Fallen Honor

An Unknown Origin

Aaaand back with Fallen Honor!

Personally, I think this chapter is kiiiinda poorly done...I may come back and make some edits, but for right now, enjoy my suffering

Vote and comment on what you like most, please!

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RECAP

          The immortal seethed as he stalked towards the man's prone form. It was good he had not gone over the cliff, it would have been a real nuisance to have to catch him.

          The human just had to know something. He had to, there was some reason the being had not been able to kill him, and the demon was going to get it, even if it was whispered with the human's last dying breaths.

END RECAP 

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          Steve's breath hitched as he heard the immortal's heavy boots stomp towards him. What had he said wrong? How had he angered the being? A weight smashed into his lower back, and Steve let out a strangled yelp, coughing and crying out again when the demon ground in his heel, making it harder to breathe. Steve stiffened when the icy sharpness of the pickax suddenly rested on his temple.

          "You're going to tell me what I want to know, mortal, even if you must scream it out as I slowly hack off your limbs to get it. Have. You. Spoken. With. The. Creator." The immortal punctuated his sentences with a harsh stamp, causing Steve to give out jerky wails at every crushing blow.

          Steve coughed, struggling to breathe in spite of the heavy weight, "N-no, please, I haven't...I-I've seen h-him f-from...far off, a-as we marched b-before the Capital...be-before we went...to battle."

          The demon growled lowly, causing Steve to flinch, "I-if you...could j-just tell m-me what you...you-re trying to figure out...I may b-be able to help more..."

          A large hand gripped the back of his neck and yanked him to his feet, not letting go. Steve inhaled sharply, "Gah!" as his bruised ribs and stomach stretched. He closed his eyes, expecting to be thrown over the cliff. A sudden, sickening sensation flowed over him, his stomach churned, and his body felt as if he was laying on ice and on fire at the same time. Two cyan flashes followed in quick succession.

          The hand released him, and he crumbled to the ground silently on his right side, too sick to stand. He blinked his blue eyes open, and a low, red light hit them, causing them to sting. The soldier hissed, closing them again, waiting for his eyes to adjust after being away from light for so long.

          Heavy footsteps led away from him, and Steve forced his eyes open, though one was quickly swelling shut, blinking hard, forcing his pupils to adjust faster. His blurry vision cleared, and he gaped in awe at his surroundings.

          He was lying in a massive cavern, illuminated by a few redstone torches, known for their energy, not their light. The ceiling was so high, it disappeared into the darkness, though a few stalactites were lit up as they hung down like massive teeth. The floor was jagged and uneven, stalagmites jutting up like massive pillars. Not three blocks in front of him was a raised platform, with naturally formed steps leading up to what looked like a throne of sorts. The throne was made of a raised, smooth seat surrounded by the same spikes that had trapped him to the cave wall during his first few hours of being a prisoner.