“WELL HELLO TO YOU TOO, YOUNG LADY,” rumbled the giant called Charon, “AND WHAT DO I OWE THE PLEASURE FOR THIS VISIT FROM YOU?”

“Cut the shit, Charon,” growled Azazel as she danced around his eyes, preventing him from moving forward with clarity, “Where. Is. My. Demon. Lord?!”

“LANGUAGE, YOUNG LADY, AND YOU SHOULD KNOW SHE IS-”

“Not that one,” she seethed, not desiring to be reminded of what happened, “The other one. He recently received the Vampire Lord title, and his body disintegrated when you snatched up his soul.”

“OH, THAT ONE. VERY POLITE, THAT ONE, DESPITE BEING AN UNDEAD,” a pair of bright, crimson orbs flared into existence underneath the hood as it slowly turned towards the left and pointed towards the shadows. Whereupon a string of orbs, each depicting some sort of hell for those trapped within slowly orbited into view.

However, there was one which stood out amongst them all. For in the centre was a white Void Sphere depicting a sea of grass with a large hill in the centre. Cresting atop the hill was an oak tree of such grandeur and magnitude that it appeared as though it would soon break free and sprout within the River Styx. Of which was not possible due to the dead energies being present, but the image was still there.

In any case, Azazel quickly flew over to this sphere, and glanced at Charon who was watching her intently. For although Gods and Goddesses were allowed to take souls and essences out of the land which he controlled, there were always stipulations which must be followed. Regardless, she desired her Demon King and Vampire Lord to further her plans of revenge against she who allowed the slaughter of her chosen race. Whereupon she pushed herself into the sphere before her, and immediately found herself hovering above the sea of grass. After which, Azazel pushed herself forward towards the tree, where her eyes fell upon the image of a man sleeping against and within the Oak tree.

“Karastak!” her voice howled with a twinge of relief, “Wake up! You still have to see Brutus, remember?”

*

Karastak floated beneath the bark of the Oak tree, and dreamed of nothingness. For his sleep was to last for an age, and as such was not allowed to drift anywhere that might have been construed as a different world. Therefore, he would just dream of himself being in the centre of a pool of water, floating gently in its centre.

That is, until something crashed into his desire to just sleep. Whereupon he stood up upon the surface of the pool, desiring to know who it was that dared to wake him from his slumber, whilst the pool lazily wrapped around his body. These then tried to pull him back into the waters, for which he allowed them to do so. However, the moment his waist was enveloped within, the world around him rocked greatly. Whereas high above him, the darkness which kept him asleep cracked and allowed light to filter through.

He who was promised to sleep for an age was enraged by this action. 'Why must others seek my release when I chose to sleep?' his mind growled as the world continued to crack and shatter around his ear, 'Very well, if these fools wish to awaken me, then let them awaken ALL of me.' Whereupon the pool surged and enveloped his ethereal body, forming something far beyond the word of “Demonic”, and into something more sinister.

*

Outside, however, the world around the tree darkened as Azazel had begun to tear apart the bark of the tree with her energies. Of which was proven tough, as something was doing its best to keep the tree whole. For although she was considered as a Goddess outside this small Void Space, she was not its master. Therefore, she could only perform so much before its true master took control.

In the beginning, and after shouting her words, she used her energies to tear away the bark of the tree around the man's face, revealing a gaunt apparition devoid of any markings which one could use to figure out which race or sex the being was. Instead, it was just plain, with its skin pulled tight over the skull, and the eyes were missing in their entirety. What is more, after such a reveal, Azazel reeled back in surprise, but quickly renewed her desire to take he who was to be her Demon Lord.

As such, she failed to note the clouds which had gathered high above, nor the red tinge of colour which permeated the surroundings. All that was upon her mind, as it tunneled fully upon the man within the tree, was, 'Come on Karastak, I still need you.'

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

However, after pulling away the bark to reveal the man's bare chest, did she note the world around her. For a droplet of water had splashed her cheeks, but when she tried to wipe it away with the belief that it was her own tears, her eyes spared it a slight glance. Whereupon she performed a double take, and found the water was not water, but, “Blood? What?”

All around her, the Void Space was raining blood, and was quickly filling the plains with its coppery stench. Unsure of what was occurring, Azazel moved her energies around her body in order to shield her further from everything. Here, she failed to note that the man within the tree had begun to glow a faint crimson. Which was understandable, as the glow was the same colour as the rain itself. However, she was quickly drawn to it when a black bolt of lightning lanced out from the endarkened skies above, and struck the the Oak tree where he had laid himself down to rest.

“No!” she cried out, and tried to move to protect her vengeance, but was flung back as a force erupted from the tree, sending splinters and blood away from the hill in which it had sat upon. Whereupon the area around it swirled with endarkened shadows made up of smoke, wrath, and scorn.

With her eyes glued upon the event, they popped as something was making an appearance within the void space. One that she even dared to call it a demonic force within her mental self, but soon found that title to be shoved away as the energies slowly dissipated to reveal a great and domineering monster.

The lower body of this thing was that of a serpent's, and if one were to take a closer look, they would find that the scales had a pattern of leaves of every size and shape upon them, whilst the colour was of a vibrant green. The body swirled around the hill of the Void Space three times before the rest of its was revealed. Even then, Azazel felt as though she were nothing more than an ant staring upon the lower body of a God.

When she looked up past this body, she was graced with the sight of a furred torso which reminded her of a Foxman's, as it gave off the appearance of being fluffy, whilst hiding the hard muscles underneath. What is more, the colour of the scales faded perfectly from their vibrant green, to a darker shade, and quickly became as dark as pitch when it met the fur whilst fusing the two portions into one. Not only this, but four muscular and equally furred arms which appeared along both of his sides. All of which ended in flour clawed digits which were able to retract at will.

Upon its back came eight beautifully wicked wings made up of endarkened feathered shadows that stretched far beyond the sight of Azazel. Whereupon she witnessed, after they came into being, the lower six draped themselves upon the creature's body in some way. The upper pair, on the other hand, kept themselves extended for a longer period of time. Only when the head of the creature was formed completely did they rest upon its back.

The head was that of a great beast called a Dragon. However, this head belonged to one which gnawed upon the roots of the World Tree in some mythologies. Its name, by the by, was the Nidhogg, which was given to a beast which governs dark criminals whilst bent on disrupting and destroying everything which stands for peace and virtue. Although this creature had such a head, with bright coloured scales of green and a pair of horns erupting from the top, it is doubtful that such a being held such thoughts at this point in time.

Regardless, once everything was revealed, this unnatural behemoth of a chimera breathed in a great breath, then released a noise which coupled a higher pitched scream with a Dragon's roar. Of which caused even she who desired Karastak to awaken to cup her hands over her ears in order to dampen the energy and sounds released. Unfortunately for herself, a little blood escaped her ears, nose, and the corner of her eyes, but she paid little heed to something which should not be possible.

For the creature then stared about its person, desiring to know, “WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLUMBER?”

Azazel, on the other hand, was slack jawed and dumbfounded by everything she saw. Not only the world becoming full of some unknown creature's blood, but of the monster that erupted from the tree she believed housed the sleeping Karastak. Therefore, this creature must be him, yes? If that was so, then her vengeance would be complete within a few heartbeats. However, asking this of something which gave off the appearance of being much stronger than herself, and of many others she had come in contact with, would prove to be a daunting task. For all it had to say was, “No,” and she could do nothing more than sulk until someone else trekked across her vision.

Unfortunately for herself, all thoughts vanished immediately. For the draconic head appeared in front of her body, where it turned to stare at herself with an orb of crimson light. One that felt as though it were probing her entirety, until it reared back with a great huff. Whereupon she felt, rather than heard, it speak, “Oh. It's you.”

After such a statement, the whole of the Void Space blinked once, blinding her eyes for, but a moment. To which it then revealed a sea of grass with the hill and Oak tree in its centre. Sitting next to it was Karastak in an orange Gi with some sort of symbol upon the back and a red sash around his waist. Not only this, but his body was tanned, almost brown, and exuded an aura of a tired warrior which was mirrored by his snow-white hair that flowed around his shoulders, along with a beard that ticked his chest. The eyes, however, were much different than the ones she remembered from her Karastak. Where once were a pair of dark pinpricks in an ocean of white, were now replaced by a pair of vibrant, yet tired, orbs of sapphire which exuded boredom and the desire to sleep.

“Well?” called out the voice of one who had lived for far too long, “What do you want, Azazel? Can't you see I was enjoying my reward for living?”

“Wh-wh-wh,” she began, unsure of what just happened. One minute there was a monster with incredible strength before her, and now there was an old man. To say that she was confused would be an understatement.

“I know you can form words, Azazel,” the old man sighed with great patience, “Think about them slowly before you continue, okay?”

She, on the other hand, felt as though the one before her was more of a teacher of some sort than her own plaything. For which she was beginning to feel a twinge of regret for doing so against this being before her, as she continued to hover in her position nearby. Whereupon she finally mustered up the words to inquire, but in a small voice, “What exactly are you, Karastak?”