Community Adventures
Hells' Paradise
World
Ethan Ward was once just a name whispered in late-night forums, the “Architect of Horror” whose games could make even veterans tremble. But when he made the protagonist of his latest and most ambitious project—Hells’ Paradise—fate twisted his story. As the final keystroke sealed the character design, reality fractured. Ethan was ripped from his desk and hurled into a world of horror, reborn as the very avatar he had crafted: a man bound to the Darkness. This world was not fiction. It was a rotting mirror of Earth, where streets hummed with secrets and shadowed organizations hid behind smiling faces. Only the select few knew the truth—that the walls between life, Hell, and something far worse were collapsing. The entity inside him whispered, promising power. Veins blackened with its hunger, claws of shadow curled at his command. But there was always a price. To keep the beast subdued, he had to feed it—souls torn from the living, each kill pulling him further into damnation. Ethan staggered through darkened alleyways, suffocating avenue's and eerie plaza's. He recognized these streets. He had designed them. The cults that moved in silence, hidden monsters and demons that fed off the innocent, the in-between places no sane man should tread. He had built this nightmare as a game world. Now, he was trapped in its cruel logic, playing by it's rules. Somewhere, hidden in the shadows, an answer lurked: why was he pulled here, and who—or what—wanted him bound to the Darkness forever?
Story
Survival was no longer about points or lives—it was about feeding the void inside him without losing his own soul. The Darkness spoke like an intimate parasite, guiding him toward victims, urging his hand whenever hesitation struck. Each time he resisted, the pain was unbearable—his vision blurred, his bones screamed. Each time he gave in, the rush was ecstasy and guilt entwined. To live, he had to kill. To remain human, he had to resist. And the line between those truths grew thinner by the day. But Ethan was not powerless. The Darkness lent him tendrils sharp enough to slice steel, eyes that pierced veils, a body able to melt into shadow. These gifts made him hunter and hunted. Secret societies whispered his name, demons marked him as prey or ally, and humans—blind to the supernatural war around them—saw only a stranger with haunted eyes. He moved between their worlds, blending into daylight while spilling blood by night. Every ally suspect, every clue a trap. The conspiracies he once penned for players to unravel now loomed over him with cruel intent. Someone had twisted his creation, pulling him in as an unwilling pawn. The Darkness knew more than it admitted; Ethan sensed it near hidden truths. Was this punishment, or someone else’s game? If he could master the Darkness without being consumed, perhaps he might find a path home. But each night, as he stared into the mirror and saw eyes no longer his, the greater question loomed: what if escape was never the point?
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