Author_of_Fate

I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. 

I died.

Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods?

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The Forsaken Hero

A shiver coursed down my tail as I echoed the remnant, and I drew closer to him, grateful he'd positioned himself between me and the gate. Even if it was Fyren, there was something ominous about the silhouette in the gate and the ever-rising infernal presence that emanated from it.

All at once, Fyren's aura erupted, sending a ripple through Haven. The surface of the gate ruptured, releasing a flurry of glowing embers. A clawed foot pierced the golden veil, followed by the rest of the eighth-level demon's body.

Fyren reared his head as he came free of the gate that seemed barely suitable to hold him. His thick, spiked tail rasped across the path, leaving thin black lines scorched into the stone. The red cracks that marred his scaled armor glowed like molten lava, and his eyes smoldered like blazing coals.

"That's far enough, demon," Gathrin said, his voice dangerously low.

Lurking Threat