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Bloodbound
Prologue

Prologue

Richard was working. He had been working for the last decade at a dead end job in a local pizzeria. It never got easier. He had planned with an unfortunate surplus of hope, enticed by flowery promises of future wealth and prospects. As he slung dough behind the counter, he suddenly started to feel an unpleasant warmth. He ignored it and pushed it down, he didn't have time to think about getting sick. He had enough to worry about already, and becoming ill would not help his current predicament. He had bills to pay, bills that would not wait for him to recover. If he lost this job, that was it. The heat started to get worse, and he stopped working for a moment, bending over. A moment later, the heat surged, and it began to become painful. It felt like his blood was burning from the inside. It was unlike any disease he had ever heard of. He swore, racing over to the sink.

“Everything alright, Richard?” One of his coworkers asked. He ignored her. By this point, it felt like lava had been injected into his veins. He turned on the tap, running cold water over his hands. It did nothing. A wordless scream erupted from his mouth, and he doubled over in pain. A moment later, the heat flared, and he felt his skin tearing apart. Then he exploded, splattering the kitchen with blood. He heard a brief scream from his coworker before everything went black.

Some time later, Richard found himself standing in the midst of a boundless expanse of darkness. Before him, a placid ocean of blood stood, completely still. The crimson liquid somehow remained still without clotting, creating a vista of dimly lit scarlet. Far in the distance, there was a break in the monotony. What looked to be a man sat there, staring off into the nothingness around him. He was seated on a throne of crimson flame, flame that seemed to be liquid in nature. If anything, Richard would have described it as being made out of fiery blood. As he watched, the man turned, the throne moving with him.

“Greetings, my Chosen. I am Metricoth, master of the Sanguine Flame.” The man started to rise from his throne, and a billowing corona of flame rose around him, from the remains of the throne. Soon there was nothing left of the chair. “You have been summoned here, to hear the final wish of a dying god. Yes, I am a god. You might be unfamiliar with the existence of beings such as I. Be not afraid. I have no reason to hurt you.”

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“What?” Richard asked, his voice thinner than he would have liked. “Am I dead? All I remember is the explosion…”

“Ah… That. That was unfortunate. You see, to get you here, I needed to mark your soul with my power. Mortals have a tendency to, well, come apart at the seams when they encounter Divine power.”

The man’s voice was rich, and redolent with concentrated power. Every syllable seemed deliberate, as if it was predetermined. A roiling aura of power surrounded the man, and Richard could tell that he was suppressing it. It felt like he was standing in front of a force of nature rather than a man.

“Now, you might be wondering why I have summoned you to meet me, I have been ruling over the realm of Markovia for aeons. Although I am just a minor deity, I am under the aegis of a god far greater than I. Surtr, the Primordial God of Fire. You see, a decade ago, some disciples of mine rose up against my rule. They coveted my power for themselves. This betrayal has cast me from my throne and forced me into hiding. My power has diminished greatly and I have called you forth to serve my will . I will impart the legacy of my power unto you. Like a bloody phoenix rising from the ashes, I will be reborn, in the form of you.”

“Do I have a choice?” Richard stammered feebly.

Rather than answering, Metricoth stood up taller. He seemed to grow and grow, but his size did not increase, it was merely his presence that grew. It swelled and coiled, warping the desolate landscape around them. Richard reeled and stumbled around, his vision stretching. The last thing he could make out was the figure of Metricoth vaporizing and turning into a flowing cloud of blood. The cloud shot forward and hurtled towards him. It hit him in his chest with a tremendous force, hurling him backwards and sending Richard tumbling into the sea of blood. The last thing he saw as his vision faded into darkness was the world spinning around him.

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