Warning for younger audiences: this chapter has gore, so pass if you aren't mature enough for it.

Trivik shouts at the top of his lungs, nearby windows shattering from its high-pitched nature, and it sounds much like nails scraping against glass. His stump throbs, and his breathing grows heavy from hatred and anguish. Suddenly, the flesh from his chest moves to his head, and massive jaws open up, teeth growing in the appearance of an angler fish's to snap the Drevillik in a swift motion.

The Drevillik groans as his upper body sits within Trivik's fangs that act like barbwire. Blood pools in the Reverse Drevillik's mouth, warming his mind from an instinctual fondness to blood's irony flavor. Trivik's foul breath enters his nostrils as the moisture and warmth of the man's insides act like a smelly sauna.

"Reapa, ya want this body dyin' on ya? Do ya want my vessel's blood on ya hands? I think not," the Drevillik weakly mutters, and Trivik opens his mouth, letting the demon fall to the ground with his strength sapped from the severity of the deep bite marks.

Each puncture in his flesh flows with blood like an overfilled wine glass. With each heartbeat, the crimson spurts, leaking onto the stone tiles beneath him. The Drevillik gasps, smiling pathetically as he grasps near his breast, ripping the fabric to get closer. His hand brushes against his dark chest hair, and he slowly turns his head to Sun, who rests on the ground in agony from dragging against it, before his attention shifts back to Trivik whose mouth churns with foam.

"Reapa... Reapa, he's goin' ta die. Do ya care?" The Drevillik says frantically, dreading the death of his body since he'd be forced to fight Trivik to his personal death. Trivik vehemently stares at him before letting out a breath of air, levitating his veiny foot above his face. The Drevillik gulps, closing his eyes in preparation for his skull to be smashed open like cracking an egg with fingers. But instead of yolk and clear fluid, maroon and pieces of his gooey brain would come out to stain the ground.

Why quiver in fear? It's such a lame way to die for a demon. You should look up to the Overworld and scream for the light only to discover it's gray in the tragedy of existence.

Trivik seems to stomp, stopping centimeters away as the Drevillik's shut eyelids twitch. His big toe's claw extends, and he pierces the hidden eye, collapsing on the ground with his soul sucked from his body, and his person shifts to his human form once more, though he's much skinnier and lacks the massive muscle mass he previously carried.

Uncaring of his placement inside the soul of the human whose body the Drevillik stole, His head envelops in warmth that swiftly blazes to a full fire, and his heart is a lava pit. A smile spreads across his lips, his body contracts and extends in several places in a fickle manner, and his entire structure becomes that of a new monster.

His head is that of a fat-faced crocodile with teeth so large his dislocated mouth can't shut, and horns from a bull sprout from the sides of his skull. His humanoid upper body becomes bulky with hard abdominals and an exceedingly vast chest. His slender, praying mantis arms feel the need to kill with the large sickles attached to the ends, similar to the curved blades on the back of his stout, short legs. He glows with such intensity and warmth that he's hard to lay eyes on.

Trivik's blurred vision fades like fog, and he squints into the darkness he resides in. Nothing exists, yet some does. He stands on a floor, but it appears like a bottomless void. In front of him, lights shine onto the ground, reflecting to show the outline of several planks that rest under Trivik and a man in front of him who shivers.

The man sits in fetal position, his knees digging into his breast. His body lacks all weight, narrowing at the cheeks and around his bones. Nothing covers his nude flesh but black bruises and festering wounds, and his black hair grew out, falling into his face to cover his eyelids with no spheres in the sockets behind the black, crudely sewn strings.

Behind the man, Trivik's enemy stands and awaits a challenge with a smirk on his face. The Drevillik cracks his fist-sized knuckles, holding his enormous body proudly while he surveys Trivik's threat level, and he isn't fazed in the slightest.

Thanks for reading chapter five! Don't be a silent reader. Comment away! Anything you'd like! Feedback of all kind is appreciated! Also, I highly appreciate shares and votes.

So, what's your favorite Drevillik form so far? Comment beside your choice.

1. Trivik's preferred Drevillik form

2. Sun's Halfie form (human body with Drevillik head)

3. Trivik's Drevillik wolf form

4. The Drevillik's eye form (he's only the eyes in the man's body he took over)

5. Trivik's sickle arm form (this chapter)

6. The Drevillik's true form (not shown till next chapter greatly)