Day 18,251

I’ve been dead for fifty years now. The torture I’ve endured has numbed me, but my determination sustains me. Today’s torture was provided by Hulnyx, a demon who enjoys my tears and my blood. When I first arrived on the demonic plane, I didn’t know a soul could bleed. I didn’t know a soul could feel what I’ve felt all these years. We’re taught of Hell, of the devil and all that he creates, but nothing prepares you for the truth of what this place offers.

My skin has been peeled from my body as I scream in agony. My bones broken inch by inch. I’m a toy in the hands of a manic child. I’m a doll, only here to be broken.

Hulnyx prefers slow tortures. Small things that cause the utmost pain. He always begins with my wife. The thought of her growing old without me. The visions of her body being used by men who smell of urine and beer. Men who throw coins at her feet as she cries into a filthy mattress. Even now, the thought brings tears to my eyes. I died and left her unprotected. She’s alone, and it’s my fault.

Hulnyx knows I cannot hide my pain. He knows that when he shows me the many times my wife has birthed and lost random men’s babies I fall apart even more. The stench that seeps from his mouth as he laughs in my face is like nothing a mortal can imagine. Maggot-riddled meat, putrid waste, copper and sulphur are the only things that come close in my mind.

Once he crushes my mind, he does the same to my body. Each powerful blow taking a piece of me apart. My screams only excite him. My pain making him hard. The blood spilling from my shattered legs fills the room we’re in and before I’m able to pass out, he snaps his fingers and my body awakens with energy. No soul can sleep on the demonic plane. We must feel each moment. Hulnyx reaches my pelvis and brings the large hammer down on me again. My spine goes rigid and I can no longer hear the sounds coming from my mouth.

I’m only given a reprieve as he comes on the floor, his pleasured groans forcing bile up my throat. This torture continues until he’s shattered every part of me. I’m flattened on a board and conscious for the entire event.

This is the demonic plane. This is my cursed fate.

I hate it. I hate him. And yet…

I want nothing more than to be him. To be the one smiling while another weeps. To let my temptation roam free and indulge in the plane’s power. Fifty years of watching myself and others crumble has only made me want to be a part of the Master’s world. To serve him.

It’s in that thought that makes me understand why I was destined to be here.