Dormant

18

Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed; for the Lord thy God is with the whithersoever thou goest.
- Joshua 1:9

18

He awoke to purple eyes hovering over him.

Anger flashed through him, red hot and burning as it flowed through his veins. He couldn't help but to recall what those purple eyes had done to him the last time that he had seen them; the laughter that had been dancing through them as their owner completely paralyzed as they fled the area -no, the galaxy- because they had pissed him off.

So, despite everything -the fact that the owner was a female, the fact that they had clearly just resurrected him from a thousand years of solitude as he waited to be reborn, the fact that he owed them now- he felt satisfaction as his knuckles connected with their slim, perfected nose.

Their shriek and black blood that splattered over him was lost to him as he propped himself up on his elbow. Alooc glared at the purple-eyed demon as she danced nearby in pain, hands covering her face as she continued to scream and cry about her nose. Not like it mattered. It would heal back in a few moments.

"What are you doing?" he snarled at her, wiping away some of her blood on his chin.

Mormo. Demon Lordess. She was the fifth of the seven; Mormo was technically the demonic version of a human witch. The Black Plague, yeah, that was her. One wave of her lavender colored hand and she could wipe hundreds of people out, one bat of her eyelashes could cause any man to swoon, one snap of her fingers could ignite an entire half of a planet on fire. It was strange to look at her; from torso up, she was completely human (minus the purple skin, of course) and prided herself immensely on her perfect she was. Her face was as if it had been sculpted by God Himself as the most beautiful woman and her body was even more so. She showed it off every chance she got. At the moment she was nothing but a breastplate that just barely covered her massive breasts; on the armor was designed with demonic symbols and languages. The bottom half of her, however, was not human. That half of her was that of a spider with everything that a spider could possibly ever have, down to the eight legs. Those were probably the scariest part since there was a small tap-tap noise whenever they moved. She was a demon though. Demons were supposed to be scary.

Witches have always been horrifying, portrayed as creatures with dangerous power, magic to be specific, and sometimes seen as beings misunderstood. Creatures that were cursed with strength that they didn't want to have. Mormo wasn't like that. She thrived from the chaos that she could create. With ultimate power, she could do whatever that she wanted and that was what she did every time too. With no equal, Mormo could do whatever that she wanted. Alooc had seen her do almost everything with her magic; create disease, create a human that could last a little while, teleportation, no boundaries. She was cocky and arrogant, knowing that she had seen all and done all.

She was Mormo. A witch. A Demon. A Demon Lordess.

A true bitch.

"Saving your life," she hissed, still covering her perfect little nose behind her small hands to keep it hidden from his view like it actually mattered. "But apparently you're not thankful for me bringing you back from that hellhole!"

Alooc growled, eyes flickering about to see where he was. Same place he had died. The blood splatter from his head being sliced clean from his body was still on the ground, not having had enough time for the soil to absorb it. Bodies of dead Demons laid strewn about across the battleground that hadn't been touched since it had unfolded only hours before when the humans had attacked. The land was completely silent; another danger lurked about besides from the stench of death.