Infurno

Scars from the past never fade. They always come back in ways you don't want it to. No one is safe from it. Haunted by their past from ten years ago, a group of unlikely people come together, intertwined into the fabric of a twisted fate. They buried those memories behind them, trying to move on in their lives. But, what happens when those memories return? Plagued by secrets, memories, and monsters from the past, can they survive? Can they remain who they are? Can they remain sane? Can they remain comrades? No one is safe when your demons come out to play. There is no happy ending in this tale.

This somewhat dark and edgy story is based on my hectic D&D campaign I played. This a grim dark fantasy story that blends a plot-twisting drama with intense action. I hope that you enjoy this story. Hopefully, this will turn into a trilogy.

Hiding in the Shadows

Thanatos's eyes hardened. The large billowing flames of his torch cooled, coalescing to a long, red rod. Dark purple sparks and flames erupted from the other end, creating a sinister glow. The flames came together to make the shape of a scythe, with the torch as a handle.


"Who are you?" Thanatos demanded with a sense of authority that no mortal could match. His voice sent tremors into the rocks beneath us, rumbling the ground. Charon stood up as well, his ragged robes replaced by a long black cloak and a blood red chestplate. Ghoulish faces shifted in and out of the cloak, restless souls trapped within the fabric. I tensed up, drawing my own scythe.


The figure made a painful groaning noise, and cold black fog oozed off of him, swirling around them like a dark pool, sending shivers down my spine. But oddly, it reminded me of something…


"Mordred?" I called out hesitantly. Something was wrong, though. I could feel an uneasy and unnatural sense of dread. It made my hair stand on end, my heart race. My fist was white from clenching the shaft of my scythe.


"Humans are dumb as ever, I see. My name is Kalakrath, and I… am a demon." The voice was distorted and harsh.


"Demon!" Charon hissed. He pulled out a black knife from thin air and threw it at the self-professed demon. At the same time, Thanatos brought his scythe down, and column of purple flame tore across the ground towards the figure.


The figure melted into the shadows before any attack could hit him, leaving an echoing whisper behind.


I heard faint laugh, almost inaudible. Turning around, I peered into the crimson darkness, letting out a sigh of relief. The demon was gone. Scanning around me, I noticed that the gods had vanished. I was alone.


The same low and resonating whisper surrounded me. I leapt up in panic and turned around in a full circle, scanning the entire area. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I breathed heavily. My heart raced and my blood rushed to my face. "Where are you, demon!" I shouted.


I heard another whisper. It was different, and it was burned into my mind. "Mordred. Are you here?"


The whisper came again, louder and more forceful. "Help! Help me! No. NO. NO!" It was followed by weeping. Loud and painful sobbing. My heart wrenched at the sound.


"Oh God, they're here. I can't stop it! The pain! Help. Solskin. Persephone. Where are you?"


My eyes teared up. Mordred continued to scream and cry for help.


"He is gone." The voice was sharp, harsh, and grating. I felt ill just hearing it. The words rang in my ears. "I am DRACOTH!"


The room spun and the ground rushed up to meet me. I blacked out.


The Demon