Name: Nil

Race: Demon

Type: Nil

Class: Nil

Age: Immortal - 4 years

Crystal Essence: Pink [Level 1]

Health Points (HP): 10

Mana Points (MP): Nil

Abilities: Nil

Traits: [Tough Skin 2]

Spells: Nil

Patron: Nil

The line shifts once more, a new demon born from the thousands, tens of thousands, in line.

I’ve spent four years in line to the three giant Demons in front of me. The three are identical in the feeling of disgust they summon every time I look up at them. Sitting on thrones, one of dark igneous rock, another swimming in viscous, green acid, and the last on a throne of burnt sand, silicon with insect-like creatures between straits of the massive chair, most still alive.

The three Demons I’ve stood in line for years tower over twenty feet tall and occupy a space fitting of their fat. Each Demon retains the aspect of the part of the Realm they’re from. The one seated on igneous rock is a burning beast, yawning fire from its tusked mouth, belching out molten slobber with each of us it chooses to consume.

The one from the Desert is more or less a giant insect, long and stratified, its body sprouts out more legs than I’ve bothered counting. It wraps around the throne of silicon more than it sits on it and has no face, only clattering and chittering long mandibles.

The last is a creature I had trouble comprehending. At first, I thought the rumbling green blubber was acid, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Behind the green and sometimes within it, a Demon without shape vomits and hisses at its own cursed form. Dark, like a bruised, swollen infected eye split open and spilling with pus and mucus. At the sides of the gash of vile are two beady eyes, aching in despair yet swallowing the Demons that line up before it nonetheless.

I haven’t spent all the years staring at these gigantic Demons though, in fact, I’ve spent more time staring at my burning, aching feet and my stat sheet than I have wondering what happens when I stand before them. My interest is set on the little progress I’ve made, although unintentional, gaining the trait [Tough Skin 2] has helped ease the torment of this place.

Along the line and through the years I’ve seen all sorts of creatures tossed in line behind me. Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, Gnomes, Dragonborns and so many other variants of the many races. Although, I suppose they’re all Demons now, much in the same fashion I used to be Human and now have a crystal sticking out of my chest and my skin toughening against the scorching pains.

Still, I’ve discovered more about this Hellscape and my situation in the last four years than the eternity I spent in the wall.

For one, my immortality doesn’t mean I don’t experience the passing of time, my hair has begun to flow over my shoulders now, getting in my face and tickling my nose, yet at the same time, the passing of time doesn’t mangle my body as I suspected it would. Or as it should. After all, it’s been four years since I got my body back, my organs save my genitals which I can’t remember and I’ve been starving all this time.

The wails that call out on the line are those thirsting for drops of water in the unbearable heat and burning, for a piece of our warden's fat meals, gruesome as said meals look. But I know better than to beg and draw attention to myself. Doing so gets you pulled out of line and forced to drink from the river of lava flowing beside us. The Demon's sinister ways of quenching thirst.

It's an instant death for any normal person or creature, but watching and measuring the punishments, I’ve discovered that those who survive have something in common.

A brighter coloured crystal.

The low hue of pink embedded in my chest is not what everyone else carries. Some have deeper shades, others are nearly white. It's led me to believe that the deeper the colour, the higher a chance you are not to lose your immortal life.

I can live forever in hunger, thirst and mild burning pains but take it too far…

The discovery gives me even more reason to mind my business, keep my lips sealed no matter how much I delude myself into thinking the pleading look on my face will touch the hearts of the stout, insect Demons flying overhead with their whips in hand.

Keeping to this resolve has kept me safe. The only whippings I’ve received from the dexterous insect Demons are the ones they give on a whim. There have been quite a few of those, out of nowhere they’d start whipping, sometimes their comrades would join. Other times it's humorous because when another joins the first would stop and confront the intruding Demon. They’d start arguing, bickering and one of them may even kill and consume the other right in front of us.

Their inability to stay on the same page has saved me countless times.

With their enraged whims being the only hiccup in the years on the line, I’ve managed to stay alive long enough to be third in line. By the time I was twentieth I’d discovered what we’re in line for, what happens when we step in front of the three giant Demons.

A transformation.

As I am, I still have my human form, but there hasn’t been a glimpse of a human-looking Demon in all the four years I’ve spent here. I have heard what happens at the front of the line as well, a decision taken by the house-sized Demons on what they transform you into for their Demon Lord.

Each of the Demons seated on the thrones have the power to transform us into whatever they choose, but sometimes they swallow the person instead.

The line moves and I’m next up after the Dragonborn before me staggers ahead, heaving to a fall, his crystal a shade deeper than mine. They look down at him and the unspeakable acid Demon speaks, its voice resonating in my mind.

“What will this one be? Not much potential...another meal perhaps?”

“Enough with your greed, do you not fear the wrath of your Lord?” The tusked beast rumbles out loud, the only one of the three having a mouth to speak with. Its skin glistens with bright burning lava dripping off his chest and down a fat stomach.

The acid Demons snaps back, “Silence you. Do not speak to me of fear, I bide my time.”

Chittering fills my head, roughly translating to a snide comment on how they bide their time on the Lord's orders.

“Choose what to turn it into, the next one is mine.” The tusked beast says, its head lowers glowering at me. Its face is as fat as the rest of its body, long, spiralling with blubber and rows of fat from the chin.

I look away from it and stare at the shrivelled Dragonborn ahead, the acid Demons shifts on its throne of goop and spits mucus at it. Screaming ensues.

The Dragonborn roars and howls, his voice lost after seconds leaving him contorting, silently screaming at the transformation. His scales melt away, the golden-brown of his skin whitens, his tail falls off and his mass increases until he stands mouth ajar in a voiceless scream.

When it's done he stands thin as ever but longer, taller with a poor shade of white skin, filled with holes still steaming from the burns. A red glow emanates from his chest, the transformation complete, his pink turns a deep red, crimson.

“Begone.” The acid Demon orders and the previous dragonborn now a [Swak] type Demon according to the icon above its head. It stalks away, moving through the burning acid and into one part of the realm.

'I guess I’m up next...and fire is where I’m headed to.'

Without being called I step forward and the fat, tusked lava Demon rumbles in its spilling grin. Standing before them now, with no one ahead of me I am fearful once more.

'The last thing I want to do is turn into one of those… I shake my head, No, second to the last, I can’t get eaten either.'

“Barely any potential here, I know exactly what to do with you.” Licking its lips it beckons me forth.

Between the three giant Demons, the flying ones with whips and the terrible terrain, there isn’t much else I can do but obey. Each step burns more than [Tough Skin 2] can take, and I wince, aching in hunger and frail with weakness, but I don’t spill over.

Chittering follows my display and I surmise the screeching nonsense in my mind to say something of a compliment to my strength. Some pride and hope wells up within me at this.

“Yes, this one could serve better not as a meal, there is more potential here than you’re willing to see through your hunger.” The acid Demons concurs.

Growling, snapping its teeth at it, the tusked Demon roars, “Silence you! You’ve eaten your fill the past years, only the useless have come to you and now you tell me to turn this one into something other than sustenance?”

The heavy, infected looking Demon shifts in its goop at this, turning away from the Tusked.

'Fuck! I’m dinner. I can’t be dinner!'

But it’s too late, the Tusked flicks a finger and my feet leave the ground, hovering inches above and climbing higher as it draws me closer with a gesture from its clawed finger.

As its maw falls open, I struggle against the unseen force with what’s left of my strength but it’s no use. Its jaw collapses and within it I see a broiling death awaiting me and I scream, “NO! Lords! Spare me and I will be your willing servant! Spare me!”

I get no help from the others, in fact, they shirk away from my cries. Hovering above the open maw of the Tusked, its collapsed lips spread with delight and the force holding me ceases to be, I fall but I’m not defeated yet.

Its mouth is massive, a crack in the ground from an earthquake would be smaller but to my luck, it isn’t and I grab hold of one of its shorter tusks. Mouth hung open it makes a questioning sound even as the heat from its lava-filled stomach burns my feet. Hanging by the embers of my strength the stench of its mouth suffocates me, a stench of ammonia and sulfur, its saliva is more lava, and its tongue is black as the throne it sits on, the heat from it all begins boiling my skin.

Its arm begins to loom over the mouth, intent on forcing me in. With haste and skill, I yank myself up by the tusk and tumble on its bare face.

Chittering fills my ears and mind, the insect Demon starting a rant about how right it was.

The Tusked roars, “How dare you!” It scrambles to grab me off its face, but it’s large, hot and I’m small and desperate, running up to the top of its head it screams some more, “Off of me you Deader!”

Panting at the exertion, ducking under and jumping over the Tusked swipes I know it’s only a matter of time before it finds a better way to grab me. And to my luck, something fancy on its blackened head catches my eye. No, rather it calls to me, this close to it I almost can’t keep my eyes off of it.

Buried under the scratch of the blackened mound that makes the top of its head is a glowing Maroon coloured crystal. Even with all the haste and dodging, I can feel its power and I know this is the bit that fuels the Tusked, that fuels Demons.

'This is what gives us power.'

Falling flat on my stomach, mouth salivating, I do the unthinkable and sink my teeth into it and…I instantly regret it. The Crystal is harder than anything I’ve bitten into, my jaw bleeds from the attempt and I’ve got a few broken teeth. But I’m intent on biting something close, something powerful and its entire head exudes power.

It roars hastening my search but what I’m looking for isn’t too far off from the Crystal. Near the edge of it is a large, round boil.

'Now this is unthinkable.'