Lupus Diabolus

The Long Absent Years

            There was a loud sound of bang, then there was silence.

            The last thing Ifrit remembered was falling from the bridge into the river. He remembered the shocking cold touch of water, but before that moment, he remembered the pain of being literally ripped apart by monsters that were once hellhounds. He remembered the shocked faces of Lilac and Rhynsa. They tried to help him, but in the end, they failed. His only regret was not being able to protect Lilac. As he plunged into the water, he only hoped that Rhynsa continued what he failed.

            He remembered the silence and the darkness before it turned into a hellish landscape of fire and ash. Ifrit could hear the wails and screams of the damned. The hellhound thought that this was hell, a place where killers like him end up. He killed without remorse, and he knew that his soul was already tainted by it. He expected this to happen, just not so early in his journey.

            All that meant nothing for him now, especially after knowing his fate. All he could do was wait for the demons of this realm to take him and torture him for eternity. But even with all that knowledge, Ifrit still refuse to give in. He survived for so long, just to be eaten alive by monsters. He knew his life ended, but the least he could do was survive and be a notable entity in hell instead of becoming part of the wails and screams of the damned all around him.

            He had to survive, even if it meant becoming a demon.

            As he saw what looked like demons surrounding him, he went to an aggressive stance with his claws and teeth bared in a show of intimidation. He soon realized that the demons not only stay at their places, but also had no intention to fight Ifrit, perplexing him.

            Ifrit remembered the moment vividly, as if he wasn’t dreaming. Then, he felt heat. Hellhounds were invulnerable to fire, but he knew hellfire would be far too hot for him to handle. However, the heat was warm instead of painful. He turned around, thinking that there was a demon that caused the demons around him to stay, possibly the king that would bring judgement down on him.

            The hellhound could only turn and face whatever it was behind him. Instead of a menacing demon, however, there was a figure. The figure was held in place by chains, arms stretched to the side and legs pulled down, forming a T or a cross. He looked more like a fellow damned soul of hell than a demon. The only thing that made Ifrit uneasy was the demon’s appearance.

            He looked identical to Ifrit except for his more prominent ram-like horns and cloven hooves of a ram. He looked like a hybrid of a ram and a hellhound. His eyes were bright crimson with plus-shaped pupils, different from Ifrit’s eyes. He was naked except for an iron muzzle harness that forced his maws shut in the most painful way possible. Even then, it only prevented biting, not speech.

            The goat-hellhound glared at him, exerting such pressure that made Ifrit unable to move. Then, he said something to him in Hordo.

            “(Embrace your nature. This is who you really are).”

            Those words echoed in Ifrit’s ears as he lost consciousness. The hellish realm turned dark, as if the fire was extinguished. Then, there was a loud explosion that shook Ifrit awake. The first thing he noticed was the dark room he was in, then he looked at his body. He was naked and chained to a cold, stone slab. The chains were not that strong and was rusting, so he easily pulled his hands free from the shackles before doing the same with his legs. To his surprise, his legs were mismatched. His right was his own canine back paws, but his left was a cloven hoof like a goat’s. He also noticed that, like the goat-hellhound in that vision, he was muzzled, but not with iron, only leather belts that he easily took off with his claws.

            After he was free, he quickly assessed his surroundings and soon found that he was in a windowless room with a heavy wood on one side being the only source of light into the room. As he peered outside, he felt weak and his stomach grumbled. He was famished, and would only settle for a big meal full of juicy meat to satiate his hunger.

            He returned to attention as another explosion shook his cell’s door and he heard people coming. Realizing that he had the element of surprise, he hastily returned to the stone bed and pretended to be unconscious. Just as he heard people opening the door to his prison and alarmed by the broken shackles, he quickly opened his eyes and grabbed the throat of one of the hellhounds and slammed one of them to the wall.

            “(Oh, s**t!)” said another. “(He’s awake!)”

            “(Damn, right, I am).”

            Ifrit did not hesitate to attack the other hellhound, who was ready to shoot him, with part of the chain he pulled. It wasn’t enough to kill the hellhound, but it was enough to hurt him and distract him for Ifrit to snap his neck. The hellhound he momentarily freed from his grasp also tried to attack him, but Ifrit did not act hastily. Instead, he grabbed this hellhound. He noted this hellhound’s unbuttoned shirt and long, baggy pants with suspenders that was around his size. Ifrit smiled and said, “(Nice clothes. Thanks).”

            With that, he knocked the hellhound out and proceeded to strip him down to his underwear before he peered out of his cell. There was general chaos as hellhounds were seen running around trying to coordinate their efforts against an unknown assailant or assailants. Ifrit used this chance to slip out and stay out of sight until he could find a way to escape.

            He looked around to find any indication of an exit as the place’s order quickly deteriorated due to the attackers. But, feeling hungry and weak, he decided that he needed to eat something before he could do anything. So, his first priority was to find the kitchen, even though he knew it would be unwise. Fortunately for him, the kitchen and the dining hall was easy to find beyond the prison cells, but it was also full of hellhounds coordinating their efforts against the attacker. He slipped away from the dining hall and directly into the kitchen.

            Several important things he noted were some chained humans and hellhounds who seemed to be slaves since they were made to wear suggestive clothes that left nothing out of imagination. However, one was different as he was naked and tied to a pole, apparently for a rather risqué entertainment, possibly even b*****e-related due to the straps he wore, the muzzle keeping her mouth shut, and the blindfold he wore. He was also a Death’s Jackal, a specific type of hellhound that looked like a black-furred jackal with golden accent and tall ears. He looked so thin and lanky, as if he wasn’t being fed enough. Compared to the female slaves, this male one had the worst abuse.

            The other slaves were scared of Ifrit when he got into the kitchen. He quickly tried to earn their trust by breaking their chains and leashes and broke the muzzles off the hellhounds and Lycans, half-expecting them to suddenly lunge at him and ambush him. To his relief, they did not, and they even thank him.

            “(Where is the exit?)” asked Ifrit. He also asked the human slaves and said, “Where is the exit?”

            “I know where it is,” said a human who seemed to recover much quicker than the others. “I saw the entrance when we were taken here.”

            “Right.” He then pointed at the tied Jackal. “What’s his story?”

            “Punching bag,” said the woman. “I felt sorry for him.”

            “Still alive?”

            “I hope.”

            “Can you fight? I know this sounds insensitive, but I cannot protect all of you.”

            “We can,” said one, who was a Lycan. “As do the hellhounds.”

            “Okay. I need some food. I have not eaten for so long I felt weak.”

            One of them pointed at the uncut turkey on the nearby table, one that Ifrit promptly ate until it was stripped clean of anything meat.

            “You’re…more than just hungry, aren’t you?” said the hellhound slave.

            “Yeah. But I am ready.”

            He turned to the Jackal tied to the pole and broke him off his shackles and removed his muzzle and blindfold.

            “(Can you hear me?)” asked Ifrit, in which the Jackal answered with a nod.

            Just as he freed the Jackal, one hellhound found him and said, “(That’s the one! Don’t let that royal escape!)”

            Ifrit had no time to gently put the Jackal down. He grabbed a nearby chair and smacked the first hellhound who attacked him and quickly jammed the remains of the chair’s leg into his stomach. However, to Ifrit’s surprise, the improvised weapon burst into flame that quickly engulfed the hellhound. He screamed in pain as the fire burned him alive. This surprised everyone in the room, especially the hellhounds. Hellhounds could not be hurt by fire, but the burning hellhound suggested otherwise.

            Ifrit shrugged it off and took it as a distraction to attack the rest of the attackers, with the female slaves helping him. Soon, the hellhounds were either dead or critically injured, with the burning hellhound causing more damage as the wooden stage caught on fire. Ifrit managed to jump away with the Jackal.

            While the female slaves wore rags to cover their revealing outfit and ran out with Ifrit protecting them from behind, he noticed several things that surprised him. The Jackal did not seem to notice Ifrit who was beside him. Then, when he said ‘thank you’, the Jackal’s eyes did not look at Ifrit. Instead, the seemed to be searching around. That’s when Ifrit drew a conclusion as to the Jackal’s situation.

            “(Holy s**t),” he said with a realization. “(You’re blind. What did they do to you?)”

            “(Been like this since birth),” said the Jackal. “(Can I ask you a favor?)”

            “(Say it).”

            “(Can you be my guide? I know you have better things to do, but I’m not exactly capable of a journey on myself).”

            “(Hey, I can’t just leave a blind hound to his own devices, right?)” said Ifrit. “(Come on, let’s get you out of here).”

            Then more hellhounds came to the kitchen, this time armed with swords and ready to fight them.

            “(Oh, come on! Can’t you leave us alone already?!)” said Ifrit, annoyed.

            “(We already got ourselves bargaining chips and you just happen to be the most troublesome royal),” said one of the hellhounds. “(You should’ve stayed asleep, Schelkz).”

            “(So, no killing royals on sight now?)”

            “(You’re the exception, bastard. You massacred many of us like a demon you are. I don’t know what sick joke you’re pulling, but Royals like you should just stay dead!)”

            “(Well, you should’ve just killed me when you have a chance, because I won’t hesitate…).”

            Without warning, the Jackal ran towards the hellhounds and, with great martial arts expertise, punched one hellhound three times in the chest, causing him to be thrown to the cabinet. One of them, surprised, lunged towards the Jackal, who simply dodged without even turning and grabbed his arm, breaking it and punching the hellhound’s snout without even flinching. He just stood there as more hellhounds, panicking and in anger due to his actions, attacked him, only for him to easily counter and dodge the attacks before retaliating by breaking the bones of his attackers and even snapped the neck of another.

            “(Those idiots!)” exclaimed the hellhound Ifrit talked with. “(I told them he’s a f*****g royal and they still attack him in rage! I should’ve…).”

            Ifrit quickly grabbed the distracted hellhound, twist him around, and kicked the hellhound’s back with his knee, cracking his spine. Just as Ifrit was going to snap his neck, the Jackal did something that surprised even Ifrit. He jammed his hand into the hellhound’s chest and pulled out his heart in such a gruesome manner that it made Ifrit almost look away in disgust. The Jackal did not hesitate to pull the black heart out as the hellhound screamed in agony and dying in Ifrit’s grasp. The Jackal unceremoniously throw the heart away.

            “(Isn’t that a bit too excessive?)” asked Ifrit.

            “(What’s done is done),” said the Jackal.

            Due to the fight, they lost track of the female slaves, so Ifrit hoped they were fine as he lifted the Jackal’s lithe body to find the exit themselves. As he found a door that could led outside, the door opened on Ifrit’s face and almost smacked his snout if he did not lean back just at the right time. He quickly became surprised by the person who almost opened the door on him.

            The person wasn’t exactly a human, nor was he a hellhound or a Lycan. He was of a different Underworld race called Fuzandres, who happened to resemble a bat. This Fuzandre, however, was someone Ifrit personally knew.

            “(Rhynsa)?” said Ifrit, surprised by the brown-furred Fuzandre’s face. He did not wear a hood, just a cloak that covered his body and wings. The cloak’s design was different from what Ifrit previously knew.

            Rhynsa was also surprised by Ifrit’s surprise appearance, but quickly shook his head and pulled his hand out of the door while Ifrit kept his grip on the naked Jackal. The night was freezing cold, with Ifrit also noticing white mounds that he had never seen before. They were cold on touch, like ice, but he had no time to even consider what they were as they ran deeper and deeper into the forest.

            After running for a while, they managed to be far enough from whatever place they were in for anyone to bother chasing them. As Ifrit was catching his breath, the Jackal was shivering beside him, prompting Rhynsa to take off his cloak and put it over his freezing, naked body.

            “(Oh, Rhynsa, I’m so glad I met you),” said Ifrit after catching his breath. “(I don’t know what the hell happened to me, but a friendly face is always welcome).”

            “(Oh, we’re friends, now?)” said Rhynsa with his snarky comment. “(Maybe you should start thinking about saying sorry to me after you cheat death, which is fairly impossible given your wound back then).”

            “(Aren’t you glad to see me?)”

            “(It depends, Schelkz. You being in that prison is like a very surprising twist. I was told to extract the Jackal, but I’ll content with a bonus).” Then Rhynsa paused as he looked at Ifrit. Then, he smiled and hugged the hellhound while saying, “(Glad to have you back, Schelkz).”

            Ifrit then remembered something Rhynsa said about ‘back then’. Considering the cold weather, he must’ve been out of it for a while. So, he asked Rhynsa about the year.

            The answer surprised him.

            “(It’s winter of 1914),” said Rhynsa. “(A lot has changed since your apparent death. I work independently. Always better that way. The others help the defense efforts).”

            “(1914…that’s three years),” said Ifrit, surprised.

            Ifrit realized that things did change, and for the worst. The slaves in the prison were the indication of that, and whatever happened between those times, one thing was clear.

            The Hellish Incursion had started.