I expected to open my eyes to the scene that had been playing in my head for a while, the one where I killed Lynilis. But I was surprised to find myself somewhere else. A smaller room, darker and damper and definitely more gloomy. Like a prison.
At my feet was a demon. Heavy chains were bound to his wrists, ankles, and neck, his wings shackled to prevent him from flying. Like he could fly in here. I didn't doubt that if he stood, his horns would scrape the ceiling.
I didn't recognize the demon until he looked up at me.
Larux.
His eyes were dull, their glow faint. He wasn't pained by the looks of it, but one look at the spear I realized I was carrying showed why I was there.
His mouth moved, but his words seemed jumbled, faint. His expression was pleading.
I gripped the spear, looking down it's sharp end. I looked back down at Larux.
I closed my eyes as I drove the point through his neck. Something wet splattered on my hands. Blood, dark and nearly black.
Larux's body slumped to the ground. His head rolled a bit farther.
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"Larux!"
I yelled his name as I bolted upright. My palms were sweaty and shaky as I rubbed my eyes, telling myself, it's just a dream, it's just a dream.
I had no problem with killing people. It was the one I was killing that I was disturbed by.
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Angelic Omen
FantasyOmen is no stranger to torture. To pain. He is a torture demon, after all - adapted to suffering and bringing pain to his adversaries. But this is only physical. When it comes to mental infliction... he is entirely vulnerable. This wasn't a problem...
