I want to understand it. Control it. Nurture it.
No, that'snotme. That's Tharuzel, or the blood contract, or this place twisting my thoughts.
Movement catches my attention… Tharuzel's attention.
Chains rattle off to the side, and my view shifts. My heart lurches as he comes into view.
S’Nark.
S’Narkathis of Endless Ridicule, my annoying, mouthy witch’s familiar, is bound to four others being dragged behind a massive, three-legged, hairy horror with a hunched back. The beast has four spiked tentacled arms that it’s using to smack its prisoners, keeping them tightly bunched.
S’Nark is in his lesser demon form—which always reminds me of Stripe from Gremlins—and is bound in irons, wrapped so tightly around his little wrists that blood is dripping to the stone ground.
His fellow prisoners don’t look like they’re faring much better. Every one of them looks exhausted and ruined.
Thisis why he hasn't answered my calls. He's been here, trapped, held by Tharuzel.
Why? As insurance? As leverage against me?
Rage floods hot through my veins—my emotion, not the demon's—and I want to scream. S’Nark might be a pain in the ass, but he'smypain in the ass. Somehow, I have to get him out of those chains and out of this place.
Tharuzel's attention shifts again, and my view is dragged along with it.
Cold snakes over my skin like I’m dunked in ice water.
I let out a whimpered gasp as my brain stalls out…
Off to the left of the stone courtyard, a space that must be fifty feet deep and twice as wide, is absolutely stuffed full of ghosts… no, they aren’t ghosts.
Twisting in torment, these echoes of people are trapped behind a glowing electrical field. Seeing the state of their suffering scares the shit out of me like nothing else ever has.
What the hell is he doing to them?
I blink, the wrongness of it making me nauseous. Rows upon rows of the vague outlines of people writhe, shoulder to shoulder in the shadows of this purgatory.
And yes, they are souls—not ghosts—I’m sure of it now.
I realize with growing horror that these are human souls, being harvested and absorbed by Tharuzel, like some kind of demon battery bank.
And the collection is growing.
With a burst of scarlet energy, like a lone firework explosion against the darkness, a stern-looking man takes form, trapped like the others.
The new arrival is much more translucent than the souls around him, some of his neighbors being almost opaque.
I feel the surge of potential as the stern man’s soul is tethered to the collective. The darkness of this bond feeds me. I absorb the boost to my strength, and extend my clawed hand before me.
With each soul added to my harvest, I grow stronger.
I flex my clawed fingers, testing my strength, and then push at the wards containing me. They give a little more each day. Soon I will be strong enough to break free and claim my reward on the human plane.
The images that ooze through my mind are horrific, and yet I don’t find them repugnant. Tharuzel’s mark on me is worming deeper, a high-pitched song aligning my darkness with his.
Soon I won't be able to tell where Poppy ends and Tharuzel begins. Terror claws up my throat.
The hopelessness of that pulls me further into despair… but then… there’s something else. Something is inching through the horrors of this place, seeking. Something green and growing, and alive with potential.
The plant energy warming my insides is wild, strong, and familiar.
