Hellhole

Jean came to with a gasp for air. He coughed, but the sudden movement stung wretchedly, his body screaming in pain. He couldn't move, and he choked on blood while his mind swam with incoherence. Groaning, he forced himself to move onto his side. Spitting up a mouthful of blood, his body shook with pain. Once the blood trickled, he limply moved into a supine position. He hadn't even opened his eyes yet; they were sore, a horrible throbbing in his very nerves. He could barely even think.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Since he became inhuman, he could see clearly in the dark. In his current condition, he couldn't see anything but blackness with swirling, sickening colors mixed in. He didn't panic. He just needed to regenerate.

Never had he been so thankful for his inhumanity. He couldn't die here.

Wherever "here" was.

He couldn't discern if danger was present, but in his condition, he had no right to worry; every inch of his being yearned for rest. With a soft groan, he let his eyes close.

"Jean."

"Zarryel," he said, his voice barely a whisper. The smallest of smiles pulled at his lips.

"I sense you're in pain..."

"I'm...alright," he managed. "I just need...rest."

Briefly, the sensation of his mate's metaphysical caress ran through him, easing him down to his bones.

When he opened his eyes again, he felt significantly better. He must have fallen asleep.

What first came to his attention were the Infernals around him. Or rather, they were around him but not in his immediate area. He slowly sat upright, spitting out more blood to the side, and struggled to his feet. Looking around, his night-vision sight met the rock walls of the ruggedly enclosed space he stood in. The faintest of light came from above, but its distance from him made it a mere white dot overhead.

How did I even survive such a fall...

Rolling his shoulders, he figured he had two options. There was a possibility his group would look for him, a mighty high one, and he could wait it out and stay put. He sensed his injuries were still rather major in the grand scheme of things, and his magical reserves wouldn't fill for a while, making it impossible for him to make it to the surface with magic.

His second option? Go exploring. He needed to find the origin of the Infernals plaguing the island. However, he didn't know what lived in what appeared to be the underground cavern his group mentioned. Proceeding could be dangerous.

With a sigh, he glanced once more at the dot far above. He couldn't tell how much time had passed since he fell...

Lowering his head, he moved towards a nearby ledge. He sensed more Infernals in the reddish, foul-smelling mist below. Lips pursing, his fingers wandered to his hip and brushed over his holster.

His heart jumped to his throat.

Ringe was missing.

His teeth clenched and his eyes snapped shut. He grasped at the empty air where the gun would be, then lowered his hand in resignation. Moving away from the ledge, he at first glanced around for it, then walked around the immediate space. He tried to remain calm, but his heart sank as the minutes went on without a sign of his beloved heirloom.

It came to his attention as he looked around that a demonic presence was close--a weak one, explaining why he didn't initially notice it--and the strong smell of human body fluids filled the air as he neared the source. Suspicious and a touch confused, he slowly approached what appeared to be a body lying supine on the ground.

It was of a masculine build, something he only knew from years of identifying human remains, and consisted mostly of splattered organs. But it strangely lacked the proper amount of blood despite its freshness. What little he could identify he mentally described as "emaciated". Relatively large holes covered the body that, to his trained eye, reminded him of bites left over from a blood-sucking creature.

It took a moment, but he recognized it as the body of the man who had been in the tangles of the plant demon's limbs. To leave a considerable amount of blood inside him had to be for some purpose. Perhaps it planned on eating him later? Or...

Jean looked the body over without approaching, magnifying his eyesight to give it a closer inspection. Despite its splattered state, it bore a swollen stomach which struck him as unusual. Unsheathing his sword, he prodded at the stomach with the pointed tip and then sliced it open.

What almost immediately spilled out appeared to be marble-sized white bulbs connected by some viscous tissue. He grimaced deeply in recognition. Lowering his sword, he set his free hand alight with a bit of blue fire. He threw the magic upon the body, watching it promptly cover it in a blaze that he took several steps from. The presence of the demonic energy shortly faded.

He swiped his sword, then sheathed it at his right hip. Turning, he walked towards the ledge. He took a moment to digest the fact the demon indeed laid its eggs in the man's body, murmuring a prayer for him. His thoughts then returned to the loss of Ringe.

He glanced at the ledge where it had likely fallen over. Fortunately, he still had Valk along with his sword Hilde. None of the alchemical vials he had survived, unsurprisingly...

He had little choice but to continue downward. If he stayed waiting for his men, it could take some time before they found him. Part of him furthermore felt inclined to dissuade his men from entering the cavern.

Steeling himself, he pulled a glow stick from a pocket on his belt and cracked it, causing it to glow a bright blue. He dropped it off the ledge, watching after it. Down it went, falling through the uncanny red until he could no longer see it. He reached with his hearing and heard a splat instead of a clatter.

He sighed to himself, readying his magic before walking off the edge. The red enveloped him, and the smell of something oddly like sulfur reached his sensitive nose. As he fell, he became hyper-aware of the Infernals. They were closer, scurrying near. From what he could sense, their signatures matched the plant demons.

Most of them, rather.

He focused on landing safely this time, reaching with his senses until he finally took notice of the ground nearing him. He created a platform for him to land on that slowed his fall before he stepped onto it. Cautiously, he looked around, letting the platform remain materialized for a few moments as he slowly lowered.

If he strained his perceptions, he sensed both humans and demons of a different sort. Worrying. Combined with what the plant demons were capable of, humans among them created some mighty unpleasant scenarios in his mind. It would be best to travel via his platforms, but, as he needed to reserve the little magic he had, he let it dissipate.

Landing soundlessly, he gave the air a deeper sniff. The sulphuric smell prevailed but it mixed with that of blood that positively permeated the space. He imagined plenty of it coated the ground. The dim light of the glow stick only proved this thought correct, as it had landed in some.

Most curiously, the blood wasn't human. He frowned, glancing around and slowly walking forward. Wet rock walls surrounded him, reminding him of his below-sea-level state. If he had to reckon a guess, and thus form an uncomfortable thought, the cavern existed below the seabed.

He glanced to the far left of the hall-like space, only for relief to wash over him. He swiftly moved and lowered to pick up the familiar gun off the wet ground. A relieved smile formed on his face as he beheld Ringe, looking over it to make sure it was in one piece.

Nothing felt loose, nothing chipped, as he expected from a magical revolver pistol. Checking the cylinder, it pleased him to see the remaining bullets were in place. He had two rounds left before the backup of twelve in the magazine.

Clicking the cylinder into place, he glanced up when he sensed movement nearing him. He imagined the demons weren't too happy that he entered their play-place. Like his magic, he needed to reserve his bullets. He locked the gun into its holster and unsheathed his sword before continuing forward.

Just a few feet down the hall, it opened significantly into a large space that may have been a medieval hall or other; he couldn't quite make it out. Regardless, parts of ruins dotted the area, some in great chunks on their sides. What set the structures apart from anything he had seen before were the designs and runes that covered them, all of which were foreign to him, even with all his familiarity with inhuman and human texts.

Despite this, he could read the runes. He had his mate to thank for that.

His narrowed eyes darted over the words. From what little he could read, as the moisture had weathered them, the beings who made the ruins worshiped a powerful inhuman. Quickly, he looked over another ruin.

"Humans made these," he muttered aloud. That can't be right...

Screeching and roaring interrupted his thoughts, causing his head to snap up into the direction of another hall further ahead and behind some more ruins.

Those roars weren't from the plant demons.

Without hesitation, he moved towards them, grasping his sword firmly in hand.

* * *

Since he left the large ruined area, which was an indeterminable amount of time, he learned something curiously disturbing.

Two different demons were fighting each other.

Thanks to this, he navigated the underground with relative ease, though the plant demons were the only ones that would take time to attack him instead of the Infernals that reminded him of muscular imps with dense carapaces. When the tentacles of the plant demons came for his heels, he didn't bother stopping to slice them off or away, putting most of his focus on escaping them and evading their attacks without looking back.

In spite of his situation, he felt rather exhilarated. It constantly stifled him, living a human life. To freely use his inhuman abilities without restraint or worry gave him a nice high and lifted a weight from his shoulders.

Dodging away from another barbed vine, he allowed his senses to lead him to where he detected the humans further away. Aware he couldn't bring the demons to them, he ran towards a wall. Jumping high, he bounded off the surface and swung his sword down, letting loose choice waves of destructive magic that blasted through a collective of both demons. They corroded, and he easily took care of the few that were left behind upon landing on the ground.

The demons' shrieks rang out in the dark space, and he swept the area for anything more. He didn't sense any nearby, though there were plenty further ahead in the darkness and rock. He gave a barely audible huff, turning back towards the humans' direction and walking with a bloodied Hilde at his side.

He came upon scores of fighting demons while making his way through. The plants would actively disengage from their fights with the imps to go after him. His presence agitated them, and they flailed their limbs and struck the ground with buzzing sounds whenever he approached them. They didn't want him there any more than he wanted to be.

Yet, here he was.

Vegetation dotted the ruined space, becoming denser the closer he came to the humans' location. In any other situation, he'd be glad to see this sign of life aside from the demons themselves. Instead, it made him hesitant. But the humans were still alive; he couldn't leave them to further abuse from the Infernal hordes.

His resolve rekindled, and he took quick, purposeful strides towards what appeared to be a massive oval-shaped entrance to another area. He heard shuffling from the demons within, as well as their irate thumping. The moment he appeared in the threshold, he sliced a thick tendril that shot at him.

A large plant demon, roughly if not the size of the one that had been in the graveyard, shuffled towards him from the far left corner of the room covered in vegetation. Vegetation, and humans. Humans stuck in said vegetation. Seeing them entangled with the plants made him wince.

Interestingly, sufficient light emitted from glowing fungi that reminded him of those that grew within Hallowed Ground, allowing the humans to see him clearly enough. He focused on the demon before him. As he ducked swiftly away from several thorny limbs, he used magic to extend the length of his sword. After dodging, he swung right, releasing a wave of white-tinged energy that made the room shudder precariously. With surprising speed, the demon missed the attack with a jump.

Keeping it in his sight, he brandished his whip instead of manifesting one, striking back at the limbs shooting at him. Sheathing his sword, as it would destroy the confined space, he dodged easily around the many limbs that struck at him.

As he moved, he swung his whip, which danced around him to create a sort of malleable barrier that destroyed the appendages. When the demon landed, he turned at an angle and drew his gun to shoot it in the dead center. Upon making impact with the bullet, the creature only managed a shrill shriek before bursting.

Raising a magical barrier to protect himself from its remains, he looked towards the heavily vegetated wall. He retracted his whip and holstered Ringe. The demon remains shortly corroded to nothingness, allowing him to lower his shield and slowly approach the people. He scanned them critically.

Most were conscious and had watched him take the demon out. There were at least eight of them, the oldest perhaps middle-aged and the youngest a teen. As he neared, his worst fears became apparent.

Most of them were barely decent, their clothes varying degrees of shredded and punctured. Each appeared to be in shock, staring at him with expressionless eyes or empty gazes. He hadn't a clue how long the demons held them captive, but one telltale sign told him it had been for far longer than he had been in the cavern. Each had nodes under their skin and heavily bloated, veiny stomachs.

He didn't have to guess. Judging by their clothes, the infestation was from head to toe, inside and out. He gazed solemnly at them, his heart heavy. They were too far along to bring with him. He doubted they could move, even if he did free them of the vegetation that seemed determined to swallow them.

"I'm sorry," he said, speaking loud to compensate for his hoarse voice.

There wasn't a response, just the same blank and endless staring. He knew what to do, though he wished he didn't have to. It would be better to die than to exist in such a state.

Briefly, he closed his eyes, murmuring a prayer for them. He brought a small canister from a pocket and looked it over to make sure it was intact. He considered his next actions before spraying a large circle around the people, getting the ground and foliage on the wall. He hated the thought of spraying them, but it had to be done. He did so quickly, marking the inner portion of the circle with runes. He didn't look at the people as he worked, their blank expressions of suffering already seared into his mind.

Once finished, he took several steps back while putting the canister away. Placing his hands on the ground, just on the edge of the circle, he channeled his magic into the large symbol. Streams of orange swirled up from the circle, curling around and enveloping the people.

Orange light of purification emitted from the ground, hiding the people from view. There were no screams, no sounds of pain. Standing, he searched for any sign of life, any movement, that showed the people were still there.

When the light died down, he lowered his head upon seeing the clean rock wall, bare even of plants. Remnants of the thin orange tendrils spiraled in the air before dissipating.

For just a moment, he sensed presences in the space with him. They were passive, but composed. It differed from anything he had sensed in the underground realm thus far. Placing a hand over his heart, he closed his eyes.

The people would be at peace.

Without a second's hesitation, he turned and left the forsaken area, slipping Hilde back into his hand. Several shambling, growling forms were further in the darkness, some fighting the two-legged demons, others rushing towards him.

His mood soured, he wasted no time to slice them apart, putting a bit of magic into the swing to send them flying as they charred away.

He would find their nest. In his heart, he promised it to their victims.