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

Ever since he woke up, Solskin had not said a word. He just sat in silence. I could only hope that he was alright. Solskin would not respond to anything I said or react to anything I did. I was starting to get worried. Shaking away my anxiety, I went to start my evening prayers. I kneeled beside the bed and clutched my pocket watch my father gave to me. Solskin was unresponsive, I went to open the door. Outside was a woman dressed in servant's clothing.


"Hi there, I was told to draw a hot bath for this room."


"Really?" She leaned back to look around the hall. "No, this is the room I was told. Why don't I just co-" Her face turned pale.


She slowly looked down. The tip of a blade protruded out of the center of her chest. I leapt back in shock. She gasped for air, her wide eyes locked with mine, before collapsing to the ground. Dead.


Behind her now stood a black figure. He calmly wiped the blood off his blade before sheathing it. His eyes were black with flecks of yellow and a murderous tint. It was Xavier.


"Why in Hades did you do that?" I reached for my scythe.


They dragged me out of my cell, rotting corpse and all. I tried to struggle, but it was no use. My body wouldn't budge. I swore some of my fingers fell off in the process.


"Let go of me, you imbeciles!" I kicked and screamed all the way until a figure stood before me.


"Are you ready, Mordred?" It was Ash, the crown tattoo on the side of his neck in full display.


"Ash, you backstabbing cunt! You treasonous whore! You puppy-kicking bastard! You… you..." Ash merely raised an eyebrow. I sneered at him.


"How are you? I am great. You can thank me later for reviving you."


"Screw you." I spat in his face, my face flushed with rage.


Ash calmly wiped away the spit and led the procession further down the hall into a large room. It was the lab.


The entire room was dark. Red light pulsated from the runes covering the walls. The air was heavy with an unnatural dread. More masked figures stood around the room in a ring. Their faces were covered with featureless white masks. They chanted in a language I couldn't understand. There was a rumble in the room. A tremor shook the room. There was a low growl filled with rage. The center of the room flickered, light bending towards it. A black sphere flickered randomly, tearing through the fabric of space.


I was slowly dragged under the black sphere. I felt my soul tug towards it, sucking me towards the land of oblivion. It wasn't that it was a scary sight. It just felt like the depths of my soul was about to tear apart. I knew that what was coming would not end well. The only thing I could think about was that sneaking anticipation. As Ash drew closer, I could see his skin darkening. His eyes were yellow. Around his joints, bone began to poke out in spikes and spread, forming a seamless armor. His footsteps became heavy, cracking the wooden floorboards beneath him.


The Ritual