You held the knife to the throat of the demon once again, this time the smile on your face gone, entirely. Leaning down to be sure that your face was exactly level with the demon’s, you turned your eyes to black, earning yourself a fearful grimace from the old rogue.
“I’ve been trying to be patient with you, Sifridus,” you whispered to him in smooth Middle High German, never breaking your eye contact with runaway. The demon’s eyes widened at your choice to switch to his native tongue, one that had gone extinct long ago; the switch, of course, made it more clear to him that you were done playing games. “I think you’d agree that I have been plenty kind to you while you refuse to give me answers, yes?”
The demon was quivering against the tree, something that you could see because of your close stance but could also feel through the mental ropes you were projecting onto him; they were invisible, the forces that bound him, but they were certainly useful. A small moan came from the lips of the demon, followed immediately by a cough.
“Come on, now,” you sang, using the tip of the blade to cut a small slice on the chin of the demon, watching it sizzle a moment before willing it to heal back up. “I’ve offered you a deal and I think it’s in your best interest to take it.”
“Why would I take a deal from you?”
“Well,” you leaned back and crossed your arms over your chest, taking a few steps backward in the process. Conveniently for you there was another tree only a few feet from the one that Sifridus, a 13th century demon with a creative mind that you gave a decent amount of responsibility to in the past. You leaned back against the bark of the tree behind you. “In all your years knowing me, Sifridus, how many times have I given out deals?”
The demon spat at you. “How do I know you’ll keep it?”
“Would I have wasted all this time and energy questioning you,” you pointed the knife at the demon, “and trying to get you to take this deal if I wasn’t being serious?”
The demon simply stared at you with a curious expression, a small smirk painting itself on his face. Irritated by this, you sent a surge of energy his way and watched as the demon began to convulse, blood beginning to pour from his nose, mouth, and the corners of his eyes. He yelled, the sound slightly bubbly because of the increasing amount of blood in his throat, and growled at you when you finally freed him from the agony.
“You’re growing soft, Y/N.” The demon yelled at you with eyes slammed shut just before laughing, the kind of maniacal laugh that usually follows a fresh torture; a denial laugh, that’s what it was. “There’s still blood in this meat suit. You can do better.”
You walked up to the demon and grabbed his meat suit by the hair atop its head. “I don’t think you want me to.”
“I think,” the demon snapped at you, the smile sinking from his face, his words speeding up with each syllable, “That your hiatus has made you weak. You want to be like the humans, everyone knows it, and that’s messing with your judgment.”
A surge, a cough, a yell. You let go of his head.
“Have you heard about the Winchester, Y/N?” The demon yelled at you once again, his words escaping his mouth in yell immediately following your mental release. “I heard Cain got to him a while back, sent the righteous son of a bitch down the path most traveled.” Sifridus laughed at his own words. “That entire bloodline is like a mind-altering drug for us, Y/N, and you’re the last one I ever expected to fall for it.”
“Are you going to take the deal, Sifridus?” You asked, your face purposefully void of all expression, “Or should I send you to talk with the eternals for a bit?”
YOU ARE READING
Hell's Greatest Weapon
FanfictionAfter centuries of incessant war, Reader finally managed to settle down into a normal human life; she attended medical school, bought a house, made friends that didn't make a habit of killing everything that moved. She was out of the life, out of H...
