Boots.

  Dark, black armored boots. The demon inched closer to me before. Thud. He kicked my face, which was already beaten down by him, dragging me down the steps. Thud. Again, as if my head were a ball for him to play around with. My left eye is blurry, and I am coughing up spurts of blood on the floor.

  “Stop… sto—”

  Thud.

  With that last kick, I think he's satisfied.

  Suddenly, the weight crushing me was gone. I could feel my ribcage expand again. That hurt; it was suffocating. Though with the sudden weight gone, did this demon want me to get up, or should I lie here? I tilt my battered face up, trying to look at it with blurred vision.

  “Are you supposedly the 'King' of this run-down place?“ it smirked. This 'run-down' place is like this because of you, asshole. You destroyed what I once had. What I truly held dear. I could feel my face getting hotter as my emotions of rage swelled up.

  I scrambled up to my feet, narrowing my eyes on the damned demon, “You slaughtered my people, and now you mock me?“ I spat the blood on the ground in front of it. No respect was needed for this monster; even the enemies of my past deserve respect more than this fool.

  “How could you say that?“ sarcastically. He paced left and right, continuing, “I traveled far for this moment, you know… All for you.“ he snickered.

  “You bastard!“ I quickly draw my blade, going for an overhead slash, only for it to be caught by its hand. My blade, between its fingers, “Who are you?! What do you want?!“

  It sighed, as if tired of explaining itself further, “Must I entertain your foolish question?“ With little effort, it pushed me back as if my body were that of a toddler. “I am the Demon King.“

  “Mortivus is the name. Remember it.“ I could see the smile etched on his pale white face, evil. How it sends chills down my spine. Demon King… no wonder Fuery was killed by it. Mortivus was in a different league compared to him.

  “And what I want is fun!“ he continued, “And you. You are fun. Everybody here treats me so, so well. By well, I mean, how they shower me with their blood, give their heads as souvenirs, and most of all… THEIR SCREAMS!“ he laughed, hysterical.

  “Y-you… sick fu—“

  I feel a fist lodged deep into my stomach, forcing me to kneel on one knee, expelling any ounce of air in my lungs, ultimately making me vomit.

  At this point, I'm just his plaything, beaten like a training dummy our soldiers use. But I realized something. Why is he alone? He did come and attack with an army, was he not accompanied by any soldiers coming in here?

  “Oh, before I forgot. I have a surprise for you… Bring them, Abaddon.“

  Surprise?

  Suddenly, a black shadow rose from the floor a few steps behind Mortivus. Menacing. The black shadow, almost two and a half meters tall, became clearer by the second. His muscular build shows that he is a veteran warrior, adorned with black armor almost like Mortivus's. With steel-silver straight hair just reaching his shoulders and his hollow eyes, empty, but… blood was trailing out of them, dripping onto the floor. But this demon looks a bit peculiar. Its mouth was sewn shut, unable to be opened.

  Abaddon motioned with his right hand, and two figures rose.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  “No, no, no, no…” My eyes widened, and my heart dropped at the sight of Priscilla and Sarella lying unconscious, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM!“

  Were they captured? It can't be. I had already had them escape through the tunnel. There was no way for them to know about it. The tunnel was specifically made so complex as to avoid anyone using it being captured. My mind was puzzled by the thoughts; I couldn't focus, but worried. What happened to the soldiers who were with them?

  Mortivus placed a finger on his lips, “Shh… relax, will you? Can't you see that they're sleeping? Don't want to wake up the sleeping beauties.“ Mortivus cackled.

  I need to do something. Immediately, I dashed to my family. Doing what I could only think of, which is protecting them.

  But with amazingly swift speed, almost lightning, Abaddon kicked my face. The kick was hard enough to make me fly and tumble across the room near the now-broken door. I see blood dripping on the floor where I try to wobble to my feet. This demon is incredibly fast. My vision was slightly clouded from the kick, but I could kind of make out what was happening.

  Mortivus is seen lustily caressing Priscilla's body.

  “Don't… touch her!” I howled.

  Slap.

  Mortivus slapped her extremely hard, awakening her in shock, “What?! Don't touch me! Who are you?“ she screamed. She's panicking and trembling in front of him.

  “Hey, you're a king, right? A king loves entertainment, no? I know I do.“ With a smirk, he violently choked Priscilla, who was still on the ground.

  Entertainment? I know what entertainment is, but choking my wife is not it. It was obvious to him what I felt and what reaction he was trying to get from me.

  But, like the wild beast he is, he ripped her clothes off. Stripping her of dignity, humiliating her. “Now she looks pretty.“ He licked his lips.

  Her screams echoed through the room, making my body quiver and piercing my eardrums. This was beyond cruel.

  “NO!“ I sprint to them, only to get caught by Abaddon with his solid neck-choke grip, leaving only a small space around my neck to let me breathe.

  Move, Ren, MOVE! I will not let him do anything to my wife! But, the more I struggled, the more Abaddon squeezed my neck until I didn't have the strength to move.

  I'm… powerless.

  “Ren… help me…”

  Her cry tore through the air, stabbing into my soul like daggers. Abaddon's grip still haunted my neck.

  Her eyes shift to me, widening, filled with panic, betrayal, and shame. The monster forced himself onto her. Calling me without words, for a savior that couldn't reach her.

  “Please… stop…” she pleaded, struggled, but was ignored by the monster. “Protect… Sarella…”

  It's quiet.

  “Ah… that felt great. You have a good wife, I have to say. A shame she's broken now.“

  I couldn't make out what my wife's face was like. No life can be seen in those eyes.

  Not even sparing her. Mortivus penetrated her left breast, holding her heart in his right hand.

  What…? Priscilla, no… This pain is excruciating as if my heart has been broken into pieces like a mirror, a shattered reflection of the man I thought I was—a failure of a husband, unable to protect those I love.

  I can't take it anymore, this agony.

  “Now, what should we do with the little one?“ He picks Sarella up by her forearm, “Let's wake her up, shall we?“

  Chop.

  He cut Sarella's little arm from the elbow, making her fall back, hard. Screams tore from Sarella's throat. The pain was too hard for her to bear; she couldn't hold herself in.

  “Daddy?! This hurts, help me, PLEASE!“

  I clawed at Abaddon's arm, ignoring the pain—even as my fingernails tore off.

  “Please! Mortivus, just kill me instead, let her live, PLEASE!“ God, if there's one. Please spare my daughter, she's only five years old. No child should go through this torment!

  “Am I being bad… Daddy? Was I a bad daughter??“ Her innocent cries resonated in the room.

  Ah… no… my daughter. You weren't. You never were.

  Turning a deaf ear to me, he continued with his hobby. Happily tearing off her limbs one by one, leaving nothing of her, until she bled out and died.

  It's heartbreaking and nauseating. I passed out. Only to scream back into reality when Abaddon woke me up by breaking a finger on my hand.

  Huh? She's alive… and fine? My eyes widened with disbelief.

  “Surprised? I used a regenerative spell to heal her back like she once was.“ His hand was glowing with ethereal golden light.

  A spell? What's that? Never mind, I don't care as long as Sarella is alive.

  “Let's do this again.“ He cracked a sinister smile.

  He repeated the torture, again and again and… again. Every time I passed out, Abaddon would break one of my fingers, cracking me back to reality. Each time, the torture is worse than before.

  “Just kill me, please. I don't want this anymore.“ I cried, and snot was everywhere. How could I repeatedly, again and again, look at my daughter getting killed? Hearing her screams echo, stuck in my head.

  What sin did I do to deserve this, God? My mind began slipping between nightmare and reality. Was she ever truly alive, or just another illusion he used to break me?

  It went on, eighty, no, a hundred times. More than a hundred. Mortivus finally looked like he was satisfied with me, probably because I just couldn't show any emotions anymore. With only a straight face, my eyes were the only thing showing emotion, tears still streaming down. I've become numbed.

  “I think that's enough, don't you think?“ he snickered. This bastard, this damned demon. “Abaddon, release the poor man. He suffered enough.“

  I fell to my knees, silent, and I couldn't say anything. Staring blankly at the floor. I was like a sack of flesh with no soul left.

  Mortivus walked slowly toward me. I can see the corpses of my family behind him, lying motionless as he's finished playing with them. Is it finally my time to die now?

  “Are you finally going to kill me now, Mortivus?“ I said with a monotone voice, devoid of any emotions.

  “I'll give you a gift, a parting gift. Something to make you remember me… always.“ A gift? No such thing is a gift if it's from him, I'm aware of that.

  His hand dug deep into my chest as if he were trying to rip out my heart. Instead, a white light glowed radiantly from the area where he stabbed me.

  Is this it? If I endure just a little bit of this, can I finally die? I was set on dying, I didn't have anything to live for anyway.

  Ah… I want to die and meet Priscilla and Sarella.