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They were perfect. Bhaal created them to be the last soul alive. At the end of this all, there was not supposed to be a single creature living. Everyone dead. Everyone dead for their Lord and Father. They were meant to make Him proud.
This was not how things were supposed to end…
They are bleeding, crawling like a pathetic worm through the fleshy corridors of the illithid colony they were meant to walk through victorious. They were so close to fulfilling their destiny! They were getting so close! Elder Brain crowned and, oh, even she was impressed by their unmatched cruelty, their plan to eradicate all life. Of course, not that she had a choice in a role she was about to play: in either the Grand Design - the scheme the Chosen of the Dead Three created - nor a plan the Dark Urge themselves was about to act out when the time was right and when their allies outlived their usefulness.
Why are they not celebrated? Why were they butchered as prey? A predator made into a fool. They are still struggling to understand the reality of it. But, oh, can they really blame their brain for not working properly, not properly processing what happened to them? Stabbed and played with and left as useless mush. Same as the rest of them - dying carcass, pathetic creature mutilated beyond recognition
The Dark Urge slaughtered so many different creatures in so many different ways, their imagination never running dry. And every time they killed, they imagined what, the death they were inflicting, felt like. When they ripped still beating hearts, when they tore limbs and pulled intestines out, when gouged eyes, when they ripped throats, when they pierced skulls of their victims. Some part of them really felt it, like it was happening to them and beamed with thrill. Little shiver, just a little touch of death, delivered in the name of their Father.
Well, now their skull was pierced open for real. With their own dagger their brain matter was mushed and squashed and made into worthless pulp and it did not feel good at all. Because it was not a way of dying they chose for themselves and dedicated to their Father. No, someone else, a traitor, dared to try to give the death of the Dark Urge to their God.
Hah, try. Bold claim. They might as well say they succeeded because their time is numbered, is it not? They failed and they are dying and this is the end for them. The Dark Urge is not afraid of their death, they were never afraid. They were always ready to embrace it - they were always meant to have a terrible and gruesome death! But! But they were meant to die only after everyone else does, not here , not now . Not when the rest of the world is treacherously and painfully full of life, still ready to be killed by their hand. But their hand is too weak now. Too weak to hold their blades, too weak to rip through flesh, too weak to even clench in a fist so they can curse the one who brought this fate upon them.
The thing is, they would love to claim, they hold no grudge against their murderkin, their little sister, their second in command, Orin. It was in her nature to try to kill them, it was expected and she has beaten them, has she not? Should they not be happy that their Father will have a better Chosen as they obviously failed Him?
Except she was not ready, they declined her duel for a reason! She should have been worshipping them, everybody was worshipping them, why was she refusing to see their superiority, how could she dare? She was not mean to , she was not allowed to fight them yet. She cheated, this was not a proper way to do things! She did not play by the rules, by Father’s rules, it is not fair! Bhaal should frown and punish her for her misbehaving as this action was not a one befitting of his Chosen.
The Dark Urge laughs - or at least tries to, choking on their own blood which is filling their mouth and their insides and all the places they are usually covered only in the blood of the others. Because a grim thought crosses their mind. This kind of treachery was more fitting to one of Bane’s worshippers and, oh, how much Orin would hate to hear that, as she hated both Bane and his Chosen. The attempted laughter is followed by another wave of rage over the unfairness of this entire situation. Because how come the Chosen of Bane, their enemy, Chosen of their Father’s enemy, was in the end the one always trustworthy, always keeping his word to them, while the blood of Bhaal’s blood, the one who is sharing the same heritage as them, was the one who betrayed them?
They crawl and curse Orin and scream for their butler but he does not come. That is not possible, Sceleritas Fel always comes, wretched but faithful little thing he is. But where is he now? Why has he not come yet? To fix them and to praise them and to tell them as always how much better than Orin they are?
They pray to Bhaal but He does not answer. Why is He not answering? They are His masterpiece, His perfect scion, His tool to bring His revenge on this realm. He loves them! So why is He silent to their prayers? Do they not at least receive one last blessing, to be told they have done well, that they have done good? They have always done everything right, what was the point if Bhaal is deaf to their dying prayer…
They call for his ally who warned them and they laughed and why is he always right, will he ever get tired of being right? Where are his glorious plans now? If he was so sure Orin cannot be trusted, why did he not count with something like this happening, where is his smug smile and back up plan for every back up plan? Did he finally grow tired of them, the mind games they play together, did they finally outlived their usefulness to him as well?
The Dark Urge is in pain, the entirety of their body screams for them to give up. To lie down and let nature do its thing. Let their blood run and leave. Let their body grow cold and still. Let their soul leave for the Fugue Plane. Except they cannot, they cannot stop yet, they cannot give up! Their destroyed mind refuses to still acknowledge their defeat, their end.
Something is squirming in their head, in their brain. They can feel it. It is not a worm, it is too soon for worms to start feeding on them. They want to reach with their claws inside their opened skull and fish it out. Scratch and tore apart their flesh to cleanse it of whatever Orin dared to do to them.
The waves of rage and desperation alternate in quick succession, each time giving them a new wave of energy to move, to crawl more, just a bit further. They do not know where they are going. Out of this place. To get help. To get revenge. To make amends. To continue, to finish, to fulfil their purpose. Because they cannot stop till they destroy this damned world! They cannot ! they will not !
They cannot disappoint their Lord, their Father, they cannot stop…
They try to scream for Him but they cannot. They are getting so tired, every movement slower and slower. They feel the embrace of darkness. No coherent sound is leaving their mouth and the realisation starts sinking in. That this is how they will die. As a failure left to rot forgotten by everyone, abandoned by their God too.
And it is unfair. So unfair! They understand it now, they can admit now that they failed, they get it, they are done with their self pity! So it be, Father is displeased by them, He must be, but why is He silent? And they could bear it; they could die with the fact, if only Bhaal, if only their Lord, if only their Father was not so completely quiet. His presence used to always be in the back of their mind. But they cannot feel it now, not anymore. Gone for good, ripped away together with their flesh.
And it is unfair.
They deserve to feel at least His wrath; they are desperate for any form of His divine touch. They are the Dark Urge, they are His Dark Urge, they are perfect, He created them perfect and so their failure is a greatest form of blasphemy, an insult to Him. And if they could speak, if they could have one last prayer, they would not beg for forgiveness they would just beg for punishment.
Alas, they cannot speak.
They cannot pray.
The only thing they can do now is to die…