03-14-2016, 11:07 PM
The Underverse isn't very complicated, it's like a giant prison really. It isn't like Coruscant with their mountains of legislature and red tape, in the Underverse there is but one rule – dominate or be dominated. This was a world one could learn to live in, it was a world that I had already learned to live in before I had even been dragged to the Omniverse. Dedan told me everything, he told me of the demon lords and their subjects, the infernal hierarchy of this hellish penitentiary. Finally he spoke of Diablo, the Prime Evil, the big dick on campus. I had a certain admiration for the monster, after all everyone is a monster, just to varying measures and degrees of success. Escaping this shattered land would no doubt be through Diablo's will and his alone, if escaping was even possible.
“Will you let me go now?” Dedan hissed through his forked tongue.
“No,” I growled back.
“No?” he pushed up against the barrel of my weapon and I slammed him back into the dirt, “are you going to kill me then?!”
“No,” I responded, “ listen Dedan, and listen well, you are my property now. When I tell you to jump, you better ask 'how high'. I'm not some second-rate amateur that bumbled his way into the Underverse, I'm a dangerous man with a vicious arsenal, and trust me Dedan, I have no qualms about using it. Am I clear?”
The demon's fearsome eyes avoided my gaze, his fear was a product of my dominion over his life. Every breath was drawn simply because I had chosen not to extinguish it. Dedan was my property and he would be treated as such. One of the first things they teach you in the special forces is how to subdue someone using rope. The demon’s physiology was slightly different than a human a prehensile tail and bat wings mad the standard method’s of restraint ineffective.
“Your wings are a nuisance,” I remarked, and tied the rope tight around his torso. The still-warm barrel of the flak cannon pressed against his lower back reminded him not to struggle. This demon of hate would be my bargaining chip with the lesser lords of the Underverse. His flesh was worth little, but his subjugation meant that I was not one to be fucked with. My ticket to surviving this hellhole was wrapped tight and forced to march, directly towards the heart of the Underverse. According to Dedan, most of the denizens of the Underverse act as vassals to the hellish lords. According to Dedan, this was a coward’s way of life, not that his current situation was much different.
“You better not lower your guard human,” Dedan threatened, “the second you do I’ll eviscerate you.”
“Don’t worry, I never lower my guard.”
Everyone should play Russian roulette at least once in their life. That creeping finality of the trigger pull brings a frightful anticipation to anyone who wishes to truly live should know. That dry cotton mouth feeling that you get as the cold barrel of the revolver is pressed against your temple. Your life doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn’t have a future. Time is divided from minutes to seconds to the hollow space hidden between heartbeats. Then relief, that almost orgasmic relief as the hammer clinks against an empty chamber. A new lease on life, the kind of salvation that those born-again Christians can only pray to achieve.
Maybe that isn’t very relatable.
Then again I suppose the Underverse isn’t very relatable to the majority of the Omniverse.
At any rate, Russian roulette is how I turned my life around, how I became who I am. The first time I played was long after little Timothy’s death. Long after I had talked to therapist after therapist about the ramification of watching my best friend get flattened like a pancake. No, we played our dangerous game in Barry’s basement. Out of the three of us he was the only one to have his own place, and he was the only one with a revolver. Most people start with blanks, or with nothing at all, and play it off as a joke. We skipped that step, one round in the chamber, one trigger pull each. That’s how I earned my first stint in jail. Barry wasn’t as lucky as us, he spun the cylinder and without flinching splattered his brains across his wool couch. Real shame too, it was a damn fine couch. Nicky ratted on me in exchange for a lighter sentence, the fucking coward, he said I shot Barry. To this day it boggles my mind how Nicky could undercut Barry’s brave journey to hell by trying to pin it all on me. No matter, in a way I should thank the frightened little cunt, he’s the reason I spent so much time in prison, he’s the reason I learned how to survive down here.
“Dedan,” I crooned, “take me to the heart of the Underverse, I want to meet the lords of hell.”
“They’ll skin you alive,” he laughed, a quick nudge from my barrel forced him to start walking.
“Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the meanest motherfucker in the goddamned valley.”
“Will you let me go now?” Dedan hissed through his forked tongue.
“No,” I growled back.
“No?” he pushed up against the barrel of my weapon and I slammed him back into the dirt, “are you going to kill me then?!”
“No,” I responded, “ listen Dedan, and listen well, you are my property now. When I tell you to jump, you better ask 'how high'. I'm not some second-rate amateur that bumbled his way into the Underverse, I'm a dangerous man with a vicious arsenal, and trust me Dedan, I have no qualms about using it. Am I clear?”
The demon's fearsome eyes avoided my gaze, his fear was a product of my dominion over his life. Every breath was drawn simply because I had chosen not to extinguish it. Dedan was my property and he would be treated as such. One of the first things they teach you in the special forces is how to subdue someone using rope. The demon’s physiology was slightly different than a human a prehensile tail and bat wings mad the standard method’s of restraint ineffective.
“Your wings are a nuisance,” I remarked, and tied the rope tight around his torso. The still-warm barrel of the flak cannon pressed against his lower back reminded him not to struggle. This demon of hate would be my bargaining chip with the lesser lords of the Underverse. His flesh was worth little, but his subjugation meant that I was not one to be fucked with. My ticket to surviving this hellhole was wrapped tight and forced to march, directly towards the heart of the Underverse. According to Dedan, most of the denizens of the Underverse act as vassals to the hellish lords. According to Dedan, this was a coward’s way of life, not that his current situation was much different.
“You better not lower your guard human,” Dedan threatened, “the second you do I’ll eviscerate you.”
“Don’t worry, I never lower my guard.”
Everyone should play Russian roulette at least once in their life. That creeping finality of the trigger pull brings a frightful anticipation to anyone who wishes to truly live should know. That dry cotton mouth feeling that you get as the cold barrel of the revolver is pressed against your temple. Your life doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn’t have a future. Time is divided from minutes to seconds to the hollow space hidden between heartbeats. Then relief, that almost orgasmic relief as the hammer clinks against an empty chamber. A new lease on life, the kind of salvation that those born-again Christians can only pray to achieve.
Maybe that isn’t very relatable.
Then again I suppose the Underverse isn’t very relatable to the majority of the Omniverse.
At any rate, Russian roulette is how I turned my life around, how I became who I am. The first time I played was long after little Timothy’s death. Long after I had talked to therapist after therapist about the ramification of watching my best friend get flattened like a pancake. No, we played our dangerous game in Barry’s basement. Out of the three of us he was the only one to have his own place, and he was the only one with a revolver. Most people start with blanks, or with nothing at all, and play it off as a joke. We skipped that step, one round in the chamber, one trigger pull each. That’s how I earned my first stint in jail. Barry wasn’t as lucky as us, he spun the cylinder and without flinching splattered his brains across his wool couch. Real shame too, it was a damn fine couch. Nicky ratted on me in exchange for a lighter sentence, the fucking coward, he said I shot Barry. To this day it boggles my mind how Nicky could undercut Barry’s brave journey to hell by trying to pin it all on me. No matter, in a way I should thank the frightened little cunt, he’s the reason I spent so much time in prison, he’s the reason I learned how to survive down here.
“Dedan,” I crooned, “take me to the heart of the Underverse, I want to meet the lords of hell.”
“They’ll skin you alive,” he laughed, a quick nudge from my barrel forced him to start walking.
“Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the meanest motherfucker in the goddamned valley.”