless, because he was safe and was eating for the first time in a few days.

"Disgusting, eat later." The 'ally' says, its tone chastising and contemptuous. As they walk further and further, the boy begins to notice that the number of corpses decreased steadily. The boy began to see flowers and small trees begin to spring up as they continued farther, their beauty captivating him and making him slow down ever so slightly.

"Faster, doorway ahead," is the only warning the boy got before he realized they would soo be walking through a doorway. While the door was quite simple, being made of lacquered ebon oak and light gray steel, the house itself stood in contrast with intricate carvings in white and purple marble, with gold inlays over menacing gargoyles and statues of chimeras. Walking through the door, the boy tread carefully, so as to not dirty the beautiful red floor that had been polished to shine.

"Aaahhhh," the boy groaned, wonder struck by the beauty found in the depths of hell. His eye enraptured by the cleanliness. He eventually sees a small group of people standing about the entrance, all of them demons of various shapes and sizes. One bears a massive iron chain, pinning it to the side of the garden where it groans.

"Mind not him, went mad." are the only words that the boy hears. Upon reaching the doorway, the boy notices that most of the demons standing by the door look like children. Some had black feathered wings, others had scaly hands ending in claws, and they all held some level of reverence towards this strange winged demon who helped him.

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Shephard POV

This boy, strange, doesn't fight. Has no heart. No matter, will fix him. Sew in a new heart, sculpt violence and anger, remake flesh. Newest devil to be. Will make him strong. Make him angry. Make him care for us. Our Lamb, he be. Our donkey in tiger skin, he become. Until he dies, we feed him. When he dies replace him. If he lives, remember him. If he succeed, celebrate him. Until death do me part, sacrifice i shall.

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???? POV

The boy bolts awake, confused as to where he is. As he pants, tongue flopping out the side of his face, the memories slowly return to him. He looks about, cursing both his luck and misfortune. He should have just remained a corpse eater, a half faced imp. As he woke, he noticed how he was now clean, despite passing out when they had given him proper food for the first time in years.

Now a hollow and malnourished shell, he searched inside himself, trying to find who he was..... what was his name? He couldn't remember, he hadn't had the time to maintain the memory. The only worry was to survive and eat, make sure the 'angels' on high didn't purge him for their amusement. He resented them, hated their existence, wanted to rip their wings off and see how well they lived in this land. But that was secondary, especially since 'that thing', Satan it was called, devoured things in the bottom of that pit, angels, demons, living and corpses were nothing but food for it.

As he cursed his luck, the door opened, revealing a small girl. She had long black feathers on the arms, and a single wing grew out of her back, the stub where her other wing might have been visible under her clothes. The boy grimaces, knowing how painful a missing limb is. He reaches out his hand, calling the girl closer.

The girl shies away, and runs off, the door hanging open as the boys curiosity has been piqued. He lifts his creaky body off the bed, gritting his teeth because of how stiff his joints got. He staggers out of the room, noticing all the children in the area hiding from him as though he's the plague. He screeches, causing all the children to scream in panic, and that 'saviour' appears before him once more. The boy stares intently, almost waiting for a prompt.

"Don't scare children, follow for food." And just like that the winged figure starts walking off, the imp boy barely keeping up.

Hello, author here, I hope you enjoy this attempt at writing a more raw story...... hopefully my lack of emotions doesn't hinder it too much.....

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