Demonic beginnings in the pits of blood (Promo)

[Duarte: El Hombre Diaboli]

Deep within the forgotten forests of southern Mexico, hidden among the lush, dense forest lies a fragment of forgotten history. A colony of Aztecs.

There is a view across the horizon of a setting sun and vibrant forest. The view seemed to be from a camcorder, there are four people. Three men and a woman who ventured deep into this forgotten territory. As they continued, soon the sounds of drums sang in the air. The camcorders' view had soon changed as the man who held it had now squatted. The drums were loud and rhythmic and there were also voices, voices that spoke an odd language that was confusing to the ears.

The most noticeable feature of this vision was the woman who stood still, tied to a pole as men with blades danced around her...

SNAP

Someone had stepped on a twig? The man who held the camcorder had suddenly dropped it to the floor as his screams became the most noticeable noise. A red shadow flew over head as blood churning screams were heard. There was now some blood splatter across the camera lens. Oddly enough the camera had soon started to crackle. A figure stood in its sights.

He was a tall man with crimson hair and eyes that matched. His skin was of a deathly pale tone. He had a well built figure as he seemed to drag along a body with him. His eyes were now affixed to the camcorder. His red eyes swirled with a maddening malice as he lifted it. His eyes now show a unique curiosity as he soon breaks it.

Oddly enough the screen is now black. Though a solitary man walks forth and stands with a rigid dignity. He was clad in red, he sported a cane and a set of glasses. A red fedora covered his head and most of his face, all that could be seen was his malicious smile.

When this had happened to me, when this beast of a man had found me and snapped my arm like a twig, something came to me. It was a voice, a voice that commanded me to bring this engine of destruction into the modern world. You see that red haired youth is no man, but a vessel. A vessel that needs to cause pain, to maim, to hurt, to break in order to sate a hunger deeper than any of a normal mans. Unfortunately for you XZW I have decided to bring him here. He can get his wet his feet and run rampant here. I suggest you all do something before he realizes what he can do. I am Mr. Satan and he is Duarte, El Hombre Diabolico. And he comes for blood!

The screen shifts to various gross images of this red haired man Duarte pounding away at the bodies of three of the explorers that had been previously shown. The man known as Mr. Sata was bound as was forced to watch his team undergo various tortures from this one person. Echos and yells of madness trinkle away into nothing as the images end.