I do not own Darksiders. And yes, I am aware that the Chosen are Abyssal Creatures rather than Demons. But in this, they are; I mean, it never made sense to me. Why would creatures of the Abyss align themselves with Hell? What do they have to gain? They can get what they want just as easily as any normal Demon Lord. On top of that, what does Hell have to gain? The creatures of the Abyss and the Second Kingdom have NO reason whatsoever to align with each other. In fact, given how notoriously untrustworthy each side is, they have more reason to go to war than anything else. And so, the Chosen are from now on to be counted as Demons. Without further ado, on with the show!
I ran my tongue along my teeth as I glared at the Cathedral, my attempts to focus on the task at hand stifled by the newly ignited flames of my oldest feud. What made the ordeal worse was that the boy knew - not nearly the entirety of the tale, but enough for him to tell that there was more to me and my brothers than what most would assume.
Blake now knew more of the history of the Nephilim than almost anyone else in Creation. And if one thing was for certain, it was that it wouldn't bode well for him when Death learned of his knowledge.
And still, the rain continued to fall, the constant patter of water colliding with stone echoing in my ears, the chill of the liquid veil somehow soothing and aggravating at the same time.
As soon as I reached the door, I raised my foot and drove it into the rotting wood and rust-pitted metal. The portal didn't simply break under the force of the blow - it outright shattered, imploding inwards with the force of a Redemption cannon, splinters of wood and shards of iron blasting inwards even as I strode forth from the rain and into the hall, Blake following close behind me. The air was surprisingly warm within the confines of the stone, the smell was that of a thick musk, like an animal that had allowed itself to be coated in a fine layer of dust; but in spite of my self control, I could not help but lash out, my fist digging into the statue of the angel that had dominated the entryway, as though to greet us. The stone cracked beneath the blow before I shifted my hand, the claws of my gauntlet digging into the rock and leaving several long, deep gouges within as I strode past towards the next room. The Watcher manifested for the first time in hours, giving a fairly disinterested look at the cracked, yet magnificent statues before turning his attention to me, "never liked going to church... let's make this a short mass and take Tiamat's heart."
I snorted as he swept himself out of my reach, striding to the next door and breaking it down with another well placed blow. Within the next chamber, which had obviously once been an immense room meant to serve as the main area of worship, its cracked ceiling rising well over fifty feet into the air, a river of lava had cracked the stone floor in two, the thick liquid roiling with heat, the stench of brimstone weaving its way into my nostrils. The stone walls were in rather good condition, considering what most of the earth had been through, and further in, angel statues sat on their knees, their wings stretched wide, their bodies cloaked, and each one gripping a hefty blade about the size of Chaoseater, a sword hewn from a crystal too bright to be a ruby, but too crimson to be anything else. Dominating the back of the room, in an alcove all of its own, a gigantic statue had been cut cleanly in two, one half still standing, the other in the grasp of an utter abomination. Flesh and rolls of fat stretched between its scales, a trio of hideous eyes surrounding its base; its jaws hung open like the petals of some grotesque flower, dripping with venomous, acidic spittle. From the gaping maw, the flesh continued to stretch into a flexible, hideous appendage that ended in a disturbing mix of a demonic hand and a maw; several long digits slightly reminiscent of spider legs twitched as they constantly shifted across their quarry. All along the edge and inside of the maw, teeth the size of small daggers jutted out painfully from the flesh, adding a stronger grip to the other half of the statue than what the beast before me already had.
"So this is the home of Tiamat?" Blake sniffed, grimacing at the smell, "cheery place."
"Well what were you expecting, brat? Santa's workshop?" the Watcher hissed.
"Nah," the boy shook his head, "given how high up this demon is in the ranks, I'd have expected at least some kind of treasure," he scratched at his chin, "it's probably just further in."
The Watcher blinked, caught off guard, and I raised an eyebrow, "you have come all the way here, fighting with everything you have just to stay alive, and you want to look through the home of one of the Chosen for riches?"
He glanced up at me, his arms crossed, "why not? Demons are generally greedy as hell, right?" he glanced throughout the room, "I'm sure that one of this rank and power is going to have treasure lying around here somewhere. It would be a nice change in our luck, and we might be able to use it to squeeze something useful out of Vulgrim the next time we see him."
I nodded slightly, smirking, "it certainly would be a nice change..."
I heard the Watcher begin to chuckle, and then break into loud laughter, "I can't believe this! We've actually found something we all agree on!" he swept in front of us both, "this will be interesting, to say the least. Let's see what we can find!"
He dissipated into shadows again, and hid himself in my gauntlet. I raised an eyebrow again as he met my gaze, a smirk plastered on his face. I didn't bother responding, rather stepping forwards into room, intent on finding a way further into the complex.
The wall of the Cathedral smashed open with resounding force, dust flooding the air as a pair of gargantuan figures crashed into the hall. Blood, feathers, scales, skin and sinew flew through the air as the dust settled, and the two creatures became clear to me. The first was battered and and dripping with blood, its armour pitted and broken from blows powerful enough to shred Blessed Steel. Fur and feathers, soaked by rivers of crimson lay matted against its form, even as it struggled to its feet and stretched its wings, its stance low as it took steps to circle its opponent, the leonine grace it once carried lost to its wounds. The muscles in the lion-like body and mighty wings tensed, and a low hiss escaped its beak as its foe took an experimental, almost playful swipe at the once-proud ortho, as though toying with it.
The demon the angelic beast faced was a far different creature - easily twice the size of the ortho, it seemed to be some unholy combination of reptile and mammal. The front of its torso seemed vaguely reminiscent of a humanoid female, but that only seemed to amplify the creature's hideousness. Its back was comprised of an endless sea of thick scales accompanied by patches of fur that stuck out on its body like mange, and was covered by knot-like growths that thickened into a stony, cliff-like surface that jutted up into the thick mass of muscle and bone that made up the creature's massive shoulders. A pair of thick, tattered wings stretched out, each one almost half again as long as its own body, with gleaming serrated claws extending from each of its digits. Its limbs were long and skinny, seemingly too lanky to support the creature that they were attached to. A gleaming set of talons extended from each of its limbs, the ones on its forelegs attached to objects that could only in the loosest sense qualify as hands - horrifically deformed hands, at that, with a single large digit accompanying several other smaller ones that seemed to serve no purpose aside from as a grizzly form of decoration. Its tail was thick, more akin to a long rope of fused sinew and bone with a stinger affixed to the tip than an actual part of a living creature.
The ortho let out a piercing shriek as it threw itself at the towering demon, smashing it straight into the wall and digging its claws in with all its might, tearing at the monstrous demon with every ounce of strength that remained in its body. Its struggle was ended as the demon retaliated, launching itself and its pray from the stone and into another wall, pinning the angelic beast against the rock before bringing its talons down across the ortho's torso, cleaving through metal, flesh and bone once again and leaving yet another wound upon its body. The ortho shrieked again before managing to catch its captor across the jaw with a lucky slash, breaking free and flying skywards, disappearing through the hole in the ceiling. The demon gave something akin to a harsh chuckle before following its quarry, talons gleaming with blood and a certain eagerness.
"... That..." I heard the boy audibly swallow, "that... that was Tiamat... wasn't it?"
I remained silent, only striding forwards into the room, my hands twitching with anticipation, the boy following close behind.
I know that this chapter is short in comparison to my other ones, but honestly, I've been on writer's block with this story for a while now, you guys deserve a chapter, and this is what I have. I have a feeling that maybe a new chapter will kick-start some ideas out of me. So I'm sorry that this is so short, and will try to make the next one longer. See ya around.