Whisper Not The Name Of Madness (Part 1)

By Fallen Seraph


In Heaven:

Blandine gazed sorrowfully down at the shattered, discord ridden angel before her. for the past three days it had done nothing but whimper, sob, and shudder.

"Have you found her companions?" the white lady demanded of the malakite behind her.

"Not yet Milady." came the subdued reply "We fear they are prisoners in Beleth's realm."

"Curse him! how much more suffering? how much more pain? Damn him!" blandine's voice was breaking with anguish. "Curse Him, and Curse his mother!"

The broken angel stirred, and muttered. few words were intelligable. amongst them was a name...


On earth:

The doctor did his best to console the woman who was sobbing into his lab-coat.

"We'll take the very best care of him, don't worry. he's in the best hands. I promise"

Behind them, through the inch thick glass of the Padded cell's window, a man lay, curled in a foetal position. the walls covered in ramblings and symbols and long-dead languages. Amongst the rabid scrawlings, one word could be made out, repeated over and over and over.


In Hell:

in the labyrinthine tunnels of pandemonium, there is a room. it is not a large room, and it's walls are covered in distorting mirrors. In this room sits a throne of amber. trapped in it's crystaline fabric, there are creatures so hideous the eye refuses to fully see them out of fear for the mind's health.

Upon this throne, wearing a top-hat and tails, and gazing intently into the crystal on the top of his cane, there is a Demon Prince.

If you strain your ears past the heavy silence, and listen, just so, you can hear the voices whisper a name...


The Demon Prince of Madness smiles. It is not a pleasant smile...


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