Damien Black was a normal young man when his story during from boring young lad trying to make a living to artificer. At the age of 23, he resided in the slums of the city, keeping the long hair, and actually sported a beard at the time. He made a meager living doing several odd jobs, ranging from factory work, to bartending in the late evenings for extra money to eat. Of course, he still maintained his personality, except he was a bit more outgoing, and a bit more careless Through the years of living within that city, it began to turn. Turning in the way of a metropolis into a horrid Gotham. Predators arrived, coming in droves in the night, turning the night life into a very dangerous game. After all, you could be walking down the street, or enjoying a drink at a pub, and in an instant, you could be dragged into an empty room or alley, to which you will not be seen again... well, they way you looked at the moment at least. People that learned to survive managed to halt the spread of predators, deterring their hunts with several methods, but that would make the preds work harder for their kill.
On one particular night, the human was drinking at a bar, chatting idly with the bartender as the time passed, taking drink after drink. From the corner of his eye, a very striking woman approached him. Her curves were perfect, her figure curved to the perfect hourglass, her hair long and black, and her eyes a very piercing red. Her dress left none to the imagination, sitting right on her hips as her breasts seemingly kept in by a miracle. A small pendant was around her neck, a small cross etched into it. Of course at this point he thought nothing of it, after all, a few drinks and a beautiful woman way out of your league approached? Of course he checked the signs, or at least any tell at all that may have led him to believe she was not human, the only being the red eyes, which had become a style of woman as of late. It did not take long for the young man to run fleeing out of his apartment, struggling to pull his pants up while flailing a blade behind, which of course was a kitchen knife at the time. The reason he was fleeing? The red beast behind him. The woman turned out to be a demoness of sorts and turned into an almost were creature, hoping to rend his flesh and devour his bloody bits. The flight took into the streets, with the human being knocked back on his own back, being pinned, the end seemed in sight as the creature grazed his chest with a claw, several red marks appearing before blood began to seep from the wound. Panick set in and try as he might, escape was futile. The streets were empty and the demoness toyed with him, dragging a claw along his flesh, opening new cuts after another until finally she went in for the kill.
But then, it was almost a miracle as his eyes met with hers, fear laden as he gazed up. A shot rang out, followed by several more, followed by a screaming. The weight the demoness was lifted a bit as he saw holes forming in her chest, her blood... steaming from those exit wounds splashed right onto his own wound. A sizzling was felt as he tried to keep her blood from entering his open gash, also trying to get out from under this adversary. Several more shots rang out and finally a flash of green appeared before him, tackling the beast to the ground. Two pairs of arms wrapped around his shoulders and dragged him off, his mind foggy and confused as he weakly fought off what... or who was, only to be greeted by the calls of "Its fine.... we are the good guys." As much as he wouldn't believe it, he was in no position to fight back and felt his back hit cold pavement as a young male started to patch his wounds, or at least trying to stop the flow of blood. In the corner of his eye, he saw two rather large men, clad in green uniform continually shooting the demon, taking out her legs before finally shooting what looked like a ray of light, finally silencing her before hearing a horrible laugh escape her last few moments of life. Why was she laughing? He thought, but his fears subsided for the moment as the two men approached him, crouching near with the others to get him to his feet. Shakily, he managed to stand up, taking deep breathes as an occasional glance moved to the corpse then back to the people. In the short moments he talked, he learned that they were with a secret organization that was organized to fight back against these predators in the city. Many are younger, either losing a parent to the evils of the night, or fought for revenge in kinship. They had apparently heard the commotion and swiftly organized a small team for this sector. What seemed like hours, they walked the lad to his own home, placing a few barriers and spells in order to protect this place from further intruder. They accepted no thanks, only wanting for him to alert if he had any information of any possible shifters in the area. The night surived... but at certain cost.
The next couple weeks seemed relatively normal... of course he stayed a bit more on edge, keeping tabs on all surroundings... not leaving with strange women from the bar unless they took a small test of purity before he allowed them in his home. At this point, the wounds on his chest turned to a light red, 'nary a scratch left from the she devil. Plus he felt more invigorated as well, and a strange aversion to the need to sleep. Small... subtle changes continued with his body, such as his body temperature rising to dangerous levels, and his eyes turning to a light copper color, to finally a stagnent yellow. Overtime, the spells that were placed in his home began to cause irritation. At first he though it was an illness that was overtaking the city, but soon began to realize that the safeguards were targeting him. Paranoia froze him in his tracks, he did not even think about the possible idea of his blood being contaminated like this from that demon... is this why she laughed? Time continued as did himself... but a bit more.
Months later, his body changed more. His muscles more defined, his senses sharpened. The paranoia and terror that gripped him at becoming a monster no longer flooded him. In honestly, he was fine. He felt power, his fear left as he walked home alone, and not only that, there was just something satifying to cause a pred to run in fear from something he thought to be a 'meal'. Over time, he learned he could tap into more of the mental energies of creatures around him which felt to him like hacking a network. Telepathy soon became a powerful tool... or in this case weapon. As just as he though he was being, namely scaring preds, he would catch himself almost becoming one as well, killing a mugger with his bare hands, repeatedly beating him over and over until his face was a pulpy mess... almost killing a random homeless man as well. Bloodlust. It became a very dangerous part of him.
Almost a year later, he managed to control more, being able to influence people with ease... almost making it seem to them that they were merely following a whim without feeling a grab into their mind. However, he also had to hide more in public. The demon blood coursed in his veins and eventually was taking over his normal blood, almost replacing it completely. With it, black marks appeared on his flesh, following the trails of the veins. Not only that, but his eyes became full gold in color as well as two little horns began to form through his scalp, thankfully being hidden by his mass of hair. Little did he know... or he knew but remained in denile about becoming what nearly killed him. His walks at night turned to a blood end for another creature, or citizen of the city. But he was smart about it, and quick. He was fast and did not bother with seduction, or with long drawn out taunts that the other creatures of the night used.
In time, his murders became meals to him, feasting on flesh, savoring the taste of an internal organ on his lips and tongue. Nothing was off the menu. Another pred could be a bigger feast, but a human could be a snack... so easy to kill. But he moved quietly still, not completely arrogant to the hunters in the city, that made a bounty for him. No... he would not pull a mistake that demoness did. However, he did not count on the day that he would encounter something far beyond his power.
One night, with his stomach finishing off the remnents of a poor misguided mugger, he was encountered by some sort of power he had not felt in a very long time. It was near angelic, but not of complete purity. Hell, he killed an angel before, taking her with surprise and a quick lunge to the chest and bite to the neck. No... this was darker. A fallen Celestial. Pure bred angels were soo much easier to fight then a fallen... namely in the fact that fallen angels have less arrogance and are a big less niave. This one was on a mission to cleanse the city, perhaps for the sake of redemption. After a brief exchange of words, the fight began. Magic was cast, punchs thrown, bites and claws drawing all sorts of blood to fall to the streets. In the end though, the angel got the up hand and impaled the half demon, pinning him to the ground before creating a burning sensation within him. It was first an itch... then a searing pain, traveling all through his body as his temperature rose higher and higher. Screams and hisses escaped him as the angel remained stoic, not once, but twice driving a celestial staff onto his left arm, crushing it with ease. In several moments, an intense light took the area as the demi watched the angel stand over him, preparing a final blast... to clease... to purify. In that short time, it felt like a lightning bolt tore through him and in mere seconds, was gone. His body vanished, appearing to be vaporized. The angel stood confused for a moment, not sure on what happened, but no longer sensing such evil, left... his job seemingly done.
In a spectral of light that seemed to last only a few moments, the contorted and bleeding body of the half... former halfbreed vanished. A small ball of light remained for a good second after before fizzing out. What felt like his body being ripped apart and reassembled in a matter of moments, his body reformed in a grassy plane. The light from the radient sun pierced his eyes as he writhed in pain, trying to crawl anywhere, trying to keep out of the light. His mind was ravaged, forever tainted by the demonic essense he held inside him, but at least the blood was gone... but it left him weak. His body was still mangled and he was half nude. His left arm dangled uselessly as he tried to stand, collapsing again. It would seem he would be left to fend for himself... that was until he heard the sound of grinding wheels. Peering out on the horizon was a small wagon, being pulled by two very large oxen, ones he had never seen before in his life. He tried to move out of the way, only to grimise again, crying out as his body laid in the open. What if they are slavers? He thought. In his condition he would be easy to catch... or to kill. The rumbling grew closer as the wagon approached. As he thought, the wagon slowed before creaking to a stop. The two plow beasts snorted, their sizes even more intimating at such a close range. "Oh gods... this is it..."
He heard voices, and the last thing he heard was "city". He was out. When he came to, he was in a soft plush bed, made in something like cotton, but much softer. The architecture was also much different, but it was comforting in a way. He peered from his bed, growling a bit, his left arm wrapped up, several puncture wounds seen, as if they tried to salvage it. He looked down at his body. Bandages. From head to toe he had several large body wraps, he guessed for the burns. A deep breathe left him as he leaned back into the pillow again, turning to the wall, a small window in place as he turned to it. He almost had to do a doubletake at what he saw. Despite the ward he was in being quant and isolated, the outside world was moving. People moved, the buildings towered, everything was bright and shiny, like it had a magical residue. He tried leaning more before grimicing in pain again, just in time for a nurse to come in.
It took a bit to get used to, but it was revealed that he definately wasn't in his own world anymore. More particularly, he was not in the world of Alara, mainly Esper. It was revealed that the wagon was actually a tradesman. After thinking for a moment, the man and his partner picked the lad up and placed him in the back, dropping him off at the medical center. He was apparently out for several days, the nurses doing what they could to treat the burns and gashes, repairing the gaping wound in his side and tried to reconstruct his arm, but to no avail. Questions were asked how he got there... all he knew is that he exploded in a blue light and felt like he fell through several dimensions before landing here. There was also another thing that came up... his arm. It was useless, the bone inside warped to an insane degree and the blood vessels busted and tangled. The healing made it worse, forcing his heart to pump more blood to that waste of space. In the end, the choice was made, and it was to be severed.
Days passed as he tried to get used to not having a limb, the phantom itch slowly getting to him. Within those days however, a knock came at his door. In walked three men... or what looked like men. The two seemed normal enough, except they had metal everywhere on them, and the third did not seem human.