***The Infernal Planes***

***Demonling***

I was shunted back into existence right as I had been when I touched the Anima Stone to have my first other-dimensional experience. Even though I was still a little stunned from the feeling of having someone squash me to death, I felt that there was something different as I removed my hand from the artefact.

My power had definitely increased and I couldn't tell for certain, but something told me that I knew more than before! Mostly things that were insignificant to my current existence, but there was something new in the back of my mind. It felt like a second repository of memories, far smaller than my first one. Did that mean that it was worth less than the first one?

How was this possible? Had I inadvertently killed someone on my little dimensional trip? Had my excretions done more damage to that human than I expected? Or had I inadvertently done something that warranted the fulfilment of the summoning contract? Was it because my summoner was killed?

But I wasn't the one who did it. If I understood everything correctly, then the succubus should have gathered their souls.

The question would be left unsolved for now, as the caretaker decided that it was time and carelessly shoved me away from the Anima Stone with his foot. “Next! I don’t have all day and it’s rather unlikely that any of you will manage to get a soul on your first trip anyway. You will have to hope that whatever infernal legion decides to recruit you will issue you some souls to prevent permanent death.”

I quickly get out of the way, avoiding the other demonlings who are still waiting for their chance. More importantly, I suddenly had a big aversion to boots or overly large feet in general. Dying by being stepped on once was enough, thank you very much.

“And don’t forget that once you are registered by the network, other realms will be able to call upon you. Unless you have a binding contract, it’s up to you whether you decide to heed the call or to ignore it. It's not unheard of for a mortal summoner to reach out for a random servant, not caring who or what they call upon in their foolish ignorance,” the caretaker continues his explanation of how the soul-gathering system works. “The whole process will work much more easily if you give yourself a name to go by...”

My attention is only partly on the caretaker's half-assed explanations as I hurry to get back into my crevice. Given what I learned about the importance of contracts among demon-kind, using your real name would be a really bad idea. Some instinctive knowledge tells me to never use my real name in any contract, or I might sign away my freedom for all eternity.

Is this some knowledge that I gained through absorbing this new soul? It somehow contradicts with the knowledge of my first soul. Scratching my head, I try to work out what's wrong until I remember the caretaker's teachings. A soul's memories wouldn't necessarily be correct, and it would be up to the soul's owner to filter out the truth.

Just peachy!

Once safely in my hideout, I settle down and allow myself to think about my experiences and how my situation has changed. One thing that’s for certain is that I would never tell anyone that I actually already had two souls.

If I remembered the lessons correctly, death came at a great cost, especially if I was killed by another demon. The iron rule among demonkind was that you could keep what you killed, at least in part and depending on the circumstances. Even if there was no proper challenge, killing another demon meant that you could keep a tenth of the enemy’s souls. In addition, the victim would have to pay one soul at the Anima Stone upon revival.

The caretaker had taught us that this law worked only in full numbers and that the Anima Stone had priority, which was the only reason why my brothers and sisters weren’t already at each other’s throats in an attempt to gather more souls for themselves.

A tenth of two souls was zero point two, which meant that if I was killed right now, my killer would get nothing while I would have to pay one soul to the Planar Lord who owned the Anima Stone which would revive me.

I had a feeling that this was the only reason why demon-society worked as it did at all. The powerful warlords had nothing to gain from picking on the weaker demons, and instead could gain a lot from killing stronger opponents.

That still left me with finding a name for myself. The caretaker had told us to just pick one and be done with it, but I had a feeling that there was more to the process. Not to forget, the nice Imp had also warned me about the importance of names.

Like some pitiful little demonling would deserve a true name! Do you even have what it takes to be more than some maggot that’s hiding in crevices!?

The unbidden thought that entered my mind made me shake in fear and rage. Cowering, I held my head, trying to force the other out of my mind. I was a demon! Why would some mortal soul within me have any right to tell me how worthless I was?

“I am not pitiful!” I hissed into the darkness of my hiding spot. “Doing the smart thing and surviving isn’t cowardice. Who are you to tell me that I am a maggot?”

Instead of a reply, I got nothing but silence.

Minutes passed as I sat there, hoping that the other would insert itself once more into my thoughts, therefore proving that I wasn’t insane or losing control over the souls that were linked to me. Souls were supposed to be nothing more than repositories of memories. Without a brain, they were supposed to be incapable of having a consciousness. Yet, the first soul I received kept influencing my mind like some ghost of the past, or some parasite worming itself ever closer to the surface.

Was I developing some sort of multiple personality disorder?

The caretaker had warned us about acquiring too many souls too quickly. It was an easy way to become more powerful, but it could also have dire consequences. Those who lost themselves to their captured souls either became shunned outcasts or were killed repeatedly until they regained control over themselves or died their final death.

Was the voice a sign that I was at risk of suffering such a fate? I had almost forgotten about the other, but this time it had felt more intense than ever before. Was it getting stronger? Could I risk asking the caretaker about it?

I shook my head. Even if I approached the caretaker and he wouldn’t kill me instantly, it was impossible to speak to him in private. And if I voiced my concerns in front of all of my hatchmates I would publicly announce my weakness. I would become even more of a target than I already was.

The large demonling from whom I stole my useless healing power already was out for my life. Whenever I left my crevice, I had to watch out that he wasn’t within reach. No, speaking to the caretaker was a fool’s decision.

So, my next step could only be to find my ‘true name’ and to prove the other wrong. By hinting that there was such a thing, the other may have even unwillingly helped me.

The only problem I had now was that I had no idea how to accomplish that.

And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, the voice in my head had a point. By doing nothing but hiding in my crevice, I would forever stay what the other had accused me of being. If I stayed and followed the path the caretaker had pointed out for me and my hatchmates, I would never change my fate.

I took a long time to reason out what I was about to do next. Considering my limited options, the only choice was to leave my hiding spot and to search a way out of the hatchery in order to become the smith of my own fate.

Slowly, I crept towards the edge of my hiding spot to study the rest of the cave. It wasn’t like I didn’t already know the place, having spent my entire life here, but there was a vital difference to the past and now, which was that I had never looked at my home with the intention of 'escaping' it.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

There were the walls of the slightly elongated cave, the ceiling and the floor with my surviving hatchmates who were picking through the stones on the ground, searching for something that was left from earlier feedings, or playing with the bones of their siblings.

Aside from the typical nooks and crannies of a natural cave, there was nothing that even hinted at a possible exit except for the obvious one which our caretaker took each day. The problem with that was the large boulder which he used to seal the cave’s entrance.

Given what he had told us about the Infernal Planes as a whole, I had my doubts that the boulder was there to keep us from going outside. Instead, it was more likely that it was meant to keep other things from coming inside to eat us. Sadly, his teachings had been lacking in regards to the Infernal Plane of Gluttony which I was supposed to be on.

But I couldn't change my lack of knowledge at the moment. There was no choice but to learn by doing if I was serious about my plan.

I had my doubts that I would be able to move such a large rock any time soon and if I somehow accomplished a miracle and managed to get all the demonlings inside the cave to work together… my eyes wandered to the mass of demonlings who were more likely to eat each other than to work for a common goal.

Screw that thought.

There was no hope of moving the damned thing without the caretaker’s help.

The only solution would be to dash outside while he was busy rolling the boulder aside. I would have to be quick because as soon as he was done, he would surely lash out in a knee-jerk reaction.

But then what? Was there actually a possibility of surviving in the outside world? In the Plane of Gluttony? What chance did a little demonling have on its own?

I kept watching the damned boulder as if I could actually gaze it away.

In the end, I had to admit that I would have to wait until the new feeding cycle arrived and take my chances. When the boulder was moved aside, I would have to be mingling with all the other demonlings and hope that I would catch a glimpse of what was outside the cave.

Not seeing that I could accomplish anything further right now, I went back to my hiding spot and slept.

The next morning came faster than I could wish for, despite the fact that my sleep had been light and uneasy because I kept anticipating what tomorrow might bring.

Sleeping demonlings were littering the ground when I left my hideout, fully intending to be among those closest to the exit. It was a dangerous spot to be in, but also a very popular one. After all, it was a prime position to get to the food-bowl.

I practically tiptoed my way through the swarm. Unlike them, I wasn't used to being in the open, so I twitched nervously every time something moved nearby – even if it was only a demonling scratching his butt. Never mingling with my brethren had caused me a definitive disadvantage.

It felt like an eternity, but I finally reached the spot which I regarded as the most promising. Not too close to the boulder in case that I was forced to change my plans if the outside wasn't inviting, yet close enough to make a run for it if I chose to go through with this insanity.

All that was left to do was to sit there and wait. And so I did, hoping that the boulder would soon move aside to give me freedom. Stubbornly, I kept waiting for the one thing that had repeated itself unerringly like clockwork.

Only that this day, it never did.

The demonlings around me woke up one by one and I kept sitting there in my stupor. I had considered every outcome except for the boulder not moving. Had the caretaker forgotten us? Had something happened to him?

“Look who we have here. The little worm came out to play.” A sinister voice made my thoughts freeze and I slowly turned around to face my adversary, not daring to show any weakness within the swarm.

I waited too long. Before me stood my old friend, the large demonling from whom I had stolen a worthless skill.

“Did you bite your tongue, little cockroach?” The large one stepped forward, backed by five other demonlings who apparently thought to increase their chances of survival by playing the large one’s minions.

My eyes flicked to the boulder which hadn’t moved and back again. “I am only waiting for the caretaker.”

The large one took another step closer. “Oh, are we hungry today? Hoping to be one of the first ones at the bowl?”

I didn’t answer, not expecting it to make any difference. Unlike any other time, I was too far away from my crevice and they were between me and safety.

“I am also hungry.” The large one nodded to himself. “And I think today’s menu is demonling. Get him boys!”

On his command, his minions surged forward with mad glee in their eyes. They weren’t as big or as strong as the large one, but each of them could overpower me without a problem. Getting a second soul hadn’t done anything for my strength or my arcane powers. In a contest of power, I could only roll over and die.

Move!

A moment before the first one reached me, both my hands shot out and gripped the other’s left arm as I threw myself to the side, still holding onto him.

The combined forces of him continuing on his path and myself pulling sideways with all my weight were enough. His wrist snapped at the joint, provoking a howl that woke up the entire cave.

Then I ran, attacking my sleepy hatchmates indiscriminately in an attempt to sow confusion and terror. There was nothing more hostile than an enraged demonling who awoke to a scratch on his cheek.

I found myself clawing and biting, lacerating faces and scratching out eyes or aiming for other sensitive parts as I dashed by. My ploy was working and my attackers soon found themselves fighting not only me but other demonlings as well. Some had simply mistaken them for the enemy as they followed in my wake. Others simply chose to abuse a moment of weakness.

The cave was a cacophony of furious howls and pained screeches, combined with my own futile curses.

But my luck didn’t hold.

Within the blink of an eye, another of the goons was on me, followed by a second and a third one. They mauled me with their claws and teeth like a pack of wild animals.

I found myself fighting back for all I was worth, but it wasn’t enough. Simply not enough.

My arms and legs were broken and someone drew claw over my face, blinding an eye in the process. Screaming, I was forced to endure every horrible second as they eviscerated me.

In the end, I saw the large one pulling out my guts to eat them and all I could do was to lie there screaming… and die.

And then I was whole again, still screaming pitifully with my high-pitched voice, and then I realized that I was standing next to the Anima Stone!

It took one, two, and then three seconds to clap both hands over my mouth to stop myself from announcing to all the world that I was still alive. Or should I call it alive again?

Panting, I felt all over my body to check for injuries before I thought of looking within myself and found that I was back down to one soul. The weaker one was gone, which meant that I had no more safety net.

Finally, my attention returned where it should have been from the start – to my surroundings.

The Anima Stone was in front of a cave which led into the side of a rocky cliff. A violet sky without sun illuminated a wasteland of rocks and mountains without a sign life.

Eyes wide, I searched the horizon for a sign that I could survive in this unfriendly landscape. Wasn’t this the Infernal Plane of Gluttony? Shouldn’t there be more than enough to consume? Unless the demons had already eaten everything that was to eat.

My eyes involuntarily returned to the cave.

Thinking about jumping back into the pit of death?

I had no time to agonize about the other’s sarcasm, as voices from within the cave alerted me to the fact that I had just utilized a rather unconventional, one-time method to escape the hatchery. If I went back, there was likely no getting out again, so I scurried to the side, squeezing between the rock and the Anima Stone to hide.

“Okay, okay, I am going! No need to be so rude about it,” an unfamiliar voice spoke.

“I have no more time to listen to you,” the caretaker grumbled before a lean, tall demon was shoved outside the cave. His figure was vaguely humanoid but disproportioned with far too long arms and fingers. The red skin was also clinging to his bones, giving the impression that he was on the edge of starvation.

In comparison, the caretaker’s rocky flesh seemed stout and healthy with a muscular physique.

“I really don’t understand what’s so bad about a trade? All I need is one little demonling. Didn’t I offer to pay?” the unfamiliar demon kept complaining. “I promise that you will be reimbursed once I regain my power.”

“Gold, coin, and other sparkly things are of no worth to me, so get out of my sight unless you have souls to spare!” the caretaker shot back.

“I could offer to pay you one later. Currently, I am running a little low,” the other one admitted.

The caretaker only huffed. “I have to buy each demonling for two souls, and once they are educated, the warlords give me ten souls for each one, double if it turned into an imp. If you can’t match that price, then get out of my valley. If you are really in such dire need of a demonling, I suggest for you to change sexes and get yourself knocked up, harharharhar!”

“I will remember this!” The skinny demon waved his hand and ran off, following a winding trail that quickly vanished around the cliff.

“Yeah, yeah.” The caretaker waved a hand dismissively and turned to walk back into his cave. “A fallen warrior dreaming of regaining lost glory. As if I would bet on that fool actually paying me back. Ha!”

I held my breath for a few more seconds before I let it explosively out of my chest. The two had stood right next to me and hadn’t noticed me. Sometimes it was a blessing to be small enough to fit into any little crevice.

Leaving my hiding spot, I quickly ran away from the cave’s entrance, foolishly hoping for greener pastures elsewhere.