The sky was covered in clouds. Within them lightning crackled and vibrated contrasting the cloud color to that of the black sky. The clouds, white and pure in the antisepctic rays of the sun now soared at unbelieveable speeds twisted and mutated to grotesque forms of what they once were. Purple, blue, black, lightning crossing across their features like an expression of Pain.

The heavens were in pain. The world was weeping.

Good. Let them cry.

Deartian Forth stood on the dying grass field. His thick black leather boots crushing and breaking the will of the earth around him. The grass seemed to wilt as he stood there his face impassive except for a sneer which could only be described as..purely terrifying. The wind, now picking up in speed, whipped across his pale features and rather than sapping the strength from them as one of expect the man seemed to sneer wider as if drawing strength from the pain the world was giving him. Forth's eyes stood steady staring off into the distance at nothing-and everything at once. Nothing escaped his senses from the crying of wind to the submission of the earth beneath his boots.

Deartian stood tall his hair chin length and floating around his face. He wore a simple black shirt tucked into black leather pants with silver chains around the hips, and this covered with a long black leather duster which reached to the top of his combat boots.The collar was pulled up covering the sides of his face and reaching out past his lips in the front.

This world was different, this body too was different. His mind raced through the possibilities of mayhem and reckless carnage that could await them in the near future. His mind quickly crushed the wild ambitions of It and focused on the task at hand. Information.

What are we?

Who are we?

Are we dead?

Questions filled his thoughts, answers were scarce of course. Forth scoffed at the romance of it all and relaxed his hands which were clinched in anger. A small droplet of blood rolled from his palm and down his index finger hanging at the tip and then falling onto the grass. Immediately the grass wilted and died as a rune appeared on the ground in blood. The blood spontaneously caught fire and burned white hot as a long slender shape manifested at the center of the rune, the razor sharp tip hovering inches above the now bleeding ground. Forth grasped the handle of his blade, the Siyita, and brought it across his chest picking up the fires from the summoning rune and flinging them in front of him in a giant wave of fire. The rune catching the air and exploding in a flash of light.

The fires died in front of him like the grass, wilting and crying in demonic lustful moans.

Deartian smiled holding the long blade in front of him admiring the familiar curve.

This world is untainted by the corruption of my world. He whispered to himself aloud. Good men rule over this land. He laughed cooly, his laughter echoing off of the clouds above and the scorched lands below. This world knows not the suffering I have endured at the hands of 'Good Men'. This world shall suffer.  He concluded his eyes misting and then closing to fight back the waves of sadness and pain that threatened to explode and abduct his body. 

No..Not yet. It is not yet time to exact judgement on this world. Those without sin shall feel the cold touch of death just like those who are ripe for the reaper. No one shall be spared.

No one shall be spared.

The rocks slowly gave way to dirt.

The dirt gave birth to a pathetic excuse for a trail.

The trail bled into a road which lead to an anonymous looking village at the footbhills of dark mountains.

Deartian walked into what could be considered the main drag of the village and stopped in the middle of the dirt trodden road. It was night so the traffic was non-existant. He looked around for vehicles cars and ships. Seeing nothing he examined the collection of shoddy constructed buildings. The flickering of candlelight was all the information Deartian required. Stifling a chuckle at his own stupidity the voices in his mind began whispering to him.

These people are scum. They are nothing compared to the great power that you weild Deartian. Crush them. Defile their village. Draw out the shepard that protects these sheep.

Deartian's eyes narrowed on the largest building in the village which appeared to be a tavern situated next to a chapel.

Typical hypocritical slime. Eradicate their existence my sweet. Let them drown their sorrows in spirits and then try vainly to cleanse their own Spirit in the eyes of their bitch God. You are the right hand of God. Be the burning blade to judge these uncultured vermin of their sins commited, and sins of which to come.

Deartian's tongue slipped from between his cracking lips as a tightening of all his muscles unconciously forced him to walk towards the Tavern.

You bitch. Have your way with me tonight-enjoy your blood soaked orgy and afterwards leave me.  Deartian whispered giving in to the rising lust and heat from his groin. He closed his eyes and opened them his pupils slowly starting to pulsate with dark energy as a wicked smile crept across his features.

Seductress, sometimes i wonder why I hold myself back!  He cackled wildly his pupils widening to the point that his entire eye was black save for a small ring of white.

The voices in his mind giggled, muffling out the pleas of the other. Deartian felt fingers run across his muscular features groping and prying cutting lose all thoughts of the past and the sadness that bound him to this mortal realm. Deartian stepped forward into the doorway and silently  opened it to find the tavern half full of peasant. A cold wind blew past his frame causing the laughter in the room to quickly die.

10 pairs of eyes watched the man enter the taver. 10 Pairs of eyes slide across his body to the slender long black blade in his right hand. The blade itself seemed to be translucent and solid at the same tim and pulsed in their frame of vision. 

The bartender spoke first, "hello there stranger, can we help you with anything?"

Deartian's black eyes flashed over to the bartender as a very visible aura of sparking blackness enveloped his features causing them to blur and become vivid at the same time.

No scum. There is nothing you can do now. The voice in his mind said along with the regular man's voice, reverberating and warping together  so that it sounded like a chorus of hellish tortured souls calling out for blood.

The bartender's face drained of blood as he backed up against the wall but Deartian had no pity for the man. His arm shot out from his body parallel to that of the floor as the crucified picture of his wife burned into his mind's eye.

Die

 A wave energy unseeable by the regulars at the tavern erupted from his fingers. The bartender was lifted off of the ground as the same blur enveloped his body. The bartender's skin melted away from his face and his eyes rolled wildly in their sockets. A bloodcurdling scream finally came from his throat as the man stretched in mid air spread eagle and his skin and muscles dripped like water from his bones  puddling on the floor. Forth close his hand and the man's body bend backwards his spine snapping like a twig. 

The bartender's body droppedto the floor with a sickly slap as Deartian looked to the rest of the patrons.

Who is going to save you tonight?

The patrons broke from their spell and started screaming in a panic trying to escape the crazed man in front of them, but it was already too late. The blood sacrifice had been made and their fates were sealed. Deartian slammed his blade into the wooden floor and pressed his hands in front of him with the fingers spread. Once again the air seemed to hum with energy as a perceptiple clear wave rolled across in all directions. Where people once were running they stood like stone only their eyes and tongue allowed to move. The screams only increased the pleasure circulating through the man's body an erection already forming from the Seductress' bloodorgy. Deartian pulled his hands apart and the men women and children in front of him seemed to shred apart as if caught in a tornado of razor blades. The children suffered the worst their frail bodies disenegrating into a red mist.

Seconds pass and nothing moves in the small town except for Deartian. 

Minutes pass and every building in the town is on fire, burning slowly and sending plumes of smoke deep into the night sky.

 Forth stands once again at the foot of the main drag admiring his work. 

This should bring them out. He said softly his eyes resting on the one living person he left in town. A woman naked and hanging by her hands. her hands were bound together with the threaded entrails of her family. her mouth was enchanted by the Seductress to bleed the blood of everyone slain in the village. The woman tried to cry but only blood came from her eyes mixing with the torrents of bright crimson spewing from her mouth and traveling down her breasts. The woman was booby trapped. Deep in her womb was an unstable ball of thought energy that would explode sending her shreds miles away from the initial explosion. Forth enjoyed impregnating her with his own demon seed.

So did the seductress.

Deartian turned around the flames outlining his bloodsoaked figure and his form slowly shimmered and disappeared into the night air.

 Come and find me heroes.