Reborn to Devour: A Demonic LitRPG

Claws tore crimson ribbons in meat. Teeth punctured innumerable holes into skin. Fists created hairline fractures in bones. Feet crushed and splayed quills. Tail slashes buffeted flesh, leaving angry red wounds.

Each attack led into the next. Each blow led to another flash of searing pain. Inexhaustibly, I relentlessly enforced my will upon my opponent. I needed to use this minute to the fullest extent after talking such a big game. I needed to be one with my new body.

The creature had weakly tried to rise at first. It took a swing at me, hopelessly missing. Just one revenge slash of my claws was all it took before it had given up entirely. Now, instead of taking advantage of its invulnerability to at least try to turn the tables against me, it contorted and clutched to minimize the pain inflicted upon it. It curled and waited for the assault to be over, even with the knowledge of what will happen when the timer runs out.

The limp opponent was still making this fight boring. Any of the initial excitement that this intervention brought me was already extinguished.

I sighed and attempted to rouse my soul back into emotional action. Despite my best efforts to string attacks together and splatter the arena with a comical amount of blood, it was likely still hopelessly boring for whatever entities would soon pass judgment. Not even my heart was much in it and gave me memories back of past executions. It returned reminders about how empty I felt when it was all over. Since this enemy could not die, that melancholic feeling arrived in the midst of this act.

Half of the color remained on the icon on invincibility. I was already running out of moves to do. All that was left to do was just try shit out.

I kicked the ball of flesh, allowing it to raise slightly above the ground. I spun, flexing my tail muscles and directing the new appendage sideways. It slammed the creature, sending it tumbling across the sand.

I shook my head. I could not even feel impressed with the rapid progress that I made. Continuing my assault, I clawed and bit the inert opponent, hoping that it would cause it to reach some sort of breaking point that it would not be able to stand. But, no matter what I did, it remained balled up; whimpering and whining at the punishment delivered.

A quarter remained.

I sighed. I would continue to do all of the work in this exchange. Someone had to, at least, try to offer up a suitable finale.

Claws dug deep into the creature’s flesh, sliding past bone and generating an awful wailing sound. I clenched my fist and attempted to fling my opponent into the air. It rose up high enough for my foot to solidly punt it higher. As it started to fall back down, I pressed my hands together and held out my arms like I was playing beach volleyball. Bloody meat slapped my forearms and I pushed as hard as I could, sending the body soaring into the air.

I squatted low, flexing my legs to jump as high as I could; far higher than I ever could in life. I arced my tail high and swished it downward. I felt a heavy slap against my scales as the strike landed. The body tumbled back towards the ground and I followed, flexing my knees in anticipation of the next impact.

The body thudded to the ground, the last damage that it would take before the effects of invulnerability ran out and the skull disappeared. Less than a second later, I stomped it with my full weight and whatever extra forces gravity provided me. These scales made me feel far heavier than I used to. I was a living cannonball.

Finally, the bar was fully depleted. Like a balloon, the body ripped apart, spilling blood and viscera over the arena and my feet, leaving them feeling sticky. A small wave of disgust passed over me as I had never seen a body do that before. But, I did not have much time to fully consider it.

The floor felt like it gave way and I fell into the darkness. I felt my scales rubbing against the rocks as I slid down a dark tube made of rock. It spiraled and wound through the black, tumbling me unceremoniously down with the meaty remnants of my former opponent.

I felt it branch constantly like a massive ant farm to deliver me to some arbitrary location. The options were endless, showing just how much larger my destination was to be.

Finally, it did. Plopping me down in a puddle of familiar blood. I blinked a few times to adjust to my new environment and ineffectively wipe blood from my eyes. I had to flick my tongue to my eyes to clean them. The taste of blood was, surprisingly, not bad. There was a richness to that I had not known of in the past. A feature of my new form, surely.

I looked around. Glowing fungi and moss offered dim illumination to the low-ceilinged tunnel that I found myself in. I touched my hands on the warm, infernal stone. A puff of smoke slithered out of a crack in the wall and assailed my nose. It reeked of a more pungent rotten egg; like the Yellowstone Hot Springs.

I wondered what I should do next. Should I just start walking in the hopes I find something nearby?

But then, as I expected, the familiar color swarmed my eyes for the hundredth time. Why couldn’t they just put a notification in a less annoying place? I guessed that part of the punishment was that it was inconvenient.

Congratulations on completing your first quest! Please wait while rewards are calculated.

Welcome to the Bowels (Level 1-5). You now have access to the [Map] feature.

Quest: Reach Level 5 and use a [Portal] to escape.

Like an obedient dog with an abusive owner, I thought about activating the map in my head. As expected, a small square plastered itself to my eye. To call it a map would be a bad joke. The only thing that it showed was the tunnel that I currently was in. A small blue triangle denoted my location in the center of the stretch of tunnel. No towns, no enemies, and no portals.

I took a few steps in each direction, and the shown tunnel grew in size. It appeared that any progress made on exploring this new place would be mine alone.

Before I could walk any further, yet another message struck my brain like email spam.

Your New Demonic Form (Complete)

Your fight pleased the spectators and showed the underworld just how capable you are. In addition to your winnings, you will receive a gift from a patron who is eager to see what you do next.

New Passive Ability: A True Beast Has No Need for Magic. The Body is the Best Weapon.

New Active Ability: Sanguine Bite.

Level Up.

As soon as the reward windows were dismissed, I noticed that my blue bar disappeared entirely. However, the surviving bars grew longer. I opened my main character profile to appraise the new status.

Name: Ishmael

Title: The One Who Impresses the Aspect of Wrath

Notoriety: Provincial Horror

Passive Abilities: Taken in One’s Prime. They Don’t Make Them like They Used To (E). A True Beast Has No Need for Magic (E). The Body is the Best Weapon (E).

Active Abilities: Flaying Tail. Sanguine Bite.

Transformation: Reptilian (Stage 2)

Level 2 EXP: 0/400

HP: 78/78 MP: 0/0

Stats:

Strength: 19.58 (+0.25)

Agility: 10.99 (+0.25)

Magic: 0

Body: 17.96 (+0.25)

Armor: 10 (Natural)

Notoriety: Provincial Horror: You were a well-known killer within your region and small communities will remember you for a long time. But your actions did little to impress lasting damage in the wider world. +1 Transformation.

A True Beast Has No Need for Magic: (Passive Rank E) Spellcraft is the work of the coward. You are at your greatest when your physicality is at its peak. Lose your Magic Stat; the points will be distributed to your other stats. You are barred from using any non-biological abilities. Damage from Biologic Abilities is increased by 10%.

The Body is the Best Weapon: (Passive Rank E) Swords and spears and guns and bombs are a human necessity. Anything that is not your own flesh and bone is a confession that you are imperfect. Your body is categorized as a weapon. All unarmed attack damage increased by 20%. This ability will go away upon using a weapon.

Sanguine Bite: (Active Rank E) Blood is the lifeforce of every human alive. Some revered it so much that they would consume the blood of others to try to be immortal or bathe in it to remain looking young. 25% of damage dealt will be recovered in health.

Just as the bars and ability indicated, my magic and MP were reduced to nothing. On the other hand, the rest of my stats rose up nicely. At least they looked improved to where they were. What I didn’t understand were the mysterious bonuses to all of my stats. Were they a reward from the fight that the boxes didn’t explain?

And focusing on it didn’t provide any explanation.

A groaning sound from behind me distracted me from further appraising my rewards. The puddle of blood that I slid down with me bubbled and boiled. A formless shape slowly grew from the crimson portal. The blood enveloped it, clinging to the form like a pool you suddenly were unable to surface from.

Then, the bubble popped, revealing the nude form of the spiny creature I had turned into paste only a few minutes ago. It blinked in the new locale with incredulous eyes before training its vision on me.

“Oh shit!” It shouted in surprise, backing away from its killer. It kept its eyes trained on me, too fearful to turn away.

“The quest is over, I don’t care about you anymore,” I stated, not interested in dealing with the thing further. The dissatisfaction behind the kill still left a bitter taste in my mouth. It was a dish that I felt no compulsion in tasting again.

The creature’s chest heaved regardless. The memories of what occurred to it were still fresh and the disorientation from being revived kept it from calming down. It was like the Iraq war vet in my cell who would seize up whenever someone slammed a metal tray in the mess hall or my great grandfather who suddenly began weeping uncontrollably when he watched the Normandy scene in Saving Private Ryan.

Its eyes lit up, likely covered in its own version of those damned red-shaded boxes. Its shoulders slumped and its lips twitched as it read the probably bad news.

“Fuck!” It shouted in frustration, the weight of the realization causing him to forget his killer was only a few feet away. “My stats went down too?”

I raised my eyebrow in interest at that statement. There was another clue in the mystery of the numbers. Perhaps that was the consequence of dying. One would become weaker each time their life was extinguished. Maybe it was its punishment for disappointing the spectators. Looking at my own stats, only one question could form on my lips. I needed to know if there was a coincidence behind these changes or if there was a greater mechanic at play.

“By how much?” I asked.

“Huh?” The creature jumped at the words.

“By how much did your stats go down?” I asked again.

The creature narrowed its eyes at the invisible screens. “Point two five,” it answered.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the revelation. So that was how it was going to be? The best way to get stronger in this place was to kill the other damned and steal their values. I did not need convincing to follow this path. Even if I wished to be better and spurn my killing ways, I would only find myself at the mercy of someone who did not hold such stupid reservations. Something interesting would be at risk with every fight, even as an immortal. I cannot die, but I could slowly atrophy into nothingness; a concept that felt far worse than a violent end.

“It looks like your loss was my gain,” I mused, more than happy to be the beneficiary of its suffering.

“No,” the creature muttered, shaking its head. “No, no, no, no, no! You give it back! I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve any of this!”

I only needed to take a step towards the creature for it to swallow its words. It knew that I could easily kill it again, creating only a larger debt to try to crawl out of. I stopped and stared down at the fallen soul. The lack of introspection or repentance from it stirred my soul slightly. I would have to offer my own test to this demon before I delivered it a third death in such a short time.

“Do you have a name?” I asked.

The creature opened its mouth, but swallowed its words. It turned its head to the side and thought hard about what name it used to have. Just like me, it appeared to have no recollection.

“I-I don’t remember,” it said in epiphany. “I remember other names. I remember what I was doing before I came here. But I don’t remember what I was called.”

“Is that so?” I questioned, amused that I was not alone in this selective memory loss. “In that case, allow me to name you. I’m going to call you…Squealer. Now, Squealer, we are all down here for a reason. I’m down here because I killed people in cold blood. What did you do to be given the same fate as me?”

“I did nothing!” Squealer protested, hackles raised. “I was just an accountant. I never even got a speeding ticket.” Its eyes were full of despair before it turned into anger. “It was only supposed to be a normal operation. Those motherfuckers killed me! They better be down here as well!”

I raised a finger, prompting Squealer to cease speaking.

“Squealer, please,” I chided, rubbing the slits that were now my ears. “Enough with the bullshit. Do you honestly think that by denying anything you ever did wrong, God would suddenly overlook it? Now, looking at you and how you act, you weren’t like me at all. No, I know your type. Whatever you did was to something that you perceived weaker than you. Hmm. Were you a chomo?”

“A what?” Squealer demanded.

I clicked my tongue. I had grown too used to speaking to other prisoners. I would need to try to fix my language. “You know, someone that likes kids.”

“What? No!” Squealer shouted in indignation. “No, no… It was, it was cats.”

I grinned at making Squealer break. Going straight to the accusation of pedophilia would do that. Minds would turn blank as they would rather tell the truth than be falsely branded. I didn’t really care at all what the rodent had done in its previous life. No matter what it was, punishment was already delivered by virtue of their presence in these underground bowels.

“Cats?”

“Yes, cats,” Squealer sighed in defeat. “They would always scratch me when I tried to pet them as a boy. They are little freeloading miscreants that are only loved because of a brain washing chemical they give off. People wouldn’t keep them caged inside so they ran all over the streets as they pleased. So, I threw rocks at them. When that didn’t work, I dipped meat in antifreeze and left it out where the cats would like to gather. They finally were kept inside after that. But, that doesn’t compare to killing people. I’m not like you.”

“Yet, here we are, in the same tunnel,” I chuckled, enjoying watching the creature squirm in denial of its sin.

Before Squealer could speak up, his pupils suddenly dilated and he crouched down. His eyes pointed in the direction of the tunnel at my back.

I turned to see shadowy tendrils crawl out from the darkness. They temporarily blocked the bioluminescence that clung to the walls. An amorphous blob slowly came into view, at its front, a gaping mouth that whispered indecipherable words.

“What the fuck is that?”