A quite unconventional prologue

From that moment I was under his command; I was Lucifer’s marionette, and death would soon be poetry to me.

A repugnant, viscous-like luminescence spilled from the smouldering orange spheres that replaced his eyes. The glow blurred my vision, dazzling me with a nightmarish mirage that haunted the deepest depths of my soul, the abyss of my mind. Before me stood six-feet of pure, cold-blooded malevolence, madness incarnate that would have made the dark lord himself tremble before it, begging for mercy like a coward grovelling at the executioners block.

I had stepped through the portal, walking with a foolish haste into what I hoped would be nothing but a vast emptiness beyond. A blank canvas on an artist’s easel, waiting to be painted with contrasting colours by my lately overactive imagination. I hoped I was lost in a personal never-never land, that despite its intensity my ordeal hadn’t been real. But as my feet crunched on the dry, leafed floor of the backward oak jungle, I knew my desperate hopes were unrealised.

I was in more peril than I could’ve imagined given a thousand years of preparation. He knew I was coming; he had been waiting for me, and by arriving with such ferocity I was toying with fate; gambling with the Devil’s own picture book, and wantonly tossing his ivory bones. I was to be his victim, his plaything, a reluctant disciple to Beelzebub’s accursed coup d’état.

I was in pursuit of love, or rather of my own. She had lead me here leaving behind the chilling contents of a decade old journal that had driven me straight into the sunless forest of inferno, a journal scribed through her own fair hand. It prophesised a charge the world would rely on me to take. I was to be become Kedathara’s premier protomatyr, a man predestined to quell an evil unlike anything that had ever walked God’s green earth, with savage tooth or unholy claw.

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