The Beast that shouted "I" at the Heart of the World - By Me! :D
The darkened walls flickered a dim, dull, candlelight within the chambers of the great Daemon king Lord Began's lair. The darkness of the halls brought one into a trance upon observation, as if the darkness were a direct representation of the deep black void that haunts every man at the core of his subconscious - the hidden terrors that only the most mentally courageous even dare to consider. There was an unsettling silence, like a permanent sound of a slithering snake or a slippery spider slowly crawling in predatorial stealth to strike unexpectedly at their hapless victims. People did not enjoy staying in the lair of Egan long. Egan loved his lair.
'BWAHAHAHEHE! I am the DAEMON KING!," the mighty magus bellowed impulsively, in a startling break of the silence. "All mortals shall TREMBLE before my legendary ancient imbued powers that have been given to me by the great lords of the mystical underworld! My army of angsty teenagers shall CRUSH all who dare to defy my omnipotent will!"
"Shut the FUCK UP you Stupid Motherfucker, we're having dinner here!" yaulped the voice of his neighbor Mrs. Henderson, coming through the ceiling of his discount appartment. "I thought I told you that if I hear any more of that Magus-Crap through my goddamned ceiling I'm going to complain to the landlord!"
"I.. I'm sorry Mrs. Henderson.." The grand Daemon said with his great jowled head aimed towards the ceiling, in an ever-so-slightly quivering voice. "I won't cause you any more trouble, ok?"
"Fucking weirdo... whatever." a defeated and cynical Mrs. Henderson muttered as she returned to her evening meal with her 17 cats and 4 pet parakeets.
The great Magus was furious. A sharp distainful inversed arc formed the shape of his mouth, and his eyebrows inclined sharply: his wiggly jowls jiggled in a dance of murderous rancor: Began was putting on his legendary glowering grimace. Egan's silently, angrily fumed within his own mind: "That damned Mrs. Henderson! How DARE she tell me what to do? SHE, a lowly common person -- DARES to try to command the most powerful magus in the world!? I will use my Satanic Daemon Priest powers to SMITE her soul with an all powerful curse!"
A sharp, impish grin slowly grew on the Daemon's face: "Yes.... she shall rue the day she chose to even so much as look at my beautiful, graceful form! I will use my black magick to summon the cosmos to cause her hideous destruction!.... The carrion birds shall gleefully tear asunder her wrinkled flesh - they shall pluck out her eyes and devour her brains!... The great hounds of hell shall sink their rabid teeth into her feet and hands and teach her the true meaning of pain!... The great baboons of hades shall make sulfuric poopies and fling them at her face for all eternity!.... but first.... FIRST!!!..... FIRRRRRRST!!!!!.... I gotta eat something, I'm damned hungry. I haven't had a thing to eat for a whole damned hour!"
The great Magus picked up his Satanic-Telephone and quickly dialed the number of Wiccan Fried Chicken, the newest restaraunt in town. He heard ringing twice, and then the joyful click that acknowledged his call had been connected, and his belly would soon be filled.
"MERRY MEET! This is Wiccan Fried Chicken, and We sure do deliver! What can I do for you sweety?" a bubbly feminine voice said on the other end.
"This is the GREAT DAEMON LORD BEGAN, KING OF THE SATANIC ELITE!. I demand you send me 10 buckets of your finest succulent Wiccan Fried Chicken immediately. And you weakling wiccans had better get everything right, for your puny white magick is NO MATCH for my great dark powers! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
"Hrmph, you don't have to be rude man! I'll get you your Wiccan Fried Chicken.. Whats your address man?"
"YOU SHALL ADDRESS ME AS 'YOUR EXCELLENCY', or 'YOUR MOST HIGHEST', foul knave! And my address is Wimbletonks apartments, 3rd floor, suite 232."
"Yeah whatever dude, you'll get your chicken in half an hour." *click*
Lord Began fumed once more, his wiggly jello jowls jiggling furiously in anger. "How DARE that Wiccan bitch disrespect me?! All white magicians should COWER in my presence at the mere fact that I am a powerful black mage! GRRRRR!"
Suddenly, Lord Begans enormous and bloated belly emitted a roar louder than the mightiest African lion. "I'm so hungry.." the Magus said in a whimpering voice. "I'll have to pass the time before my chicken gets here. I think I'll go deconstruct the arguments of 13 year olds on my messageboard to show off my vast intellectual superiority to the world."
And so he did. Little Timothy Krekkins of the 6th grade was effectively rid of self esteem for the next 4 years of his life, as the great Daemon king effortlessly smashed his pathetic attempts at reasoning about the Satanic religion.
Suddenly, the doorbell rung. The great Daemon king Dashed (ok, fastly walked) to the door to discover 10 delightful cartons of succulent, mouth watering fried chicken resting at his doorstep! Saliva poored from his sweatglands like water from the grandest waterfalls, and dribbled off his rubbery bloated lips. He hastily grabbed his chicken buckets and slammed the door.
The great Daemon King gobbled up his chicken with the gusto and passion of a thousand Zulu Warriors. With each delightful grease-soaked bight, he felt himself being lifted higher and higher into a state of pure elation - of heavenly bliss. THIS was the true enlightenment, he thought, feeling the joys of food rampaging their way into a big, willing stomache. "It is good to be alive," the Great Began choked out, as bits of chicken shot from his mouth.
He was finished with his meal. His eyes half closed in a state of euphoric delight. This day was not going so bad afterall.
The great Daemon was just about to log back on to the internet, when his stomache emitted a fearsome rumble. "ooooh, my tummy!" The Daemon whined. Still, it did not strike him as unusual, for surely 7000 calories worth of fried chicken would not go down completely smoothly, even in the great iron belly of one so gifted magickally as himself.
But the rumbles persisted, and became stronger... Soon they seemed to no longer represent upset, but instead anger - for the rumbles became roars, and the roars... became screams!!!!
Otherworldly shrieks soon erupted throughout the room, and Began fell to his knees in pain from the continual stomach-stress. Suddenly, a bright green glow soon surrounded his stomache, and he heard an deep, dark, demonic, ancient voice, whispering into his ear... "releeease meeee.... releeeease meeeeeee..."
And with that, the lights became brighter, the screams became louder, and Began's stomache shook and rumbled with the force of a mighty earthquake, and great green clouds shaped like skulls erupted from his body, cackling with highpitched impish squeels as they floated to the ceiling.
And then the Exodus began.
With startling speed, strands of fat burst from lord Began's belly button, and shot out into the room, all landing into one ever increasingly large pile... The pain was excruciating, and Lord Began let out a painful howl as his precious bellyfat left his body through an oriface that was never meant for evacuation.
How long the Great Daemon suffered this torment, be it seconds, minutes, hours, or days, he did not know and could no longer comprehend it. But before his eyes, all he could see was the contiunually building shape of a creature that was being made out of his belly fat..
Before him stood a creature made of dripping white blubber, somewhat spherical, with the only recognizable features being a wide, ferocious mouth, and two blood red eyes, brightly glaring sadistically back towards him.
The great mass of fat began to speak to him: "I...... have awakened.... I have become aware.. I am.... Ashnod the Devourer, eater of worlds! And I have taken home in your welcoming blobs of fat.... my dear Began... I no longer need your body.... I am finally... Free... BWAhAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
Those were the last things Began heard before he fainted and collapsed on the floor.