Michael’s eyes unhurriedly opened; he found himself somewhere dissimilar. With blurred vision, becoming clear as the moments went by, Michael searched his surroundings high and low, spotting kitchenware hanging above and around him. 'A kitchen?' were the first words conjured within his mind.

His eyes wandered until resting on Charlie’s face, who slept peacefully beside him, just a few arm's length away. However, once his vision had fully cleared, Michael’s eyes broadened. All four of Charlie’s limbs were tied to a wooden table via a rope. It was then that Michael realized that he too shared the same fate, restrained to a wooden table, unable to move even an inch despite his efforts. Even with his Blessing activated, the rope restraining him held strong.

What the fuck… Mike, despite being within the confines of their shared consciousness, awoke. He watched Michael struggle through their shared eyes, realizing his suspicions weren't for naught.

It was a goddamn trap!

“No shit Sherlock…” Michael winced as he spoke, straining with all his might to break through the rope to no avail. “Charlie!” he called for his companion with a hushed voice, one loud enough to attempt to gain their attention, but not enough to attract the attention of whoever the hell put them there.

Upon hearing their name called, Charlie’s eyes gently opened.

Just as Michael had done moments prior, Charlie's eyes explored the room before finding Michael, seeing him struggling to break free from his confines. It was then that Charlie too attempted escape from their restraint, though they remained bound despite their best efforts.

“Michael!” they called out, wobbling the table as they continued attempting to escape.

Just then, both could hear a door swing open behind them, followed by ominous, slow steps. They could see a figure approaching from the corners of their vision. This figure giggled with a closed mouth; its voice sounding familiar yet neither could pinpoint exactly who it belonged to.

“Good morning.” said that acquainted voice. Once it was heard in full, the two recognized the voice undoubtedly.

It belonged to Ptolemy.

“My, you two sure are heavy sleepers!” The man said in jest, dancing between the two tables before his gaze locked onto Charlie. Ptolemy’s squinted slightly and the ends of his lips curled upward.

“And this one.” said their traitor, feeling Charlie’s smooth complexion with the back of his right hand. “Quite the beauty when you're asleep, I must say…”

Charlie wriggled in an attempt to rid themselves of Ptolemy’s unwanted touch, but it was to no avail.

“And you…” Ptolemy directed his attention toward Michael, searching his body from head to toe with his treacherous eyes. “You are quite the eccentric one…”

Ptolemy delicately ran his fingers from Michael’s hand to his upper arm. What interested him the most was the change in texture. The skin on Michael's hands was soft, becoming raggeder and more charred toward his shoulders. “Never have I seen a human with such…” Ptolemy’s fingers fondled the horns atop Michael’s head, dancing on the tip as he spoke. “...features. I’m quite curious to dissect you.”

“Dissect me?” Michael parroted, watching as Ptolemy approached a rack filled with knives and other utensils. Ptolemy rubbed his chin as he selected his tool of choice, selecting a cleaver, one still stained with the blood of whatever or perhaps whoever was its last victim. Ptolemy giggled as he jigged toward Michael, placing the edge of the cleaver’s blade mere inches from Michael’s throat. “Dissect, butcher...” Ptolemy exhaled playfully, setting the blade directly on Michael's skin as if he were shaving him. "Then consume, of course."

Charlie and Michael’s eyes enlarged; the two could feel a jolt of electricity zap their hearts, which then felt like they'd sunk into the depths of their bodies.

“You eat people? Are you fucking sick?” Michael asked, still wriggling in an attempt to free himself.

"You're a psychopath!" Charlie added.

Ptolemy tapped his chin with the blunt end of the knife, tilting his head curiously. “Hm?” he muttered. “You two seemed to enjoy the taste of human last night. You even asked for seconds, horned one.” Ptolemy looked directly at Michael as he spoke, gauging his expression. Michael could feel a shiver run down his spine the moment those words danced off Ptolemy's lips. Despite his food having been digested long ago, he felt like he could sense his dinner moving inside his stomach, crawling about as if the roasted meat was still alive inside him.

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Charlie, on the other hand, had already begun vomiting whatever was left of it inside of their stomach, creating a puddle on the ground beside their table.

Ptolemy laughed, placing his hand atop his belly with a smile that showed every last tooth inside his gaping mouth. “I’ll never grow tired of that countenance! The moment one realizes that they have indulged themselves in cannibalism! Tell me, how does it feel to know you've eaten your own kind!?"

Charlie nearly threw up their dinner yet again, convulsing in place in an attempt to keep it down. Michael was breathing harshly, feeling himself filled with rage. All he could think about then was breaking free and sending a fireball through the traitor's chest, killing him in an instant. However, those thoughts would be just that for the time being.

"I'll fucking kill you." Michael said through his teeth, opening and closing his hands to try and slip through the ropes.

Ptolemy's smile somehow grew, using Michael's words as fuel for his internal fire. "I bet you'd like that wouldn't you?" Ptolemy wrapped a hand around Michael's wrist, holding it in place. "However, that wish of yours will remain ungranted. Perhaps in another life, you will be able to enact vengeance on me. Though, the last few hundred men who'd made the same claim have failed to do so..."

Ptolemy raised his right arm, such that his cleaver nearly hit the ceiling. Michael, with one final effort, gave everything he had to break through the ropes tying him down. But alas, Ptolemy threw his arm downward with incredible force, and his cleaver connected with four of Michael’s fingers.

-Mike-

Due to the cleaver drawing blood, Mike took control of the body, bellowing in anguish as his fingers plopped onto the ground and his lava-like blood spewed atop them. Ptolemy’s eyes lit up, staring at Mike’s strangely colored blood before focusing on Mike’s face.

“Intriguing…” Ptolemy mumbled. “Those eyes of yours…” Ptolemy wrapped his hands around Mike’s face, investigating it as he forcefully turned his head from side to side. “What was once a stark, crimson…is now as yellow as the sun…”

Ptolemy’s eyes searched Mike’s lips next. “And that voice…it is as if you’re an entirely different person.”

“Well, aren’t you observant?” Mike told him, still trying to break free. Unbeknownst to Ptolemy, the more he teased Mike, the stronger he would become as his Blessing was constantly raising his stats.

“I see…so the prophecy isn’t just a myth…Twin souls trapped in a single body, destined to dethrone Lucifer himself…” Ptolemy commented to himself. He then giggled before looking at the wound he’d created. “Well, perhaps it was a myth after all, as the twin souls will fade by my hand.” Slowly, Ptolemy raised his cleaver-wielding arm once more. Mike, visibly panicked, pulled against the ropes, nearly pulling with enough force to rip them apart. However, steel met flesh as Ptolemy’s cleaver chopped Mike’s thumb clean off. His thumb flew toward Charlie, hitting their cheek and leaving a drop of blood on their aghast face before falling to the ground.

-Michael-

Michael let out a gutwrenching bellow as he regained control of the body, having lost all five of the fingers on his left hand.

"Stop it!" Charlie demanded, though their begging only made the process more orgasmic for Ptolemy. He laughed, reeling his entire body backward as his crazed eyes gazed at Charlie. "Don't worry! You'll be next, gorgeous! I'm saving the best for last." Ptolemy's body was trembling from the carnal pleasure of enacting such physical and mental torture. Despite having done this thousands of times, the delight never faded.

Ptolemy continued to cackle, watching as the body of the two souls squirmed in agony. Ptolemy then placed his hand on Michael's shoulder and raised his cleaver once again. "Brace yourself!" Ptolemy teased before driving his weapon down and through Michael's arm, cutting it off in one clean cut.

-Mike-

Mike screamed in pain, watching with those yellow eyes of his as his arm fell onto the ground. Charlie screamed in horror; all the mage could do was watch as their companion was being torn apart, knowing that they would be next.

Like a jester Ptolemy danced around the room with his cleaver in hand, none the wiser that the more he continued to berate and torture the yellow-eyed demon, the more powerful he would become.

Stats Mike Vitality 10 (40) Intellect 10 (40) Agility 13 (43) Luck 10 (40) Strength 13 (43)

"And next up, the right hand!" Ptolemy announced, placing his hand around Mike's right wrist this time, smiling from ear to ear. However, that smile faded once he heard the rope snap and for a split second, he could see Mike's fist flying toward his chin like a missile.

As if it’d broken the sound barrier, Mike’s fist cut through the air and struck Ptolemy's face, knocking the traitor's head clean off in one single attack.