A demonic love story

1. Introduction

Mavka's hands were sore from the relentless scrubbing of the stone floor of Satan's fortress. The horsehair brush sounded like the crunch sand between teeth with each forward and back.

Hell was hot, like always, but it did not bother her, she had known nothing else, she was born in Hell which was 'not possible'. Mavka was a low class demon so if she ever spoke up about being born in Hell she would have her tongue cut out as a minimum.

As she worked two higher class demon's son's approached her. They shared a glance before kicking her in the side and sending her rolling across the cold floor her trousers and tunic snagged on a sharp piece of stone. Mavka grabbed at her long, thorn-like, black dagger and drew it out its leather sheath, pointing it at the two men.

On a closer inspection, the men looked about twenty six and clearly came from a family of demons because of the markings on their faces, compared to her own thorn of a blade and small soft marking. They laughed at Mavka's small blade and puny threat whilst advancing menacingly, showing their huge canines, almost tusks.

Mavka gripped her blade tighter in her hands as they pulled out their own longer, thicker and sharper weapons. The only reason that they would target her is if the supply of food is short and that they are getting rid of another mouth to feed, but she did not belong to their house, she worked for Satan and his general sector. This made no sense.

One of them lunged for her but Mavka quickly got out of the way, the second one followed immediately after that and she only just missed the swing of his blade. When the first one lunged again, she was ready, a quick flick of her wrist sliced through the mans tricep. He howled with pain and the second man took a swing this time catching her cheek and making it bleed.

Mavka's blood was warm and black just like every other demon's as it ran down her burning cheek. Fury, fuelled by adrenaline and pain, coursed through her veins as she bolted for the second man who had hurt her. The thorn in her hand plunged straight into his chest and he screamed loud enough for heaven to hear. He fell to the floor and Mavka turned her attention to the first man would was rolling on the newly cleaned floor, clutching his bloody arm, shrieking with pain.

She put him out of his misery with one clean slice of his throat, and Mavka welcomed back the silence as fury and energy drained from her body.