Rearing Demons

A savage storm lashed the forest, the thunderclaps chasing away any semblance of peace. Rain pounded down, striking leaves with relentless fury. 

The boy lurched forward, naked and hunched, his thin limbs trembling with each unsteady step. 

Blood dripped from his ankles, where the flesh had been mangled beyond recognition—ragged wounds that bled anew with every movement. And yet, in his eyes, there was no ordinary suffering, only a feverish gleam that bordered on delirium.

"Haha… I'm free."

He repeated the phrase, almost in a sing-song manner. A maniacal grin stretched across his face, as though stitched in place, impervious to pain or cold.

"I escaped! I am free! No one's slave! No one's!"

His words faltered, but he continued staggering forward, seemingly guided by nothing but blind impulse.

The downpour seeped into his open wounds, sending jagged spears of agony up his legs, yet he pressed on with a twisted sense of triumph.

Suddenly, a faint kr kr kr cut through the drumming rain. The boy's posture stiffened, his head swiveling in a near-predatory manner. 

Another muted whimper—kr kr kr—echoed between the trees. Still grinning, he moved toward the source.

Each step was a fresh torment. The leaves raked his shredded skin, adding new streaks of blood to the forest floor. 

He shoved aside a bramble of wet foliage, revealing a tiny, grotesque creature on the ground. Its ears, excessively long and riddled with cuts, dripped crimson. A bald head bore throbbing veins that ran close to bulging, beady eyes. Its mismatched limbs were an insult to nature: thick, stubby legs beneath a bloated belly, and arms too short to be of any use. Jagged, broken teeth lined its unnaturally large mouth.

Kr Kr Kr Kr Kr!

With a pathetic shriek, the creature attempted to flee but stumbled on its malformed legs. It toppled forward, smashing its pointed nose into the mud. The boy snorted with mild curiosity, barely flinching at the sharp crack of bone.

"What are you?"

He crouched and snatched the creature by one bleeding ear. It whimpered in agony as its full weight dangled from the cartilage. 

The boy hardly seemed to notice; his grin remained, unwavering. He lifted it closer until he could see every trembling muscle in the pitiful thing's face.

"I've never seen anything like you before… You're so ugly."

All at once, a strange ping sounded in his ears. A translucent screen flickered before his eyes:

|——————————|

Name: Yur

Age: 7

 Title: Freed Slave

|——————————|

He cocked his head, confused. Then it vanished as abruptly as it appeared, revealing the dying creature once more. Its crimson skin paled at the ear, blood sliding down in thin rivulets. Black tears welled in its large eyes.

Yur placed the creature in his palm, relieving the tension on its ear. Wheezing, it tried to suck in shallow breaths.

"What are you?" he asked again, tapping its skull with a bony finger. "Are you going to hurt me?"

The hideous little thing shook its head frantically, arms flapping in a feeble attempt to push away his probing finger.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

It pointed with a wavering limb at a gnarled, ancient tree, its trunk split wide to reveal an eerie glow. An acrid stench wafted over, mingling with the damp rot of the forest. 

Without hesitation, Yur trudged toward it. He tightened his grip around the creature, oblivious to how its frantic squirms slowed as he squeezed the breath from its lungs.

When he arrived at the fissure in the trunk, he paused. The light spilling forth was unsettling, as though something inside the tree itself rotted and festered. He lifted the creature, only to find it limp in his hand.

"Hey?" he said, shaking it. No response. He jabbed it with a finger, half-expecting it to jolt awake. Still nothing.

"It's fine," he murmured, tossing it aside. "You were going to die anyway. Now you're free."

With eerie calm, he turned his attention back to the ragged opening in the trunk. He reached out curiously, only for an unseen force to latch onto his arm and yank him forward.

"I'm free!" he snarled, trying to jerk away. "No way I'm getting trapped again!"

A sudden sting made him recoil, but that moment's hesitation proved enough. The crack in the trunk pulled him in completely. The forest fell silent—only the drum of rain remained as a testament to his passing.

[Entered New Region: Zulmasharr!]

He was thrown onto a warm, stony surface. Dazed, he blinked into absolute darkness, seeing only a flicker of text hovering in the periphery of his vision: Zulmasharr. Then it vanished, leaving him blind.

"What is…this place?" he whispered, fumbling at the air. The ground was hot to the touch, a stark contrast to the cold rain he'd just left.

Before he could rise, searing pain tore at his ankles—something sharp was burrowing into the ragged wounds there.

"Agh!" he cried out, swinging wildly in the darkness.

Kr Kr Kr.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose at the familiar sound. He kicked frantically, but the agony only worsened as whatever it was gouged deeper into his shredded flesh.

Another invisible presence pressed into his mind:

[Does host wish to adjust eyes?]

"Yes!" he screamed, desperate to see.

[Beginning Process!]

All at once, molten fire seemed to pour into his eye sockets. He howled, hands flying to his face in a futile effort to stop the onslaught. Burning tears streamed down his cheeks, and his throat felt like it might tear from his screams.

"Stop! STOP!" he begged, choking on his own ragged breaths. Whatever clawed at his ankles bit deeper, compounding the hellish torment. His vision swirled behind clenched lids, but never cleared.

[Beginning Amendment!]

Then, without warning, the pain in his eyes ceased. Panting, he swayed, every nerve still buzzing with agony.

"What…was that?" he mumbled, the words slurred. His body fell back as he collapsed.

The desolate realm around him offered no mercy, only the echo of his dying screams lingering in its depths.