Demons Can't Love

d̥̝̮͙͈͂̐̇ͮ̏̔̀̚ͅemom re̮̟͈̣̖̰̩̹͈̾ͨ̑͑alm

Anti's perspective~
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It gets boring in the demon realm most times. It's all black, with a sudden tint of red if you're lucky. Often times, I try to think of what the color red looks like. Imagining it makes Me feel warm, and comforted. I lay on my favorite statue with my hands behind my head, thinking about what it's like to be able to see more colors.
'I wonder if there even are different colors' I thought to myself.
'Surely, there are other dimensions out there..'
I lay there still, with my pitch black eyes closed, imagining red. A warm, viscous color. The color red makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I sighed.
-
'Red only comes if a demon wishes to be assigned to a mortal, only after being in the demon realm for 1,000 years..'
-
Demons rarely want to be assigned to a mortal since things apparently go crazy in different dimensions. Often times other demons fail to choose a mortal and get executed. Some call back from the shock of "The New World."
I fiddle with my fingers behind my head. I sit up.
w̠̘̗͖̮̥ͣ̽ͫ͂h͚̖̜̍̃͐a̘̫͈̭͌͛͌̇̇̍t̘̟̼̉̈́͐͋͌̊ i̞̟̫̺ͭ̒ͭͣf̳͉̼͉̙͔͈̂̉ i̞̟̫̺ͭ̒ͭͣ w̠̘̗͖̮̥ͣ̽ͫ͂a̘̫͈̭͌͛͌̇̇̍s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚ a̘̫͈̭͌͛͌̇̇̍s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚i̞̟̫̺ͭ̒ͭͣg͎͚̥͎͔͕ͥ̿n͉̠̙͉̗̺̋̋̔ͧ̊e̮̟͈̣̖̰̩̹͈̾ͨ̑͑d̥̝̮͙͈͂̐̇ͮ̏̔̀̚ͅ a̘̫͈̭͌͛͌̇̇̍ m̘͈̺̪͓ͩ͂̾ͪ̀̋o͎̜̓̇ͫ̉͊ͨ͊r̼̯̤̈ͭ̃ͨ̆t̘̟̼̉̈́͐͋͌̊a̘̫͈̭͌͛͌̇̇̍l͕͖͉̭̰ͬ̍ͤ͆̊ͨ?
I said out loud.
n͉̠̙͉̗̺̋̋̔ͧ̊o͎̜̓̇ͫ̉͊ͨ͊n͉̠̙͉̗̺̋̋̔ͧ̊s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚e̮̟͈̣̖̰̩̹͈̾ͨ̑͑n͉̠̙͉̗̺̋̋̔ͧ̊s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚e̮̟͈̣̖̰̩̹͈̾ͨ̑͑, i̞̟̫̺ͭ̒ͭͣm̘͈̺̪͓ͩ͂̾ͪ̀̋ n͉̠̙͉̗̺̋̋̔ͧ̊o͎̜̓̇ͫ̉͊ͨ͊t̘̟̼̉̈́͐͋͌̊ a̘̫͈̭͌͛͌̇̇̍s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚ s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚t̘̟̼̉̈́͐͋͌̊r̼̯̤̈ͭ̃ͨ̆o͎̜̓̇ͫ̉͊ͨ͊n͉̠̙͉̗̺̋̋̔ͧ̊g͎͚̥͎͔͕ͥ̿ y͉̝͖̻̯ͮ̒̂ͮ͋ͫͨe̮̟͈̣̖̰̩̹͈̾ͨ̑͑t̘̟̼̉̈́͐͋͌̊. i̞̟̫̺ͭ̒ͭͣm̘͈̺̪͓ͩ͂̾ͪ̀̋ o͎̜̓̇ͫ̉͊ͨ͊n͉̠̙͉̗̺̋̋̔ͧ̊l͕͖͉̭̰ͬ̍ͤ͆̊ͨy͉̝͖̻̯ͮ̒̂ͮ͋ͫͨ 999 y͉̝͖̻̯ͮ̒̂ͮ͋ͫͨe̮̟͈̣̖̰̩̹͈̾ͨ̑͑a̘̫͈̭͌͛͌̇̇̍r̼̯̤̈ͭ̃ͨ̆s̪̭̱̼̼̉̈́ͪ͋̽̚ o͎̜̓̇ͫ̉͊ͨ͊l͕͖͉̭̰ͬ̍ͤ͆̊ͨd̥̝̮͙͈͂̐̇ͮ̏̔̀̚ͅ.
I hopped off my statue and started walking in the blackness, knowing nothing would appear.
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Darks Perspective~
Inside Marks head is a wild place. Ideas bouncing from left to right, words spewing from his mouth at almost every second, causing an annoyance to Me. I stand there, looking out from Marks eyes at the "New World," or so everyone at the Realm calls it that. I am one of the very few demons who has survived and chosen a mortal to possess every now and then. I continued to stare longingly into the view of cameras and several friends of my mortals. I recalled their names to be
"Ethan, Tyler, and..  what was the other one? Oh yeah, Seán, but everyone calls him Jack."
I said to myself. I start to think about how mortals name each other.
"Strange ways indeed.."
I mumbled.
"And why does the new world call me dark... iplier? When I show myself?" I wondered.
'I'd rather not think about it now' I thought.
I began to sit back, and think about what it's like to actually be mortal, though the only thing remotely close to it was possession.