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The Imperial Hound, was not always Her Majesty's pet, or a servant of her Cabinet.
The Imperial Hound was once known by others names.
Hell Hound. Prince of Blood. Silent Death. Flame Demon....these were only the beginning.
It is said that he was forged from the brimstone of Hell itself, born out of fire, blood, and ash. He was the Devil's Pet, and when the reapers failed- Nosferatu sent him to collect. Crohnalieas Setautileu. The Devil's Hound.
He was said to had resided in a cave on the border of five of the seven circles of Hell. Wrath, Greed, Gluttony, Pride, and Lust. Inside was pitch black, until you began to reach the back. There, the air was thick with the putrid smell of death and fear. Smoke wafted from it's entrance, burning the eyes and skin. In the darkness, blazing red eyes bore into you, stealing your soul and paralyzing you. Two sets of diagonal lines could be seen, passing in a blur as victims were dragged from the heel of their foot to the massive pile of human remains that was his nest. In the center of the nest of remains, lay Crohn, crunching down on the skull of his newest captive. They were still alive when he ate them, feeling everything as he tore into their flesh and reveled in their horrified screams. The sound crunching bones and the stripping of flesh from bone was deafening.
Blood and black saliva permanently stained the floor of the cave, and chains rattled. At the ends of the chains were children, of all ages, shapes, and size. They were chained by any available surface. Neck, wrist, waist, ankle, chest, thigh. There were chunks missing out of their flesh where they steadily bled out, a slow, painful torture. Their stomachs were bloated because of the acidic gases that gave off inside, their bodies beginning to devour themselves. Their skin was filthy and their clothes merely rags.
When he had had his fill, he pushed the body aside, going out to capture his next meal. He would jump down from his bed of decaying flesh and groaning bodies, and trot out of the cave, his blood stained muzzle initiating a warning. His steps were measured, chest scraping the ground. Lava and fire dripped from his lolling tongue, his crimson eyes ablaze. This was his domain. His den.
But no one is for sure certain as to whether all of this is true. But what they do know, is that he has been bonded to a human body. One which limits his strength and power, the lucidness, and vileness of his nature. It is the only thing that prevents him from forever tormenting your body and soul. That, and her Majesty. His new charge, His new master. She who keeps him tamed.
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