• Disclaimer I do not own Diablo

    Chapter 2: The bowls

    The Shadows danced on the wall as they carefully made their way through the corridors of the labyrinth. Unknown, to the group, Lazarus had a gift for them on the third floor.

    Soon my lord, I will take these nothing little townsmen to the third floor then the butcher can take care of the rest.

    Lazarus thought as he led the group ahead. The stairwell to the third floor loomed in the distance. “We are almost to the beast that claimed that boys’ leg, I can feel it.” He said as he slowly started to descend the stairs.

    The demons sat in hiding, knowing that he was one of them, spoke in their language, “After the butcher kills them men, then we can have what is left.” A small ting of joy seemed to fill those words that the leader spoke.

    The Butcher sat in to room, marveling over the leg that the fallen had brought him. “Soon more fresh meat will come, I can feel it.” It said as it set the leg on the wall, looking at the door. Fresh blood smeared over his face.

    “This door seems like it leads somewhere important.” He whispered as he felt the iron knob under his hand.

    “I do not think that is a good Idea Sir. Lazarus.” Farnham said as he could feel his whole body shaking in fear.

    “Why not.” He snapped at the man.

    “Well, If the king went missing and Albrecht….Were did Albrecht go?” He asked as he looked around.

    “To tell you the truth, the prince went missing late last night, and I have been using a stand-in.” Lazarus said, everything is going as planned, the prince is already dead, and now I will deal with these little townsmen. He thought as he softly chuckled to himself.

    All of the men looked at Lazarus obviously stunned at the news that they had just heard.

    “That is a lie.” Farnham said as he looked over to Lazarus, His sword was now unsheathed as he aimed it at Lazarus Exposed neck.

    A smirk flickered on Lazarus’s face, He turned to the man, “You have reached the end of my rope, I think that it would be better if you where to watch what is to happen to these men.” He shouted the door flinging open as he turned and ran to the stairs to descend farther down to finish his business in the lower levels of the labyrinth.

    Farnham looked in terror as the beast came form the room, cleaver swinging through the men.

    The few that survived the battle grabbed the wounded and began to limp up the stairs; the small demons took this as the opportunity to attack the men and finish them off.

    Farnham ran up the stairs; collapsing outside the door of the cathedral sobbing and shaking as the memories of the men’s face filled his mind.

    Two survivors limped out after him, one of them collapsed as blood began to flow from his leg into the grass. “T…Take him to Pepin” he gasped as he leaned back his eyes rolling back in his head.

    “Tsk….These wounds can not be caused by a weapon of human abilities.” Pepin murmur as he tended to the wound.

    The mans wound was no more than one hour old, but to Pepin’s surprise the wound festered with infection.

    Pepin looked around for Farnham to see if he was okay, but he was no where to be found.

    Farnham sat at the edge of town downing bottle after bottle of the towns’ finest beer; he would do anything to wash away the memory of all of those close to him being slaughtered by that beast.

    A silhouette of a man loomed in the distance looking out on what was left of the town of Tristrum. A small smile played on his face as he began to get closer to the town that had one been a home and safe haven for him.