Who's Alistair?

From the shifting shadows, laughter which heralded terrible agony, echoed into the room. Out of the darkened heavens, a massive guillotine blade dropped, shrieking as it fell. The earth shook as it landed, splitting the tortured prisoner and the table he lay upon completely in half. John shielded his face and stepped away as blood sprayed him.

Out of the darkest corner stepped a tall, lean figure with eyes so black that they seemed to swallow up whatever light touched them.

"Come now, mortal. Did you really think you could escape me? Not when I have such sights left to show you," he said.

The Cenobite's voice sounded all too familiar. It brought with it a sense of dread but somehow the actual memories still escaped him. As battered as he was, John knew he stood no chance against this powerful Cenobite.

"I know you, don't I?" John said.

"Now is not the time for games. Only the white hot intensity of pure agony awaits you," Alistair said.

"Why? What did I do?" John said, trying desperately to control his rising anger.

If he attacked him, he knew he'd die. He needed to be smart about this.

"The box... you opened it, we came! Nothing else matters," Alistair said.

"No! I don't believe you! There's more to this, isn't there?" John said, a snowball's-chance-in-hell kind of plan forming in his mind.

"You truly don't remember? Never mind, so long as your soul remembers!" Alistair said with a wicked grin.

"Go to hell!" John screamed, rage peaking.

"I already have," Alistair replied raising his upturned palms to the heavens.

John ducked and rolled forward just as a dozen chained hooks flew at him from the shadows. When he arrived back on his feet, he wrapped his hands around the guillotine blade and jerked it free. The thing was easily two hundred pounds but he was able to swing it around and hurl it with relative ease. There were a series of metallic clangs as a dozen more hooks came from the shadows to swat the flying blade. It broke in half and clattered heavily to the ground, but John was already out the room.

"Come now, John. You only delay the inevitable," he heard from behind as he ran.

A mile or more passed with adrenaline powering his legs despite the ach of overtaxed muscles. Along the way, walls gave way and he was able to stare down into the seemingly endless halls of Labyrinth.

"You can't outrun me, John. Not with all that I have planned for you!" Alistair said, suddenly ahead of him.

John came to a heaving, breathless hault. He had nothing left. Behind him, a mammoth guillotine blade split the clouds and crashed into the hall, blocking any retreat.

"Who are you?! How do I know you?!" he yelled, turning back.

"You might say we're old friends, John. Or so I once thought. But that's all in the past, now. And I'm going to personally tear your soul apart!" Alistair said, angrily.