Within a world where the sky was a dark purple and the sun cast a blue-ish glow no matter the time of day, a dark black portal opened up. A creature with red-skin, a horned head, and no legs was regurgitated from the portal and spilled onto the craggy ground.
The shriek that escaped from Belial’s mouth went beyond agony. His body was burned beyond recognition. Blood seeped from patches where his muscle was showing. His calves and feet were missing. He was also missing his left arm up to his shoulder, and his right arm was missing near the elbow.
“Gyyaaa! Curse that bitch! Curse her! I’ll murder her! That bitch is going to–"
“You’re going to murder who now?” someone asked.
Belial blinked. Someone’s shadow had appeared above him. He couldn’t see who they were. Everything about them was cloaked in darkness, as though their very presence was so repulsive, so malevolent that the light was afraid to touch it. Even though Belial could not see anything to denote this man’s identity, Belial knew who he was.
“M-my lord… I–”
“It looks like you failed me again, Belial,” the man said, and despite the malignant aura surrounding him, his voice was light, almost amiable. “That’s too bad. I had such high hopes for you.”
“G-give me another chance! I’ll do what you commanded of me! I’ll–
“No,” the man interrupted. Blood erupted from Belial’s throat as a gash suddenly opened up around his larynx, almost like an invisible blade had slit open his throat. “I’m afraid there will be no more chances. You failed to kidnap her three years ago, you failed to find her for the last three years, and you failed to kill her when she was finally in your grasp. You know how it goes. Three strikes and you’re out.”
As his life bled out of him, the last thing Belial heard was the sound of his own gurgling, and the last thing he saw were eyes of obsidian.