Third Host: Mastema

October 28, 2008

It was dark. Not the sort of dark you get at night, but the kind you only find deep beneath the earth. The kind of dark that can swallow a man’s mind. Mastema found that thought made him smile a little. He had the kind of smile that you normally only saw in villains in movies. Or when something very horrible was about to happen to you.

Things moved through the darkness around him. Things that had long since become acustom to the endless dark of the abyss and abandoned anything resembling coherent thought. They only fought, fucked and waited. Mastema began moving through the masses. They all pulled back slightly from him. It had taken time to teach them to leave him be. Time he had to admit he found rather enjoyable. One of his hands drifted to the coiled whip at his waist. A nasty piece of braided leather, bits of class and metal worked into the tight braids.

Mastema gave a soft, whistful sigh as he navigated through the dark. He could feel the pull of the earth. Something was happening. Something big enough to require his attention. Perhaps something big enough to let all of his new friends finally out to play.

It didn’t take long to find the entryway. The force of its gaurdian drove back the beasts inside the Abyss, but for him it was like a beacon. Forcing it open just enough to let him out took a little more time. When the Abyss had been sealed, it had only really been meant to open the once. He was meticulous as he ran through the rote. It had taken him nearly a millenia to figure it out originally and even after that he had only used it to enter the first time.

There was nothing to track time by in the Abyss, but the building strain of the intricate rote reminded Mastema how long it took. Finally, he could feel himself being pulled, the faintest sensation of movement which was almost instantly swallowed in a wall of pain, feeling as though his body was being pulled apart and crushed in the same instant. It didn’t last long before the light blinded him and Mastema laughed, holding up his hands in an offering of peace, even though he could see nothing.

“It’s just me, old man,” said Mastema, voice rough from disuse.

The giant of a man standing nearby paused and lowered his massive sword. “You crazy bastard, you actually managed to return before the Abyss opened,” said Abaddon.

“Something is happening. Somethign that might finally free you from your post,” said Mastema.

Abaddon sat slowly. “That would be quite the event.”

Mastema grinned slowly, “I’ll make sure of it.”

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