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Screaming. I was always screaming. Punching, thrashing, trying to break out of the hole or whatever it was I was trapped in. It had seemed like eternity, my mind was all-but undone by the solitude and constant reminder that I had been wrong. God existed.

The first sound apart from my own tormented screams I heard then, as a moment later my prison was ripped open, a huge clawed paw slicing the cover from the coffin-like chamber I had spent the better part of forever trapped in.

Looking up, and up, and up, I saw his heads, the beast that popular media, when I was still alive, would have had me believe was either impossible or a cute pet of an imaginary being. It wasn't either of those things. One of the heads darted down, impossibly quick, reaching for me in my own part of hell. As it's breath spilled out an anger rose in me, I wasn't going to end this, this beast wouldn't have me, I had scores to settle!

A diving roll, the feel of hot, foetid breath as the beasts head crushed my resting place and shattered it. I saw then, Cerberus had been feasting. Another wave of anger and I was running but, unlike a few others who had escaped the demon's first attacks, I grabbed a shard of my former torment and charged, cutting and diving at the monster. I wasn't quite sure why but something about it's attacks had focused all my hate and a lifetime of lies on it. For the most part the demon ignored me, tearing and ripping more tombs open, devouring or sometimes just shredding the occupants.

There were a lot.

The sixth circle. Heresy. Home to anyone who had been born a good Christian and then given up on their faith.

I sliced at the leg of the monster again and, this time, I hurt it. A wave of fury that dwarfed my own washed over me, threatening to drown me in hate and anger mixed with violence. But I slashed again, this outside force only feeding my own release.

The last I remember is seeing the beast's eye up close, slashing at it, missing and feeling a warm laughter around me.

-

The anger always boiled just below the surface. Most half demons, beings fighting their way up from tormented to tormentor, had a great demon as their sponsor. Belphegor, Mammon, Asmodeus... no. I had an unthinking beast. A force of nature that only knew two things, wrath and that the Great Dragon himself was his master. The heavy collar around my throat, iron, heavy, was a smaller version of the one around Cerberus' himself. Lucifer thought it was a great comedy. His pet had sponsored it's first half demon and he got to play games with me.

The pain of the wounds I had just suffered, fighting, killing, were fading already. When I let it out, my wrath transformed me, showed me the form I would eventually take when I was raised completely. Unlike my progenitor, I bore but one head, but the rest of my body became a loose mix of man and beast, standing upright, claws, fists, tail and that constant need for violence that I could never shake.

"... another fight, this time, Abaddon, my pet will claim three of your minions, choose any you wish him to fight." my head snapped around at Lucifer's words. I had to focus, couldn't let myself lose it until I was ready. He had promised me fetters if I tried to take another demon lord's throat again. I wasn't sure if it was a threat or temptation. I really think he would love to see me try.

Dressed in armour, the demon lord of war and combat loved his games, his Colosseum. Great wings folded behind him, the scarred face smiled, "I know just the three. Brothers they were in life, warriors. They would do well to claim your pet and my pride, or feed your monster and end their suffering."

A taloned, black-scaled hand reaches up to my head, rubbing and patting me like a dog. It was degrading but, at the same time, if any demon was going to be my master, I would rather have him be the most powerful. "Less talk, send your war-slaves in, have them be slaughtered and, if my pet wins, I have a task for you." The words were almost a hiss. He could take many forms, Satan, but when he was relaxed he would invariably become this, a dragon.

The armoured demon lord roared out a command and, below in the arena, three men armed with spears and shields stood, looking around them first, making sure there was nothing immediately threatening, then up to Abaddon.

"Go, kill these three. Rend them and sever their souls." My Master's words always encouraged me to be obedient, but sometimes he spoke to that inner part, the rage, telling it the words it always wanted to hear.

I vaulted the top of the wall and dropped, thirty feet down onto sandy rock, my legs bending under me to absorb the fall. The moment they knew who their opponent was the three men turned, focusing on me. Spears up, shields protecting them, they advance and move in, each in step with their partners. They had done this before.

Moving so my flank was the wall, I kept them in front of me, watching how they turned and moved together, always guarding each other. I couldn't let loose yet, if I did they would pin me down and end me.

After a while, I saw what I was hoping for. As the three wheeled to their right, the man on the far left exposed his flank for a moment, his shield pulling in to guard his allies body and leaving only his spear to guard himself.

I brought them around to the left again, so that next I would have to bring them right. Something was thrown down from above, a knife. My hand immediately wrapped around it, lifting the blade and knowing that it came from my Master's hand.

I turned, backing up, bringing the three to the point where they would have to wheel around to face me again and, as they turned, I moved in.

The first spear slid down my back, the second finding my leg and the third I bit the haft of, my neck and head growing, jaw pushing out and into a muzzle that could and does bite clean through the wood.

Putting myself in the right position, the wound in my leg the perfect catalyst, I let my anger, my rage, take me. Looking down slightly now, where before I was level with the men, I knew only that they were in my way and something to destroy. The knife slashed, lashing out and slicing deep into the side of the man, his scream as my blade drank deep simply fuel for my fire.

Three, I would not have been able to handle enraged. Two, worried about their friend, was a whole other order.

The rasp of sword being drawn brought my attention away from the screaming man, the one who's spear jammed into my leg jerked it, trying to pull me off balance while his partner attempted to draw me away from their injured. The pain lanced up my leg, causing a scream of agony and rage. Grabbing the pole-arm I jerked it from his grip, throwing it into the swordsman's gut.

Disarmed, seeing his two brothers down, the last man looked at me in horror as I fell upon him. The blood-red rage that was my world cooled a bit, as I tore into his throat with my teeth, his blood the ice that my anger needed, if only until the next fight.

I became aware of the roar of the crowd, of one roar above the others as my Master was on his feet, wings flared and a very savage expression on his inhuman features. With the blood still dripping down my throat and chest, I left the three corpses, their last remnants of light torn asunder, to return to my Master's side.

The rational side of me always wanted it to be someone else doing this, trying to separate the 'beast inside' from the man I had been. But somehow, I knew that the anger had always been there, it just took a primal force like Cerberus to have empowered it and given it an out.

Ascending the steps I heard a set of trumpets that, despite sounding nice, tore at a part of me and in a fit of rage at the sensation I almost let my beast out. Rising the last flight of stairs, I saw what it was that had been the source of my sudden anger. Angels.

They were talking with Master, Abaddon having moved to be at the great demon's side. I moved quickly, keeping my distance from the intruders, finding my place at Lucifer's other flank. If this would come down to a fight, though, I would be barely a moment of pause.

Michael, Uriel and a few of the lesser angels. Each of them bore their Angelic Weapons. Blades, spears, even a dagger. All absolutely deadly to any being, able to sever a soul from the world and banish them from existence.

At my arrival Michael looked from me to the Great Dragon, getting a nod from him and continuing. "... without His divine guidance I fear the universe will falter. I was amazed it hadn't already."

He was waiting for a reply, only one of us was his concern. Satan lifted his head, making sure his eyes were a little above the arch-angel's own and replied, "So you are coming to me, after all this time. Michael, I once called you brother, even you can see the irony in this. What makes you think I can sit His throne?"

"Because, during that war, for just a moment you did. The universe needs a guide, a sole force of purpose. There is now just one who could be that. Even if it means the whole system is turned upside down existence must go on."

I noticed then, Uriel sneer at us, his expression turning ugly for just a moment. Maybe he disliked hell as much as everyone else? Or was it the thought of Lucifer finally getting His crown?

My Master cut through my musings with his reply, "How did He die? How was it not felt?"

To which Michael replied, "We are not sure. He was found, what is left, on earth surrounded by his guardians, all cut with the same blade but... we are going to find who did it, we must."

Gesturing to one of the other angels he continues, "And so we are taking two fronts. I will lead a host to find the demon who did this and slay them. However, one of our number has another idea. Melanie, recently raised to be a Power, will investigate with her own methods."

Satan grinned at this, saying, "You mean, she wont torture and slaughter her way to what she believes is the truth?"

I saw it then, the woman's face showing inner reflection and for a split second she would have agreed with her traditional 'enemy'.

Michael shakes his head, "No, she believes that her training on earth will be to some good and, with my consent, will investigate and find the beast that did this. You will, of course, allow her into your kingdom to search?"

But my Master says, voice full of vehemence, "Despite your words, I will not allow anything into my realm with one of those," He gestured at the sword on the woman's back, "weapons, not without an escort. Pet, follow this one, be her shadow. Don't kill her unless you think I would want it."

My head snapped up at his command, unless he wants it? Fuck, why does he play these games. 'Kill' is such an easy command to give me, one I have learned to obey, but this? I had to bring myself from my introspection as the woman was looking at me and, I realised, I was quite naked.

She stands up proud, green eyes flashing, "By your leave... Satan, but I don't-"

"No, you have no say in this, he will accompany you, you will let him handle my people and, should you do anything wrong, he will maul you and likely make you wish you wouldn't reincarnate back in heaven."

My Master, Lord of Hell, had spoken and I realised I had a new job. Giving a bow to my lord I moved closer to the angels, Abaddon barking a laugh and tossing me a set of light armour, saying, "You will need this, for all the good it would do you against her weapon."

I sighed and started putting the clothing and protection on. Some days, I almost wished I could be taken back to the sixth circle, a nice flaming casket...