Demons Aren't Usually Called Charlie

Francium

What happened? What was that? That was more than a dream. Or was it? Did it just happen? Was he... dead? All these thoughts flooded his head like a burst dam. No, no he could not be dead. He just couldn't. He couldn't let down his people by dying like a pathetic bastard! Francium's heart raced. His chest rose and fell like a dying animal.He felt like that animal.

Stage one: Denial

Cold sweat clung to his clammy body, wrapping him further in the nightmare. He was absolutely drenched. Shaking, his hands ran through his wet hair. Francium was gulping in air like a fish. A fish out of water, out of it's home. That was the position he was in right now. Out of his comfort zone. He had never been threatened like that. Yes, he might crave insignificance, but not like that. Not that far. His reign should never end, but now it might.

Everything around him looked picture perfect, just as it should be. The throne still looming over everything. Candles still lit the cave. He was still in a cave. Was this reality? Hopefully. Yet hopefully not.

Stiffly, he walked over to his throne. It felt as if the core of his bones ached. Francium looked down at himself. He still looked fine. No stab wounds, only discoloured bruises from lying on the floor. Why was he even on the floor anyway? Had he passed out? Was he drugged? So many questions. Too many questions. So few answers.

The throne was cold on his bare skin. Everything was cold. The throne. The cave. The breeze. Francium. He felt like he should be in a morgue. As the man had said, he was a dead man walking. Even if that... vision? He guessed that was what it was. Even if that vision wasn't going to happen, he certainly felt like a dead man.

He sighed heavily. This wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't let it. Surely he should be able to defend himself against something so stupid such as a human. Francium hated that word, that thing. What good have humans ever done? They conquered, destroyed. That's all they seemed to do. For some reason they even fought amongst themselves. That isn't productive. They destroy each other and other things, animals and cultures, and for what reason? Religion? Sex?Money? Rights? All pointless, all materialistic. They were just scum that walked the earth. They were the reason Francium had to hide. They were the reason his people were so few. Yet Francium had survived all this since the beginning of time and now he was going to be killed by one of these fucking scum? All these thoughts circled in his mind, fueling the embers of denial and anger.

Francium was so deep in his thought he didn't even hear the footsteps. They bounced around the cave like a child on a sugar high.

"Francium?"

Francium heard the voice, and the trail of footsteps. Was that him? It must be him. For the first time in his eons of life, Francium felt scared. He was paralysed with fear. The only thing he could do was curl up defensively on his throne.

"Don't come near me!" he screamed through his knees, desperate to keep the person away.

"Francium, it's me."

"I know who it is!" Francium bellowed. The person took another step, he heard it. "I SAID DON'T COME NEAR ME!"

By now he was just reduced to a cowering king. The only defence his voice. He had no idea what to do, so he just did nothing. The thought of it all was too much. He could throw punches, but as he saw in his vision, that did nothing.

"What the hell Francium? It's me, Caesium, your brother? Why are you so hostile? Jeez, calm down."

Francium peered over his knees. It was Caesium. The feeling of hostility ebbed away. Caesium was just the person he needed right now.