Tag: demon vengeance

#17 Marina

| November 23, 2011 | 0 Comments

She could feel the demon approaching her, could feel his intent zeroed in on her just as much as she could feel the interest in him the rest of the room was trying to hide.  He was smooth, it was obvious from the way he slid towards her, and clear in his intent.  So, most likely he’d been sent.  And she could well imagine by whom.  She’d been none too gentle with Jared.

But this demon was in for a few surprises, the first of which being that she wasn’t what Jared had led him to believe.  Not who, but what, because ‘human’ would only describe her in the barest of terms.  She wasn’t even certain if, at this point in the game, it would be appropriate for her to use that term at all.

Certainly she looked the part, even though her long black hair and pale skin gave her an ethereal quality, but she had long lost the important parts, those delicate and sensitive places in a soul that were the corner stones of both the strength and weakness of humanity.  She was cold and maybe even dead inside, she wasn’t sure, she was no necromancer.  She was only lost, trapped on dry land, and cursed to live.  She had no idea for how long.  She only knew that she had not aged, even though by all rights she should be dead and rotted out by now.

And even after all these years, she still craved the company of men enough to play these games, to become the story they wanted to hear.  And she would play her part so well that there was no parting that was kind.  But her kind were never exactly masters at gentle leavetakings.  It was traditionally their role to cut and run, if not the minute they saw fit, then the minute their captors let down their guard.  Because inevitably the longer she stayed, the harder it was for her lover to let go.

She wished she had been so wise when she had been young, and the city had been young, and the coast was still a wilderness.  When she had fallen so hard for a man that she had willingly given him her pelt, so that he could keep her with him, so that the sea no longer had a hold over her.  She had been exceedingly young and exceedingly stupid, and for all she knew the man she had thought she loved had been buried with her pelt beside him.

It would have fit the pattern.  It went along well with the curse he somehow laid upon her when she left him, if not for the sea, then at least for somewhere away from him.  She had thought that maybe time would have loosened his grip, his obsession, his anger.  But he died without giving her the one thing she wished for.  Her freedom to return to her home.  What she had too late come to realize was her true home, far off the shore, in the unforgiving depths that ranged the coastline.

She wondered idly, as the demon sat before her and speared her with his beautiful eyes, if he would like to savor her true agony.  She wondered if he would be another of many, incapable of letting her go, therefore incapable giving her the happiness that only her freedom could provide.  But he was a demon, so her happiness would never be an issue.  And without her pelt, she was but half a creature, her soul lost in the depths far off the shore somewhere.  She doubted she would ever let him deep enough to taste the sorrow that beat within her, as unrelenting and salty as the sea which daily called her down.  She wondered, though, if she did– would it be enough to drown him as it did her?

#16 Blade

| November 23, 2011 | 0 Comments

#16 Blade

 

Smooth as silk and as sharp as glass.  He knew this was what he was, he knew this was what he looked like when he walked across a room.  He had it on good authority, and even if he may have been an utter failure of a demon, he could still feel the want, fear, and hunger he inspired.  He’d have to be dead not to, and half-starved as he always was, he was always ready to soak in what energy got thrown his way, even when it was little more than a vague unsettled irritation that he was not for them.

There was one who would give him far more than that, he knew.  She didn’t stand a chance. His next meal, his next treasure, his next masterpiece.  She had never met him, but the knew more about her than she probably cared for anyone to know at the moment.  But that’s what happens when you confide in and then brutally tear apart a boy who knows a thing or two about vengeance.  And Demons.

He was Summoned, as was proper, and the young man in question made his deal, the same deal that all of them make when they summon him.  Or summon an idea and get him.  for the rest of his life the man would relive all his torments, his personal tragedies, his agonies, upon Blade’s request.  It was a good deal, considering.  Most demons have far simpler requests- your soul, to torture for an eternity after death.  Although most of the time the detail about torture was left out.  In Blade’s opinion, one would be a fool not to expect it, though, when dealing with a demon.  Pain was, after all, their favored form of sustenance.

In exchange for the young man’s pain, Blade would exact a precise and vicious form of vengeance upon the girl in question.  Simply put, over time, he would destroy her.  Systematically.  Until the young man balked or the young woman died, most often by her own hand.  He would make the vengeful party watch, make them witness the fruits of their labor in excruciating detail, as these memories would be some of the most agonizing, and the guilt that came with them was one of Blade’s favorite flavors.

Fair?  No, it was not fair.  It might have seemed fair in the beginning, vengeance always does.  But one was a complete fool to think that calling upon hell for satisfaction would ever end gently.  Even when one was playing with a demon so far removed from his vicious origins that all he fed upon was the pain of justice meted out unmercifully on careless creatures who called out for hell itself to do a job they should have done for themselves in the first place.

And he was not so broken a demon as to ever consider mercy.