The Star Of Depravity - Chapter 8

Ervin vomited the water he consumed. He gasped and tried his best to break his body away from its hold. He blinked a few times to clear his clouded vision.

When he was able to see clearly again, he saw a creature with dark bull horns curled on the sides of its head, staring at him with amusement shining in its deep-set, ruby-red eyes. Although it looked like a man with ashen-colored skin and long, silky black hair, the claws that dug on Ervin’s scalp told him otherwise. A black toga draped around its waist down to its ankle while its upper body was exposed and blended into the darkness. His thick vines were swirling, purple lines that almost appeared black as it covered its well-defined arms as it tightened its grip on Ervin’s hair.

Its mouth curled into a smile, its square teeth bright as pearls, “Dying again, Ervin?” it effortlessly lifted him a foot away from the ground.

The rain stopped.

Ervin’s eyes widened—that voice—he knew it well enough when his head throbbed in recognition.

The creature looked satisfied at the discernment on Ervin’s face. “I thought I told you to touch the obelisk?”

Ervin balled his remaining fist. He kept his mouth in a thin line.

“I wouldn’t have used such methods if you’d only been obedient like the rest of the vessels,” said the creature, the malice crossing its bloody irises, its slanting pupils thinning even more.

Ervin deliberately ignored him. He didn’t want to use the remaining energy he had left to converse with the devil.

“Not chatty, are you?” the creature shook its head, its silky hair moving like draped curtains.

“Oh, well,” it feigned disappointment. “Too bad, you’ve already touched the obelisk.”

In a flash, it brought its face close to Ervin’s, “Do you know what that means?” he felt its breath near his nose. He fixed an unyielding stare on its deep-set eyes.

Ervin’s eyes were dark and solemn, “Shut up…”

The creature crackled a laugh, “The same response as when you’re still alive.”

Now that piqued his attention, “Does…that mean that I’m…?”

“Oh, no,” said the creature, waving its other hand in disapproval. “You’re very much alive,” its blood-shot eyes lingered on Ervin’s severed arm and almost amputated foot, “I just have to fix a few limbs or two.”

Splash!

The devil let go of his hold on him, and he plunged on the floor like a marionette cut off its strings.

Ervin stared at his palm as he shook his head. Instead of responding to the creature, he mumbled aimlessly by himself. The thought of being alive made him want to end his life all the more. His mind knew nothing but to find ways on how he’ll end his suffering. He craved for his own destruction.

Desperate—he was desperate to die.

“I’m not alive—” His gaze landed on the creature’s sharp, black claws. He took two strides before it, their heights matching, his expression begging—he grabbed hold the creature’s hand, and with enough force, he thrust it into his heart.

The sharp claws penetrated his crunching chest with ease. He didn’t feel his life slipping out of his body. And so, he pressed further, digging deeper in his once pumping heart. He coughed blood, the warm red liquid slowly dripping on his chin. He couldn’t feel anything. He just wanted to die.

The creature fixed its gaze on the dying Ervin. It stayed quiet for a while—

Then, it burst out laughing, its baritone cackle echoing all over the place. The creature convulsed with laughter.

“Damn—” it sneaked in between his chuckles, “you’re not that dumb as I thought you to be.”

It huffed a breath, its chest exhaling a lot of air as it calmed itself. “I like that. Death is my forte.” Its eyes sparked something from within itself, and it shone brighter than the moon.

“Die…” Ervin gripped its hand, “…let me.”

The creature pretended as if it was considering his offer. “And if I let you?”

“Please…” tears mixed with the blood on his chin, “let me…die.”

It shrugged its sculpted shoulders. With one swift pull, the creature removed its claws from his chest.

“Ack!” Ervin screamed as blood showered on the water flowing beneath him. It was like a huge thorn had been removed from his heart. He collapsed on the cobbled stone floor, the water beneath him filled with ripples, and soon turned red.

The creature grabbed hold of his right arm. It dragged him fast like he was a weightless paper.

A cold, droplet of water fell on his head. It rolled down his forehead and headed toward the swollen wound on his left cheek.

The wound throbbed, but the discomfort was bearable. It sizzled, smoke coming out from the exposed flesh and dried blood. Soon, the wound stitched itself up, a straight line leaving a mark on what had once been sliced open.

The demon kept dragging him in a straight path.

“Almost there—” it managed to say, the anticipation evident in its tone.

What are you so happy about? Ervin thought inwardly.

It was that insufferable voice—the demon’s voice—it elicited the same reaction from him whenever he encountered the woman he had dreamed before he came here.

A bolt of pain traveled on his severed arm’s stump. Ervin writhed from the apparent ache. He cried when immeasurable pressure deepened on the wound. He thought it would explode for a moment—a new flesh emerged between the sockets on his shoulders. It formed itself—sculpting, coloring until it turned into the hand he once lost—his eyes widened when it matched the creature’s skin tone.

“Perfect,” the creature commented as it continuously ambles on the path they’ve taken.

All of a sudden, light blinded his sight for a minute. He squinted his eyes and debated whether to keep them open.

Where was it coming from?

His ankle shook, the flesh pulsing. The pain burst through the veins on his leg, the blood coming out from his lungs choking him. Ervin yelled in agony. He coughed more blood as the once twisted flesh, and bone returned to its original place with a painful crack.

Then, it dawned on him: the demon was reviving him—again.

He caught his breath, “No—” he tried thrashing his new arm and leg—they’re working perfectly fine. A newfound strength surged through him as if he’d been born again.

He coughed blood once more.

“I’m not quite done yet,” said the dark creature.

After what it had said, Ervin’s chest began constricting, as if a machine was squeezing the bones beneath the muscle. Just like his other injuries, the holes on his chest closed on its own.

His once fading heartbeat burst into an insurmountable pounding that he felt it pumping like the beating of drums.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Ervin whimpered.

He’d been revived, yet he felt as if every part of him had long been dead.

The creature didn’t answer for a long time.

“You have no choice, Ervin Wang.”

Ervin’s brow creased in confusion, “You know my name?”

“I know your…life.”

Disgust clouded his mind. Did that mean he’d known everything that has happened for the past six months?

“Not everything,” said the creature.

The light was closing in on them.

Ervin had never felt more alive—

“Are you a demon?” he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this creature. He needs to at least know his name.

It stopped walking.

Suddenly, like a marionette, Ervin found himself standing erect. He was in a tunnel. He didn’t know how he got himself in it, but he was walking even though he didn’t know where it led.

He craned his neck, his eyes drifting back to the devil. Their gazes locked; there was a determination on one end, and despair on the other.

“I am no demon,” it spoke, its tone lowering a few decibels.

Its eyes turned blank, its slit pupils widening.

“I am Zyros, the Deity of Darkness, who personally chose you as my vessel.”

Ervin wanted to stop, but Zyros’s power controlled the muscles on his feet.

“I don’t want to be a vessel!” he shouted. The desperation in his voice echoed with despair. “This life isn’t important to me.” His tone begged once more.

The Dark Deity kept his eyes blank, but Ervin sensed the malevolence behind it as it said, “I only care about what’s important to me.“

He felt one loud thump inside his healed chest.

He couldn’t remember why Zyros’s words felt familiar.

He walked until he found himself at the edge of a cliff. A force pushed him, and he descended into oblivion.

As he thrashed in the air during the long fall, he thought hard and made sure to find a way to end his life.

* * *

Silence.

He let out a huff of breath.

The muscles on his legs spasmed, and a purple hue crawled on the veins in his arms. Obsidian mist flew about him like a fly. Jade-colored water fell dripped from the tips of his hair.

Welcome, Ervin Wang. 

It was the creature’s voice. It’s inside his head, laughing its infamous chuckle.

“To hell with you!” he glared at the sky. He didn’t know how many times he had to say this, but he wasn’t going to be some Deity’s puppet for personal use.

There was a glint in the sky — a yellow light plunging fast in the air like a falling aircraft, and it directed its way to where Ervin’s currently standing.

At the same time, animal-like creatures with glowing red eyes came out snarling in the bushes. Ervin noted the vigilance in their movements. It felt as if they would attack him any second now.

Dark birds that seemed to be scarecrows scrambled out of the willow trees. They flew in all directions as if trying to save themselves from what was coming.

Ervin tensed. He didn’t know how, but he positioned himself as if he’s getting ready to counter an attack. Based on what he saw, it was common knowledge that something must have spooked the birds to scatter away in the dimming sky.

His head shot upward when he heard a blood curling scream. Ervin squinted his eyes to have a better view of what was descending beneath the patches of cloud.

Lightning struck, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

The bolt of electricity struck nearer than he expects it to be. The yellow light’s impact made the entire swamp vibrate as its illumination blinded Ervin for a second.

His hands automatically shielded his sight. He felt the wind go berserk, slicing and whirling like a brewing storm. His newly revived heart pounded hard on his chest.

“Oh, no!” it was a woman’s shrilly voice—

Ervin directed his head above—he confirmed his assumption, and it was indeed a woman with auburn, wavy hair—recognition flashed before his eyes—he saw her during the possession. She was falling down at an incredible speed, like a comet, to the exact place where he stood.

Her face flushed as she crashed down on Ervin, their bodies tangling like ropes when they rolled down the swamp’s damp soil.

When they finally stopped, the woman was collapsed above him, with her full chest pressing on his stiff built.