Walking through the halls, the pools of blood began to reveal entrails, limbs, and various body parts that seemed underdeveloped. Eyes that seemed barely formed, limbs that were more of a lump than it was anything else.
But as I gazed upon all this tragedy, I could not help but feel anything; it was almost like staring at art. A fucked up art, but as my footsteps echoed, everything around me felt like a red painting drawn on a different type of canvas. It was beautiful, filled with insanity I don't think I'll ever understand.
"Zanris would love this shit? It would be her fucking wet dream here."
"Come-Come!" A startling voice of a fiend cried, jarring me from my admiration of the canvas around me.
"Are you my guardian here?" I asked, pivoting my eyes back to Zax two steps away.
The imp smiled and bowed, 'But of course, my Master." He said in an elegant tone as his eyes shimmered a scarlet light.
"We'll see,"
Picking up the pace past the growing limbs that were slowly beginning to become full-on bodies torn to shreds, I found myself before a large ancient stone gate oozing a hellish aura that made my soul shutter at its presence.
"Is this a seal?" I said, studying the infernal runes that made my heart tremble.
Approaching, I frown, running my fingers over the infernal stript that read, " When a broken man of a pure heart falls into sin, the—"
"Greyson and Ren!'
Shaking, I felt the hairs all over me stand on end, and I tried to read through the text that a strange force had withered away.
Pushing the towering gate over twenty meters in length, filled with skulls of various demons and devils I'd recognized and some I didn't, the Devil Gate was pushed open without issue.
"Zax, what happened to all the Hell Fiends? Bael hadn't written about them."
"Sealed, my Lord."
"Sealed where?"
Zax had turned silent, but the implication was clear. Grey, the man of a pure heart that broke, had shattered one of the seals in hell.
"His wife," I muttered, " His wife must be involved. Fucking Hell."
Dashing through the gateway, I bolted as sweat began to slip from my brow.
"GREY!!!" Eroma's hoarse voice bellowed as I arrived before a large opening with a dome-shaped ceiling depicting fiends praying on angels, and demons alike, ravaging through the cosmos; they bore their fangs at everything and everyone, even the hand that had created them.
I snapped my head back to Greyson standing over a mountain of children and infants torn to shreds, with blood painting his lips in a smile. I could not believe I was looking at the same poised man who trained me in the art of schemes.
"You've come!" Grey howled as his laughter resounded like a laughing cry that made my heart bleed. Watching the black tears flowing from his eyes and the bright smile on his lips, I could not help but think of myself back then in Midgard.
"What the hell is going on, uncle," I asked, boggled by whatever could have done this.
"Failure!" He shouted, "Failure, because of you."
Taken back, I saw Zax approach and bow his head towards Greyson, " I pay respects to the first Disciple of the Fallen, Moloch."
"What the Hell!?"
"I'd forgotten about you! Yes, I'd forgotten," Greyson rambled as two wings of absolute black sprouted out from his back. " But what do you think, Arsene? What do you think of this form?"
A Fallen? That's not possible.
No! I can't focus on that.
"Greyson, what the bloody hell has happened," I shouted, approaching Eroma, who was trembling in a fury. I'd only seen in demons. "How did you become Moloch's disciple?"
"Because if I didn't, I would have been Belphegor Thalls."
"The Grimoire, Rituals of Damnation—"
"Written by The Lord of Damnation, Belphegor, " Greyson said, sliding down the bodies as though he were snowboarding. He smiled, "The plot of Mephsio protected you, but I wasn't, nor was my wife."
"I've been researching how to resurrect someone for more than a billion years, more than a half a cycle, and with each failure, I felt I was getting closer. I'd always thought I was getting closer till I found myself cutting into a mother just to preserve a perfect specimen to resurrect my true love. It was all for her AHAHAHAHAHA~.' BUT YOU! YOU! FUCKED ME, YOU AND YOUR DAMN FAMILY!"
'Grey—"
"Shut your fucking mouth!" He howled, and his arm flashed, gripping my throat, lifting me off my feet; startled by this change as I'd assume we were humans, I grunted.
"No. No. No. No. No. No. it's not your fault you didn't ask to be a Snow, nor did I. Just bad luck, just bad luck," He rambled on, releasing me with a large smile. "Master had told me that Belphegor was just fucking with me, watching me squirm without hope. He came to me with my wife's soul, and a contract was made, her life for my freedom."
"You fool, you made a deal with a Fallen!" Eroma snapped fearlessly, approaching Greyson, sending a ruthless punch over his face.
"Your freedom! Are you mad? He could do whatever he wanted with—
"Come now, Eroma? I'm not so bad; Truly, I'm quite a saint, and I really am true to my word." The amused voice of Moloch echoed. "I'm sure you can trust that. After all, I've no reason to lie to someone so weak as you. I just wanted a Snow just for myself."
"Belphegor asked you open this gate, and in exchange, he would give you Grey, isn't that right," I said, connecting a few dots, as I held my neck that was almost crushed by Greyson's immense strength.
"Ding Ding Ding," He said, " And I even got you here fulfilling my deal with Mephisto. Even if you don't recognize him as your Master, he still cares for you. How sweet." He sarcastically said.
"So you just wanted Greyson? But why?"
"This isn't the part where the villain explains his goal." Moloch remarked, "I just wanted to show you that I'll be caring for Greyson and his little wife, my second disciple. I was quite surprised how much of a monster she was when I gathered her soul; this fourth Heaven was way too small for her."
Title: Moloch Disciple