I haven’t updated in a while, so I figured I would post a small sample from my ebook, Askharoth. Askharoth can be found on Amazon.com.
From Askharoth, Chapter 1
Orgen and the forest outside of Black Keep swirled and were gone from my earthly perception in an instant. I was once again reliving one of my own memories. This time, I found myself standing outside of a dank cave near the shore of Rego Bay awaiting my oldest friend, Drog.
When Drog finally emerged near dusk, he was holding a calm child in the palm of his left hand. Drog was a large demon. He was at least a head taller than myself and had a thick, gray hide over his thick layers of muscle. Two white horns adorned his forehead. I was sickened by the proud, accomplished look on Drog’s face as he held his half-human child in the dying light of the day. No High Demon should be happy when a human births one of his spawn.
“What a fine warrior he shall make!” Drog said. Spittle flew from his mouth. He had to open his mouth wide because of his large teeth.
“I trust its mother is taken care of,” I said with no hint of joy in my voice. There was no need for it, and Drog knew this.
“Her life’s blood flows from her nether region in great torrents,” Drog said. His eyes watched me intently as he spoke. “The witch’s body grows colder as we stand here and speak. My son suckled whatever milk was left in her breast and left her husk to rot.” It was a bittersweet end for the damned maiden who had become a witch after a night with Drog. He had met the maiden behind a tavern in Old Blakesport and had taken it upon himself to make sure the girl did not return to her parents unmolested. Drog put her in a hypnotic trance so he could defile her under the wooden wharfs amongst the smell of rotting fish and dung. The painful pregnancy lasted more than two years as Drog’s spawn feasted on her from the inside.
“The child should join her in death,” I said, stepping closer. Drog was one of the fiercest demons I have ever known, but I knew he did not have it in him to kill the child. I would complete this task if he asked it of me. Drog knew this as well.
“No,” Drog said defensively. “The child is mine, and the decision rests with me alone. I know what this means, but my seed shall live on.”
“Very well,” I said. “But know that nothing but ill can come of this.”
“I know you have no want to father your own spawn,” Drog said. “But do not assume that others share your ideas on the subject.”
“Fools,” I said in a near growl. “The lot of you. If that child were mine, it would be rotting at the bottom of the bay at this moment.”
I forced myself from the memory. I had not thought about it often, but that was the last time I would see Drog. He did not seek out my company after that day. I much preferred the damp forest outside of Black Keep to the memories of the warm rocks of Rego Bay.
Drog was indeed an idiot for letting his child live. The proof of this was in Orgen’s words. There is a reason why I did not spend my demonic seed inside that young girl during her initiation into the darkness. Centuries ago, myself and a few of my now dead companions (Drog included) uncovered a prophecy read by the deceased Witch King telling of a way in which you can kill a High Demon of Hell. Translated from the language of the Angels it read simply: A High Demon can be killed by any weapon wielded by a child bore of its seed.
“Drog’s death aside, I must share more pieces of information that you may find useful,” Orgen continued. “It is very important you actually hear the final piece of the prophecy of which Lady Ivy spoke.”