A Mix Mash of Stories

One man, one demon

The small piece of iron lay atop the counter. It was a key forged to fit only one hole, but now it lay on the table, collecting dust. An ink drawing was burned into the skin of Scorn, a lad cursed with pain. For as long as he could remember, it had been him, constantly feeling excruciating pain. A keyhole, never faded nor stretched, which has never altered. Some part of his mind always knew that he played an important role. At least, that is what the voice inside his head constantly told him. It was like a screeching sound in the back, always sending him into hysterics. Screaming at those above for cursing him with this, “illness”. This creature loved the sound of the poor boy’s desperation, of hearing the young boy's frights, and the sound of the young boy's agony. It particularly enjoyed his fear of dusk, and the creatures roaming, at the dead of night. After years on this Earth, he could not put up with it anymore, and his eyes darted from one side of his room to the other, having overlooked the key that lay on the counter, unused, and the lights, they started to blink out. One after the other, going down the line, all except one. It was the bedside candle that cast an eerie shine across the metal key, and the boy sat there with his heart racing as he saw a shadow creep along the key, begging him to come over, and take it. Scorn looked down at his arm, at the tattoo with a renewed fire in his eyes, his mind was made, he was going to put an end to this whole sham. He shot up from, rushed over to the drawer, and grasped the key in his hands.  He wasn't much of a coward, but the hole, the one he was born with, made him feel, well he wasn’t entirely sure what to feel.  As he looked down, seeing his pain, immediately grabbed the key, before bringing it to his arm. With a heavy breath the metal entered his forearm with little resistance, but as he did so, a voice appeared in his mind. The voice, it had started cackling  with delight,”Yes, yes! Now turn it, fulfill your destiny, and smite the ones who brought this curse down onto him!” Scorn bit his lower lip as he turned the key, with a sense of… That was the thing, he didn’t exactly know what to feel. With a final click, the room went dead silent. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, 3 hours passed, and nothing happened, but Scorn’s lips slowly twitched around the corners where his lips met, started spreading further and further, into a wicked grin. But even as he did so, he felt an intense pain,. Blood spilled from Scorn's face as he spoke in a garbled voice that no longer resembled that of any human,"Now it’s time to show the world what I can really do…” The key fell from the once human arm dripping a purple fluid from the keyhole. After the transformation ended, he tilted his head to the side, he couldn’t help but rub the now sore spot on his scalp as a voice crying out for help from inside kept bothering "him".