Dreams Of Blood

Black Pierre

For a long time, I have been, mostly, asleep. My quest almost forgotten. My ruminations thin and transparent as a dream that fades into the waking world. Is this our fate? Are we meant to return to the voyd that hungers for all? In the past, I would have refused... but I no longer have the strenght nor drive... as my mirror sibling turns away from mortality and I become a mere shadow of ill forebodding.

Nowadays, it is only ill thoughts or ill dreams what wakes me, if barely, from this transientness into the neither, like yesterday. Yesterday... ah, yesterday... Yesterday, a particularly simbiotic couple dared to seek shelter from the already unforgiving world in which we dwell in the ruins of my once splendid Fair Of Reversed Aesthetics. These weren't newcomers, but old chaps I have seen (and thrown out of my domains) plenty of times, who were taking, once again, advantage of the fact sleep has gotten a dark and chocking hold upon my self: Dier, The Graceless, and his mistress, Erebus, The Hollow.

Little is there to say about Dier, a carnage demon retrieved from the layers of The Abyss and brought to me, originally, by Leeu, The Hater, as an entry token to partake in the attractions of The Fair, which I graciously accepted. Alas, I quickly found the wretched creature was of little to no use for me, so once I cursed it to it's own freedom, it found a master under the charge of Erebus.

I've met with Erebus, The Hollow, some time ago, as my fellow maren Asaka, The Godless, was trying to capture her as a new trophy for his personal collection of pain lovers. Asaka eventually grew dissinterested as he fled to warmer lands in order to stablish his own rulership and I took his place, intrigued by the possibility of corrupting whatever little good was left on this being. Much to my dismay, I quickly found there was nothing left to corrupt on someone who, as her namesake implied, was hollow from a beginning: Erebus is a channeling eidolon, a hollow doll body bereft of any real mind or heart of it's own, supplied by a combination of restless and formless spirits that hunger for sensation and experience, which she gladly provides with every new debauchery she manages to accomplish. Being this way, I quickly lost interest in her, and she found a fast and easy thrall on Dier to account for her lack of physical strenght and to revel on the pleasure of massacre and slaughter. As of late, the cunning and ever treacherous nalfeshnee Vark, has filled up Erebus thoughts to the brim with dellussions of grandeur and now  The Hollow believes she has the power to overthrow me. Would you believe such fallacy?

But, I am digressing. The point is that, being in the state I am, I was able to peer in the multitude of minds that populate the hollow spaces in the body of Erebus, and such a sight I had: filty men as misserable as chickens on a rooster plotting against titans, unholy cruxifications of science in the name of boredom, and a marvelous feast of spattered blood and gore for the damned. How long had it been since such callings had awakened me from such a hard hold? I would even dare to say it is a new turning page in the history of this darkness... and I'm quite willing to see it through... to it's end, as usual.

- Black Pierre Yantra.