The Demon Lord bent down, pulling out a chain and then tossing it up into the air to have it fall upon the horse’s back. He neighed again and charged forward, head down and preparing himself to ram him. Conniption bucked once, literally kicking the head off of the demon that had tried to get up in behind him, before he swung his head around and snorted at Samael. Shrieks sounded as the flames ate some of the demons alive, trapping them in its hellish ways.
STRIFE DARKSIDERS FULL
Give me about five minutes and I will blow all of the shit right out of you, Horseman.”Īn answering neigh filled the room as Conniption reared up out of the ground in a ball full of flames, his anger at Strife being kidnapped only making his flames more intense and extreme. Samael threw back his head and let out a bellow of a laugh, which he ended it by swinging his arm back around and producing one little fireball in his palm.
“Yeah well, I thought that the bastards look rather nice when they were trying to beat the shit out of me, you know?” He wouldn't want his own hands getting dirty and into trouble, now would he?
Typical, Strife thought to himself as he tried to straighten himself up all of the way. In English, he had been hoping that the demons would have killed him by now. “I thought that my little soldiers would have run you out by now."
Two large horns were on his head that played out high and they were above his two fiery red eyes. Twisted, blood red wings stood out wide and proud on his back. His armor on his left side cleaved into him, leaving scars that pulled at his skin, begging for more. Samael, one of the most powerful Demon Lords after he cheated out Rasha, stood before Strife with a smug smile, his pointed teeth glistening in his mouth. “Strife, how nice of you to join us!” exclaimed the one and only Samael as he paraded forward, a nasty grin splayed out on his ghastly face. Those demons wouldn’t just move out of the way for just anyone. He knew who was going to be walking out in front of him. Strife groaned and picked himself up to his feet with an annoyed set of words playing on his tongue. He could tell that the demons were organizing themselves for another attack on him when they suddenly backed off, creating a path for someone three times their own size. They would retreat after he killed one of them but he was always getting closer to the wall and now his foot was being pressed up against it. The demons, being who they naturally were, enjoyed his pain and only doubled their attempts to kill him before he got a hold of himself again. Every time that he moved, his vision would blur from the pain and his body would sometimes fail him, making the attack that would have been lethal at one point connect like a baby. But he kept up the act, falling forward and breathing huge gasps that he truly did need. He already had one gash that was bleeding on his chest where a demon had come back at him after he had slammed his heel into its jaw. When he kicked them, they normally only bounced right back and went at him tooth and claw. If he kept going the way that he was, he would have his arm being pulled through the stone. The problem with defending himself against the demons was that every time that his fist would connect with a head, the chains would be pulled back deeper into the stone wall, pulling him in closer to the wall. Once or twice one of the demons would become impatient and they would rush him head on, a hungry look in their eyes. They would not only have to die at the same time, but they would have to separate their hearts from their bodies and bury them fifteen feet into the ground. It wasn't like he could just die anyway, being bonded with Conniption. He kept up the dead look even though he felt like his inside were bleeding and he was surely alive. The demons almost seemed to enjoy hanging about where he was, watching with greedy eyes as they seemed to wait for him to die. He felt like someone had just run him over with Conniption and then had the horse stomp in on his skull a few times just to make sure that he was hurt. Strife allowed himself to hang on the steel chains that were imprisoning him, panting softly.
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