A broken bone limited the movement of his right arm as he stumbled through the violent forest. He threw his weight into his gate and broke twigs and small branches alike in his wake. Barely sixteen years of age, Aloysius faltered forwards and caught himself with his good, but not dominant hand against a tree. His knees trembled and his body ached, he was cold, and defeated. He'd barely escaped with his life, and he'd never felt so weak. The village was not far, and he knew it was his only chance of survival. With his palm pressed against the rough bark of the tree, Aloysius howled out a growling scream with a tossed head and throbbing veins. He did this, because he knew he was going to die here; he knew, because he would not go back.

Tendrils of darkness snaked across the forest floor towards his feet, and though it made not a sound in the approaching night, he sensed them. Aloysius' head lifted, and he stared at the wooden pattern of the tree. "Who is that?" he asked in a weak, raspy voice. His hand folded into a fist scratching up the tender skin of beaten knuckles on the splintered wood. He turned, gazing upon the intruder. It was a figure not masculine nor feminine, looking over Aloysius with shaded eyes. Did it have a face" "Who the f*ck are you?"

The voice that came from the shrouded hole spoke to him, a noise that was barely a hissing whisper and sounded unisexual, "You are angry...and weak...and dying. Pride is holding you back....Pride will be your demise," it spoke and turned away from him. Shadows burst up from the ground, and wrapped the figure's body as it seemed to think things over, or perhaps rethink them.

"I have a lot to be angry for..." Aloysius said, and turned his eyes away, opting to stare at the dirty forest floor. "Who the hell do you think you are, anyways" If you're here to kill me, then do it. If you're not, then get the hell away from me," he warned as he fell down to a knee and held his side. "It's not like your work is cut out for you," he added with a scoff.

"I came here," it hissed and turned back to him. Shadow flowed off of it, lashed out like ink drops within water, like black smoke that poisoned the air around them. "To help you, but....It seems you are beyond help. It is power that you seek, but you are not ready....You will die before you are ready."

Aloysius coughed and looked up at the ashy figure, glowered at it and turned his eyes away. He would not beg, though he wanted to. Though his body ached for salvation and his heart yearned for power. "I'm ready." Aloysius would say with confidence. His voice was but a low mumble as he looked up at the creature, but it was fierce with sternness.

"Are you?" It questioned with a dark gaze, its body twisting sickeningly as it leaned down to gaze at him, inspecting his confident features with an amusement that couldn't be seen. Despite how much he narrowed, squinted, and focused his eyes, Aloysius could not make out any features beneath the shadow that the hood casted, though it was a mere foot from his face. "The power that I can give will come with a price. Your life, and your soul, young one. You will receive the power to achieve every amount of revenge you want within this life—but your life will be shortened."

A shortened life....It seemed cruel, but....If this strange creature walked away now, his life would most certainly be over. He could not, he would not get help from anyone in that place. So the creature was correct, his pride was going to kill him. This was the best he was going to do, and he knew that. A soft, unwilling breath left his lips accompanied with words. "I don't care. Just do it." What did he need with a soul, anyways" He never planned on using it.

The shadows that clung to the eccentric form before him crawled down, across the ground, and shrouded Aloysius' body. He looked around in an almost frantic state, and suddenly was covered from head to toe. There was a sudden pain, and Aloysius screamed out. Part of him suspected that it was all going to be over in an instant. That he would not be afforded the time to achieve his needs of revenge. Were there other things he could sell his soul for, he wondered. A certain face appeared in his troubled head as Aloysius' wounds melted away. It was too late now, the deal had been done and he'd failed once more. When the shadows melted away he was whole, healed, and alive. What stood out to him, was that he didn't feel more powerful. "So that's it' You just healed me" If I wanted to sell my soul for healing I would have just gone back home!"

"Calm yourself, child. Look," it spoke out, extending a limb covered by the black cloak towards Aloysius' arm.

What was this guy' The grim f*cking reaper" He had a feeling that this sick b*stard was going to be the last thing he ever saw. When he looked down, he noticed that his arm was covered in a tattoo that seemed to tremble on his form. "What's this?" the boy asked as he felt the shadows sinking deep into his skin. It burned in the best ways.

"This is your power source. You will learn to tap into it, and once you do, you will only get stronger. With each mark that appears on your body, you'll get closer to being at full power—but once your body is covered, you will die. You must complete your life before that happens..." The creature said as it pulled itself into a pool of shadows that grew beneath his feet. With that, he was gone, leaving Aloysius to his thoughts and new power.

"Heh," he scoffed and let his head drop. "That's just great..." Aloysius said and stood to his feet. He'd never felt better in his life, and the tingling in his arm and parts of his torso left him feeling more alive than he had in a long while. Heading into a new direction, he knew just one thing: he was anything but weak.