A Couple Million Years or so Ago - The First Layer of Hell
I stepped through the tall, iron gates. This was my final chance to be king. I had made it to one of the Final rounds in the Tournament of kings and I wasn't going to die in vaine just yet.
The Arena was huge, and had stands rising higher and larger than that of the Roman Colluseum. The ground was a dry dirt, the color of sand. The arena itself was that of sandstone, and only its base was a deep granite color. Thousand upon thousands of demonic and infernal spectators cheered. Their thunder made the great colluseum shake.
Across the Arena, a gate similar to mine opened up. Out of it stepped a huge figure. He had to be at least seven feet tall, with great, red ram horns that curled around his pink skull. He was adored in a long red robe, that was embedded with many runes in black thread. The color of the coat came up past his chin in a sharp 'V', like some sort of alien dress. My first impression was that this guy was such a flaming homosexual, it wasn't even funny. His skin was a light pink, his eyes a deadly read, and his coat a fabulous design.
After his first few steps from the gate, he began to cast a spell. As he cast, some of th runes of his coat began to glow. As he cast, I drew my two scimitars and kissed each of their blades. Serve me well, Torture and Wrath. Those were the names of my swords- Torture, or Cruicio, and Wrath, it's artifact name being Iratos. Crucio was the deep red glowing scimitar, and Iratos was the scimitar the glowed with both black and red mist. Bloodletter would be my last resort, for when I got close to my combatant and ready to kill him.
He finished his spell and before all of our eyes (for there were thousands of spectators) the seven foot tall humanoid turned into a fifty foot tall Balor. With giant leather wings, and horns of a bull, the Balor roared with all his might and drew the largest of whips. It's end flamed with sickening spikes, that burned with a pinkish-orange fire.
This demon was Asmodeus, one of the most Powerful devils in all the land. He too had made it to the final round, and now it as I who stood in his way. We were both here to become King of the lower planes, and we both wanted to kill the other to do so.
I turned my black, bladed boots and began to sprint in Asmodeus's direction. As I charged, the devil laughed and marched my way as well. I knew I looked odd- being a small, miniscule humanoid charging rapidly at some beast fifty times my size with only two dark swords in my hands. I had done it over and over, killing devil after demon with my odd style of fighting. By now, the spectators respected me. By now, they feared me.
My wings burst from my back and I flew up into the air. Asmodeus's whip cracked in my direction, and I dove away from its flaming sting. As I barrel rolled through the hot, hellish air, Asmodeus's claw came up from the other direction of his one-handed whip and at me. The one thing about gigantic size was the bigger you are, the slower you are. It's why I kept myself small.
I plunged toward the devil's leather chest, with swords bared. I slammed into the beast, plunging the powerful blades through the tough skin, and clinging to him with the great horns that came at the folds of my wings (like the claws of a bat, but better).
As the magic ricochetted through his torso, Asmodeus roared and raked his own chest, ripping me and my affects off of him and sending up flying. The magical bubble that protected the spectators bounced me off it itself and sent me tumbling across the dusty ground. I felt a crack in my human leg as I landed awkwardly.
I tumbled for a while, but eventually came to a quiet stop. This was my first time facing Asmodeus, and my first time seeing his skills and strength. The one good thing about being gigantic was the exponential increase in strength and weight. As the great ebon shadows lumbered for me and my crumpled human form, I stirred and tried to untwist my snapped leg.
