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

I was bored. What was I doing… I needed to do something. What was it? There was a man. There. In front.


He was saying something. Persephone? Who was that?


"This must be because of the Laws failing. The magic of the underworld thinks that you are a soul of Asphodel."


Asphodel? Soul? I was confused. Those words resonated with me, but the more I tried to remember their meanings, the more persistently they eluded me.


Questions. I had questions. I needed to say them. But what were they?


I felt weird. Funny. I felt tingling. He was touching my forehead.


His voice was strange. It was deep, and shook the very ground we stood on.


I did not respond, and only looked at my hands in utter fascination. They were so… calloused. Why were they calloused?


I shook my head, watching my hair spread out with childish fascination.


He reached out to touch me again, his cold, slender fingers lightly brushing against my forehead.


He reached out again, this time his fingers pressed firmly against my forehead, staying in contact.


I felt a sort of numbness rush through my head, sweeping away the fogginess, and as my sense of self strengthened, so too did the questions I had about myself. Who was the man? Why was he helping me?


"Thank you." I finally decided to say. It was safe, and while I did not know much about the situation I found myself in, but I knew that he was trying to help.


"Do you remember why you are here?" The man, Thanatos, I dimly recalled, asked. His voice was rich, deep, and smooth.


"Hm. Let's test the persistence of this amnesia." He removed his finger from my brow.


The fogginess returned with a vengeance, and with it, my vision blurred, and I began to scream, clutching my head as pain shot through my temples, like icy needles were being stabbed directly into them.


With prenatural speed, he grabbed for my hand with his own, nearly crushing it in the process. The pain stopped, and I calmed down, still breathing heavily.


"This is a problem. Maybe the waters of the Lethe could help."


The ...