by Jamie Hawke
Soul Binding
A Rift Wars: Origins Short Story
Jamie Hawke
Contents
Welcome
Soul Binding
About the Author
Read Next
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Jamie Hawke
Soul Binding
Jamie Hawke
Hell, Rift Day 1
“Change of plans!” the demon lord Kirdor shouted, moving through the demon horde. We were a mass of chaos, fire, darkness, and shadows. A beautiful sight to behold, and he was up there with the best of them. A monstrous warrior, horns sprouted out in fours from his head, curving and filed down to sharp points at the ends, his muscles were decorated with thick chains and bones, a skull over his groin with crystals in the eye sockets—red to match the demon lord’s. Yet, he was only of the sixth rung out of twelve.
I was a lowly third rung, and like the others of my kind, wore spiked armor at the shoulders and back. Other than that, all I wore was the black metal fauld—or armored belt—that acted to protect my gut and hold up the cloths that shielded my massive manhood. My red skin had been branded for each angelic kill, adding to my powers. Our plans had been, as they often were, to assault the spirit realm, take as many of them as we could to feed ourselves and the pits of torture, and move out before too many of the angels pressed down and overwhelmed our numbers.
It wasn’t that I particularly enjoyed what we did, but I was a demon. What choice did I have? The one benefit of such raids was an escape from our world. Each level of hell had its own manner of nastiness. Mine included shrieks from the tortured, rivers of blood, and eternal darkness. It gets old, even when you can see in the dark, like me.
First and second rung demons couldn’t even do that. I say couldn’t, because as far as demons go, that day might have seen the last of them in any traditional sense. It all changed after the “Shifting,” as the angels later referred to it, and I decided I liked the term more than the “Rift opening.”
At that moment, all I could think about was how much I’d been looking forward to catching a glimpse of the spirit realm, so I hoped this change in plans wasn’t going to fuck me in the ass.
A younger demon at my side was cackling, cracking a joke along the lines of my exact thoughts, when a hand grabbed him by the jaw, tore the fucking thing off, and used it to gut the poor bastard.
He toppled over, his moan coming as a guttural gurgling sound, as Lord Kirdor stood over him. “Who else doesn’t feel like shutting the fuck up?”
All were silent. The worst part was, that demon on the ground wouldn’t die. He’d go on like that, in pain… forever. Or at least until Lord Kirdor pardoned him and let him go to get sewn up, but demons, and especially demon lords, weren’t the most forgiving type.
I stood ready, hand on the hilt of my sword, a nasty, serrated-edge blade that glowed with fire when it had taken enough souls. My only claim to fame, really, won off a demon who’d forged it on the seventh level of hell. Everyone said I’d been lucky that day, but fuck if I cared. Luck meant I was here, with that sword, about to go on the third raid of my illustrious career as a demon.
The millennia before that? I’d been on patrol duty, guarding the gates of Hell when I was lucky, the River Styx and other such places when not. Talk about boring.
Satisfied that nobody else planned on interrupting, Lord Kirdor walked back toward the hill a few paces from me, eyes actually passing over me as he went. A surge of fire rose up my spine, tingling, burning. I loved it.
“The plan has been changed,” he said, actually grinning. He never grinned. “Instead of raiding the spirit realm, we’re attacking Heaven.”
Mumbles rose, only fueling that smile. He looked like a jack-o-lantern with the smile almost all the way to the top of his cheeks, eyes in a malicious glare.
“That’s impossible,” one of the demons closer to his rank spoke up.
Another, more hesitant, remembered himself. “Lord Kirdor, how… If you’d be willing to explain…?”
Lord Kirdor held up a hand and silence returned, even from the groaning demon on the ground. “There’s always been a barrier protecting Heaven. That’s all we know—and as of now, that barrier has fallen.”
As he spoke a strange light appeared in the sky. Or maybe it wasn’t exactly a light, but a sort of shimmer, a disturbance. In a blink of an eye—for those of us demons who still had eyelids—it had passed, leaving everyone confused about what had just happened.
“Might have been what took down the barrier wall,” someone shouted, earning grunts of agreement.
But what was really strange in that moment was a feeling like something had just unclasped on my wrists and neck, and then fallen off. Something I’d never known was there until now that it was gone.
And another thing. A realization that I didn’t want to go fight angels. I had no interest in torturing souls, in wearing a fucking skull over my dick, even if it had crystals in its eye sockets. The skull, not my dick—and no, demon dicks don’t have eyes or eye sockets, but they are massive.
Other demons nearby were mumbling, some cursing and even a couple suddenly falling on their swords, gutting themselves or stabbing blades through their own throats. Lord Kirdor stared at the sky in confusion, a wave of flying demons moving up toward us, and then a voice called out from their mist.
“Gather, forces of evil! Attack!”
And the charge was on, darkness sweeping us up, some leaping into it with gusto, others actually trying to run away before being flung into the sky as the cloud began its ascent.
“Fall in!” Lord Kirdor shouted, grabbing a demon who looked utterly terrified, and tossing him into the sky. Another looked at him and actually tried to attack, throwing red waves of energy at the demon lord before charging with a green, glowing sword.
Not a chance. Lord Kirdor came back at his assailant using his own energy to wrap around his arm and create a punch that left the upstart demon in pieces. Pieces that would, as far as I knew, forever feel pain.
Others surged on Lord Kirdor, shouting of mutiny, of being done with this place… of not being slaves anymore. Is that what I’d been? My shackles had, for some reason, come undone? He destroyed them as fast as he had the first one, and then as a glowing screen appeared next to him he batted it away, dismissing it as easily as one would a stray spirit.
Whatever was happening here, I wasn’t about to end up in pieces of agonizing flesh for the rest of eternity, so I leaped, sword drawn, and joined the cloud as it progressed, thousands of demons at the ready. It wasn’t the first time I’d experienced the death cloud—magically powered movement that took us from the bowels of hell to our fight.
It was, however, the first time I’d experienced it without my invisible shackles. The first time I realized I’d been a slave, and that now there was a choice. Maybe the choice would result in eternal torture, but there was an actual choice.
Powerful demons, death reapers, and more flew through the sky around me, many determined and howling, ready for a fight. But some had uncertainty in their eyes. One had outright betrayal—a tall and willowy soul reaver, whose skin
seemed to have a blue and purple glow shifting beneath it, with a long, tattered cloak that trailed his path.
His eyes roamed, met mine, and focused. He apparently saw through me, and I him. With a flurry of his cloaks, he was off, breaking free. In that moment, I knew it was either continue on, slay angels and torture souls, or see what else was out there. Now or never. Taking the leap, I reached out, grabbing hold. His cloak swept me away from the dark cloud of demons bellowing toward the heavens for the war of all wars, or what I imagined it would be.
Swept along, like that, his robes threatening to break free from my grasp at any moment, I felt truly free for the first time. All I had to do was keep hold, to be done with it all. Darkness turned to pink, a swath of colors ahead and approaching fast. This wasn’t space. It wasn’t anything I knew of. It wasn’t even stable, from what I could see.
As we passed into the colors, what I imagined should have been the spirit realm, I saw through the soul reaper’s eyes momentarily and watched as the spirit realm tore apart, as it created new worlds, as the heavens and levels of hell, too, split. Everything was morphing, colors separating, spinning, becoming new worlds, and none of it made sense.
Feeling my presence—mentally and physically—the soul reaper turned my way with eyes glowing white. A thousand souls showed their story all at once, their voices mixing into one as he spoke.
“You can’t stop me,” he shouted, turning with glowing spear at the ready.
“I don’t want to,” I replied, simply holding on, hoping this wouldn’t end badly.
He considered me, nodded, and let the spear go.
“Still, as I can’t be trusting you, you know, demon and all…” he shrugged and then spun, sending me hurtling off into the vast nothingness.
And suddenly it wasn’t nothing, but a shimmer of light, maybe a portal, and I was hitting ground, rolling, slamming into rocks and then stopped by… a tree? My body ached, fresh cuts oozing black blood, and my head was pounding. Sitting, then pushing myself to stand with the help of the tree, I had to smile in spite of the pain.
Looking out over this place, I was relieved by the fact that it was, if nothing else, at least not any level of Hell I had ever seen. While it was still dark, the simple fact that there were rolling, grass covered hills, trees, and tall, majestic mountains made it stunning in my eyes. Movement in the distance told me something or someone else was here, wherever this place was, so I decided to stay near the trees while I investigated, to avoid being spotted if possible.
Yellow and orange danced across the grass, and I turned to better get a view of what was causing it.
A flickering of fire, but not the massive, flesh-searing type like in hell. This was a pleasant fire, one that, I imagined, was for warming oneself. Maybe even for simply staring into in enjoyment, as I found myself doing the closer I walked.
Then… laughter? It was a strange sound, unfamiliar to my ears. I pulled back, pressing myself against a tree that was clearly too thin to conceal me. I must’ve made a sound, because the laughing stopped, someone mumbling something.
Figuring they might be checking the surrounding area, I ducked into the shadows, pulling at them for concealment. It was one of my little tricks, being able to use the shadows around me for concealment and other things. Shadow magic was well coveted, and part of why I’d been considered as high up in demon hierarchy as I had, as low as that actually still was.
Hiding there, I was able to watch, waiting. At first all I saw was her hooded silhouette. I only assumed she was female by the saunter in her walk, curved hips moving back and forth. Her voice confirmed it a moment later, when she said, “Probably just another lost soul.”
Then she started to turn but paused, eyes moving around the areas surrounding the campfire. She wasn’t facing me, but I could see half of her face underneath the red hood and the details of her clothing. All red, even the armor. Markings along her hood that looked like strange writing. It was really that face though—not perfect like an angel, not hideous like a demon. Not covered in fear or torment like the souls of Hell. No, this was a strong woman, a woman who was looking for something to beat the shit out of. Pleasant to look at, but it was more the attitude I saw in those few seconds before she grunted and returned to the fire.
I’d never seen anything like her, and was having a reaction I’d had in other situations but not this. Back in hell, at times we demons would fuck. It was more to unleash our animal instincts than anything else, and sometimes for worse reasons. Here though, watching her ass as she returned to the fire, I felt the urge to grab her, kiss her, caress her. It was a strange, sensual craving, one that made my massive cock surge in size, so that I had no choice but to bend over, moving my clothes aside to let it free.
And for the first time I felt… guilt? Hiding there watching this woman with my erection exposed, I felt like a creep. It wasn’t something I’d ever dealt with, although I understood morals on an intrinsic level, being a demon and all.
I put it away in spite of the annoying way my heavy cloths pressed down on it. Still, the thoughts of bending her over right there, of reaching around to caress her breasts as I fucked her… those I let sweep over me full throttle. Fuck, I was a demon, not a saint.
There were others there. I’d not noticed them before because I only had eyes for her. I’d apparently lost track of what they were saying as the flow of blood to my cock took my focus, but tuning back in, I caught a whiff of the conversation.
“We should be heading back through, anyway,” a man said. “We’ve no idea what this place is. I say we get back to the others, set up some sort of defense in case whatever’s here—lost souls or whatever, can get through.”
“You’d retreat so soon?” the woman replied. “Without knowing what’s here?”
“I know we don’t want to lose track of the portal, and that in situations like this, caution is always better.”
Another voice said, “I’m with the hot bitch.”
It was followed by a yelp.
I craned my neck to see that she had him bent over, face extremely close to the fire. He was whimpering now.
“Call me a bitch again, and see what happens.” She pushed, and he growled. The growl made sense, too, when I saw his catlike features. Now that I thought about it, I wondered if she had feline features as well. Seeing her from side-on, and only partially at that, I hadn’t really been able to tell. As far as I knew, I’d just stumbled upon a small party of cat people.
I’d seen my fair share of oddities in Hell, but this was a new level.
Kneeling there with my massive erection, I still didn’t know what my plan was. I’d escaped the army of demons because I didn’t want to be one of them anymore, but what I wanted to do or be eluded me. I considered simply going up and introducing myself to the three around the fire. Maybe there were more, I couldn’t tell because of the trees. What if they attacked me, though? I could probably take two or three, but had no idea really.
And fuck, watching that lady dominate the poor sap was turning me on even more. I grabbed my cock, moving to see if there could be more comfort found, and had to stop in amazement. It wasn’t every day that I cared to touch myself—what was the point? But damn, it was more swollen than I’d ever realized it could get. It was throbbing, too, filling me with the need to run in there and do something about it, or maybe take matters into my own hands.
A glance back showed the female finally letting the other one go, giving him a warning.
I couldn’t walk over there as a friend, trying to introduce myself when this erection was in full salute. With that in mind, I turned around, moving a bit further away to take care of it. Not far enough away that I’d lose track of them if they decided to leave, but enough to where I could quickly make myself presentable.
At a good spot with trees hanging over and plenty of shadow, I moved my cloths aside, wrapped my two meaty hands around my cock, and started stroking. Only two strokes in, I noticed a face staring at me. Well, ‘
at me’ meaning, my cock in my hands, really. And when I say a face, I mean that and only that. Just a face, hovering there, female. Translucent, blue and white. Her hair flowed around her as if she were submersed in water, her eyes were nothing but white. She was dissolving into silver, the faint lines glimmering like reflections of moonlight. I even felt something touch my tip—although maybe it was the wind—and then the first shout came from behind.
I spun, hand going for my sword, when pain gripped me as it felt like a hand had grabbed hold and was now clenching my balls. My free hand swung out, passing through something cold, and then I called upon the nearby shadows to converge on the spot.
That yanking on my balls, then… free. I fell back, pissed, hurting, and confused. More shouting. Instead of waiting to see what had happened, I was up, running toward the fire. One benefit of this strange encounter was that my cock was quickly returning to its normal size, so it wouldn’t be as likely to get in the way during a fight.
The fire was blazing unnaturally in a way that reminded me of home, but that wasn’t the odd part. If I hadn’t just experienced the strange ball-groping down the hill, I would’ve been very confused upon seeing the team of cat people swinging their weapons around at what at first appeared to be thin air.
Ghosts, or lost souls. The ripples they created were barely noticeable. In our world, we’d always been able to see them, but I remembered hearing stories about how ghosts would, before leaving Earth, often become invisible or nearly so. That had to mean that these things were either ghosts and this place was somewhere between Earth and the spirit realms as I knew them, or that this was some sort of strange magic.
