Kerrigan was groggy when she awoke. As her vision sharpened, she knew something wasn't just wrong — it was impossible. Her vision was sharper, her surroundings painted in colours she couldn’t name but somehow understood. She also felt...much, much taller. Her center of gravity was off too. There was a new weight to her back. Something heavy and alive dragged against the ground behind her.
She twisted, and her breath caught. She had a tail! It was long, black, scaly, and tapered to a menacing foot long, bone spike. It moved erratically, whipping through the air as though it had a mind of its own. It clipped the top of her head in an odd way, not quite hitting her head but something sticking out if it. She reached up and felt two little horns sticking out of the top of her head.
“What the fuck?” she asked aloud, ducking as the tail lashed over her head once again. She reached to grab it but froze. Her hands—what was with her hands. Where her neatly trimmed, salon-perfect nails had been were now inch-long thick talons, black and gleaming like obsidian. She shook her hands vigorously, as she could fling them off. Of course, they stayed firmly attached. It was then she noticed she wore not a stitch of clothing.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!” she screamed, inspecting the rest of her. Same feat, though she had somehow regrown her left pinkie toe. The though which reminded her, yet again, never to mix Bundy Rum and chopping firewood.
She still had same waist length, strawberry blond hair. The same, boarding on translucent, pale skin only a ‘ranger’ like her could rock. The same lanky, athletic body, fit enough that she always passed her yearly fitness assessment without too much effort, but not much past that. Her stomach twisted. This wasn’t her body, but in a way, it was. It was something more now; something monstrous.
Kerrigan forced herself to look around, hoping for some clue to make sense of this insanity. The landscape was alien. Twisted, jagged trees scattered around stretched toward a shimmering sky, their branches gnarled like skeletal fingers. The trees seemed to sway subtly, though there was no wind. Above her, two moons hung in stark contrast: one bright and silvery, the other smaller, casting an eerie green glow.
It was horrifying. It was beautiful.
"Think, Kerrigan," she whispered, her voice echoing faintly in the unnatural quiet. She crouched, careful of her tail, and ran her taloned fingers through the dirt. It was warm, loamy, and tinged with a faint, smoky aroma. The sensation of the talons leaving furrows in the dirt was unsettlingly.
She straightened, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt. She crossed her arms over her chest, scanning her surroundings for anything that might pass for cover—or clothing. Her gaze settled on a shadowy outcrop of rocks in the distance. With no better options, she started toward it, her steps unsteady.
Walking was an adjustment. Her legs felt powerful, her strides longer than what she was used to, and her tail dragged behind her like an unwieldy anchor. She cursed under her breath as it snagged on a jagged root, sending her sprawling face-first into the dirt.
"Ugh, for fuck's sake!" she growled, pushing herself up and glaring at the offending appendage. The tail twitched, almost as if it was mocking her.
By the time she reached the outcrop, her muscles burned with exertion. Kerrigan crouched in the shadow of the rocks, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her vision scanned a denser tree line not far from the outcrop, that looked to be a forest of sorts. She wasn’t not going into any creepy woods. For all she knows there could be wolves in there…or a good old murder cabin made of gingerbread: or built from bones of victims of ritual sacrifice. She wasn’t stupid. She watched horror movies. It was giving off that kind of vibe.
"I have to figure out what happened," she muttered, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. The motion brought her hand into view again, her talons gleaming ominously in the light of the twin moons.
A low growl rumbled nearby, snapping her attention to the dense shadows of the forest beyond the outcrop. Her senses sharpened instantly. The growl came again, deeper this time, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of something heavy shifting through the forest underbrush.
Kerrigan froze, her heart pounding.
“This has to be a dream,” she muttered, her voice trembling. The thought brought a flicker of hope. People in movies always pinched themselves to wake up, right? She pinched her arm - forgetting the talons.
Pain seared through her as she gasped, yanking her hand back. A deep gash marred her arm, oozing...black. Not red. Black as pitch.
“Motherfucker,” she hissed, clutching her arm. The sight of the inky fluid made her stomach churn. She stumbled back, her tail scraping against the ground with a hiss like dry leaves.
“SCREEEEEEEE!”
The sound ripped through the air, sharp and grating like nails on glass. Kerrigan spun toward the noise, her heart hammering in her chest.
A figure was barrelling toward her—a thing. No, a demon.
It was humanoid, but grotesquely so. Its skin was an ashen grey, stretched tight over sharp bones that jutted out unnaturally, emaciated. Its eyes blazed like twin embers, and its mouth was a jagged, gaping maw, lined with teeth that didn’t fit—too many, too sharp. Spindly arms ended in claws that scraped against the ground as it charged.
“What the—” Kerrigan barely got the words out before the creature slammed into her.
The impact knocked her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, her tail digging painfully into her back as the weight of the creature pinned her down. She gasped, struggling to process what was happening.
Then its fist came down.
CRACK!
Pain burst across her jaw as her head snapped to the side. Her cheek scraped against the gritty, alien dirt. Something warm dripped from her mouth, and she coughed—dark, viscous blood spattered the ground beneath her.
Its blood is also black! The sight should have sent her into a spiral of terror, but she had no time to think. The creature let out a guttural snarl, its rancid breath washing over her face as it reared back for another punch.
“Oh, the fuck you don’t!” Kerrigan snarled, her voice raw and guttural.
The creature lunged at her, claws outstretched, its jagged teeth gnashing inches from her face. Without thinking, she caught it by the throat with one hand, muscles she didn’t even know she had straining against its thrashing body.
Its claws raked against her arm, tearing through her skin, but she didn’t let go. The pain barely registered — adrenaline had taken over. With a roar, she brought her free hand up, talons gleaming like obsidian.
She drove them into its neck.
The creature’s eyes widened, its scream turning into a gurgling choke as black ichor spilled from the wound. Kerrigan didn’t stop there. She twisted her claws deeper, feeling the sickening crunch of cartilage and bone giving way under her grip.
The demon thrashed violently, its claws flailing against her arms and shoulders, but its strength was fading. Kerrigan held firm; her teeth bared in a snarl she barely recognized as her own.
Finally, with one last wet gasp, the creature went limp.
She shoved its body off her, panting heavily, her chest heaving as she stared at the lifeless form. Black blood dripped from her talons and splattered the ground beneath her. The metallic tang of it filled the air, mixing with the acrid stench of the creature’s body.
Her hands were trembling — not from fear, but from something else. Something primal. Something powerful.
"Not a dream," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "Definitely not a dream."
She flexed her fingers, watching the black blood slide off her claws. A shiver ran through her as she realized how natural it had felt — how good it had felt, to fight back. To win.
But there was no time to process the rush. She could hear it now, faint but growing louder: more screams, more things in the distance.
“Shit,” Kerrigan muttered, wiping her hands on her tattered clothes and rising to her feet. Her tail swished behind her, steady now, as though it too was ready for whatever came next. She didn’t know where she was or what had happened to her, but one thing was certain: she wasn’t done fighting.
The sound came first — a cacophony of shrill, raucous screams that tore through the air like nails on steel. Kerrigan’s head snapped up, and her breath hitched as figures emerged from the shadows of the murder woods. Ten demons, each more grotesque than the one she’d just killed, their glowing eyes fixed on her like predators locking onto prey.
They surged from the twisted forest like a wave of nightmares, their bodies contorted and monstrous. Eyes burned with fiery malice, and their claws gleamed wickedly in the moonlight. Their unholy cries melded into a horrifying symphony of bloodlust, a choir of bloody murder that sent a primal jolt of fear through Kerrigan’s core.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but to where? The alien landscape offered no refuge, no haven. Just endless, twisted trees and jagged rock formations. Her legs tensed, ready to bolt. Every instinct screamed for her to get out of there, to put as much distance as possible between her and the oncoming horde. But something stopped her.
It wasn’t just fear — it was the rush. The echo of her claws sinking into flesh, the exhilaration of victory. She had defeated one of them, felt their power crumble beneath her hands. And now, a fire ignited in her chest.
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The demons sprinted closer, their shrieks intensifying, but Kerrigan didn’t run, her breathing quickened, but not in panic. Her claws flexed, her tail lashed the air like a whip, and the fire in her chest built until she couldn’t help but throw head back and let it escape. She screamed. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t even close.
The sound that tore from her throat was primal, otherworldly — a deafening roar that shook the air like thunder. It was the cry of a predator, a demonic lion’s roar that echoed across the landscape and silenced the forest.
Some demons hesitated, their charge faltering for just a heartbeat as a ripple of uncertainty passed through the horde.
Kerrigan felt it — that moment of doubt — and her grin was savage. “Yeah,” she snarled, her voice low and dangerous. “I’m not going down without a fight. You want some?" she growled, her voice low and feral. "Come get it."
With a feral burst of energy, she lunged forward, meeting the demons head-on. The first demon reached her, its claws swiping toward her face. She ducked, her movements faster than she expected, and retaliated with an upward slash of her own. Her talons connected with its chest, tearing through the leathery flesh with ease.
Black ichor sprayed as the demon staggered back, but there was no time to celebrate. Another leaped at her from the side, jaws snapping. Kerrigan twisted, her tail whipping around instinctively. The bone spike slammed into the creature’s midsection, impaling it with a sickening crunch. The creature screeched, writhing on her tail, but she didn’t stop. She spun, using its weight to knock another demon off its feet before wrenching her tail free.
One after another, they came at her. Kerrigan’s movements were a blur—ducking, slashing, spinning, kicking. For every demon she took down, two more seemed to take its place. Her muscles burned, her lungs heaved, and her body was slick with a mix of black blood and sweat. Her tail whipped out, striking another in the face and shattering its jaw with a sickening crunch. They swarmed her, claws and teeth slashing, but she was faster, stronger. She ducked, spun, and struck with utter savagery. Another went down, having punched two of her talons though its eyes. It fell to the ground, so she stomped on its head, which split apart like a crushed melon.
A swipe caught her across the back, claws raking through her pale skin. She cried out, stumbling forward as pain lanced through her. Another demon lunged, its claws grazing her shoulder. She twisted away, slamming her fist into its face, but her strength was flagging. I will not – Give – Up! She vowed to herself and pushed herself onwards.
Kerrigan fought like a whirlwind, her movements wild and unrelenting. Blood — hers and theirs—splattered the ground in dark pools, but she didn’t stop. With each kill, she felt the intoxicating rush of power seeping into her being, as though the life force of her enemies fed her very soul. Her wounds ached less, her strikes grew sharper, faster, more precise. A deep, primal instinct whispered to her, guiding her movements in a rhythm that felt both foreign and familiar, as though she had always been a predator—she had just forgotten until now.
What felt like an eternity of battle was over in moments. Kerrigan stood amidst the carnage, her chest heaving, ichor dripping from her claws and tail. The acrid stench of blood and death choked the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of her own sweat. Her heart still pounded, each beat echoing in her ears like a war drum. She looked down at the ruined bodies around her — twisted forms torn apart, black lifeblood pooling in the dirt.
A tremor ran through her hands. Not from exhaustion, but from something deeper. She felt it still — that primal, electric rush. Her lips curled back, exposing teeth she hadn’t noticed had grown sharper, more animalistic.
"What... what am I doing?" she whispered, voice cracking. The exultation of victory soured in her gut, replaced by nausea. She stumbled back, her tail dragging behind her, its heavy weight suddenly unbearable.
She turned her gaze skyward, searching the alien sky for answers. The two moons stared back, the one casting its silver light, the other staining the ground with its eerie green glow. They felt like silent witnesses to her monstrous transformation.
Her knees buckled, and she dropped into a crouch, clutching her head as if she could block out the images of her own ferocity. "This isn’t me," she muttered, shaking her head. "This isn’t me...”
A slow, deliberate clap cut through the silence.
CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.
Kerrigan spun, claws raised and tail unconsciously poised to strike. A new figure stood a few meters away—a man, or something that looked like one. His grin stretched unnaturally wide, eyes shimmering like shards of broken glass reflecting the twin moons fae glow. He was dressed absurdly, a putrid green tweed suit complete with golden cufflinks, his hands lazily coming together in applause.
“Wonderful,” he said, his voice thick with an accent Kerrigan couldn’t place. “Magnificent. Oh, ye’ll do nicely indeed.”
He tilted his head, ogling her in a way that made her skin crawl. His gaze lingered on her tail, her claws, her still-bloodied, naked form.
Kerrigan tensed, the hackles on her neck rising. "Who the hell are you?" she snarled, the feral edge in her voice surprising even herself. She wasn’t sure if it was her anger or whatever she had become, but she felt a growl vibrating deep in her chest.
The man’s grin widened unnaturally, as though his face couldn’t quite contain his glee. “Oh, my dear,” he purred, his voice dripping with amusement, “names are for mortals clinging to their fragile sense of identity. You, my sweet, are far beyond such trivialities now. But I will ask you this: What will you do with the power coursing through your veins? Will you ascend, or will you perish as so many have before you?” His words dripped with mockery, but his eyes burned with dangerous curiosity, as though he truly didn’t know the answer—and couldn’t wait to find out.
“Where am I” she demanded of the stranger. “What is going on! Did you do this to me? Turn me into this…this thing?”
“You’re in the realm of *Illegible growling sound*, lass,” the man said, his words lilting with a musical rhythm that clashed with the sinister gleam in his eyes. “Though your language would call it the realm of The Dark Legion, if you must have a name for it. The realm of demons. And you...you’re one of us now."
Kerrigan’s jaw clenched. "You’re lying. This is just a hallucination. It has to be." She pleaded without much conviction.
He tilted his head, a mock expression of pity on his face. "Dreams don’t spill blood, Kerrigan. And you—" He gestured to the carnage around them. "—you’ve spilled quite a lot for one so newly reborn. Oh, the potential I see in you. It’s thrilling, really."
Her stomach churned as she followed his gaze to the corpses littering the ground. She had done that. Torn them apart, felt the life leave their bodies as her claws sank into flesh. And worse—she’d enjoyed it. The power, the rush, the sheer dominance.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "This isn’t me."
The man grinned wider, his teeth unnervingly sharp. "Oh, but it is. This is the real you, my dear. Stripped of your mortal shell, free of moralities dull constraints. Tell me now, do they still teach Darwinism where you’re from?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Kerrigan snapped, though her voice wavered. She shifted uneasily, her tail brushing the ground behind her in nervous arcs.
“Evolution!” the man stated with a flourish, the corners of his too-wide grin curling up like a cat’s. “The way life changes, adapts, claws its way forward. It’s not about the toughest, mind — no, no. It’s about who learns to bend, to shift, to become.”
Kerrigan let out a short, sharp laugh. “Huh? You’re saying I’ve evolved into this? This thing?” She gestured wildly at herself, black ichor still clinging to her claws.
“More or less,” he said with a shrug, brushing an invisible speck off his green tweed jacket. “Though I wouldn’t call it ‘evolved,’ per se. Your situation, lass, is a wee bit more complicated. See, your soul was sold - Fair and square. Contract legal” he seemed a bit defensive on that last bit.
Her stomach dropped. “Sold? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ah, well, it wasn’t you who made the bargain,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “Your da did the deal, long before you were even born.”
Kerrigan’s heart stopped. Her breath hitched, and she stared at the man—thing—in disbelief. “My dad?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Aye, lass,” the man replied, casually adjusting his golden cufflinks. “A desperate man with a desperate need. You see, the price for his little…bargain was steep. Cost him more than he’d expected, I wager. But bargains struck with the Dark Legion always come due. And here you are.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head violently. “No, that’s impossible. My dad wouldn’t… He wouldn’t do this to me!”
“Wouldn’t he?” the man said, his grin never wavering. “Desperation makes fools of us all, lass. And your da was no exception. Do you even know what he wanted so badly? What he thought was worth trading away the soul of his unborn child?”
She clenched her fists, her claws digging into her palms hard enough to draw more of that black ichor. “He was just a normal guy! He worked at a hardware store, for fucks sake. He wasn’t—”
“Aye, aye, normal as you like,” the man interrupted, rolling his eyes theatrically. “But normal men have dreams too, don’t they? Dreams, fears, debts, sickness, loves lost. It doesn’t matter what he asked for, lass. What matters is that you’re the payment.”
Kerrigan felt like the ground was falling away beneath her. Her dad had always been a quiet, steady presence in her life. Reliable. Unremarkable. The thought of him making some kind of demonic pact was absurd.
And yet, here she was.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked, her voice cracking. “How do I…how do I fix this?”
The man’s grin stretched impossibly wider, a predatory glint in his glassy eyes. “Fix it? Oh, lass, there’s no fixing this. You’re in the Dark Legion now, and there’s only one rule here: survive.”
Kerrigan felt the weight of his words settle on her like a crushing boulder. Survive. That’s all she could do.
“But!” the man said, his voice suddenly chipper. “You’ve got a leg up, don’t you? That was some fine work back there.” He gestured to the pile of demon corpses. “You’ve got a fire in you, lass. A hunger. I’d wager you’ll go far, if you don’t get yourself killed first.”
She glared at him, her tail flicking behind her with agitation. “Why are you telling me all this? What do you want from me?”
“Want? Me?” He placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. “I’m just here to watch, my dear. A humble observer. But let me give you a piece of advice, free of charge.”
Kerrigan folded her arms, her claws tapping against her skin. “I’m listening.”
The man leaned in, his grin dropping slightly, his voice low and conspiratorial. “The Legion respects strength, lass. And strength isn’t just power—it’s cunning. Strategy. Learn the rules of the game and then break them. Climb the ladder. Take what you want. Because here?” He gestured to the alien landscape around them. “The only way out…is up.”
“And if I don’t play your game?” she growled, her voice low and dangerous.
He chuckled, a dark, knowing sound that seemed to echo through the air around them. “Ah, Claire Kerrigan, I wouldn’t go testing that. This world’s not kind to freeloaders, and the Legion’s even less so. You’ll end up like the rest of ‘em” pointing to the mangled remains around her. “Rabid. Forgotten. Cast out, a mindless creature fighting for scraps. But I doubt that’s your style, eh?” His grin widened, the flicker of malice dancing in his eyes.
Kerrigan’s claws twitched, her tail still lashing behind her, though she kept her gaze locked on him, unwavering. She didn’t trust him, didn’t trust a word he said, but something deep within her—the hunger, the need for strength—keep her intrigued. The darkness inside her stirred, restless and eager for what he promised, even if she knew it came with a price.
“What’s the catch?” she demanded, her voice laced with suspicion. “There’s always a catch.”
“Of course, lass,” he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, though the amusement never quite left his expression. “In this world, nothing comes for free. You’ll fight, kill, and consume to rise. Souls are the coin here, and trust me, they’re worth more than you can imagine. But even in the Dark Legion, power has its price. The question is—are you ready to pay it?”
She didn’t know if she was ready, but she knew one thing for sure—she wasn’t about to let herself be cast aside as nothing more than a mindless beast. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” she growled. “But if you think for one second that I’m going to follow you blindly, you’re dead wrong.”
He smirked, his eyes narrowing with interest. “Aye, lass. But you’re clever, aren’t you? You’ll find your own way.” More screams pierced the night in the distance. “We’ll seeming as you’re about to have more company, I’ll be suggesting you run towards the Stronghold quick smart…And I’ll leave you with a parting gift. This you’ll be needing…The Gift of the Gab” he clicked his fingers. Innumerable words rushed into her mind in a flash, like needles digging into to her brain. It was excruciating. He then he pointed behind her, “Strongholds that way. I wouldn’t waste any time about it”.
She looked at the direction he pointed at briefly and when she turned back, he had disappeared.
“Motherfucker” she cursed and begin legging it in the direction he had pointed.