A lonely figure sat on a golden throne, the throne was way bigger than the person, it was adorned in gold and full of red crystalls that illuminated the room the throne was.
The figure seemed lost in thoughts, after a while he let of a sigh, his expression was the definition of bored to death.
That figure was Ahriman, the demon lord, the one that reigns over all of hell, he rose to power in few centuries, he killed by himself all the Demon Lords before him taking full controll of hell, he was a respected and feared being.
He was known as a warmonger, a terrible killer, a demon so mighty that no one tried to oppose, or so was in the past.
Woth time he lost interest in blood and war, his once mighty army was now motionless, the cities that he once set on flame were now thriving, happiness was in the air.
This brought much discontent with him from the Demonic aristocracy, but no one dared to oppose.
...
'How long has it been?' Ahriman asked himself 'how long since I ended in this hell?'
The great Ahriman, the so called demon Lord in the past was nothing more than a simple human.
'That damn goodness told that we would all end in a fantasy world together where we would save its poor people, but I ended here,in this DAMN HELL' his punch broke a part of his throne, it was the thirteen time that this happened.
His gaze was lost in space remembering everything he had to overcome to stay alive, every scar, every time he had to eat a damned demon, every single time he had to look merciless and evil incarnate to not be killed by his own "allies".
He survived this long thanks to the energy that permeates Hell, that energy made him stronger, the more he killed the more his body changed, after the first century two long horns, they grew longer with time, also two big wings spurted from his back.
He was also able to use some magic, if you could call it that way, from his hand he could generate fire, and the fire listened to him, forming walls, he could also make rain fire.
After the first hundred years of endless carnage he became cold, all he wanted was power, so much power that he would be unkillable and after that he obtained nothing, his heart was void of everything.
What was the point of all that, in the end he stood on a throne made from the bodies of his enemies, he found out that not all demons were evil amoung them existed even some you could call the good ones.
But in the end he was left alone, his friends abandoned him, his army no longer listened to his orders and the even the people he ruled over started to hate him for his softness.
His eyes regained light when he heard the enormous door of his throne room opened, "who has the guts to come to the demon lord unnoticed ?" Ahriman asked his face taking a kingly look.
A trio of demons, one female and two males stood still, the one at the center stepped forward "We are here to kill you" he said his eyes looked at Ahriman menacingly.
Ahriman sighned "so you finally made up your mind, eh" his tone of scorn, a big dark blade flew in his right hand.
"Let's begin the dance" he sneered launching himself towards them ready to kill.