Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

The Eighth was a serial killer who murdered for the pleasure of it. He was addicted to watching the life of others drain from their eyes. In Hell, he is forced to watch his own life drain from his own eyes over and over again within his circle of mirrors. He has no regrets.

*          *

Harrissa and Michael had set up Hagur’s tomb with all the medical supplies from the Village, everything from operating tables and surgical equipment to medication. There wasn’t much, but Hagur didn’t want clutter anyway. “This is all well and good, but without freshly sterilized syringes I’m afraid I cannot be of much help to anyone.”

A skeleton wearing a trench coat opened it revealing dozens of syringes. “Need syringes,” the skeleton interrupted. “I cannot guarantee they are sterile, but that’s nothing a little boiling water won’t fix, eh friend?”

A tall man wearing old torn up formal robes shoved the skeleton away, “careful around the skeletons, they’ll pinch every penny from your pocket if you let them,” he said. Then he smiled, “I am Master Kuldir.” As he went to shake Hagur’s ghostly hand, Harrissa bumped into him.

Kuldir looked at Harrrissa, and she saw that half his face had decomposed and several of his muscles and tendons were showing all over his body, “Are you a?”

Kuldir chuckled before Harrissa could finish her question,“Yes, I am a zombie,” he replied with a smile, “ I promise not to eat your brains.” The friendly comment did not comfort Harrissa, however, she was raised to respect all Dead, so it didn’t bother her much either. “I’d like to welcome you all to Necromourne since she will be your home until Lord Reaven has finished up here. Do not worry about your world, when Necromourne leaves it will be as though we were never here.”

“Necromourne?” Harrissa questioned.

“The city of the Dead,” Kuldir replied. “Come let me show you around, it is not every day that our Goddess, even as her past self, visits us here. Tis an honor, my lady,” he looked at Zesrial, smiled and bowed down. Harrissa and Michael, Zesrial and Snow, and Pip and Droirra all followed Kuldir out into the necropolis which now housed the world they were on.

“See if Necromourne’s vendors have any sterilized syringes while you’re out, Harrissa,” Hagur shouted as the group left.

Zesrial stopped Snow at the door, “put these on first,” she handed Snow a dress and a pair of buckle shoes. Snow’s eyes widened as tears grew within them, “I can grab something else if you don’t like it.”

“No!” Snow grabbed the dress and shoes with a big smile and closed tear-filled eyes, “I love them, thank you.” Then she bowed and, without another word, went to put on her new clothes.”

*          *

Then Ragdiul, the Archdemon of Deception, laughed maniacally as he literally kicked Edward Dimir’s ass sending him flying through the Gate of the Seventh. Dolan followed shortly after. As the gate sealed in Edward’s teal snowfire behind them, Edward stood up and shouted, “I’ll be back for a rematch! “Call me predictable?” he muttered under his breath.

“Edward,” Dolan interrupted.

“What?” Edward asked in reply, Dolan raised an eyebrow. Then Edward noticed he was standing upright, “Oh, Finally,” he said as he stretched and cracked his back. “Where are we now?”

They had found themselves inside an old wooden building filled with operating tables and well-organized disemboweling tools. “I recently became blind,” Dolan replied glaring at Edward with empty eye holes, “your guess will be better than mine.”

“Looks like a torture chamber and a doctor’s office in one,” said Edward. “There’s even a large blade on a pendulum set up above one of the operating tables over there.”

“Leaning more towards torture chamber,” Dolan commented. Edward walked closer to an operating table and looked into it. It was like a mirror, but as he stared at his own reflection it slowly and then violently began to change. He watched his own fur become matted and worn as his mouth dried up and his eyes slowly turned a solid and empty black. “Edward?!” Dolan had been trying to get Edward’s attention for an hour, but Edward had remained silent.

“Sorry,” Edward snapped out of his trance and looked back into the operating table. He could no longer see his reflection, “be happy you can no longer see,” he replied, ever so slightly, traumatized by the vision. “Do you need help getting around?”

“No, I can manage,” Dolan walked passed Edward, around every obstacle, and to a door. He tried it, it was locked, “you give it a try.”

“You cannot see where you are, but you know where you are going?” Edward questioned as he tried the door handle. “It won’t budge,” he located where the bolt of the lock was and put his right index finger on it before realizing, “that’s right, the Sixth has that one.” He put another finger to the doorframe, where the bolt was. The six-inch retractable claw easily broke the door’s lock. The door creaked loudly as it opened, “blind Sergals with brightly glowing Wyyverns on their shoulders first,” Edward casually put a paw-like hand on Dolan’s back to guide him forward.

*          *

“Where did you get that sword?” Droirra asked Pip.

“It belonged to Hell,” Pip replied. “I thought you were Dead.”

“Michael brought me back,” replied Droirra. “Your new god into Rams?” she noticed the symbols on his new armor.

“He is an Iron Ram,” Pip replied. “You worship the dead cat?” he asked Droirra.

“He is a Sabertooth cat and a lich lord,” Droirra replied.

“Thank you for the introduction,” 999 interrupted. “I like the concept behind you Warpriests and may have a proposition for you if you are interested.”

 

*          *

Finding themselves in a long and dark hallway, Edward and Dolan kept moving. The walls, ceiling, and floor were each one long mirror. Edward’s eyes widened, “I envy you, blind man.” Then he couldn’t find Dolan, “not again.” The mirrors around him showed the same thing he had seen in the operating table. As he watched his own flesh decay and his bones rot until his reflection became a pile of dust, he felt a strange comfort, a rest he had been denied until now. Then a burning pain rose from within him as the pile of ashes within the mirrors burst into flames, and he saw himself as Hell again. Though still in his mortal form, he could feel Hell. He looked down the hall and saw a door at the end. He walked towards it, put his paw to the handle, and then heard a voice from behind.

“You could stay here,” the voice said to Edward. “In rest. At peace. You no longer need to suffer, child.” Edward turned and found himself on an operating table and unable to move. Standing over him was a figure wearing a mask and goggles and holding a scalpel and light.  “Just one cut and it will all be over” the figure whispered.

Edward looked for a way out and saw a rope holding the pendulum in place. It was less than six inches from his paw-like feet, “If only I had,” he said sarcastically, “Oh wait…” He cut the rope, and the massive blade on the end of the pendulum swung down, cutting the figure in half. Then he noticed the pendulum was getting closer and closer with each swing.

“Out of the frying pan?” asked the figure from an unknown location. “Why go through it all? Look around you,” Edward did and saw an uncountable number of mirrors each showing Edward a different death. “This is barely a fraction of the ways you will die during your eternity as the Wyyvern Knight of Deceit.”

“You must be the Eighth,” Edward interrupted. He kept an eye on the pendulum as he looked for a way to untie himself.

“Just one death here, and you’ll rest forever,” the Eighth continued. “Let someone else challenge the Committer of 700 Deadly Sins. You need not endure the pain.”

“Pain isn’t all bad, it makes you stronger,” Edward replied. Then he noticed another rope he hadn’t before, and it was inches from the first rope he cut. The rope held the massive blade was attached to and Edward realized, “I almost cut the wrong rope a moment ago,” as he sighed with relief. Then he waited for the pendulum to be at the height of its swing before cutting the rope, but the rope was long, and the pendulum swung down toward Edward.

*          *

Snow flew about happily, and Zesrial watched her from a bench until she flew back to her, “It looks so cool when I fly around with it,” she said excitedly as she played in her new dress.

“I’m glad you like it,” Zesrial replied.

“You worry about him, don’t you?” Snow sat down next to Zesrial. “If he falls, even once, during the trials of the Nine he will lose his Wyyvern rank, and you will never see him again. The Nine will be free, and all will be lost.” Zesrial looked at Snow with tear-filled wide eyes, Snow just smiled back, “Stop worrying,” she giggled. “Teal snowfire follows him, and all behind him has frozen over. So have some faith, ok.”

Zesrial wiped the tears from her eyes, “why did you start crying when I gave you that dress?”

Snow gave Zesrial a hug, “I haven’t worn clothes since before I was sacrificed.” She squeezed Zesrial tight and cried into her armor, “It’s just been so long.”

*          *

Edward opened his eyes expecting to have died but instead found himself still strapped to the operating table. The pendulum had landed just beside the table he was on. He sighed with relief and then heard a sound like metal dragging across wooden floorboards. He looked towards the sound and watched the Eighth swing the massive blade around and down at his neck. Upon impact with Edward’s chainmail scarf, the massive blade shattered completely, “why would you not remove this first?”

“I tried to, but it growled at me,” the Eighth replied. “What’s it made of?”

“It was a chainmail scarf that my father had given to me long ago,” Edward replied. “now it is the Arcadium, an entire Realm thanks to Victor.”

Suddenly Edward’s straps broke, and he was free, “What?!” the Eighth questioned. “How?”

“Honestly, I am as confused as you are right now,” Edward replied. Then disks of water formed around the Eighth, spinning him around like a top. “Are the disks the only thing you can make?”

“Yes,” Dolan replied. “Now headbutt him so we can move on. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Iron!” Edward wound up.

“Wait,” the Eighth demanded. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Ram!” the shock wave from Edward’s headbutt destroyed the wooden building they were in. Dolan dropped the Eighth’s body, and the two stepped forth, immediately causing the floor beneath them to collapse.