Hybrids of Team Crafted: The Devil's Revenge

Evil Unleashed

He felt something surge within him, something that hasn't even stirred for so, so long.

He was bound tight, so tight that literally he couldn't even move a muscle. His arms were killing him from being stretched to the sides, held in place by chains and enchantments. He longed to flex them for so long, and they were so numb and stiff that he sometimes doubted they were still there.

The guards watched him from the windows, thousands of eyes settling upon him eerily. He was the only prisoner in the high security prison, and yet it took around a thousand guards to monitor him. But he knew if he were to break out, they wouldn't even stand a chance.

His body tingled, and something ever so foreign crept into his veins, released. He felt the thing holding it back shatter, not intentionally destroyed, of course, as the tingling sensation grew stronger by every second.

He savoured it, his long lost powers, repelling his fatigue and giving him strength. He had not had a sip of water, nor a bite of food for centuries, he was famished, weak, held up only by the chains binding him tight.

The guards couldn't see the powers rushing into him, but evidently, they knew something was wrong. A flicker of slight orange light caught their attention, still vastly surpressed by the enchantments and chains, but it was there. With the sphere broken, nothing could hold him back now.

He had been just testing his powers, it felt raw, foreign. After all, he had been stripped of it for centuries. He cursed, he was still weak, and the enchantments and enhanced chains would prevent him from regenerating his powers at his normal rate. He was still vastly weakened, and unused to his own powers.

He conserved his strength, and didn't move. His lips twitched upwards in a satisfied smile.

Instantly, pain flared in his muscles, having not moved them for so long. Still, he was glad he could still use them.

He used his returning strength to turn his arms, and they responded sluggishly, but they moved at his command. He tried moving, but he was still bound tightly, although the ability to make some of the minor muscles twitch excited him. Finally, his long awaited escape was near.

Wasting no time, with the power kept from him restored, he immediately worked on freeing himself from the restraints. The longer he waited, the more energy his restraints would sap from him.

With a loud pop, the iron collar at his neck burst open, along with the smaller joints holding his head and neck in place. The mussle clamped over his mouth fell to the ground, disconnected, he barely restrained himself to save his energy and not to blast it to dust. He then focused energy along his arms, and with a burst of power, the chains holding his arms in place burst open, and the shackles around his wrists shattered. He flexed his arms, finally freed, and at least he could feel them again.

Alarms blared around the complex, but he didn't have time to care. He was perfectly safe in his bedrock cell. Nothing could get in, while he could teleport out, as long as he got the strength to do so.

He closed his eyes and fiddled with the enchantments, and in less than a minute the glowing symbols faded into the thin air in wisps of smoke. He then circulated energy around his chest and lower body, and with so many clanks that even he lost count, one by one, the manacles fell away from his body and legs.

He stood up for the first time in so many years, and collasped once again, his legs shaky, unused to the sudden activity after so long. His breath came in ragged pants as he used up a lot of his powers to break himself out, plus, being not used to them for so long.

It took him several tries, but he finally managed to stand up, leaning heavily against the wall. He could feel his power regenerating rapidly, like the way it did so long ago, but he would need days to recover to his former strength. He moved his joints, emitting several rather painful pops, but then he found that he could move more easily after that, and his limbs were slowly getting over their stiffness. A smile of satisfaction surfaced on his lips, he spread his arms, savouring his freedom from chains, being forced into a kneeling position with his hands stretched to either side.

An arrow sailing through the observation window struck his shoulder, the sharp and sudden pain pulling him back to the present. He still wasn't fully free yet, and the arrow had his shoulder pinned to the wall.

He heard several more whistling sounds, and pain exploded in various places, one place in particular, between his legs. He roared in pain when that particular arrow struck that place. He was sure that the archer did that on purpose.

He swore under his breath. That was insulting. Nobody ever dared to shoot him, even if they did, none of them ever hit, and definitely not in that spot. The skeletons laughed, some even high fived, before raising their bows to fire again, causing his pale face to flush red with rage and embarrassment.

As if showing being shot in the groin wasn't the worst thing, the next arrow hit him between his eyebrows, penetrating his brain yet at the same time pinning him against the wall. He let out a scream of pain, as scarlet liquid dripped down the wound, and he blinked hard to keep it from dripping into his eyes, while at the same time cursing loudly. They would pay for what their master had done, and they would pay for what themselves had done to humiliate him.

He yanked out the arrows from the wounds all over his body, and the ones in those two places hurt like the Nether itself. He yelped in pain, but then glared at the skeletons murderously, which caused them to jump in their shock, before holding up their bows to fire again.

The split second was all he needed. He teleported out of the cell behind the skeletons, and let them had their face full with the arrows they shot at him in the first place. After running out of arrows, he resorted to hand to hand combat. He punched a blaze, ignoring the flames that scorched his tux. The blaze folded like a tin can, before dropping a few blaze rods at its death. They would die. They would all die. Every single one of them.

A fireball exploded in his face. He snarled, wrenching the sword out of the hand of a nearby wither skeleton and chopped the skeleton's head clean off, before burying the sword deep inside the blaze who shot him. Pain exploded at his back, where a wither skeleton managed to hit him. He immediately felt woozy as the wither effect began taking in and fell to one knee, as the other mobs rushed forward, eager to finish him off.

Suddenly, his deep red eyes glowed bright red, and as he spread his arms, a wave of energy hurled the surrounding mobs to the sides, relieving his current situation.

He summoned a simple dagger of energy with what little energy he still had, and carved a path of destruction and bloodshed. It was a total slaughter, none of the guards actually stood a chance against him, even in his weakened state.

Bam! The prison doors exploded outwards, as he emerged, splattered with crimson blood, as well as the blood of the mobs he had killed. His chest heaved heavily, and he was ready to collapse. Still, he gathered his remaining energy to teleport away from that damned dimension, far, far away. He didn't even look back. He hated the stupid place.

He emerged in the overworld, the fresh air filling his lungs. He looked at his scorched tux, it would have to be replaced, but that was for later. He would have to lay low for a while, but it was finally time to excute the revenge that he had been plotting for so long.

Orange energy curled around his arms, and he breathed deeply, breathing in the fresh air of the overworld once again after five centuries. The energy travelled across his body, repairing his wounds. He moved his neck from side to side, emitting several more pops. He flexed his muscles, man, it does feel good to be finally free.

I have returned, he thought, his bright red eyes glowing with a harsh light, and the Devil will have his revenge.