Many may wonder who or what, he is"
Yes, he may have no memory of his past life, or how he got here, his name, his age or that his Father was deviant of high abominable prowess....This man has no real memory to call his own"
Nothing, but perhaps the distant screams of fatality, the stench of decay and the burning embers of hellish flame licking around a tall, dark and looming shadow.
He arrived in this land in a hole, deep in the ground far in the country side. Smoke and fire danced all around him, a splitting head ache arching painfully through his brain. He turned his head to catch the blurred outline of his arm, of which was unlike anything human or anything he thought an arm should look like. It looked Demonic. He knew that much " the word, it simply looked Demonic.
But that voice; the voice that came with it, he could not shut it out or quiet it down. Every nerve in his body told him it was Malice in the purest form; that it was an evil he feared beyond any mortal comprehension.
He could tell it wanted him to become as cruel as its intended purpose; to kill, to allow Darkness to consume him and this world everlasting"
Though somehow he resisted, but the arm began to fight back on a level beyond that of the body. To force him yield; to break him in half.
No! He won't bend to its whim!
He knew little about himself, only a few rare flashes. One of his Father. One of a person, giving him the gift; the curse that is his arm.
The question was though, why was there a large gap in his memory' If his mind was intentionally wiped, Nero knew he had to try to find out who he was and where he had come from, and just who had done it to him. But that would prove to be harder than first speculated"
He dropped to a knee after walking five or so feet from the crater, the numbing pain of the internal voice hitting him; his arm pulsating pure heated pain. The vision of that shadow " that thing he just knew was his Father. It clouded his vision
He was standing in the haze upon the eve of battle, watching as he slain millions. Everything was moving in a strange fuzzy slow motion, his own movements blurred and slow in comparison to reality.
He saw people....Dead...Dying....He could see the black and blue swirl like figure standing next to him; the spirit of someone " something, evil"
The next vision was more painful than the obvious truth that his own Dad was a murderous swine. The swirled figure of his Father indicated with a motion of his hand to the woman that he knew. It was his own wife, standing on the edge of a cliff, as a knife plunged into her heart.
He was forced to watch; on his knees, eyes wide and tearing"
Falling beside the crater, he batted at his own head with his fists, roaring with vengeance on his mind" By just looking at him you knew he wanted the taste of blood upon the steel blade that was used to kill his wife.
He saw himself break free from sorrow, grabbing a sword.
He had killed the men that had killed his wife" But that wasn't enough! He wanted more! More blood " more deaths to make up for the pain he felt! He sliced them up, piece by piece, sending the bloodied dismembered parts back to the village of their origin in a wicker picnic basket....
He wanted to take from the soldiers that took from him " love, to take away the lives of those who brought suffering! The guards did not know, for they showed him....
That terrible night; in their sleep, the family of the two guards that were butchered by his own cruel hands, had been slowly butchered in the same gruesome fashion....How he laughed at their cries; their pleas, their tears!
He regained his vision, pushing himself from the ground as the vision continued to wrack into reality, confusing him. Enraged by what he saw; by what he was and what he had done, he groaned woefully.
He understood; even if caguely, the world was out to make him suffer; everyone and everything! But then, not if he could make the world suffer first; yes, that's perfect' Kill them all!
The first village he stayed at after his murderous vengeance was not there the next day. He had happened to it. His powers had happened. He walked out of the village while it blazed, dragging the corpse of a young girl he delightfully executed by the hair. Bodies lying everywhere; burnt and blackened by the inferno of hatred and malice....
He was gaining control of his powers more and more by the minute.....
This wasn't him, he couldn't had done these terrible things" Could he"
Looking down upon the small village like the one that had fallen before" He smiled, for the first time.
MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE MUST DIE! MORE!!!
Eradication! The people of this world must be purged!
He was reborn as his true self" A son of Darkness" A son of destruction'
Not sure if he was out of those terrible visions, in his madness Nero threw back his head and erupted into a maddened laughter.
Yes, he may have no memory of his past life, or how he got here, his name, his age or that his Father was deviant of high abominable prowess....This man has no real memory to call his own"
Nothing, but perhaps the distant screams of fatality, the stench of decay and the burning embers of hellish flame licking around a tall, dark and looming shadow.
He arrived in this land in a hole, deep in the ground far in the country side. Smoke and fire danced all around him, a splitting head ache arching painfully through his brain. He turned his head to catch the blurred outline of his arm, of which was unlike anything human or anything he thought an arm should look like. It looked Demonic. He knew that much " the word, it simply looked Demonic.
But that voice; the voice that came with it, he could not shut it out or quiet it down. Every nerve in his body told him it was Malice in the purest form; that it was an evil he feared beyond any mortal comprehension.
He could tell it wanted him to become as cruel as its intended purpose; to kill, to allow Darkness to consume him and this world everlasting"
Though somehow he resisted, but the arm began to fight back on a level beyond that of the body. To force him yield; to break him in half.
No! He won't bend to its whim!
He knew little about himself, only a few rare flashes. One of his Father. One of a person, giving him the gift; the curse that is his arm.
The question was though, why was there a large gap in his memory' If his mind was intentionally wiped, Nero knew he had to try to find out who he was and where he had come from, and just who had done it to him. But that would prove to be harder than first speculated"
He dropped to a knee after walking five or so feet from the crater, the numbing pain of the internal voice hitting him; his arm pulsating pure heated pain. The vision of that shadow " that thing he just knew was his Father. It clouded his vision
He was standing in the haze upon the eve of battle, watching as he slain millions. Everything was moving in a strange fuzzy slow motion, his own movements blurred and slow in comparison to reality.
He saw people....Dead...Dying....He could see the black and blue swirl like figure standing next to him; the spirit of someone " something, evil"
The next vision was more painful than the obvious truth that his own Dad was a murderous swine. The swirled figure of his Father indicated with a motion of his hand to the woman that he knew. It was his own wife, standing on the edge of a cliff, as a knife plunged into her heart.
He was forced to watch; on his knees, eyes wide and tearing"
Falling beside the crater, he batted at his own head with his fists, roaring with vengeance on his mind" By just looking at him you knew he wanted the taste of blood upon the steel blade that was used to kill his wife.
He saw himself break free from sorrow, grabbing a sword.
He had killed the men that had killed his wife" But that wasn't enough! He wanted more! More blood " more deaths to make up for the pain he felt! He sliced them up, piece by piece, sending the bloodied dismembered parts back to the village of their origin in a wicker picnic basket....
He wanted to take from the soldiers that took from him " love, to take away the lives of those who brought suffering! The guards did not know, for they showed him....
That terrible night; in their sleep, the family of the two guards that were butchered by his own cruel hands, had been slowly butchered in the same gruesome fashion....How he laughed at their cries; their pleas, their tears!
He regained his vision, pushing himself from the ground as the vision continued to wrack into reality, confusing him. Enraged by what he saw; by what he was and what he had done, he groaned woefully.
He understood; even if caguely, the world was out to make him suffer; everyone and everything! But then, not if he could make the world suffer first; yes, that's perfect' Kill them all!
The first village he stayed at after his murderous vengeance was not there the next day. He had happened to it. His powers had happened. He walked out of the village while it blazed, dragging the corpse of a young girl he delightfully executed by the hair. Bodies lying everywhere; burnt and blackened by the inferno of hatred and malice....
He was gaining control of his powers more and more by the minute.....
This wasn't him, he couldn't had done these terrible things" Could he"
Looking down upon the small village like the one that had fallen before" He smiled, for the first time.
MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE MUST DIE! MORE!!!
Eradication! The people of this world must be purged!
He was reborn as his true self" A son of Darkness" A son of destruction'
Not sure if he was out of those terrible visions, in his madness Nero threw back his head and erupted into a maddened laughter.