Date: July 10, 2024
Place: Japan, Hokkaido, Sapporo City, Sekiro Hotel
Time: 10:35 AM
Room No: 300
When the door cracked open, Satan entered his room and collapsed into the bed with a heavy groan. He was overcome with mental fatigue. He'd just returned from answering police questioning about the hotel explosion and the suicide of a security guard. Outside, local news reporters swarmed, broadcasting live and interviewing.
Satan had no time for the reporters after dealing with the police. Their constant requests for answers frazzled his nerves, driving him to the edge. His demon side muttered wicked wants to break their skulls against the concrete, splintering bone and brain. To rip them limb by limb, allowing crimson rivers to pour freely. To stain the streets with their blood, creating a horrific canvas of chaos and anguish. To spread misery and sorrow across the island like a horrible plague.
'I need a mental break...'
It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his demonic half under control, and the mental strain was crushing.
He had no problem murdering when required, whether it was men, women, children, the elderly, or even monsters. If the situation called for it, he could take out their lungs, rip their hearts from their chests, or crush their skulls without guilt. But he'd rather not go on an ongoing murdering rampage, especially against nobodies, unless absolutely necessary. If he engaged in needless slaughter, what distinguishes him from a local psychopath?
Even if he was simply role-playing, he needed to preserve an image—that of the Devil. He might be a fake, but it didn't stop him from striving to be the best Devil there was. After all, there was a saying: 'Fake it till you make it,' right?
He rose from the bed and stretched, feeling the weight of his tiredness in every muscle. He moved carefully to the table, each step calculated, his gaze fixed forward. He picked up the jar, filled the glass with water, and placed it on his lips. As he looked into the glass, his dim and fuzzy reflection shimmered across the surface. Slowly, almost gradually, the image sharpened, with each detail becoming more distinct.
"What the?!"
His eyes widened as his reflection appeared to curl into a mocking grin, silently laughing at him.
Satan was unsure whether it was his imagination or something wrong with the water, but he didn't like it. He smashed the glass down with all his vigour after being overcome by a powerful burst of emotion. The hit was powerful, sending glass shards flying in all directions. The table under it bent and split, the wood splintering and shattering with a loud, violent snap, leaving broken bits and jagged edges.
"Not again," he groaned, staring at the broken pieces. "I really need to learn how to control my strength."
He took a big breath, grabbed a chair, and sat. As he did, he heard an echoing voice speak his real name, "Narvi," which caused his eyes to widen.
"Who said that?!"
He peered around but didn't see anyone. Was he hearing things, or was someone present but invisible?
If so, why hadn't he noticed?
Demons of "Dark Descent" had a special sense that enabled them to detect unseen presences, but for some reason, it had not made him aware of someone invisible.
He rose from his seat, bracing himself for the spell he was about to cast. "No matter how layered and potent your invisibility is, it will no longer work, Eight Tier Magic: Dark Uncast!"
As he chanted, shadows coiled and writhed about his fingertips, like living tendrils. The air became heavier and charged with dark energy. A low hum echoed around the room, with shadows extending and surrounding it in a dim, gloomy glow. The blackness pulsed, looking for any hidden presence and exploring every crevice with almost sentient awareness. After a tense period, the dark light went out, leaving the room unchanged.
To Satan's surprise, he still saw no one.
"That spell of yours is useless, Narvi," the voice mocked. "You won't see me like this."
"Then why don't you show yourself to me if you're not afraid to face me?" Satan replied, rapidly equipping his gear and returning to his original form. "That is, if you're not afraid of my capabilities."
"I am well aware of your abilities," the voice responded. "And all you can do is nothing."
"We will see, but I have a question. Why does your voice sound like mine?"
This bothered him.
How could this mysterious voice sound just like his?
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"What, don't you like hearing your own voice?"
"That is not the question. It would be beneficial for your health and save me the effort and time if you could just answer what I seek."
"You want the answer, then why don't you come and stand near the mirror?" the voice advised.
Mirror... why did the mysterious voice want him to stand by the mirror?
Satan didn't question much and stood in front of the big oval mirror near the bed.
"I'm here. Now where are you?" Satan asked.
"Here, in the mirror."
Satan looked at his reflection in the mirror, which was waving at him.
"What the hell is this?!" Satan exclaimed, baffled by what he was seeing.
"Don't be startled, I am you, Narvi," the reflection said, pointing at him.
"Me..."
"Yes, I am what you desperately try to become," the reflection said.
"I must be under some illusion spell. There's no way this is real, my own reflection talking to me."
"Oh my, it's not an illusion. I am as real as you are," the reflection responded.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, how do I explain it? I am a part of your consciousness that has decided to talk to you," the reflection said.
"How is this even possible?"
"Don't tell me you forgot that demons of Dark Descent are made of multiple consciousnesses..."
Satan cursed. How could he forget about that?
In the game's narrative, demons were composed of numerous consciousnesses, ranging from two on average to millions upon millions, but only the most prominent one usually had control.
"I remember. Now let me ask, if you are truly a part of my consciousness, then you must know everything about me, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. Everything about you—your past life and your new, your lies and truths, your soul and mind and body, your dreams and ideals, and so much more that you might not even know about yourself."
"Perhaps that may be, but I am the dominant consciousness, so it doesn't matter even if you know me better than I do."
Hearing Satan's words, his consciousness scowled, its eyes narrowing and lips curling into a sneer. The look of disdain was unmistakable, etched deeply into every line of its face.
"You're lucky you control that body, but don't think just because I'm not the dominant one that I can't influence you to some extent."
That was true. The lore also stated that while lesser consciousnesses might not control the body, they could still create problems for the dominant one by constantly annoying them, pushing them to act rashly.
"Speaking of that aside, tell me, what made you show up now, at this very moment? Why not before, or the moment I was summoned to this world?"
"I would have, but I was observing you and the actions you take..." The consciousness's eyes narrowed, a flicker of disdain crossing them. "But it was pretty pathetic. Till now, you've done nothing noteworthy except for killing that Albedo guy, and that's pretty much it."
"What did you say?!" Satan said, placing his hand on the mirror. Cracks spidered out from where his fingers touched, lines branching out rapidly across the surface.
"Ah yes, that's what I wanted to see, your angered and annoyed face. I may not be the dominant consciousness, but that doesn't mean I can't make your life a living hell," the consciousness said, leaning his face forward.
Satan's face tightened, eyes narrowing and jaw clenching. He exhaled heavily, then said in a serious tone, "Enough of the games. Can we just get to the main point now?"
His consciousness's expression grew stern, eyes fixed intently as he said, "The main point is that I'm here to provide you assistance so you don't accidentally make a mockery of yourself, and by extension, me, since you control the body."
"And why do you think I would require your assistance?" Satan said, not wanting anyone's help, even from his own consciousness.
"Oh, you need it very much," the consciousness said, leaning back. "I'm part of you, remember? I know how excited you were when you came into this hotel in disguise, making plans to do this and that, being manipulative and so on. But all that turned out to be useless. After all, neither Albedo's case nor Maria's daughter is involved here. I can sense the frustration you've tried to hide, and your lack of creativity in inflicting true pain. All you do is gore. I could reveal more about you... but I don't think we have much time, do we?"
Satan didn't want to admit it, but what his consciousness was saying was something he couldn't deny. He exhaled slowly and said, "Fine, I'm listening. Tell me, what is the plan?"
***
Room no: 245
Time: 11:20 am
Tamamo-no-Mae and Malina sat on the floor together, each facing the other in their disguised forms.
"I've laid a barrier here, ensuring no human will enter our room. They'll overlook it entirely, regardless of their reason, granting us the privacy we need," Malina said, forming her hands into a small, hollow bowl.
"That's perfect. Now, let's begin without any further interruptions," Tamamo-no-Mae replied, mimicking Malina's hand gesture.
Both began to recite a mantra.
"Ô orasi pou mas epitrepsei na doume to orama."
A small white glowing ball appeared in the center of their hands.
"Anichtefto kai anypopsiasto, atheato kai anakoinoto"
The white orbs slowly levitated a few feet up, drifting toward each other until they were almost touching.
"Deixe mas to orama, tin alitheia, ti vrisketai kato apo tis sfragides kai tis portes, sfragides kai portes, sfragides kai portes."
The white balls merged, expanded slightly, and touched the ceiling, spreading a dim light across the room before revealing a scene.
In the darkened room, candles flickered on the walls, their red flames casting a warm, ominous glow. Blood dripped slowly from the candles, creating dark streaks that ran down the walls and pooled ominously on the floor.
A little table sat in the middle of the room. Resting on it was a little girl, around six or seven years old. The girl had long black hair that hung down her back, and her face was covered by a plain white cloth. Four Satanists surrounded the table, each holding one of the girl's limbs.
A fifth Satanist waited nearby with a knife.
The knife glinted in the low light as it moved across the girl's torso. With each cut, the knife ripped through the girl's clothing, ripping it away in slow, deliberate shreds. The fabric slipped away, exposing the little girl's bare body. As the knife sliced through the girl's limbs, blood gushed from the wounds.
The blood dripped down, and some of it splattered onto the Satanists. The edge of the knife caught the light, reflecting a dark, menacing gleam as it worked its way through the girl.
"I've always wondered what it's like to see a young girl named and amputated," the knife-wielding Satanist said, licking the blood from the knife's edge. "It's making my dick hard!"
"You're twisted," another Satanist replied. "But it would lie if I said I was not enjoying the view; young girls are also my weakness."
"Well, how about we all have our way with her? I know we are all thinking the same thing," another one added. "After all, there is no more joy in the world than raping virgin young girls."
"No... instead of it, how about some Lesbian play? Let's have a chick fuck the other raw, a girl with who is blind fucks a one with no limbs; it will be very sexy and horny to watch," the Satanist with the knife suggested. "We can have our way with them later; after all, we have a lot of you young girls here, don't we?"
Suddenly, the scene froze, and the projection vanished.
"What happened?!" Tamamo-no-Mae asked, her confusion evident.
"I don't want to see this nonsense," Malina said, releasing a deep breath. "Let's try again…"
Tamamo-no-Mae nodded in agreement, but just as they were about to continue, they suddenly halted, sensing something unusual.
"Wait... Is that?" Tamamo-no-Mae said, her voice trailing off.
"Yes, someone has stopped time," Malina said, her tone serious. "And the one who cast this time stop is coming towards us."
For a brief moment, they felt an overwhelmingly powerful presence. It was dark but not entirely so, and it was good but not completely good at the same time.
"I recognize this," Tamamo-no-Mae said, a hint of unease in her voice. "No wonder it felt familiar, but I didn't expect him to hide his power given how immense it is. But why is he here?"
"Who are you talking about?" Malina asked, her voice reflecting clear confusion.
"It's him..." Tamamo-no-Mae said, her words
hanging in the air for a moment. "Satan."
"Satan... You mean that delusional guy you met in Kabukicho? That Satan?" Malina asked, her tone reflecting surprise.
"Yes, the very same..."
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I know it may be disturbing to some due to that little girl part, but believe it or not, it is the most tame version I could think of, the original one, was far more messed up.
I only post on two sites, one Space Battles and the other on Royal Road.
Space Battles is the main one and the one where I usually post first. I tried to make this chapter according to their standard since R 18 is not allowed there; I don't know to what extent gore and depraved are allowed there.
The poll chapter will be common soon. I will make the poll in space battles since there are more viewers and readers to vote.
Things like rape, murder, and torture might happen to some characters, or worse, horrible, fucked-up stuff, depending on the polls or Maybe such stuff won't happen to them.
I will put the link in the next chapter.
Also, I have edited the missed lines in the former chapter.