The clouds cleared from the sky, revealing a dark blue expanse with a haunting, serene beauty.
Morgan lay on the ground, gasping, blood oozing from his mouth. Kneeling, he stared at the approaching man, his eyes weary and heavy from the brutal scuffle. Slowly—painfully—he forced himself up, stumbling as his legs trembled beneath him.
"God knows what will happen henceforth… I will die, certainly… BUT I WILL DO MY BEST AND MAKE YOU PAY—EVEN IF I MUST SELL MY SOUL!"
Lionel advanced toward him, laughing, twirling his daggers between his fingers with a mocking grin.
"How scary… I'm going to wet my pants. Pfft—how lame. Get up. Let me have my fun too~"
"LAUGH… hew… hew… Laugh all you want! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY FOR KILLING HER!"
"Oh, you mean your wife? Do you want to know who tortured her? It was me—Lionel. C'mon, man, you can do better than that. Where's all that strength you had when you slaughtered my underlings—all eight of them? I'll admit, I'm impressed. Never knew you had it in you. You almost looked like a devil, you know."
Morgan dragged his feet forward, every step agony. His hands burned, the skin cooking slowly from gripping the still-hot sickle—like a steak sizzling over a slow fire, searing to perfection.
The compound was unrecognizable. Embers rose and danced in the air, fire circling and growing with no sign of stopping. The scene deserved to be immortalized on canvas—if only anyone present could live to tell it.
A man like a devil stood there, wounds carved across his body, his clothes fused into his charred skin. The flames swirled around him, embers rising like a crimson shroud. His bloodshot eyes locked on his target. No words. No hesitation.
He rushed forward.
"Oh, you got serious now but unfortunately i have no more time to admire you—աɨռɖƈʊȶ."
The dagger rose up like it was directed by the wind and targeted the left ankle of Morgan, slicing it and returning to him.
Morgan fell face first in the mud with no support to stand on, and no movements were coming from him.
"Boss, this should be enough, right? I am in no mood to play; he took the fun out of it. How unfortunate."
"The moment he is alive and I get paid i care less about how you feel. -Brimstone, it's done."
Brimstone sliding out of the carriage and looking over
"Bring him to me, you goons. My soles can't be dirtied by all that blood. How filthy!"
Carried over by the thugs, Morgan was still conscious, but his lifeless self was brought over still bleeding, and the sickle was rendered to dust, with nothing left of it, his hand charred to a state of no return. His skin was full of third-degree burns.
"How unsightly, Morgan. Had you just listened to me and followed my orders like I wished you to, your wife would still be here with you." Holding up Morgan's chin, Brimstone mutters, "Uhm... you cannot even speak. What a waste. Tell me, was it worth it disrespecting me by refusing my kindness and running away from me?" Morgan's mouth moved, but only muffled sounds came from it. "Are you saying something? "Speak louder." Brimstone brought his ears closer to Morgan's mouth. "Listen here... pig, I will never forgive you." Morgan smiled widely; with his bloody mouth, he started chanting in the language of the old.
"𝔇𝔬 𝔱𝔦𝔟𝔦 𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔪 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔭𝔯𝔬 𝔭𝔩𝔲𝔳𝔦𝔞 𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔪 𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔪𝔦𝔠𝔬𝔯𝔲𝔪 𝔪𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔲𝔪 𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔠 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔞 𝖉𝖆𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘 𝖆𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖝𝖆𝖘"
"Morgan, what is this nonsense you're saying? Have you already gone crazy? - Kill him; he is of no use anymore."
"HAHAHA BRIMSTONE—I TOLD YOU YOU WOULD PAY. I KEPT MY PROMISE. YOU ALL ARE DEAD NOWWW. BLOOD SHALL RAINNNN."
Brimstone stopped in his tracks and turned on to face him. "END HIM NOW. JUST HEARING HIM SICKENS ME."
"TOO LATE, THE PACT IS DONE."
The blue night was enveloped by a red hue, the environment transforming into what seemed like a dome with red smoke rising everywhere.
"You have called me here. I, the Great 𝖉𝖆𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘 𝖆𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖝𝖆𝖘, have heard your wish, and I accept your request. The transaction shall start now and end after I finish my task."
A being that has a humanlike sculpture stood there with horns adorning his head, indescribable, but in the children's stories, that being is usually called the ...
"DEVILLLLLL, IT'S THE DEVILLLLLL. RUNNNNN."
"MORGAN, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
Brimstone, in great fear, turns around and screams while gasping, his face full of tears and snot, his pants wet from some interesting actions.
"SAVE MEEEEEEEE, TRUFHEL, DO SOMETHING, DO SOMETHING—"
"How Unpleasing humans reek and act so much like cattle." Abraxas decapitated brimstone and looked over the rest and says but one word: "SILENCE."
The whole area went dead silent; no more sound could be heard. Everyone tried muttering words, but no sound came out. "First of all, I am not a devil, you damned foulmouthed beings. I am a demon. Two different RACES!!! I think you guys have a term for this, you damned RACISTS.
Second, I was asked to make it rain blood, so just FREEZE. Will you?" Every single one of Brimstone's men froze on the spot, could not move, and could not speak. "Third, I must let my summoner express something now, don't I?" Abraxas looking over to Morgan. Morgan says, "I have nothing more to say; I am done. Just this, I did not think the summoning would work considering the requirements for it." The demon shrugged and looked over and smirked. "Why should I bother to explain it to a dead man? Just know this, your price was enticing, so I took it. That's all. Get that?"
"I see the moment my wish is don__" Morgan breathed his last. "Hmm? "Well, I already have my payment now; now let it rain blood by EXPLOSION."
Every single human left alive exploded, and their blood dyed red the compound within a radius of 5 km. The red unveiled itself; the night went back to its deadpan quietness—no corpses left, just the blood.
Before the demon left, he turned around and muttered something.
Flowers out of nowhere start growing, drinking the blood. Those flowers are called spider lilies. The pool of blood was replaced by a meadow of flowers. The once white flowers dyed by the blood became red. Red Spider Lily flower, Oh, Red Spider Lily flower, With your red petals, the color of blood, I see you blooming, with a stem but no sight of a leaf.