AN Update: This story is based on The Sin of Pride from Darkandus, and I Didn't Ask For This from Mizuki_Stone.
"So, what's your story?" Asked the statuesque bespectacled woman at my side, towering over me a head over. It was less an issue of me being short, since I'm firmly average, and more like she's really tall.
"Oh, I dunno, I was just drinking my beer when someone who don't
leave me alone walked up to me and made me pay for her drinks."
"Actually kid", said the bartender, a tall, bald black man wearing a black trench coat and dark shades more at home being a bouncer than serving drinks, "she's a regular of this place."
I banged my head on the table, careful not to let my beer spill. "Just my luck. Out of the many bars of this city I have to go just to the one where my personal stalker frequents."
"From where
I'm standing you're the stalker since whenever I go you're there too." Said the woman at my side before sipping at her wine. "One would think you're my fan."
"I go where there are jobs", I replied the woman before taking another sip of my drink, "what were someone like
you slumming around with the plebs like me? I'm fairly sure you had much more important things to do with your time than bother me at all those places."
"A woman got to have her secrets, don't you think?" She said with a coy smile, "so what's your story?"
Once more I banged my head on the table, this time more forcefully.
"Cheer up kid", said the eldritch abomination in the shape of a bartender, "it's not always sweetheart here becomes interested in someone."
Being her focus of interest is a
really bad thing. I know her type, she eats men and spits back broken and useless husks, the fucking Witch. The utterly terrifying damn Witch.
The complete amateurs look the part even if they manage to grab some smidgen of power, while the professionals have an aura of power around them that's almost physically visible, sometimes it even is. Then there are the complete monsters like the woman at my side, who manages to hide her aura of power very easily passing herself as nothing special on the grand scheme of things, except she walks around confidently where demons fear to thread. Granted at some point it becomes a game of chicken since 'look tough and pretend you own the place' is a very common tactic to those in my line of work, which explain the occasional sudden bout of suicidal stupidity in both parts of the equation.
We are both aware who would win in a fight between us, but apparently she likes to play with her food.
"If I tell my story will you leave me alone?" She opened her mouth to reply but I cut her off, "at least until I can finish my beer?"
She closed her mouth with a click, pausing for a moment before nodding once. It might have been my imagination but I caught traces of her being disappointed. Well tough luck, she looks the type that after a nice dinner and a movie would want to push me back into bed and fuck me over with a strap on and expect me to like it.
"My story starts like any other these days, with the poor schmuck just goofing around..."
~~O~~
I had finished the electronic survey requested by the university and was ready to grab a beer and watch some videos when the wall of the dorm room exploded in front of me. I could hear screams and footsteps outside the corridor but I was focused on the sight before me.
It was a monster straight out of hell, with a thick, grotesque body with short stubs for legs and massive arms that reached the ground that were so large they looked closer to support pillars than arms. It's head was a small stub at the top of it's body, more like a collection of spikes and teeth with a pair of eyes.
Eyes that were staring straight to me.
Before shock could properly wear off, the deceptively fast creature grabbed my head with it's gigantic hands, crushing my skull. My screams were muffled by his palm, the pressure growing by the instant until I felt more than heard a crush, and darkness overcame me.
Only for me to wake up almost immediately later, still on the creature's grip and still feeling the agony of my crushed skull, which it simply didn't
stop. I felt the creature moving, and once more I felt more than saw crossing some kind of threshold.
During all this the creature unceremoniously dragged me across wherever the hell I was, and some time later I was tossed around like a sack of potatoes. I was too weak to do anything but moan in agony, the pain in my head still too strong and sharp, keeping me awake.
"
Ah, you brought some fresh meat." Said a deep, rumbling voice near me.
"Hmm... unfortunately this one's also a failure, nothing good for except grunt work. Oh well, there's a quota to fill for them so at least it's one less on the checklist. Next time try to use that big body of yours to bring more souls though, can't have you going and coming with only one soul on your hands."
I didn't heard the reply before I saw the new monster staring straight into me.
This one looked more like a classical devil, tall with horns on his head, goat feet and wings on his back. Staring at his face you could even dare to say he looked handsome, if his whole feature wasn't tainted by a deep sneer on his face.
"
Apprentice!" He yelled and a smaller creature that resembled the devil came scurrying, this one giving the impression of being a teenager. "
Prepare this soul for processing."
"
Yes mastah!" Came the reply with a strange lisp on his voice.
"
Remember to work the throat and remove the vocal cords first, you're not experienced enough to work while listening to the screams of the damned, as pleasurable as the sound is. It's high time you learned how to do things right."
"
Yes mastah..." This time he sounded far less cheerful about the whole thing, still he approached my prone form and the last thing I saw was his foot raising before violently slamming down.
~~O~~
I had been killed and my soul brought to hell, before going through the Processing in which both metaphysically and mentally I would be broken down into a mindless husk of a demon. In order to do that my soul was brutalized and violated in ways that even human minds have trouble comprehending, and the process was done almost dispassionately by my tormentors, almost as if it was some kind of low paying menial job.
Which I found out later that it was exactly that.
I had been striped of all identifying marks from before my arrival to hell, aside from my height. I looked skeletal, with skin stretching on my bones. I had no mouth, no nose,
no dick and from watching my fellow damned souls, our eyes were nothing but holes in our skull with an eternal shadow cast on it, a single, small dot of red light replacing the actual eye.
At some point we found ourselves wrapped in rags, forming some kind of hood that resembled the typical grim reaper look, and for some strange reason we could all summon to our hands a large scythe.
Most of my fellow damned souls were mindless husks, doing whatever was demanded from them without apparently acknowledging anything, yet sometimes they would descend into senseless violence without rhyme or reason, trying to butcher each other. This state of affairs was amusing to our new masters, and they allowed this to happen as often as possible, only sometimes breaking the fight before someone died.
I was also like that for a long time, more catatonic than violent, until someone bumped into me and I tried to apologize to him, realizing that I couldn't speak. I panicked for a moment, looking around, before I realized what I had become and the memories of my torment coming back to me. I was oddly peaceful after that revelation, more calculating and trying to figure out if there were others like me.
Like in any such cases, I wasn't a super special snowflake and there were others like me even in my own group. We were massively outnumbered by the mindless husks, but apparently a 'society' of 'awakened' ghost demons was formed. Individually we were weak but in groups we were
slightly less weak. Sadly we had to 'hide' our sentience from our masters, least they kill us as a defective product, such cases happening many times in the past. Technically, they knew some would be sentient but they reasoned that unless we became a threat they didn't need to cull our numbers all the time.
In this society I learned the basics, communicating through sign language and pantomime, and how to be a proper demon and survive to see another day. We had no illusions that we were anything but disposable minions, but there were means to rise above our station.
Also as it happened, our society had factions. The two largest faction were the 'demon' faction that wanted to become stronger and ascend past our wretched existence, and the 'rebel' faction which wanted to strike back at our masters and usurp power.
Yes, they were basically the same thing, the only difference being that one wanted to ascend to a higher status 'peacefully' while the other wanted to be more direct about it. Either way the risk of actual backstabbing was rather low as a general rule because the greater demons would purge
all sentient demon ghosts instead just the 'enemy' faction, and in order to be actually rewarded for selling out their former comrades the society size had to be much larger than what currently was. We were currently in the 'inter purging' phase of our society, and those periods often lasted centuries if what I gathered was right.
As for myself I was in the 'escape' faction, even if we had literally no way to escape on our own, but we weren't nearly as mocked as the informal 'slave' faction who was still too broken to want anything more for themselves and just cowered in fear and did what our masters demanded, their sentience at this point being yet another curse for their existence than a ray of hope.
Still there was a way for us to escape. Every so often, some dumb greater demon would want to invade the human realm, much like it happened when I was killed and converted into a demon ghost, and there we had the opportunity to escape. Most of the time it was a fool's hope, except we heard rumors of the greater demons planning an invasion of apocalyptic proportions on the human realm.
There would be a lot of backstabbing involved in this invasion, not to count whatever resistance we might face considering we're simple canon fodder and easily replaceable by design. The number of ghost demons like me was massive however, so I actually had a realistic chance of pulling this off.
As the days and months tickled by, all the ghost demons were rounded off into large groups. Eventually I was also chosen for this incursion and made to stand around until the time came.
After who knows how long, I saw the portal towards the human realm open in front of my group, and we all stepped forwards. Some would simply die, others would destroy and pillage as commanded by our masters and a few would even take pleasure in the act.
For me, it was an opportunity for freedom. I would either escape this, or die trying.