Deon Hart's journey through life had been one defined by bloodshed and revenge. From the moment he drew his first breath, he had been thrust into a world of darkness, a world where the lines between good and evil blurred into a haze of uncertainty. He had sought vengeance against those who wronged him, those who had caused him untold suffering and pain. And in his quest for retribution, he had become a harbinger of death, a grim reaper stalking his prey through the shadows.
A disaster
But even as he laid waste to his enemies, Deon found no solace in their deaths. The weight of his sins bore down upon him like a crushing weight, dragging him deeper into the abyss of his own making. For each life he took, another layer of guilt was added to his burden, until it threatened to consume him whole.
But even this was not comparable to the hate he has for himself. The hate he consumed to become like this. He killed his loved ones, every time. He was the reason for every bad thing that happened. He was more of a demon than the demon king himself.
As Deon closed his eyes for what he believed would be the final time, he saw the crimson glow of the demon realm's moon.
Ah, right, he killed them, his parents, his brother, the emperor, duke, demon king and... himself. He would always be bound by these shackles.
He welcomed the embrace of death, longing for release from the endless cycle of suffering that had plagued him since the day he was born.
But when he opened his eyes once more, expecting to be greeted by the void of oblivion, he found himself in a place shrouded in death. Strange equipment littered the space around him, casting eerie shadows that danced across the grey walls like phantoms in the night.
'Where.'
And there, standing before him, was a man unlike any he had ever seen—a man with tanned skin, stark white hair that mirrored his own, and eyes as deep and black as the abyss itself. His presence was both unsettling and mesmerizing, radiating an aura of power that seemed to pulse in the air like a living thing.
Deon's heart hammered in his chest as he struggled to comprehend his surroundings. Was this some kind of afterlife? A realm between worlds where lost souls wandered in eternal torment? Or had he been cast into another hell altogether, doomed to suffer for all eternity?
The man regarded Deon with an inscrutable expression, his gaze piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sent shivers down Deon's spine. There was something otherworldly about him, something that defied explanation and sent a chill creeping down Deon's spine. Its been such a long time since he was scared.
"Who are you?" Deon's voice trembled as he spoke, the words barely a whisper in the oppressive silence.
The man's lips curved into a faint smile, though there was no warmth in his eyes. "My child, i am someone who looks after the lost souls." he replied, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within Deon's very bones.
' Lost souls? death? A God? I am really dead.'
Deon's thoughts raced like a machine, but before he could voice them, the man spoke again, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to press down upon Deon like a heavy blanket.
"I have watched you, Deon Hart," he said, his tone solemn. " I have seen the path you have walked upon. Do you have any idea how much karma you and your brother, Cruel, have."
Deon's breath caught in his throat as the memories of his past, his brother, flooded back with a painful clarity.
" Cruel, h-he, where is he! You are Death right! Tell me where my brother is!" It was bound to happen; a dam has been broken and endless sins are revealed.
" Calm down, my child. He is sa-
" I am not your child! " Before the God of Death could finish his sentence, he was silenced by a mere human. Death could only be silenced by his child, Cale, no one other.
The God of death wielded his formidable power, Deon felt himself frozen in place, unable to move. Tears welled in his eyes, cascading down his cheeks like silent rivers of sorrow. He listened in despair as Death spoke, his voice echoing with the weight of divine authority.
"Your brother is waiting for you," Death intoned solemnly, his gaze piercing through Deon's very soul. "But both of you carry a heavy burden of karma, a debt that must be repaid according to the laws of the divine."
Deon's heart clenched, he always brought misery to his people. Even after death. But he will not let this happen again.
And so, with trembling resolve, Deon made a decision that would change the course of his fate forever. He would make a deal with Death, offering to shoulder his brother's karma along with his own, in exchange for a heavier punishment.
"I will carry my brother's karma," Deon spoke, his voice barely a whisper in the oppressive silence.
" You will pay a heavy price."
" I don't care! Keep Cruel away from all of this!"
Death eyed the mortal in front of, even with a weak body, his soul is quiet strong.
"Very well then. But the price for this deal will not be very good for you."
"..." deon stayed silent, he was scared, he didn't want to suffer but cruel he couldn't let him suffer.
" Deal." Death smiled hearing the human and within seconds deon was out of that hell and brought to another hell or not.
" I hope you live peacefully in this life, Deon hart."
