H_Indakwa

In a kingdom outside from medieval era, ravaged by a deadly plague, a gifted healer uses his refined skills to treat the afflicted. Tragically, when the royal prince succumbs to the illness despite his best efforts, the healer's wife and daughters are cruelly executed by the furious king's orders. Shattered by betrayal and consumed by grief, the healer curses the kingdom before taking his own life.

As a pall of darkness descends upon the land, strange, sinister events begin to unfold. Unbeknownst to the kingdom, a much greater evil has been unleashed...

Slaves To The Demons

When I sleep, I see them again. Their smiles, their laughter, our happy moments together. And then, the fateful day comes. I try to wake up, to escape from this nightmare, but I can't.

I'm forced to witness the horrors of that day. The screams of my sisters as the flames consume them, the stench of roasting flesh searing my nostrils, the desperate flailing of my mother as she struggles to free me with her teeth.

I can't begin to describe the torment I endure, the pain that tears through my soul with each night's sleep. How long must I suffer like this? Morpheus, the god of dreams, seems to answer: not yet.

And then, I see my father. He comes running, desperate to save me from the flames. I see the terror on his face as he witnesses his daughter's fate.

I open my eyes to find my father's lifeless body in a grave. My heart shatters into a thousand pieces, each one a piercing dagger of grief. I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but scream into the empty void.

If only I could disappear, fade away into nothingness and leave all this pain behind.

But my torment doesn't end there. The dream repeats itself, but this time, it's not a scene of terror—instead, it's a vision of pure joy. My family is gathered around the dinner table, laughing and chatting. Chloe, my elder sister, must have prepared the meal, her favorite cuisine.

I watch from the sidelines, confused. Why am I not seated at the table? I try to speak, but no sound emerges.

I reach out to touch them, to get their attention, but my hand passes through their forms like mist. It's as if I'm invisible, intangible. And still, they do not see me, do not acknowledge me. I can feel the emptiness inside me growing, the hole in my heart deepening. I want to scream, to rage, to demand answers. But nothing comes out.

Finally, a gentle shake brings me back to the land of the living, and I'm more than happy to let someone guide me back from the depths of my nightmares. As I slowly resurface, I'm met with a familiar sight—the auburn-colored hair of Duvessa, the demoness who saved me once before.

She claims she stumbled upon me by accident, but that matters little to me. All I can think about is vengeance, retribution for the pain I've endured.

Even as I stare into the eyes of the demoness, tears threaten to spill from my own. But why do I cry? Is it for the loss of my family, or the utter despair that has consumed me?

And yet, even through the tears, a smile crosses my lips. For I know that with Duvessa's power, I can exact the revenge which I crave for. My heart, once a shriveled husk, now burns with the fire of my hatred. And it feels good.

Chara's monologue