Ruin- The Prequel

It was late at night in the vast forest of the Forbidden Realm; the once bountiful plain had now become a barren wasteland filled with creatures of the night. Suddenly the eerie silence was broken by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. A man sprinted through the freezing mist of the marsh at an unnatural pace. He moved at such rapid speeds that his afterimage left a green hue in the surrounding air. His face was marked with a determined sense of urgency, as he leaped over a creek flowing with water red as blood. The deafening silence of the forest provided no solace to the runner as he scanned his surroundings to see if he was still being trailed. After confirming that the dark presence was no longer in pursuit, he relaxed a little but just couldn’t swing the pensive feeling of unease. As the man turned around, he thought to himself, “Alright, I have to get out of this godforsaken place as fast as possib….”

The runner’s eyes widened in disbelief as before him was the same creek that he leaped over just moments ago. It dawned that a curse seal had been placed on the forest, making him run in an infinite loop, thereby crushing any chance of escape. His whole body tensed as he felt an evil presence closing in on his location at unimaginable speeds, watching as it decimated all life around it in its wake. A voice emanated from the darkness around him sneering,

“There’s nowhere to run Fury born, your soul will be mine.”

A deathly chill filled the bones of the runner as the darkness in front of him began to convulse. The ice seemed to reach even deeper, triggering a primal fear, almost as if his very life force was being ripped apart. The Runner began to tremble like a child as he prayed, powerless in front of this primordial malevolence. He stepped back in disgust as Ahriman, the Unholy One, High Lord of Perdition, Son of the Great Abyss, began to physically manifest before him. The night parted to reveal the form of a being with long jet-black hair and pale-skinned, body adorned with markings of a language long lost. A nonchalant flick of the wrist brought the man to his knees. The being in a deathly calm tone asked, “Do you fear death?”; its very gaze seemed to crush with such an intensity that the Runner could do nothing but writhe in agony. In a final attempt at resistance, the Fury Born began an incantation, green sparks flying from his eyes and palms. The Dark Deity chuckled “Foolish demigod, your power cannot touch me, now look into my eyes….and suffer”.

The darkness slowly descended on the Fury born for a final time. Screams of agony pierced the night before the eerie silence returned once again.