He didn’t know how long he had been here, tied up to this post and whipped with a cat o’ nine tails. He could see everything on his naked body, how the hooks tore into his flesh and ripped it out. He could feel the pain, even from this distance, and would scream each time the whip hit him.
But as soon as it hit, it would start to heal, and the demon would sometimes dig into the wound with its own acidic tail, or spit on it and rub more acid into the wound, the very bones sometimes. Metal would scrape against bone as he would be flayed alive on one side, first the skin, then the muscles, one bit at a time. All of it would go down the demon’s maw, a huge tongue slurping up the blood.
And minutes later, he would be healed, and it would start all over again.
The demons sometimes changed, and he knew their names. Herman, demon of destruction, who would blow him up and put him back together with twine and bits of pink ribbon soaked in blood. Cedrin, a black creature that stood in bare feet but had a twenty-foot tail that liked to wrap around him and squeeze him.
He saw it all, because his head was on a pike looking across to his body tied to that post.
Thanks to Kalius, who had severed his head from his body and left him to rot in the Primal Earth’s Independence Port, he was now in two pieces in this place called Hell. The man called Grey Maulkin – and that is what the demons called him nursed a revenge, that if he ever saw Kalius, or MindLord, or any of those damn bitches, he would kill them with his own bare hands.
That made the demons laugh more, as they continued to torture him. Then, it stopped. The demon walked away, dropping the cat o’ nine tails, and there was a bit of calm and peace.
“You swore your soul to me,” a voice said to him, and he moved his eyes to try and see where it was coming from, but it came from everywhere at once. “I am very disappointed.”
“Maulkin!” he cried, invoking the name of his demoness.
“Maulkin? You insult me. I own this place, Grey Maulkin. Try again.”
“Sa…Satan?”
Something moved out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t see it clearly, nor could he move his head to see what it was. “You are not entirely witless,” continued the voice. “I can still use you. If I give you another chance, can you tempt more souls to me?”
“I will, I will!”
“So easily manipulated, you are, petty human.” He felt something grab his hair and lift his head from the pike. His head seemed to float to the body, because he couldn’t see who was grabbing him. The head was placed on the body backwards, then wrenched around with a sickening crack and click, and it settled on the body.
Still, there was no one there.
“I hope you enjoyed Primal Earth, because that’s exactly where you’re going.”
He hoped MindLord took over the world, because he would then take over MindLord and then take over the world himself.
“Remember what I want,” said the voice, as the bonds released him from the post. “Turn the innocent.”
Sure he would, sure. After he killed off a few people that needed to be put here in the first place.