The Devil's Own

Prologue

Fear is the most powerful emotion. Fear dictates all of our behavior, whether we are aware of its presence of not. People fear death, change, the unknown, and the loss of a loved one but what they should really fear is fear itself. Fear is the cause of all the hatred, discrimination, violence, and chaos in the world. Rulers use violence to subjugate and spread fear to the masses because the rulers themselves are afraid of the masses and of losing the power that they gained by manipulating the fears of others. People discriminate against those who have a different skin color, gender, beliefs, and lifestyles. They discriminate because they are afraid. They are afraid that their own values or beliefs may be wrong or inferior and that they may be leading meaningless lives. The only way they can feel secure is to demean those that could threaten their own values. They have to convince themselves that others are inferior to give themselves worth. Fear is a cycle that never ends because fear begets fear.

Even though fear causes prejudice, fear itself is not prejudice. Fear is an emotion common to all living things. The dumbest animal to the most omnipotent and omniscient being experiences fear. The worst part about fear is that no one is immune to it. Some people can control their fear better than others can, but even the bravest knight feels the cold sensation of fear creep down his spine as he rides into battle. Even the gods tremble in the iron grasp of fear. How can one combat such a ruthless force that can make the all powerful cower before it?

My name is Dyce. My world has been overrun by demons and although I am known as a demon hunter, that is not who I am. I do not fight demons, I fight fear. I battle against the very cause of murder, slavery, violence, oppression and hatred that afflicts our world. It is a difficult battle and as I said no one is impervious to fear, not even myself. Nonetheless, I know I must fight and overcome my fear and as well as the fear of others. It is only when there is no more fear in the world that peace can truly exist.


Chapter 1:Bad Memories

It had been ten years since I last stood before the grave of my family. Ten years since everyone I knew and cared for was brutally slaughtered. As I stand before their graves, the memory of that day floods into mind, saturating my thoughts with the horrors that I witnessed. Every time the images flash through my mind, my body feels on the verge of collapse as the weight of the pain and agony try to crush me. Even after all my training I do not know where I find the strength to bear these memories. I was eight then, just a child of a poor fisherman, ignorant of the chaos and destruction that lay in the world outside our humble village of Genetar. Those were the glorious days of my youth, back when I didn’t have a care in the world. My friends and I would play a game called heroes everyday while we waited for our fathers to return home from sea. Everyday new monsters threatened our fair village and everyday they met their demise after an epic battle with my friends and I. We were invincible; there was no monster that could match us in combat and no ordeal too dangerous that we couldn’t overcome it. It was on that horrifying day that our fantasy became reality and we learned the harshness of reality that does not exist in the imagination of a child. As I was about to learn there are few things worse than when a child is forced to grow up too soon.

I remember that day vividly, the memories forever imprinted in the clay of my mind. On that day the rain hammered the ground and the wind whipped through the sky; causing all the fishing ships to be grounded until the storm blew over. The weather may have been bleak, but it did not dampen my spirits. I was actually ecstatic about the weather because it meant that I was able to spend time with my father for the first time in weeks. He was going to play heroes with my friends and I. That day we were preparing to battle Gyurda, a giant beast that excreted an acidic liquid from his mouth way up in the sky appeared as rain. However, as we were preparing for our adventure other more dangerous monsters appeared, more dangerous for the simple fact that they were real.

These monsters have become known as demons. This is only a general name because there are many different demons each with its own hideously deformed body and abilities, but they all have one thing in common, a burning hatred for human life and a lust for destruction. No one knows exactly when the first demons were encountered or where they came from, but this knowledge would be worthless anyway because no matter where they came from they are cold-blooded killers. They spare no human life.

My father and I were preparing to embark on our quest and my mother was cleaning the dishes from lunch when we heard the first cries of agony and terror. The shrill screams of the first victims pierced our eardrums causing the cold river of terror to trickle down our spines. My mother, frightened out of her wits, dropped a plate which shattered into pieces upon hitting the floor. My father regained his bearings and quickly grabbed the only serviceable weapon we owned, a hatchet for cutting wood. As I stood petrified by the sounds of the death and destruction, my father ran out the front door. Although every muscle in body told me to find cover for my mother and I, I was able to overcome my fear and race to the front door to determine the fate of my beloved father. I opened the door just enough to see the bloody battle that ensued in the streets. What I saw was forever etched in my memory.
The disfigured corpses of the villagers were strewn in the muddy streets, their blood combined with the rain to create a crimson deluge that swept through the village, painting the entire village a faint red. The sight of the mangled bodies of the villagers, made me sick to my stomach, but the more I looked the worse the situation became. While I was scanning the roads in search of my father, something crashed through the walls of our house. I turned back to see, my father’s corpse horribly mutilated and deformed. His body had been forced into a human knot and lacerated with something razor sharp. My body’s impulse forced me to vomit violently at the sight.
After recovering my composure, I ran back towards my mother who was cowering in the corner, her eyes closed in the seemingly futile hope that if she couldn’t see it, it couldn’t be happening. When I reached her I grasped her tight, clutching her as if she were the life preserver that would save me from drowning in this horrible nightmare. Unfortunately the moment of relief I felt as I hugged her tight was soon over. Two of the hideous beasts burst in through the hole in the wall and began to stare at us with the searing fire of their red, glowing eyes. Their fiery gaze felt like it was burning my flesh. I could never have imagined any creature that appeared more terrifying as what stood before my mother and I. They had reptilian scales, but their face and ears had a lupine quality. Their most memorable feature however, were the three inch razor sharp claws that protruded from their hands. Anyone who saws those claws knew that they foretold of impending death.

The demons let out deadly shrieks and began to slowly close for the kill. The wait was agonizing. From their unhurried descent upon us I could tell they were toying with us. I could almost sense that they enjoyed watching the trembling bodies of my mother and I; they enjoyed our fear. As we watched them approach, my mother whispered something in my ear that I would never forget. “I love you and will always be there for you, but now you must run and save yourself. I will protect you the best that I can,” she said softly in my ear as tears slid down her cheeks. My mouth instinctively began to open to protest, but as I gazed into her eyes I could see the absolute resolve in them and I fell speechless. As the demons closed, she pushed me away and grabbed the broom that was standing nearby. More demons were gathering at the front and I had no other option than to ascend the nearby stairs. As I sprinted for the stairs the demons lunge after me, but my mother dove in between the demons and I, clubbing one on the head with broom to no avail. I closed my eyes and ran up the stairs, trying to block out the screams of my mother’s last few breaths.

I soon realized that climbing the stairs had gained me nothing more than a few more seconds of life. The only exit was a two story jump from the window into the streets crawling with demons. Within moments the demons effortlessly surged up the stairs, with blood dripping from their claws. I only had a moment to think. I had to decide rather to stay where I was and die now or prolong my life for a few short seconds by leaping out the window. My survival instincts chose the window.
As I fell towards the ground, my mind raced frantically trying to create a plan for my escape. However, my thoughts went blank as I crashed into ground. After what must have been only a few seconds I regained consciousness and realized that my head was bleeding. I also felt a sharp pain in my left arm, which I quickly discovered had shattered from the impact of the fall. My vision had become obscured by the blood that had flowed into my eyes, but I could hear what sounded like dozens of demons closing in for the kill. As they approached I began to slowly stand up. To this day I do not know why I stood, only that I had to stand. I like to think that I stood in defiance. I was defying not only the demons, but the pain, anguish, and terror that tormented me throughout the ordeal. As I regained my feet, I turned in a slow circle to watch my imminent death approaching. I am not sure what happened next, but I can remember what I felt. I could feel my hatred, my anger, my fear, my pain, and my anguish combining in my body into a ball of pure emotions. Just as I could feel the ball about to burst a demon lunged at me and that is all I remember before I lost consciousness again.

When I awoke my vision was blurry and my mind was clouded. The deprivation of my senses made it impossible for me to determine what was going on around me. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t move my body at all. All I could feel was the faint but sharp pain that seemed to cover my entire body as if I was being poked with needles all over my body. Slowly life crept into my appendages and although my body had regained some strength, my senses were still obscured. As my feeling began to return to my body I felt a strange sensation; my body was felt incredibly warm despite the touch of the cool mud upon my skin. As I explored this curious sensation, my mind began to remember those last few moments before I blacked out. As the memories consumed my thoughts, I began to realize something didn’t make sense. Why had the demons, those ruthless killers, let me live? Had they mistaken me for dead, when I collapsed in a pool of my own blood? I wanted to know what had happened, but became frustrated when my sight did not return. As I cursed in vain at my fortune, I came to realization that my hearing was functional, but it took me a moment to comprehend why I hadn’t noticed that before. All I was hearing was silence. It was not like any silence I had ever known, it was pure silence, the type of silence that can only exist when nothing else does. I would not have known that my hearing had returned if it had not been for the sound of the wind gently blowing by my ear that was like a thunder clap relative to that silence. This sudden awareness of the lack of life and movement produced a shear feeling of terror as I being to realize the possibilities of the situation. Was I dead or was everyone and everything else dead? Although I could not be certain, the fact that I was able to feel led me to believe that I still lived. If I was still living that could only mean that the demons left nothing else alive, not even the smallest bird or rodent. They were truly monsters.

I lay for what seemed like hours in the mud with tears slowly streaming down my face wondering why I was left alone to suffer such a fate. It is a terrible sensation to live, when so many of your dearest friends and family have died right before your eyes. Their dying cries of agony echoed in my mind. The pain became too much for my fragile spirit to bear. I tried to will myself to death, to just stop breathing so that I may rejoin them and be set free from this agony. However, no matter how much I wanted to die, my body refused to quit on me.
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Although the events that transpired ten years ago pain me more than anything, I will never forget them. I cannot forget them. To forget our pain and agony is to forget everything that makes us alive. Without pain and suffering we are not human. Without these feelings we would be no different than the beasts that caused this tragedy. Even though the pain still plagues my memories, I will not run from it. Running from problems never eliminates them, it just delays and often amplifies their effects. It is difficult to stand up against these memories, often times the thoughts drain the energy from my body. I will never surrender to the pain because overcoming the most difficult ordeals in life yields the greatest rewards. I know someday I will be able to rid myself of these nightmares, but even then I will not forget what has happened. Although people will always carry their bad memories, they should remember one thing: it is impossible to change your past, but it is always possible to change the future because it has yet to written.