"Please sign Beneficiary/Appointee's full true name"
"Leo Laxid Davis"
"Provide sacrificial regents and/for desired power"
"Blood of a virgin {Leo Laxid Davis}, Flesh of a saint {Bernard the first}, 88 Bars of black {Desecrated} gold, Demonic Summons {Bound in human leather}, Desecrated helm of Crusader Benedict. For Dungeon Lord Leo Laxid Davis."
"Sacrifice Accepted, Power granted to Appointee. Prepare yourself for demonic incursion."
As soon as the words are inked in scarlet red blood, a dark smoke rises from the scroll. It's cracked and aged surface simply igniting and flowing into the air as ash and ember. Joining the ominous cloud of inky vapor.
As the cloud races down Leo's throat his blood boils over, extending his veins grotesquely and erupting in some places as a red steamy cloud.
He can barely feel it as the slightly jagged floor cuts into his knees. Drawing no blood. The small cave mined out over a decade erupts with his screams. It's ragged and dark stone cloning his one voice into several. All bouncing back into his own ears.
His very being contorts, not in any dimensional directions, but across the magical plain. Forever transforming him into a immortal being. Only vaguely tied to his vessel by lingering sentiments.
Indeed as soon as his being is magically canvased he ceases to feel any sort of pain. The world moving into a colder perspective.
Even so his body still continues changing.
Under his own curious and ghostly gaze his remaining blood drips from open veins, as if from fatal cuts. But before they can puddle on the craqqly and uneven stone floor they conform into a living nightmare. A dark shadow behind him, barely illuminated by the few flickering torch's.
This is the form Leo uses to watch the process, a shadow being for the rest of eternity. Although Leo can't feel any regret for what he's done.
In fact nothing but excitement greets him.
He craves to know what power his reagents gave him.
"Desire granted/Within protocol
Appointed Power; Dungeon Lord Set {Contracte: Agox}
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
-Shadow Self (Remains unperturbed by mortal wounds and death.)
-Demonik spirit request (Appointee as long as remains in good standing with contracte can post request for spiritual transference via agox's blood annuals.)
-Sculpting (Capable of manipulating mortal flesh and willing spirits.)"
Leo reaches out with his second set of hands, experimenting with his own body. Pinching his bleeding wounds closed.
Although it stops the bleeding, wafting smoke erupts out of his flesh eyes. Obscuring them, although they weren't very useful in the first place. The light incredibly low within the confines of the cave.
Satisfied and not having much use for his own mortal remains Leo directs part of himself to lay on the pitiful wooden bed, one he knew every bump and splinter of. Having lied on it over the many years after his banishment.
Now with his undivided attention Leo's shadow form exits his chambers. Slipping from underneath the floor. Entering into the tiny hall, often he scraped his head here, now that's no longer a worry. Both because his actual form is 4th dimensional and because his flesh no longer FEELS pain.
He takes a banking left turn. Moving from the floor to the wall and then to a new room's ceiling. Although this vantage point is not helpful to him in anyway he still likes crawling across somewhere he has no business being.
He surveys the room's occupants in their bamboo cages. Chickens. He'd been breeding them for half a decade. Carefully selecting the plumpest roosters and hens to raise new chicks. Eating and killing the older or smaller ones.
He'd learned this process in the monastery he was raised, although there it was forbidden to kill or eat flesh of any kind.
No they'd taught all youths this process via grass. Where they'd sowed grasses and choose the plumpest easiest to harvest seeds. Even with beans and varieties of the native fauna.
Before the warmth in his heart has a chance to sour he turns his attention to the caged animals again.
They bay from his new demonic presence. Clustering in the corners of their cages and jumping atop each others backs in hopes of escaping.
Not that Leo plans to kill very many of them, only a few for his first experiments with sculpting.
He reaches out with his ghastly shadow hand. And achieves nothing, simply passing through one of the birds white plumage.
"Even as weak as they are their spirits must still count." What comes out when talks is nothing short of terrifying to the birds. Causing them to huddle into their corners even more fervidly. Refusing to make the previous squawking in what Leo knows is fear.
Actually that thought makes him realize he just read one of their tiny minds, he reaches out and touches one of the roosters ("Bad Run Get AWAY From") and hears it in his mind. With his own internal voice reading it's thoughts.
"Curious" and with that thought his shadow hand relaxes back to the ceiling having extended down like a snake made of burning smoke.
His flesh legs swing over the rough bamboo mattress and one after the other stomp their way over to the animal pens. His scalp scraping across the ceiling, but he barely notices. The pain a now distant and fleeting signal.
His white and delicate hands wrap around one of the birds through the cage as he rejoins his body as a simple shadow underneath it.
With that he regains more sensation. The feel of the birds feathers under his hands. The heat of it's body.
All sensations he had missed from himself when he was more focused elsewhere as something else.
Not wanting the bird to suffer more than needed he quickly wraps his hand around it's neck, putting it's clawed feet below his own dirty feet. And gives it's neck a sharp pull.
He quietly holds it's flapping body close. Not letting it get away in it's death throes. Although he really doesn't need to do such a thing. The bird is already dead, the moment it's neck gave way it was taken to the ether.
But he does it anyway.