“You will wait here,” hissed a hisskan; they all looked the same to me. Their scales were rank with death, their breath reaked of flesh.
Benny gagged.
We did not protest as we were pushed into anti-chamber. A symphony of agony was all about us. Cries of pain, shrill shreaks of fear and torment echoed in the halls.
I felt at home; at peace. For too long had I run.
“What do i have to do?” asked Benny. He was anxious. I, for one, envied him. To see Demonias for the first time, for me, had been an overwhelming experience.
“For me to have my audience with The Dark Lord, I must offer him a gift: You. And you must accept the gift that I will bestow upon you.”
“To become a Hunted!” Benny nodded, getting it, finally.
“Yes. From this day forward, you will be hunted throughout Demonias’ realms and should you elude them, your death, at two minute till midnight, will be swift. By the strike of midnight you will undergo The Awakening.”
Benny frowned, “And it will start all over again!”
“Yes!”