Just Died in Your Arms Tonight[Azoriat]

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Deep within the noxious sewers of New Orlands, an olive baritone vibrated within as Allenhart was curled comfortably in his tattered leather-bound chair; an ancient record player beside him, revolving the disc as his favorite melody repeated over and over. His base of operations were at the feet of all who wandered aimlessly through this desolate city, unaware of the horrible experiments that transpired below them. In unison with the gorgeous sounds bellowing from the phonograph was a seemingly bizarre voice which hummed each lyric with hypnotic drawl, as if bewitched by its melody. The crazed necromancer twiddled in his seat, rolling his neck impatiently as he tried to relax his fractured mind. A low grumble crept from the dark and settled itself beside him and he raised a gentle hand and began to stroke his dearest pet Sheila. Her deformed crown nuzzled against his icy touch and the avian-looking creatures seemed to purr with each passing stroke from its master’s palm. As Allenhart’s mesmerizing sound finally finished, the record song began again:

Speak softly, love and hold me warm against your heart I feel your words, the tender trembling moments start
We're in a world, our very own
Sharing our love that only few have ever known

Wine-colored days warmed by the sun
Deep velvet nights when we are one

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky
The vows of love we make will live until we die
My life is yours and all because
You came into my world with love so softly love...

The mood surrounding the odd and troubling figure was startling to see for his emotions seemed dangerously erratic, more than normal. The soothing vocals from Andy Williams were desperately trying to calm the violent storm sitting in the red chair, who twitched irritably as his fingers clutched to the arms of the chair, fighting a vain battle against his loose impulses. “Wine-colored days warmed by the sun...” He thrummed the next line, his silver eyes darting in every direction. Then, as quick as his irises moved, he shot up from his seat and trotted toward his next destination.

As the notes were gracefully playing, Allenhart placed his deadly mechanics along the table. Grabbing his tweezers he sauntered creepily to the far wall where a conspicuous red button was fastened to the wall. “Wakey wakey!” A light exploded from the slight darkness and revealed a man. A poor, desperate man who was completely terrified looking as he sat in the chair, tied like an animal. He had no free will at this point. The man was crying within the gag and choking as the tears and queasy feeling was getting ahead of him.

Allenhart giggled as he slapped the man. "Get a hold of yourself man!" A playful accent rolled of his tongue as he stared with crazed happiness.

The man shivered and drew himself back. The chair wobbled as the force was too great but set back down as Allenhart drove his hand down on the man's knee to keep him from falling back. Maybe, cause a little pain as well. “You don’t wanna hang out with me? Aww.”

“So, what shall I cut off today? Wait, you got a few stubbies there sir let me help..." The cold scalpel sliced along the weak man's neck, almost drawing him into the pain. “There, much better. Aren’t you a handsome devil.”

As the last verse began, the soothing familiar voice rang as he began to sing.

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky The vows of love we make will live until we die My life is yours and all because
You came into my world with love so softly love...

With its dramatic finish Allenhart suddenly lifted his foot and jabbed it against the chair, pushing the man over and onto the plastered floor. The man grunted and moaned with the upbringing pain buzzing in the back of his head. Allenhart threw himself on top and gave a haunting smile as he began to run one end of the sharp scalpel across the man's chest, drawing some blood. "Hold still, it will only hurt for a long time!" He bellowed joyously. He was going to have some fun today!

“When I’m done Sheila, you can eat him.” Originally this poor fellow was to be a live experiment however maybe for his sake, it would be best die quickly.

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Azoriat's italian leather shoes clicked on the sewer floor as he walked toward Allenhart's back having appeared in the room. The chains on his jacket jingled with a haunting tone.

Azoriat had felt the fear and pain of the man under the doctor, it was sweet and heavy like cream. Now that he was back in the mortal world he would need pawns to accomplish his goals. Who better than a Necromancer.

He thought to himself back to Russia and the last necromancer he had come across. Hopefully this one would be easier to mold than the Mad Monk.

"you know Doctor there are some that would say fear seeps into the meat of the slaughtered"

He leaned against the doctor's chair watching the victim's anguished, horrified face. Azoriat enjoyed torture as much as the next demon but there was something about having a strong victim, watching their resolve and bravery break into whimpering madness.

Either this Doctor would prove himself useful or he would not. Part of him hoped the man would fight against him. Then Azoriat would have the pleasure of breaking him down piece by piece until he had no choice but to serve. Only time would tell.

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As the demon encroached upon the Necromancer’s personal space, monstrous snarls bellowed within the catacombs and appearing from the dark, surrounding the doctor were Allenhart’s abominable creations. Their claws shifted with primeval hunger with each dangerous step they took, trying to encircle this new prey. The pack of dead lupine creatures growled continuously in primordial unison as if singing a bloody melody as they drew closer and closer to Azoriat. It was only a few moments left before these creatures would assault this man with obvious odds against them; they could sense his overwhelming power by their blind devotion to the Necromancer would removed any doubt they carried in their rotting brains.

“Halt children!” Allenhart threw out a bloodied hand, his scalpel gripped tightly within his bony fingers and his silver eyes flashed in intense ferocity. His monsters instantly drew back, some even whimpering from disappointing their dearest master. The poor victim was shuddering in terror from these two madmen and the frightening creations so close to him and he wriggled to attempt an escape. As Allenhart still had his victim straddled he threw his eyes back in anger as his toy was trying to leave him and with not a single lack of impulse control he slid the delicate knife against the man’s throat and he gawked as the human spasmed like a beached fish.

“Feed on this instead babies.” He lifted himself from the sad dying shell underneath him and he turned squarely to Azoriat, scanning him carefully. As he abandoned his prey, his pets immediately tossed themselves ravenously onto the man’s corpse, feasting on the man’s flesh in a matter of seconds. The noises of crushed bones and sloshing flesh reverberated for a few moments before it slowed and the wolf-like creatures drew back, pulling the leftovers deeper with them.

Even in his insanity, the good doctor could tell when it was required to keep himself composed as possible; however it was extremely difficult not to just outright assault this intruder but he knew that it was definitely not a good idea. First, he wanted to ask some questions...

“Who dare enters my domain?” He retorted hauntingly, tensing his grip onto his scalpel in an attempt to steady his fractured mind. Speak softly love... He sang to himself in unison with the record playing quietly near him in an effort to try and have a civilized conversation with this strange man. This individual definitely was somewhat similar to the necromancer in certain levels which was why Allenhart was trying his best.

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Azoriat smirked watching the minions of Allenhart devour the man on the floor. Violence always made him feel at home. His eyes shifted back to the doctor once more. The man held power this much was true, judging by his creatures and the taste of his aura he could tell the doctor was a great necromancer.

He stepped closer to Allenhart holding his arms out wide as if to show he was unarmed. As he stepped closer he seemed almost to grow larger, his frame built solid. His smirk faded away, the time for games was over.

"I am Azoriat herald of Babylon, the raging fire, lord of the suffering, and witness to the fall of man."

He dropped his arms to his sides. There were many other titles he had carried throughout the centuries but those were the ones that mattered. Unlike some demons, Azoriat never hid beneath a mortal name, it was bad enough he was forced to wear this body.

" As to why I am here? I heard the suffering of this man and was led to you. Perhaps you should be more careful"

Azoriat adjusted his black silk suit jacket and watched the doctor. He was ready for any possibility. No matter the outcome Azoriat would win, he always did.

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Allenhart observed Azoriat’s movement carefully to hopefully ensure the crazed doctor focused on something else rather than attempting to slaughter this intruder. As he stood, Sheila approached cautiously, her protruding crown nuzzling against Allenhart’s fisted hand and clucked softly to her master, as if noticing his unbelievable fight of keeping his insane impulses in check. After the course of a few years, after each modification, Allenhart had began to falter from his hypnotic music’s affect and the Necromancer knew this, which intrigued him in the oddest of senses. He was going to have to soon another method of trying to keep him from doing something he would regret. This, was one of those times.

“That’s all? All right good, I thought you were Jehovah’s Witness.” The doctor huffed, the seeping cracks beginning to appear in his voice but he took a heavy breath as Sheila purred beside him, her large pit like eyes staring down the Demon before them. She opened her mouth slightly and allowed the mysterious man’s scent envelop his glands and for a moment, she released a low growl. She did not like what she smelt, and.

“Oh sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you up. It can get a little crazy in here if you know what I mean. So hard to keep them quiet sometimes.” He scolded from afar the tattered corpse in the dark and he then titled his head curiously to Azoriat. “Did you want to join the party or what? I don’t think you would just come down here to see my handiwork?”

The other lupine protectors encircled the two men, crouching down as if ready to strike at any moment however Allenhart knew he would not allow such a thing, at least... he hoped he wouldn’t.

“You want some tea, you look like a tea person, maybe even some poison? I have, well actually I have very little but I’m sure your starved from your journey?!” Allenhart babbled, strolling toward his splicing table with Sheila not that far behind.

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Azoriat sat in Allenhart's chair, crossing one leg over the other. He watched the doctor's creations curiously, this man's magic was strong. He wondered if perhaps he could enhance the dark power within Dr. Allenhart, would he want to?

"I require no refreshment Doctor nor do I need the distraction."

Azoriat's anger and rage boiled beneath him like a sleeping volcano, many times it was hard to contain himself. After thousands of years to practice it still was not one hundred percent. He sat in thought for a moment, he had not lied about the man's fear and pain leading him here but now there were other things capturing his attention.

Tell me... Do you know what I am?

He was testing the doctor, seeing how good his senses were, how strong his will. If Azoriat were to use him the doctor would need to prove himself.
Perhaps he would surprise Azoriat although most likely not. Azoriat had little patience for those that did not live up to his expectations.

"Your work interests me, I can think of a great many ways we could help one another."

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Allenhart halted beside his iron slab of execution as Azoriat addressed a question to the crazed Necromancer on wether he knew who or what he was. The thoughts that whizzed in his brain cluttered his fragile mind causing him great frustrations as he tried to discern between reality and his disturbed imagination. He could feel Azoriat’s domineering presence and Allenhart felt as if he was being strung up and involuntarily above a sinister flame, to burn within it it for all eternity. “A demon of great reprieve not doubt.” Allenhart could perceive the kindred equivalence that these two men shared; Azoriat was one that lived with cursed dead souls, using them as slaves and the Necromancer was one to use those tortured souls for his own bidding in the world above.

The insane doctor placed his single scalpel onto the table and began to wander again, gazing into his experimental jars as if he was a child searching for the best candy. Organs of all shapes and sizes were encased and Allenhart muttered softly. “My work? I haven’t heard such a comment in ages... actually I never expected anyone to find me down here so such a thought slipped my mind forever.” He huffed, remembering the last person that ever showed interest in his work had destroyed him human reputation. So, he decided to descend from the world above and stay down here where he was free to continue his studies for a better purpose.

“If you can bring me masses of corpses than you may have piqued my curiosity.” He latched his boney fingers around a jar and began to fiddle with the rotting piece inside, tilting the jar every which way to observe its contents more closely.

ooc; apologizes for blah post

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Azoriat listened to the doctor, it was clear his mind was damaged but that meant it would be easier to control him. He had determined Azoriat's nature, how very impressive. Azoriat pondered the man's proposal, this was not far from the arrangement he had thought up in his head.

"I am a Demon, yes. Bodies you shall have and plenty. But I expect results doctor. I will come to call on you in the future and when I do you will answer my call."

Azoriat stood and adjusted his suit walking toward the shadows slowly turning his back to the man. His hand went to his pocket grasping a silver coin. The weight of the coin grounded him, it's power fueled him. He would keep his end of the bargain, though he was a demon he kept his word strong. Now things were up to Allenhart would he pass this test or be fodder for Azoriat's army.

(sorry it's kinda short)

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Allenhart shot his silver eyes in the direction of his leaving visitor and raised and eyebrow from his rather sudden escort out of the room. He knew deals like this never were without a price and the doctor pondered what exactly his crazed maniacal mind had gotten himself into. If he had his proper sense, he knew there would be more apprehension in his agreement with Azoriat. However, he wondered if this demon would know something.

“Demon of Babylon.” His voice was strangely haunting, as if only for a few moments, he was retaining his original mind. He prepared his question which was deeply important to him and him alone. “Do you know if certain souls reside in hell... And could you find a living soul if I was to say, give you their last name?” He hoped there would be some luck in his search for the sinister family and their patriarch's whereabouts in the ground. “It’s for personal, vendetta reasons.”

Sheila peered at her master, her large black eyes seemed surprised by her creator’s sudden change in mood for she had rarely ever seen him like this and in her simple mind, she began to ponder wether it was about him and his family.

ooc: Sorry for bleh post. couldn’t think if what else to say hehe

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Azoriat stopped when the doctor called out to him. He did not turn to acknowledge the man. He was asking about souls in hell, a question mortals had asked him thousands of times. The doctor was now in Azoriat's grasp wheither he realized it or not. When you ask something of a Demon, you rarely get a happily ever after.

"once I call upon you and you have served me well I will reward you in turn Doctor. Soul's are currency in hell belonging to the demon which took them, they can be traded but usually at quite a cost. If I were to accomplish this you would pay greatly."

Azoriat stepped into the shadows which seemed to envelop his body. Within moments It was as if the Demon was never there, except for one small detail. Under the Doctor's tools lay a contract outlining their proposal and the doctor's request. The contract was penned in a mysterious ink upon ancient papyrus, it stank of sulfer and mold. At the bottom it carried a symbol, a man with a forked tongue surrounded by a snake eating it's own tail. All that was missing was the Doctor's signature, the contract hungered for blood.

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As he observed his visitor leave the premises, he glanced downward to his sacred iron slab, which he was rather stunned by the evil parchment resting there, beckoning him for his soul. Allenhart pondered a moment, questioning wether this was the finest proposition, especially since this demon would be in the winning party. However, the crazed doctor was stubborn, persistent and excelled in his work, probably considered a god of the art form. “Decisions, decisions...” He questioned, placing a curious finger to his chin while gazing to the ceiling as if expecting a response.

If he did, he could Matthias’ kin and kill that shit head’s family, especially that one...the one he saw all those years ago. The familiar blue eyes still tore at him and everyday he regretted not taking the chance to kill him. “Why not?” He bellowed, as if he was settling on a candy bar. “Always trust a smelly piece of paper right?” He chuckled, cutting a sliver of his skin and smearing its rotted form onto the parchment since he lacked a rather important piece in the puzzle: blood.

“Sheila! My dear what wrong love?” He sauntered over to his closest pet, stroking her rotted head as she whimpered in worry for her creator’s risky move. “Don’t worry, daddy is the best. Remember?” He stood from kneeling and began to dance crazily around the room, singing madly to himself. “I’m the best around, nothing gonna ever keep me down!”