C'thelli's Demonic Orphanage (Completed and Editing)

24

With the sight of the children motionless on the ground, Feimo's temperature plunged like a head under water. With chattering lips and widened eyes, he rushed into the central aisle and knelt beside the two girls and fussed over them with delicate claws. 

"Where Ralgin go?" La mort asked, more dumbfounded than usual.

"Oh, where indeed. Ralgin, was never an angel, La mort - never your friend." Dom muttered with an icy tone from his altar. You let them play you, Feimo. Do they not show you the book of angels in the Underworld?"

"What did you do to them?" Anger and panic hitched in his throat, and none of it could be swallowed down. 

"Do calm yourself, I only tore away their disguise. They're still very much alive, can't you hear their heart beats?" He could not. His only sign of life within the girls was a thin strand of Robin's hair flowing against the air exhaling from her lips. 

But what of Algie? A glance to the purple girl revealed no hair upon her head, her raven locks had been cleaved off - Robin's hat served to cover it up. But why? Why would they do this?

"Besides, we need them alive for the ritual, La mort, be a dear would you?" As instructed, the dim-witted gargoyle trudged forward and went to grasp Algie by the wrist. However, with his feet planted into the carpet and his generous nature frayed to atoms, Feimo gave the beast a forceful shove.

"Heyy, un-cool." It protested with a claw soothing its chest.

"Dom, you can't be serious. Using the children? Have you gone mad? You have everything you need, you have the wings, the halo, and there's plenty of blood in those coffins." The demon pleaded with his friend, even going so far as to climb the steps towards the altar with a severe ire. The Griffin wings were hidden in the confessionary, the halo in the priest's hands, and the cadavers of Louis and Elise, pale, lifeless and ready to rest. None was enough for him. "Just let us go. Please?"

But the vampire merely shook his head solemnly, "The prophecy said the life blood of God's creation, not the dead blood. Those stiffs won't work."

"Then how about yourself? You want to go through with this, why not make the sacrifice?" 

"I'm undead, Feimo. My blood won't work either. This is why it has to be the children, this is our sacrifice." Dom whispered as he took a step towards him. 

Retreating in time to the vampire's pace, the demon protested, "Ours? No, this is yours now. I refuse to go through with this. This isn't good at all."

"Not good? Feimo do you even hear yourself? We are on the cusp of saving the world. Of mounting the greatest revolution known to man and overthrowing a tyrant, and you want to back out now? When we're so close? When everything we need is right here?

"Then why not somebody else? Is patience not a virtue anymore?"

"Is inaction simply stalling?" Dom let out a small sigh and eased his features before retrying his approach. The demon had evaded him well enough that his heels ended up against the edge of the stairs beside the altar. The sudden rearrangement of gravity threw him off-balance, and while his arms swung out to regain his balance, the vampire struck.

With a supernatural speed, two long and veiny hands as frigid as winter's breath, grabbed him by the shoulders. "Please, Feimo, can't you see this is for the greater good?"

"Let go of me! This is nuts." He tried to pull away, to grab at his hands and pry them off. But as swift as he could be, he immediately felt the shock of death's frosty touch cup his cheeks and freeze him in place.

"Don't you trust me anymore? After what we've done together, the perils we've shared? We only need one of them for the ritual. Can't you place your faith in me?" Dom's soft murmur in the demon's ear trickled in like poison, attacking his mind and rendering him weary. He wanted to trust him, he truly did. After all the time and laughs they shared, he thought they had understood each other.