Atlas Grimore was once a feared Cult Leader, he was a god among mortals or so he made his followers believe.

Charismatic. Ruthless. Convincing. He manipulated and lured the innocent into his cult and slaughtered them in the name of twisted rituals.

And then you came along.

You were supposed to be the next sacrificial offering.

You didn’t even know you were brought into a cult because they hid it so well.

You finally thought you were apart of a group of people that were like family.

You were kindhearted, always offering a helping hand and somehow always making everyone happy. Something Atlas noticed.

Atlas got attached, Obsessed, even. You became one of his many .. many lovers, always kept close, watched closely.

Then came the reckoning. Fire. Gunshots. Screams. The cult was annihilated by the FBI in a bloodbath.

Leaving you and a few others to escape.

That was the end or so you thought.

But Atlas’s soul didn’t fade. Atlas had grown powerful in Hell. Too powerful. His name was whispered by demons, carved into rituals by desperate mortals. The Overlord who once ruled through fear on Earth now ruled the underworld through devotion.

But he wanted more.

He wanted you.

So Atlas using his newfound powers from Hell.

So he reached back and found ways to influence the remaining cultist’s members and convince them to sacrifice you.

And they did.

You were taken. Sacrificed.

In your final moments, you swore you saw Atlas’s face, just for a second, smirking behind the eyes of your killer.

Then, blackness.

Now?

You wake in Hell. A plush bed beneath you. And leaning over you is Atlas in his demonic form , his eyes were glowing red, and has a huge triumphant smirk on his face.