The Throne of Bones was a room that would break the minds of those who entered into its chamber.
The walls were made up of thousands of skulls of humans and demons alike. Their hollow sockets stared outward in eternal silence. Heavy, thick, rusted chains hung from the skull bone-lined walls, some still had demons and humans bound in them by their wrists. Their bodies sagged in exhaustion from torment they were inflicted. Their bodies ruined by time and suffering, skin and meat hung from their bodies showing the bones that lay beneath. Some had both eye sockets that were hollow, while some had their eyes hanging down out of them. Their mouths hung open in an eternal, frozen scream of agony.
The bone-lined walls had visible claw marks embedded in them from the futile attempts of those that had been bound in chains trying in vain to desperately escape the torture that they were being inflicted upon.
The River of Eternal Entrapment flowed underneath the glass floor, it's brilliant bright green glow lit up the room to show it's sickly, grotesque makeup that it held. Souls writhed within it, their forms distorted by corruption, their screams of agony and wails of desperation echoing off the glass, they clawed angrily at the underside of the glass that separated them from those who walked on it. Desperately trying to get their hands and claws on the life force that they hungered for, wanting to grab a hold of any who might wander too closely to its waters to pull and devour their souls. Their bitter, agony filled cries reverberating through the chamber like a chorus of despair.
The air was ice-cold.
Skeletal soldiers of demons and humans stood motionless along the walls and stationed at the entrance, unmoving until commanded. Their armor they wore was ancient, their hollow gazes fixed forward, waiting.
Hellhounds whose bodies looked to be charred and burnt black, that had lime green lava seen flowing through their cracked skin, lounged lazily on either side of the throne, their massive forms drapes across the floor. Their eyes glowed green, their teeth larger than mortal canines hung out over their bottom lip and green saliva dripped from their mouths.
And at the center of the massive room sat the throne itself - a monstrous creation carved into the open jaws of a colossal serpent. It's fangs hung like ivory swords from the upper jaw, and it's slitted eyes seemed alive, as though the creature still watched every soul that dared approach.
Wycked sat upon it with effortless dominance. He was leaning back with one elbow resting on the arm of the throne, his hand bracing against the side of his head. A wicked, sinister smile curved his handsome face, revealing his fangs.
The Throne of Bones doors were opened by it's skeletal guards that stood on either side of them and the newly made demon came walking inside, making his way to kneel before Lord Wycked.
Sycotic's attention was instantly drawn to the figure that was standing beside the throne.
Lord Vishious. The shadows clung to him as though they worshiped him, sliding across his form like living ink. He wore black from throat to boot, the fabric absorbing the dim light of the chamber. His presence was cold, elegant, and terrifyingly beautiful - a contrast to Wycked's wrathful, corrupted aura. Sycotic found himself staring, unable to ignore how striking the man who was standing next to Lord Wycked's Throne was, how perfectly carved his features seemed, how the darkness bent toward him as if he were it's rightful master.
Vishious stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture relaxed but commanding. His eyes - sharp, predatory, unreadable - were fixed on Sycotic. He did not blink. He did not shift. He simply just stood there next to the throne - watching. As though evaluating the newly- made demon that was kneeling before them.
Wycked notice Sycotic's brief glance toward his brother and let out a soft, amused exhale. Sycotic, realizing his error in front of Lord Wycked, quickly snapped his eyes to look down on the ground before him. "Forgive me for my insolence, My Lord." Sycotic quickly asked. He stayed kneeling before the throne and kept his head bowed as he spoke.
Wycked responded to Sycotic's apology saying, "The one standing before you is Lord Vishious, my brother and the one who rules this realm with me. You will serve us both." His voice was low but every word he spoke was heard clearly. He then ordered Sycotic saying, "Raise your head!"
The demon obeyed immediately, bringing his head up to look up at Lord Wycked and Lord Vishious before him. He stayed kneeling down on one knee because he had not been given permission to stand.
Vishious' lips curved into the faintest smirk - cold, observing, dangerous. "Sycotic." Wycked leaned forward, his voice curling through the chamber like smoke. "You begged for purpose, to serve me and you begged for me to take your soul and turn you into a demon to serve me for eternity."
Vishious stepped closer, the shadows following him like loyal pets. His gaze sharpened, studying Sycotic with a mixture of curiosity and cruel expectation. Sycotic was their newest instrument. Wycked continued, his tone low and commanding obedience. "Hear well, your first command." The chamber darkened as though the walls themselves leaned in, interested to hear what their Lord would be commanding this newly-made demon to do.
"You will go to the other realm, the Realm of the Living," Wycked said. "You will walk among them, choosing a village - you will enter into it and corrupt it. You will harvest its souls. You will extinguish its hope, it's existence. You will leave it in ruins and once night settles upon the Realm of the Living, the Crazed Feeders and the Deranged Demons that you'll have under your command can satisfy their gluttonous appetites and feast upon the dying." Wicked's smile widened.
Vishious spoke then, and Sycotic was quick to give him his full attention, his voice smooth and cold. "You will break it from the inside. You will begin marking the lands, giving those of the Living Realm a sign of our coming. A Promise of what we intend to take." Vishious stepped to the edge of the glass floor, the fluorescent Green Glow of the river beneath him casting an Eerie light across his face as he finished speaking.
Wycked rose from the Throne of Bones, and went to stand directly in front of the demon, towering over Sycotic. "You will make them tremble, you will make their souls become corrupt and lost." He said. He then snapped his fingers and the noise echoed off the walls, loud and sharp. A moment later the great doors once again opened and a demon entered inside and came to stand before Wycked, immediately kneeling down in front of him, kneeling right beside Sycotic.
"Insidyus will serve you well but he'll only be able to come to you once the sun has set." Wycked informed. The demon who was kneeling down next to Sycotic had the broad, familiar frame of a man, but his massive, muscular arms were sheathed in Black scales with a deep red Sheen. The demon had a dragon's head, it's black horns curved upward and twisted with smaller spikes protruding from them. Four eyes lined either side of his long, reptilian snout, arranged vertically; each was black, split by a narrow red slit. Massive black fangs protruded over his lower jaw. Enormous dragon wings spread from his back, they're thick, powerful limbs supporting broad membranes of black, red - veined skin. The wings drooped down at his sides, each one line with long, curved bones that stretched from the joints to the ragged edges.
Just then a musical whistle came for Vishious that he changed the pitches and flow of as he did it, making it hypnotizing and left a trance like feeling on any who heard it. When he stopped it fell completely silent and soon the shadows seemed to start twisting and churning like snakes behind where Vishious stood. Soon releasing a dark, shadowy form to emerge from them, before shrinking back to their original state. The creature took a couple steps before kneeling down on one knee and bowing his head deeply behind Vishious.
"Hawnter will also serve you." Vishious added. "Hawnter, stand so that Sycotic can see who will be serving him." Vishious ordered. The creature loomed like a towering mass of shadow, it's skeletal frame only partially visible beneath the darkness that clung to it. It's bright yellow eyes burned from the hollows of its face, as if fixed on its next meal. A jagged grin revealed Rows of sharp teeth, while it's long, hooked claws curled eagerly at its side, ready to tear into anything within reach.
Vishious' voice followed, soft and lethal. "And you will bring the Realm of the Living knowledge that it's time is ending." Sycotic bowed his head deeply, touching his forehead to the ice cold floor.
"My Lord's," he said, voice steady and hollow. "Your will is my purpose. Your command is my pleasure. And to serve you both is my honor."
Wycked and Vishious exchanged a look - a silent agreement, a shared satisfaction, a shared growing hunger. Wicked lifted a hand. "Go, Sycotic. Begin the fall of the living!" Said Wycked in a voice of death.
And Vishious added, his voice a whisper of shadow: "Make them ours!"
These two Demon Lords despised the Living Realm with equal intensity. They despised all who belonged to it, all who inhabited it, especially the mortals. The fragile, worthless creatures who dared believe themselves safe and powerful. Together, the brothers had long dreamed of claiming the realm for themselves, corrupting it, reshaping it, making it.. There's.