Beyond the Baleful Eye, beyond the gaping maw that gnaws at the edge of this reality and all others, there lies a place that over the eons has been gifted many great and terrible names.

The Abhorrent Pit.

The Ruined Realm

The Sea of Screams

Many choose to simply call it Hell; a place of fire and brimstone, of tortured souls and prideful devils.

At least that is the image that is ever presented in the minds of those that think about this… place that gnaws upon creation.

This image is… false, as such simple things can not actively begin to describe the nightmare that teetered at the edge of reality.

This realm; this realm is raw energy, it is unrefined emotion granted shape, It is nightmares given flesh and bone; and it is hungry.

There is no number to how many worlds and realms it has swallowed up. There is no telling how many more it will swallow up before the end of the new millennium.

It is in this nightmare that one stands alone and surrounded by a sea of fresh carrion. Beneath him lies broken bone and slashed meat; and leaving them seem to be vapors that seep into his armor and the flesh beneath. Before him lies a murky, twisting horizon, and he feels something is staring at him from beyond; he simply doesn’t know what, nor does he actually care. Instead he simply takes a moment to collect himself, to regain his composure and reapply the chains that keep the monster in his soul caged.

It doesn’t fight for control, it wants to be caged. It wasn’t tired, no, the monster within his soul - Battle lust and Blood rage incarnate - was bored. It had had its fun but with nothing led to kill, it quickly grew bored. It knew that if it wanted more blood and bodies it would have to wait. So it returned to its cage and waited for the next chance it got to be released.

As for its host they just breathed deep, breathed in that abhorrent, indescribable taste that filtered throughout this nightmare realm.

It tasted good.

Nothing beats the taste of essence.

The host continued breathing, relaxing as they stared skyward. They are equine; or at the very least descendents of such. Perhaps it was from crossbreeding, or perhaps it was from evolution, hell it could have been a result of powerful magics, but his forefathers had unanimously decided that having fingers was the best thing since the invention of the wheel. Dark gray and burning orange armor wrapped itself around his fur, hiding everything except for his freckled and scarred face and wild red mane. His tail was long, or at least it appeared long as it was wrapped in some part of his armor’s undersuit and ended in a flanged mace of all things. A flanged mace that was mirrored by his favored weapon, a behemoth of a thing ended in a spearhead. Tightening his fingers around his favored yet nameless weapon, the equine rested the mace/spear over his shoulder and cracked his neck before he pressed forward. The vapors, the essence - the souls of those that had fallen following him as he continued to feed.

Know this was not a natural trait. It was one of several gifts brought by magics. To feed upon the Fallen, to draw strength from their very souls was to ensure they never returned to the Screaming Sea. And with every soul he fed upon the screams grew just a little quieter. Not enough for one really notice, but still it was something the Sea itself noticed.

This one was eating it, it fed upon the realm that devoured realms, and this parasite wasn’t going to stop until there was nothing left to devour.

This parasite… the denizens of the Abhorrent Pit knew it as both the Beast and the Blight. The Ghost of a dead Age; the last son of a dead imperium that collectively chose to walk the path of perpetual torment, one that dived into the Screaming Sea not in a bid to destroy it or even buy time for the rest of creation… they came to this realm to conquer it.

Many would call it madness. No words can actively describe how batshit insane an entire people had to be to seek the ruinous thrones with the goal of sitting upon it. What might be more blasphemous was this; at one point they might have succeeded. For the Beast was not the only one to be granted Gifts by their dead Imperium.

He was not the first to receive his gifts, but he was the last alive to carry them.

Walking through the valleys that preyed upon the weak, the Beast said nothing, though his expression said much. Where would he go next? Who would be his next meal?

So he scoured the umbral plains, walked across the twisted tides all so that he might once again cross blades with the Dregs of the Ruined Kingdom.

As he did the realm itself turned against him, trying to turn him from his tireless crusade. Those that sit upon brazen thrones whispered in his ears, trying to bring him to their side.

They failed, just as they always did.

It was not faith that shielded him.

It was not the thirst for revenge that kept him on his path.

It wasn’t even the hunger for feasting upon this realm.

It was devotion; devotion to a dead cause. Devotion to a single objective; to conquer the Infernum. To break the obsidian temples devoted to the Ruinous Ones. To stand before the Primal Gods and snap their spines over his knee. To take their realms and make them his own. That was the task his people had given him, and he was going to complete it; and given his track record, not even death was going to stop him.

He wasn’t entirely sure when the black tide fell upon him. He wasn’t sure when the dregs of an abhorrent realm came to him, but it honestly didn’t matter. His fingers snapped necks that were shielded by layers of muscle comparable to iron. His fists caved in skulls like they were made of paper. His mace/spear pulverized flesh and crushed bones into dust; while his other weapons, they howled like beasts as they bit into their prey.

The one nestled within the Beast’s soul was enjoying the slaughter, and he could feel it tugging at the chains that were keeping it caged. It wanted more, so he gave it more.

One of the smarter servants of the black tide crawled along the ground, trying to escape even though both its legs had been blown off by a grenade launched in its direction. It was a smart decision; to try and get away from the Beast as it continued it’s rampage.

That was before a shadow loomed over it, and the Beast seemingly dropped out of the sky as its boot crushed its hand into a cloud born of both blood and bone debris. The scream it had was short lived; the Beast reaching down, grabbed the Demon’s throat before forcing it up to meet its gaze.

“Nalkramal iuk najor.”

The daemon didn’t respond, simply shaking as it gazed at those eyes as the Beast stared down at it.

That was before a portal - a doorway born of infernal light - opened not too far from the pair, and an armored foot stepped forward. Leaving the portal that leads to another part of this nightmare realm to close behind it. The Beast recognized this breed of daemon, they call themselves the Marauders, and were a breed the Beast was familiar with.

“nalkroro muukav lat exiukav.”

The Marauder jerked it’s weapon it held, the Crucible Axe forming out of crimson light as the Beast simply crushed the neck of the Demon it was holding onto, tossing it aside so that it might face the one that stood before it.

“you nalkriuk have thu our oaavh. ”

“turnaumn your pros againukav avhouke nalkriuk moldun lat.”

The Marauder stated, stepping to the left and the Beast did the same. One dragging its axe as another cracked their knuckles.

“Savand agh fighav, beaukav. ”

“fighav, uko avhaav avhe faavhas maausan mikar wiavneukuk avo your bi.”

The marauder fired a howling round from their own shotgun and the Beast dodged, running to the side before charging forward. It’s fist colliding with a crimson shield brought before “reaching” into it and tearing it down. The Marauder swung its axe only to miss as Beast blocked with the blade mounted on his right arm before deflecting the weapon elsewhere. Before it could throw a punch though the demon responded by raising its foot and kicked the Beast backwards. The Marauder followed by summoning some breed of ethereal wolf that charged the Beast, fangs trying to sink into armor only for its head to be grabbed and ripped in half. The Marauder followed by snapping its shotgun out and firing, the flechette rounds hitting air as the Beast rolled to the side and throwing their arm forward, their own shotgun burning into reality before it was fired.

An energy shield blocked the fire as the Beast closed in, ramming into the shield as he started to push the Marauder back before the shield dropped. A knee met his chest before it was followed by a swing of the energy axe. The Beast grabbed the weapon by its shaft and turned, throwing the demon over its shoulder and onto the ground before raising a foot only to bring it down. It missed its target as the Demon rolled, swinging its axe low as the shaft slammed into the Beast’s leg and forced it to stumble. The Marauder followed by returning to its feet, raising its axe over its head and bringing it down only to miss as the Beast grabbed the weapon and pulled it to its side before decking the Marauder in the face, cracking its mask as it did so before the armblade stabbed into its chest.

The Marauder responded, pressing its shotgun into the Beast’s armored chest and pulled the trigger, the force of its fire being strong enough to send the Beast back as the blade slipped out of its wound. A wound that was closing.

The Beast skid back, responding by firing his shoulder cannon as the Marauder raised his shield, letting it take the explosion as it found itself momentarily blinded. The shield dropped in that moment and the demon found its horns grabbed, the Beast bringing its skull down so that it would meet its knee before punching it in its face. The blow shredded part of its skin, leaving exposed muscle beneath it as the demon backhanded him. The Beast responded by throwing a right hook that evolved into a grab before headbutting the Demon before repeatedly stabbing the Marauder in the chest.

The demon wouldn’t go down.

Bringing an arm up it grabbed the Beast by the face, lifting him up before throwing him aside. In turn the Beast flipped landing on its hooves before charging forward, its armor deflecting shotgun shells before he ended up backhanding a spectral wolf into dust and kicked a second into the air only for the Shoulder cannon to lock on, and blast it into oblivion. The Marauder demon raised its shield, and the Beast’s armored fist tore through it in seconds as he grabbed the Marauder’’s throat and twisted, twisted so hard that he broke it, causing the demon’s head to twist at an odd angle as it fell to the floor.

Realizing what it had done the Beast looked at its hand before resting it on its mask. The distorted sound leaving him being both pissed and annoyed at the same time.

Something echoed into his mind, something guttural and poisonous as he started walking away.

Crack.

The Beast froze, taking the time to look back as he saw the Marauder had realigned its broken neck and was picking themself up again.

The Beast heard - felt chains rattling in his mind as the other Him started getting riled up again.

The Marauder picked up it’s axe and raced forward as the Beast met it. Doomblade extended as he used it to Block the Marauder’s weapon before throwing it back, dodged the shotgun blast and took a swing at the demon. They responded by kicking him in the chest and firing their shotgun. The shotgun didn’t do anything to stop the Beast, but the wolf that had been summoned did delay him for a moment, its fangs biting into the Beast’s leg as it held him still. At less that was before the Doomblade cut it’s head off. The Shoulder cannon belched out a grenade that the Marauder dodged before maneuvering around. Getting close it swung its axe as the Beast grabbed it’s shaft and held it between the two, pulled and headbutted the demon so hard that the Marauder’s Mask broke off revealing the skeletal face that rested beneath it. If the nose wasn’t already gone he would have broke it with his fist. The Marauder retaliated by throwing the Beast over his shoulder and onto the ground, raising a leg he brought it down as the Beast rolled out of the way before slicing the Demon’s leg and forced it to drop beside him. That done he got to his feet, grabbed the Marauder by the arms before pulling. A sickening tear ripped through abhorrentl as the Marauder’s arms were thrown to the ground and the Beast grabbed the demon’s head and forced it to face him.

“Nalkramal iuk najor.” It stared at the Demon from behind its helm as he stared down at him. “Nalkramal iuk faavhas.”

“Lat liwo nevas nauk-ach naj-ri.” The Demon responded, as it summoned its wolves, a whole horde dancing around the pair as they lunged at the Beast, pulling him further and further away from his foe as they swarmed him. As he stared stabbing away at the spectral beasts, he vaguely took notice of the pair of light blue and demons that were dropping out of the sky. And started focusing their magic in his general direction.

“Vaniukh, oaavhbreakas.” Three demons attended to the Marauder, using their magic to stitch his wounds and reattach his severed limbs. “Maausan avhe abyukuk avake lat.”

Jiak liwo gimb mausan waausan avo avhiuk nauk-alm.” The Beast growled. “Jiak liwo gimb naj-ri.”

The other Demons - Summoners - finished their spell and the Beast saw darkness.

Author's Note

This begins Infernus Astarte: Child of Ruin. It's a project I've been meaning to work on for a while while cleaning up some other stories I have posted. If this is interesting or if you recommend some cleaning up on parts feel free to let me know. I'll clean them up as soon as I can.
Also if you end up disliking this story that's fine, just please let me know why, that way I can try making it better.