The legend of the Demonic monk

Freedom

It was dark and smelled musty of wet mud and other less pleasant things. The only source of light were the few torches hanging on the wall opposite his cell. Their light was smuggled through the metal bars that formed a wall and the entrance to his cell, because it couldn't really be considered a door. From time to time the screaming of the unfortunate people locked up in there were echoing along the hallway, reverberating from wall to wall until they reached his ears. Not that his situation was any better than the others.

He was hanging on a cross, with barely his toes touching the ground. His back was hurting, his chest was hurting, his legs were hurting and his arms were starting to get numb due to the blood circulation being blocked by the ropes keeping him upright on the cross. He was feeling his lungs start to heave. Less and less oxygen was coming in while he exhaled more. He knew that he was on borrowed time. His ears were starting to ring and the sound was turning fuzzy.

At this point in time footsteps started to approach the cell he was in. He struggled to raise his head. The disheveled dirty blonde hair was long, reaching his shoulders and now it flowed down his face, covering his eyes from the impact of the sudden light from multiple torches shoved in his face. The swollen face was still smudged in dried blood. He was barely able to crack open a single eye due to how badly he was beaten when he was dragged in here. Even though every single part of his body was aching, he was unable to stop himself from grinding his teeth as he stood back straight as he stared at the person standing in front of him at the moment. He snorted deep and let the phlegm fly, hoping to hit him in the face. But, unfortunately the person in question was quick and dodged, the phlegm hitting the ground behind him.

That move cost him, as the guards jumped him and started hitting him. When the person called them back, he was hanging once again limp. One of the ropes broke letting his arm fall towards the ground, the only thing keeping him up being the cross. He was hanging on a side. He thought at the moment he must have been making a poor figure. He cackled as he heaved for air and started laughing self-deprecating at his own expense.

His main tormentor watched his every move, every twitch and seemed to enjoy his suffering and humiliation. Finally he stooped down in front of him and raised his head by grabbing his chin and yanked it up. His free hand that was still hanging limp down by his side until this moment made a movement and it was as fast as a snake as it grabbed his throat and started to squeeze trying to finish it before the guards could react. But he failed this time too.

The person struggled in his grasp, letting his go as he grabbed his hand that was squeezing the life out of him with his left while his clenched right fist buried in his solar plexus, making it impossible for him to keep breathing as the meager air in his lungs came out under the pressure. He started to cough and choke but he was still squeezing his throat. It was worth it for him to die as long as he dragged this bastard along with him on the road to hell. He was struck repeatedly everywhere as by now, the guards took action once again. He grinned showing his bloody teeth while watching as his enemy's face was turning purple due to the lack of oxygen. His ears were ringing and his eye was starting to get blurry as it became bloodshot. He gritted his teeth and squeezed with every drop of remaining strength he had left. A crack was heard and the guards finally managed to get him free from his hand. He grinned as he saw the body fall limp on the ground as he ignored the pain of stabs and cuts. It was worth it, was the last thing going through his head as he lost consciousness. He felt like he was floating, but at the same time, he was feeling like he was falling somewhere deep into a dark abyss. But he was satisfied now. No matter what happened, he avenged himself. He was going to be free. Or at least, so he thought.

In the darkness he was floating in voices were starting to be heard. At first, they were distant and unintelligible. But as time passed, they grew closer and became more distinct.

Especially one of the voices sounded angry to the extreme as it screamed in his ears.

"I don't care! Drag him back from the gates of hell! He killed my son! How can I let him go this easy? I want him to get through hell while he is still alive! I want him to be unable to find peace, only suffering and pain! I want him to wish himself to be able to die, but be unable to get the luxury of death! I know you priests are able to get that done through your curses! Don't even try to deny it. I know how your church operates. Don't forget who I am what the deal between me and your church is! So get it done! Otherwise I think the church will be able to send some better ones after I am done with you!"

A short while there was silence, then some strange music started to surround him, reverberating all around him. Black shadows appeared, surrounding him. Their faces were covered by the hoods of their robes. They opened their arms as their eyes were starting to glow red under the hoods. They started to move in the rhythm of the strange music as they circled around him opposite clockwise.

Chains started to appear, apparently from the opening of their sleeves. Each chain appeared to be covered in spikes and at the end, each of them had a hook. They started to whip them around in the air, making them whistle hypnotic, adding to the weirdest music he ever heard.

He tried to move, to get out of the way, but he was stuck, unable to move. Then the chains flew toward him. They whipped him as they constricted around his being. The pain was unbelievable, it was nothing like he ever experienced before. He tried to struggle and break away from the shackles he felt squeeze him tighter, but they started to squeeze him tighter, the spikes burying inside his flesh. He gritted his teeth, trying to endure the pain, but groans of pain escaped his lips. The longer he endured the pain, the more the music grew in intensity and the chains bound him tighter.

Until when the music achieved apotheosis and the hooks buried in his flesh. He finally was unable to endure the pain and screamed his lungs out, the abyss reverberating with his howls. His voice was starting to crack as the darkness was starting to boil around him and started rushing towards him finally burying inside his body through his mouth, nose, ears and eyes.

His original blue eyes started to enlarge until his pupils covered the eyeballs in the entirety, with no signs of white left. His voice also started to change, becoming gruff. He stopped struggling and his voice cut abruptly. The music stopped as his eyes started to close while his mouth hung open. His agitated breathing started to calm down. His mouth started to close, but a smile raised the corner of his lips. More of a sneer...