When you wake up you find yourself locked in a block made of metal. You can barely move and the only light comes from a hole in front of your face through which a reddish light, passed.
Your nose detects a slight smell of sulfur and smoke. Your eyes were whining because of that charged atmosphere and you try to use your hands to reach to your eyes, a futile attempt, due to the reduced space in which you find yourself.
They must be taking you somewhere and that was some kind of transportation method. You would have said it was quite uncomfortable, if they had asked you. This thing looked more like a coffin. You think, with morbid fascination.
You try to keep your eyes closed in an attempt to ease the itchiness in them. There is not much to look at anyway: A wall made of metal, covered with soot and without any decoration and that it stretched miles underground.
At some point, you scream for help but there seems to be no one to answer your call. Or that they want to. That stuffed coffin continued its slow descent and you start coughing repeatedly. It was difficult for you to breathe that mixture of gases that can hardly be called air, and that must have been laden with smoke and ash.
After 20 minutes, your head began to spin and now the itchy eyes had been added yet another discomfort: A metallic sensation flooded your mouth. You realize with some revulsion that it must have been Pete's blood. You could still remember it, moving through every part of your body and getting inside you. You feel like vomiting but you try to hold on and avoid thinking that the tears that fall from your eyes are caused by something other than itching.
The sarcophagus continued to descend, as if it were an elevator to hell itself. It could be the case.
As you descended the air grew warmer and the burning smell now seemed permanent. It had been half an hour before the elevator finally stopped. But you remained locked in that claustrophobic space for a few minutes until you heard footsteps coming down the hall.
The show begins.
A small figure dressed in black robes appears in your field of vision and after manipulating the opening of the sarcophagus, he lets you out. You end lying on the floor, of sheer exhaustion.
The figure approached you with a hesitant step. He may have been afraid that you might have died during the transfer, something that would upset his superiors.
"God!"
"Hey!"
The bent little guy steps back in alarm from what must appear to him to be a lunatic, showing teeth and bloodshot eyes.
"Water!"
"What?"
"The eyes! They're burning! “You got down to his level, his were eyes red." I need water!"
The stranger, places a metal object in your hand, groping you find the spout of what appears to be a canteen and proceed to spray its contents on your face. Thank goodness, it was just water and not some kind of poisonous brewage.
Relieved, you perch on the wall and run a hand through your wet hair. The hooded individual must still be afraid of you because he hadn't tried to talk to you yet. Once it became clear that you had calmed down, the stranger dared to speak to you again.
"My master awaits your presence." makes an imitation of something similar to a prostration while gesturing with his left hand towards one of the corridors, "this way, follow me.
You try to ask the strange pygmy about that "master” But he seemed to ignore you.
Moving down the hall, you pass a group of sarcophagi stacked on the wall, all of them were empty. You couldn't help but notice that they had a closure that only allowed them to be opened from the outside. You assumed their purpose was to transport people. You would rather not think about the reason for sending someone down here in large numbers.
Your companion was quite silent and did not answer any of your questions that you had about where you are. He only referred to it as "The Citadel." It seemed like a crappy name from an RPG that Sarah, your cellmate, enjoyed. You wonder if she could have gotten away before everything went to shit.
The red-eyed pygmy stopped at an intersection in the road and placed his thin hand on one of those bare walls, instantly a symbol formed by a red substance materialized on the wall. The pygmy backed away as the wall rose to reveal a hooded figure with purple eyes that looked familiar.
"You!"
The succubus, Asroth, was looking at you with amusement. White fangs appear behind its thin lips forming a predatory smile.
"How have you been, my dear?"
"What I’m doing here?"
"As I told you back in that backwater town, I have chosen you to be one of us, a succubus."
"So what's going to happen to me now?" Am I going to transform myself into a being like you?"
That last statement seemed to have amused the succubus. Like it's the funniest joke ever told.
"Dear believe me: you have a long way to go to get to be like me."
"If I'm still alive." You spit the words of your last conversation, in her face.
"Right…but before you can even imagine something like that ..." She took a step forward. You try to back off from the obvious threat, but the succubus grabs you by the arms, pulling you until your faces are facing each other. You could smell her perfume that penetrated the nostrils and those magical eyes had acquired a Machiavellian look. "First, there is a matter that I need to attend to and you, “she put a finger in your chest. "are going to help me."