Everything is a mess.

It was dark out, just like how Caesar liked it. The demon felt like he would be more at ease out here in the neutral lands, rather than staying with Elysium for the time being. He was finally free from the harsh climate of The Pitt, his old body passing out and being left for the vultures to feed on. Yet despite being in a whole new body, Caesar still felt exhausted. His steps were long and drawn out, his head held low as he walked along. His teeth gritted together, a strange pain flickering through his body. Fuck... Caesar paused, his body shaking as he fought the urge to throw up. Not now.

Caesar threw his head back, taking a deep breath. He subconsciously dug his claws into the ground, trying to stop his body from the convulsions. He felt miserable, trying to hold his breath to prevent himself from doubling over. The pain he felt wasn't from any wounds - there weren't any new ones, after all - but rather from the inside. He knew what this was; this was something his species went through when they got overwhelmingly stressed. It wasn't exactly normal per say - no, if it got far enough, it was a death sentence. Corruption was something that was feared among his kind and for good reason, and yet... why was he purposely trying to drive himself to that point.

You don't have to. Technically speaking, this was true. Caesar knew he could stop his wrong doings and try to make amends for what he had done, but in reality, how much would that do? Would that were stop the guilt? Likely not. What happened has happened and he could not change the past, no matter how much he wanted to. So why did he continue to do wrong, knowing that he was inevitably going to end up making himself worse? If you asked Caesar that, he would probably laugh and claim he was fine, but obviously that was not true. He did the things he did to try and hide his guilt, only to make it worse. Caesar wished he knew why he did that, but at this point he felt like he couldn't stop.


The demon's body shook from where he sat, exhausted. He wrapped his tail around him carefully, trying not to cover his tail in his blood. Stop. Stop. Stop. It hurt. His whole body was alive with pain at every movement, seemingly getting worse by the second. His heart pounded in his chest with his breaths coming in sharp gasps. Please stop. He wanted it to stop... he wanted it to end. Why wouldn't it end?

You know why. Caesar growled at himself, gritting his blood-stained teeth. If he would only just stop his rage-fueled desires, this would all end, he knew. And yet, why did he feel like he had to keep doing this awful things. Because you think it will relieve you. This will only get worse. He wasn't sure what the symptoms of Corruption was, to be quite fair. He just knew that it caused extreme pain and caused death, but before the end came, you became an entire different person. Nobody talked about it much back home, for good reason. It was feared, no one wanted to be Corrupted.

I don't either. Caesar found himself crying. Hot tears streaked down his face, his gasps becoming strained. He truly didn't want to die, not in such a horrible, terrifying way. There was obviously a reason why demons didn't talk about it hardly at all; it was horrifying to think about. He hated the person he had become; he hated how he killed just for some sort of sick satisfaction... temporary relief. He hated how he bullied others and tried to harm them in order to fuel his sadist desires. I don't want to be Corrupted... And yet, he couldn't stop it. Nose bleeds was the first warning sign, the next was the vomit. How close was he to becoming Corrupted? He wasn't sure and that terrified him. Caesar shuffled backwards, getting away from the small pool of blood that stained the ground in front of him.

His body was still recovering. He was still trembling and his pawsteps were shaky as he moved. Was he already past the point of no return? Would he ever be relieved from this pain? Caesar just wanted to go back to normal, but he knew that wouldn't happen. Not after everything he had done; not after he destroyed his home, killed his parents, killed his brother's lover. Killed millions. Hurt thousands. Caesar's body convulsed again and he grit his teeth. Stop thinking. Go back home. At least the bustle of Elysium would distract him. Hopefully. Caesar started to lick himself clean, clearing off the blood that stained his muzzle.

Gathering up his strength and putting on his neutral facade, Caesar made his way back towards Elysium.