The fearsome and mighty Hell hounds, spreaders of despair and consumer of souls, cowered in fear at the sight of the mad Demon in White. Drenched in blood, his once pure white armour was barely showing a hint of white beneath the red.
The severed head of one of their kin still hung from its arm, teeth sunk deep into the prey. Yet where everything cowered before their teeth and their soul ripping abilities, this Demon seemed to feel nothing at all.
He truly was a soulless Demon from the depths of hell. Although they were named after such a place, they had never even seen the supposed underworld, never mind felt its influence on them. Perhaps this... this was their punishment for daring to take the name of Hell onto themselves. Perhaps this was Hell sending one of their own to show them what a real beast of Hell should be like, and how utterly worthless they were in comparison.
