A chuckle,
Did you hear that, Melchior? That man I killed was a noble! The chuckle slowly grew to an insane laugh,
A noble! And for that tomorrow I will be executed! Finally, you can hold me for no longer. I have bested you, demon!A slow grumble echoed back, and grew to a horrid shrill voice,
Samael, you are a fool. For you know just as well as I that you can survive this night, and that you are compelled to. I will let you die when I have deemed it time, and that will be on my time, boy! Call the guard over and feign sickness. When he opens your cell break his neck and escape. My metal form lies not but twenty feet from you. Find me, continue your quest. You know that you must. THE PIT DEMANDS ITS DUE.The jail cell on the fourth floor of the guard tower was briefly illuminated by a stroke of lightening from the oncoming storm. Samael laid out on his provided bedroll, anguishing over what he knew he must do. Why could he not summon the willpower to defy his master? Why would any sane man make such a bond with a demon? He knew not the answers to these questions. He only knew that the demon Melchior was right, and that he would escape this night.
He slowly got to his feet and approached the bars of his cell. A moment he stood there, feeling the cold metal in his hands and relishing this peaceful moment while it lasted. He gripped his stomach and lurched forward, crying out in agony for a guard and began stepping back from the bars.
From around the corner to his left a series of grumbling voices echoed, and then foot steps approached his cell. "What is it murderer, conscience hurt?" Samael gave no response but cried louder, and gripped his stomach with feigned desperation. "Prisoner, I have had this joke played on me before and it will take a great thespian to make me believe that you are truly in pain."
Melchior could see that this guard was no fool, and knew that he would have to make the jest slightly more real. Summoning was power he could to affect the real world from his metal form, he sent a wave of abyssal energy into Samael's lungs. Samael convulsed and began to cough blood onto the cell floor,
Ke-ke-ke, you're welcome, elf.Lightening flashed once more reflecting sick light off of the blood, and the guard began to fumble for his keys. "Hold on knife-ears, you'll get to the executioner yet," he clicked the lock and let the door swing outwards as he took three quick steps into the cell to be near the crumpled elven form.
Now, Samael, strike!Pain. Anguish. Fear. Sadness. All things vanished from his face as his hands shot up and grabbed a hold of both the crown and jaw of the guard's head. He let out a yelp of surprise, and after several struggling moments crumpled down lifeless.
Good, Samael. That soul is yours, my appetite can not have what my metal form does not touch.Silence demon. Sounds of fumbling from around the corner as the other two guards sprang to their feet to investigate the commotion. The burst onto the scene to find the cell empty, save for the corpse of their comrade. They stood for a moment in stunned silence.
"F-f-find him! Alert the entire watch! The prisoner has escaped!" Little did they know that directly above them, braced against the wall and the bars of his cell, hiding in the darkness Samael watched them and prayed that he would not be compelled to kill them to survive. "Go!" one guard shouted to the other, and they both sprang to action, fleeing from the fourth floor of the guard tower with haste to sound the alarm.
Good job, Samael. Now, retrieve me and your belongings in the next room with haste so we can be off under the cover of darkness!Samael slowly slipped down from his hiding spot amongst the cobwebs and glanced at the man he had just killed in cold blood.
"Yes, my master."
