History/Story
History:
Hellfire isn’t his true name; it’s Marcho Religia. He grew up in a rather abusive household. His father was a gambling man and his mother was a drunk. Every day was a day of pain and scurrility, a living hell for a young child. Day after day he was beaten, tortured and sometimes malnourished. On one occasion he was even forced to chew on glass by his mother only because he broke a window. His father put his family in great debt and forced Marcho to slave away at inhumane jobs, not fit for a child.
Despite this hellish childhood, Marcho prevailed. He studied hard, skipped two grades and graduated top of his year, earning him a scholarship to many of the most prestigious universities. Soon he severed all ties with his family and worked late-night shifts to support himself and his studies. At the age of 19 his father tried to contact him once more. Apparently his mother had passed away due to alcohol-poisoning and he wanted to rebuild the father-son relationship. Marcho’s father had, according to him, gotten rid of his gambling habit and was on the road to better himself. Being kindhearted at the time, Marcho accepted his father’s proposal. Unfortunately this was all a ruse by his father, carefully planned out… his father was a manipulative and greedy man by default and had no morals what so ever when it came to personal gain.
A year had passed when it happened and Marcho had no idea why it happened. Everything was going seemingly fine with his father and his studies were going well. Life seemed perfect and Marcho enjoyed his freedom.
The incident that finally formed who Marcho becomes and what he can do happened on September 11th: His father traded his only son for wealth and fortune… the dealer was Lucifer himself. This deal went down whilst Marcho was attending a lecture and when it was sealed. First he heard quiet moaning that later grew louder to a sorrowful groaning; the floor beneath his feet fell away and he fell into a pit of flames, always accompanied by the groans of sorrow of the damned.
The next 60 years were literally spent in hell. The body did not age and the concept of time is unknown or forgotten. Every day Marcho was sliced, burned, whipped and hit by the residences of hell. Pain so excruciating that any man would easily lose their sanity, was inflicted on him without end. Even his sturdy personality that endured his childhood wasn’t enough to withstand it. Slowly, day after day, hell nipped away at his sanity. He saw how other souls succumbed to the lures of the demons and joined the orchestra of torture; he saw how humans turned into demons bit by bit and was frightened by what humans were capable of doing to each other. Endure as he may, the pain just got worse every time and he grew spiteful of the vile humans who joined the legions of demons.
Finally, one glimmer of hope appeared, one shred of a chance at freedom.
“Well my suffering subjects, I have great news for you! Since I feel particularly good today I have decided to let one of you go!” announced the lord of hell, Lucifer, with a sadistic grin on his face “This will be determined by a race! All of you will be released from your torture and given the chance to reach the gates of hell first!”
Hope built up inside many of the captives and in Marcho as well.
“However!” the devil added “You must evade my guards and my hounds whilst you escape! If you are caught your torture will be even worse! You may decide not to participate and stay where you are! The first one to reach the gates will receive their freedom and a little gift from me!”
Immediately following these words, the chains that bound the damned souls were released. The captives scattered everywhere and hid where they could to avoid the guards and hounds… to no avail. Those who hid were sniffed out by the hounds and those who ran were captured by the guards. Marcho, was one of the few who did neither. Instead he fought his way through the guards and hounds. First he disarmed one of the guard’s staff-weapon, then he mowed through what resistance there was; no matter if it was demon, human or something in between, there was only one thing in his mind: escape. And then… finally… after countless hours of fighting and bloodshed, he reached the gates of hell... and he was the first and only person who had made it there.
“Well, well, well… So you actually made it?!” came from behind Marcho “I have to say I am impressed, though you did make me lose a bet.”
Marcho was too afraid to turn around; he just listened to what the devil had to say and hoped that he would keep his promise. Suddenly immense pain course through his entire body, but he remained unable to move or even scream; all he managed was a painful croak.
“This, my dear friend, is the power of sin, the power which you shall now wield in the human world. I may be the devil, but I never go back on my word. If you die again before you reach 75 years, you will come back here for all eternity. But if you live long enough, I will make sure you are granted passage into heaven. You won’t be able to enter holy place though… I think you know why. And one more thing: those who know your true name and speak it have complete control over you. ” explained the devil, again with a sadistic smile and then added “Just by the way… it was your father who condemned you to this place in exchange for wealth.”
The next thing Marcho knew, he was lying in a hospital-bed surrounded by doctors and nurses. When he opened his eyes the doctors scurried around hectically, getting medicines and asking how he felt. Apparently he was the only survivor in a village fire and had been in a coma for 3 weeks.
For the next several weeks Marcho stayed under intensive care. In this time he remembered what had happened and had realized that he had new found knowledge from out of nowhere about his new power. The doctors cleared him for release on October 31st, the day the story of Marcho Religia ended and that of Hellfire Ghost started. There was only one thing he had in mind now that he was free: REVENGE.
Many days past as he searched for his deceitful father. Anger consumed him and he was hell-bent on murder. Not much time later, he had found him, as an old and frail man… but no matter; what he had done was unforgivable; an act of the utter most cruelty that cannot and will not be forgiven. The old man lived in a large mansion, with beautiful gardens and wonderful décor. Marcho knocked on his father's mansion and a butler answered... unlucky for the butler Marcho was in rage and killed him where he stood. He stepped inside and combed the entire mansion before finding his father in a office, looking out of a window.
"Hi dad... miss me?" the angered young man asked from behind with a cynical voice. The old man turned around, astonishment in his face as he heard the voice of his son... then he went pale white and fear replaced astonishment. "You know, I spent a very long time in hell because of you. I resent you for it, but I also have to thank you. If you hadn't done it then I wouldn't have this power" continued the son still in a cynical tone and had blades made of a dark substance slowly edge closer to his frightened father. These finally reached him and wrpped around his limbs, their sharp edges put against his throat.
"What to do? What to do? You know, I think I'll spare you" he taunted and his father’s face glowed up with hope. At that moment the blades thrust into the old man's body, but did not kill him. With an evil smile Marcho made large jaws appear out from under the old man that consumed him. Now his father was part of the damned souls that made up the dark substance known as "Despair"... and he enjoyed his father's suffering inside.
Another few weeks passed in which he, the previously gentle man commit heinous deeds; murder, steal, hijack, rape… you name it, he did it and with pleasure.
Marcho realized one thing then: he was no longer the kind, gentle, hardworking and compassionate lad he used to be. He was no longer a man of peace, against violence and selfrestraint. Now he had become someone different; he had become a vile, sadistic entity that didn’t care much for other humans or their lives… or so he thought. As more time passed, he saw that the fundamentals of his being were still intact; he was still a man bound by the duty of protecting the defenseless, though even this principal seemed to slip away often. It was from then on that Marcho decided to live a new life. A life of freedom in a sense, where he acted as he pleased and assumed a new identity, a new name: Hellfire Ghost, the mage that had no place to belong and yet belonged everywhere. Honing his new abilities he gained the ability to see the sins and burdens that others carried and judged other humans from that; he judged whether their lives had little value or if their lives were to be spared.
Face Claim: Hei/Darker Than Black
History:
Hellfire isn’t his true name; it’s Marcho Religia. He grew up in a rather abusive household. His father was a gambling man and his mother was a drunk. Every day was a day of pain and scurrility, a living hell for a young child. Day after day he was beaten, tortured and sometimes malnourished. On one occasion he was even forced to chew on glass by his mother only because he broke a window. His father put his family in great debt and forced Marcho to slave away at inhumane jobs, not fit for a child.
Despite this hellish childhood, Marcho prevailed. He studied hard, skipped two grades and graduated top of his year, earning him a scholarship to many of the most prestigious universities. Soon he severed all ties with his family and worked late-night shifts to support himself and his studies. At the age of 19 his father tried to contact him once more. Apparently his mother had passed away due to alcohol-poisoning and he wanted to rebuild the father-son relationship. Marcho’s father had, according to him, gotten rid of his gambling habit and was on the road to better himself. Being kindhearted at the time, Marcho accepted his father’s proposal. Unfortunately this was all a ruse by his father, carefully planned out… his father was a manipulative and greedy man by default and had no morals what so ever when it came to personal gain.
A year had passed when it happened and Marcho had no idea why it happened. Everything was going seemingly fine with his father and his studies were going well. Life seemed perfect and Marcho enjoyed his freedom.
The incident that finally formed who Marcho becomes and what he can do happened on September 11th: His father traded his only son for wealth and fortune… the dealer was Lucifer himself. This deal went down whilst Marcho was attending a lecture and when it was sealed. First he heard quiet moaning that later grew louder to a sorrowful groaning; the floor beneath his feet fell away and he fell into a pit of flames, always accompanied by the groans of sorrow of the damned.
The next 60 years were literally spent in hell. The body did not age and the concept of time is unknown or forgotten. Every day Marcho was sliced, burned, whipped and hit by the residences of hell. Pain so excruciating that any man would easily lose their sanity, was inflicted on him without end. Even his sturdy personality that endured his childhood wasn’t enough to withstand it. Slowly, day after day, hell nipped away at his sanity. He saw how other souls succumbed to the lures of the demons and joined the orchestra of torture; he saw how humans turned into demons bit by bit and was frightened by what humans were capable of doing to each other. Endure as he may, the pain just got worse every time and he grew spiteful of the vile humans who joined the legions of demons.
Finally, one glimmer of hope appeared, one shred of a chance at freedom.
“Well my suffering subjects, I have great news for you! Since I feel particularly good today I have decided to let one of you go!” announced the lord of hell, Lucifer, with a sadistic grin on his face “This will be determined by a race! All of you will be released from your torture and given the chance to reach the gates of hell first!”
Hope built up inside many of the captives and in Marcho as well.
“However!” the devil added “You must evade my guards and my hounds whilst you escape! If you are caught your torture will be even worse! You may decide not to participate and stay where you are! The first one to reach the gates will receive their freedom and a little gift from me!”
Immediately following these words, the chains that bound the damned souls were released. The captives scattered everywhere and hid where they could to avoid the guards and hounds… to no avail. Those who hid were sniffed out by the hounds and those who ran were captured by the guards. Marcho, was one of the few who did neither. Instead he fought his way through the guards and hounds. First he disarmed one of the guard’s staff-weapon, then he mowed through what resistance there was; no matter if it was demon, human or something in between, there was only one thing in his mind: escape. And then… finally… after countless hours of fighting and bloodshed, he reached the gates of hell... and he was the first and only person who had made it there.
“Well, well, well… So you actually made it?!” came from behind Marcho “I have to say I am impressed, though you did make me lose a bet.”
Marcho was too afraid to turn around; he just listened to what the devil had to say and hoped that he would keep his promise. Suddenly immense pain course through his entire body, but he remained unable to move or even scream; all he managed was a painful croak.
“This, my dear friend, is the power of sin, the power which you shall now wield in the human world. I may be the devil, but I never go back on my word. If you die again before you reach 75 years, you will come back here for all eternity. But if you live long enough, I will make sure you are granted passage into heaven. You won’t be able to enter holy place though… I think you know why. And one more thing: those who know your true name and speak it have complete control over you. ” explained the devil, again with a sadistic smile and then added “Just by the way… it was your father who condemned you to this place in exchange for wealth.”
The next thing Marcho knew, he was lying in a hospital-bed surrounded by doctors and nurses. When he opened his eyes the doctors scurried around hectically, getting medicines and asking how he felt. Apparently he was the only survivor in a village fire and had been in a coma for 3 weeks.
For the next several weeks Marcho stayed under intensive care. In this time he remembered what had happened and had realized that he had new found knowledge from out of nowhere about his new power. The doctors cleared him for release on October 31st, the day the story of Marcho Religia ended and that of Hellfire Ghost started. There was only one thing he had in mind now that he was free: REVENGE.
Many days past as he searched for his deceitful father. Anger consumed him and he was hell-bent on murder. Not much time later, he had found him, as an old and frail man… but no matter; what he had done was unforgivable; an act of the utter most cruelty that cannot and will not be forgiven. The old man lived in a large mansion, with beautiful gardens and wonderful décor. Marcho knocked on his father's mansion and a butler answered... unlucky for the butler Marcho was in rage and killed him where he stood. He stepped inside and combed the entire mansion before finding his father in a office, looking out of a window.
"Hi dad... miss me?" the angered young man asked from behind with a cynical voice. The old man turned around, astonishment in his face as he heard the voice of his son... then he went pale white and fear replaced astonishment. "You know, I spent a very long time in hell because of you. I resent you for it, but I also have to thank you. If you hadn't done it then I wouldn't have this power" continued the son still in a cynical tone and had blades made of a dark substance slowly edge closer to his frightened father. These finally reached him and wrpped around his limbs, their sharp edges put against his throat.
"What to do? What to do? You know, I think I'll spare you" he taunted and his father’s face glowed up with hope. At that moment the blades thrust into the old man's body, but did not kill him. With an evil smile Marcho made large jaws appear out from under the old man that consumed him. Now his father was part of the damned souls that made up the dark substance known as "Despair"... and he enjoyed his father's suffering inside.
Another few weeks passed in which he, the previously gentle man commit heinous deeds; murder, steal, hijack, rape… you name it, he did it and with pleasure.
Marcho realized one thing then: he was no longer the kind, gentle, hardworking and compassionate lad he used to be. He was no longer a man of peace, against violence and selfrestraint. Now he had become someone different; he had become a vile, sadistic entity that didn’t care much for other humans or their lives… or so he thought. As more time passed, he saw that the fundamentals of his being were still intact; he was still a man bound by the duty of protecting the defenseless, though even this principal seemed to slip away often. It was from then on that Marcho decided to live a new life. A life of freedom in a sense, where he acted as he pleased and assumed a new identity, a new name: Hellfire Ghost, the mage that had no place to belong and yet belonged everywhere. Honing his new abilities he gained the ability to see the sins and burdens that others carried and judged other humans from that; he judged whether their lives had little value or if their lives were to be spared.
Face Claim: Hei/Darker Than Black
