Maroz 7 - The Lord of Death

As the people of the village fled for their lives, a few ran toward him, begging for mercy he supposed, but he paid them no attention. Humans meant nothing to Zeebulis, the Lord of Death. He had one mission, one desire, and that was to destroy anything living. Once a very long time ago, he had the chance to experience life, but God had denied him of that. Now he hated anything that lived. The Lord of light had taken all from him and had given him what he despised and he would do the same to all that the Lord of light cared about.

“The process is slow master!”

Zeebulis showed no signs of hearing Corruption, his first in command. Standing over seven feet tall, Corruption was a mass of muscle that would enforce Death’s will. People ran from his fiery red eyes and yellow fangs as much as his size. After a long silence, Zeebulis smiled and turned to consider Corruption who waited patiently for a reply. “The process will be slow until we find them Corruption. As I consume them I will become stronger here and the pace will pick up.”

“There seem to be so few of them master, and even the one we…” Corruption went silent not wanting to bring up the one who they did find. An old man who had escaped them was the only human they had found who could control the elements and he was very week. Still it was not wise to remind Zeebulis of the one who got away. His fury over that had been like Corruption had never seen before. The minions who had chased the old elemental had been destroyed. Not sent back to the pits of Hell where they had come from, but had been destroyed as if they had never been. “We will find them master and they will be stronger than, well they will be strong. We have barely gotten started after all.”

Zeebulis’s upper lip lifted into a snarl at the thought of the old elemental getting away. “We will find them soon Corruption! We had better!” Without having to tell the black horse to do so, it moved away from Corruption. Zeebulis never had to direct the horse; it always did as its master wanted.

Zeebulis rode through the village while his army of demons was still torturing their victims, his dark cloak flaring out around him as if a wind had kicked up. There was no wind. The rotting cloak was not affected by anything other than his mood and right now he was irritated causing the cloak to flail about. When he had first learned of the old elemental getting away, his cloak looked as if a strong storm had come upon them, its harsh winds throwing it in every different direction. Those who saw him now shied away in fear they might give him reason to become even angrier.

Once out of the village, Zeebulis rode out towards the edge of darkness and stared out at the lighted world. The fools! How could they let him get away? Far out in the distance his eyes fell on a wide stand of trees. It was after those trees when they would find the city of Crook. With so many people crowded together it was only simple logic there would be an elemental or two if not more. That many people alone would build his strength, if only slightly, but the elementals would be like feasting. Crook was not a large city but still it was a city and was bound to have an elemental.

His mood soothed to a point and he rode back through the village with his cloak hanging limp once again. A woman lay screaming with her arms stretched wide, pleading to him for mercy as his demons stripped her of her skin, but he paid her no mind. If anything the sight only soothed him a bit more. He found a sort of solace in the agony of the living. Sometimes he even enjoyed killing them himself rather than letting his pets have them.

The air next to Zeebulis seemed to change, everything beyond it becoming blurry and he sat his horse waiting. After only a moment’s wait, Lozimum stepped through the air to kneel before him. Stepping through the air was how his higher demons would travel though they usually did so in this manner only if it was of utmost importance. Nodding his head to Lozimum he waited for him to speak.

“Master! We have found one.” Lozimum’s voice was harsh and deep and befitting his stature. His thick arms and legs clashed with his thin bony like body and his face looked as if it had been set on fire as a daily occurrence. “It is just a boy child master but he has the power in him. He had been hiding in a cellar.”

Following Lozimum to a small farmhouse there were two more demons holding the boy as he struggled and screamed. A touch of a smile seemed to quirk across Zeebulis’s pasty white lips as he looked at the boy. He would enjoy this immensely; there was something about the innocence of youth that Zeebulis loved to destroy. Though the boy was small, the spark of the ability of an elemental was strong with in him. He would likely have grown into a very strong elemental if he had not been found.

Placing a hand to each side of the child’s head, Zeebulis lifted the boy from the demons grips. His legs kicked around wildly as he grabbed at Zeebulis’s wrists but the Lord of Death ignored it. Then as the boys face came within inches from Zeebulis’s, his arms and legs went limp as fear rippled through his inner being and his bladder let loose. Opening his mouth, Zeebulis began to inhale deeply, breathing in the boy’s soul and his strength in the elements. For a long minute Zeebulis drank in the spirit before finally letting go. The boy’s soulless body collapsed to the ground like a bag of wet sand and took another two breaths before going completely still, as if the body had tried to live on without its soul.

Continue to .... Maroz 8 - The Warning