BadBoyHalo: The 808th Demon

-Chapter 19- Madness

807 jumped up from his seat at the sound of 612's coughing from the other room. Oh great, the Elders were coming, most likely to nag at him once more. He sneered wildly, for this was becoming quite bothersome and monotonous. When the corridor groaned open, they stood pale and wrinkly before him. They were weak, revealed in their pendulous stances; they wore some nasty frowns, ones of true disappointment and disbelief.

Not good.

"What now, Elder?" 807 slumped back down. "I didn't do anything, if that's what you're wondering."

The head Elder ignored the remark. "#482 died last night." His voice was coarse and strained.

"Well that's unfortunate."

"We have decided to strip you of your kingship."

Now that sure hit him the wrong way. After all the work he had done, it was going to end here—by his own subjects. No, this couldn't be the time to shut it all down, this couldn't be where his plans dissolved! Not while it was at the home stretch!

"Elder please, I am so close," he pleaded. "Give me one more night and—"

"We lost a life due to inadequate supply of souls. Enough is enough of your silly charade. Hand over the crown and we will take control of this."

807's blood was boiling, and he seethed with anger. It was all just out of his grasp, he could almost touch it with his wiry fingers, just barely scraping the tips of his ivory nails. And now it was yanked away, suspended a bit farther for him to flail his arms at. In wild defense he snarled loudly, "You can't make me!" and struck the floor with his heel, sending out a spray of sparks in the Elders' direction.

But only one had hit the head Elder's toe.

All were silent, yet it couldn't have been louder in that chamber. The sacred Jar dangled worriedly above them holding the last handfuls of souls swimming about; and the stone faces that sentineled the walls were full of anguish. 807 still stood firmly, but his gaze had changed. Looking down at the Elders was proved to be a harder task than anticipated. A line was crossed that he shouldn't have, and there was no turning back.

The head Elder launched the first attack, causing all the others to scramble out of the way. A jolt of black sprayed out from his hands and toward the Platform. 807 sunk into the floor as it flew up the wall, and responded with fire drawn from the wall torches. A punch was thrown, a tail was thwacked, a horn was thrusted— magic and melee came together into one disorganized dispute.

"Old hag!" 807 spat, no longer having any shame for his foul mouth. "You just won't understand, will you?" He gashed the Elder's cheek with his claws.

"It's you who refuses to understand!" A kick to the throat and a ghostly javelin to the wing.

The other Elders had accumulated themselves to the sidelines, and watched. Although one attempted to interfere after witnessing 807 give a nasty blow to the head's side, 612 had stopped him. Without even saying a word, he made it clear that this was their battle only. The young and the old, the arrogant and the wise.

The White and the Black.

There was more fire and lightning, and blood was now sputtering from both and onto the sooty floor. The head Elder pushed forth a wave of sulfur that sent 807 careening toward the wall. He used his tail to bounce back and send another wild kick to the jaw. As they shifted their fight to go along the sides of chiseled stone, the carved heads flinched in horror, spitting out blood and sweat that had been speckled onto them. Yet they continued to aimlessly wander around the Shrine whilst beating the horns off each other. Soon 807 found himself in a corner, opposite of the Platform, and the head took immediate advantage. 807 was absolutely knocked senseless, consciousness was barely hanging on to him when he finally stopped skidding.