The small piece of iron, forged to fit only one hole, lay on the table collecting dust. An ink drawing was burned into the skin of Scorn, a keyhole about the size of a man’s thumb. For as long as he could remember it had been apart of his life, never fading, never stretching, never unlocking. Some part of his mind always new that he played an important role, well, at least the voice inside his mind constantly reminded him. The screeching noise always sent Scorn into hysteria, screaming at those above for cursing him with this demon inside, the thing that loved the sound of the poor boy’s anguish, of the young man's terrors, and the scent scent of his fear at night. After eighteen years of being on this earth he could not put up with it anymore, making his eyes darted from one side of his room to the other, overlooking the key that laid unused on his table. Suddenly all the lights in the room blinked out except one, a light from the bedside candle casted a dull shine across the metal key. The boy sat there, blood pressure rising as he saw a shadow creep around the key, beckoning him to come over and take the key. Scorn looked down at his arm, glaring at the tattoo with a renewed fire in his eyes. He shot from where he sat and rushed over to the drawer, grasped the key in his hands. He wasn't a brave guy, but the decrepit hole made him uneasy. As he looked it over, blowing away the dust that found home on the metal key's surface, right before bringing the end to his arm. With a heavy breath the metal entered his tattoo with little resistance, the voice cackling in his mind with delight,”YES! YES! Now turn it, fulfill your destiny and smite the ones who brought this curse down onto you!” Scorn screamed with every movement of the key, the pain unbearable, as a torrent of blood flowed from around the key. WIth the final click of the key, the room went dead silent. Seconds turned into minutes as nothing occurred, but Scorn’s lips were slowly twitching, the corners where his lips spreading further and further, into a wicked smile, he did so until the sound of taunt skin snapping filled the room. Blood spilled from “his” face as he spoke, a garbled noise that held no resemblance to being human,”Now it’s time to show the world what I can really do…hehehe.” The key fell from the once human’s arm, a purple fluid dripping from the keyhole shaped hole that was disintegrating from his arm. Tilting his head to the side he couldn’t help but rub a sore spot on his scalp a voice crying out for help inside.
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A Mix Mash of Stories
ActionWhat would become of the demon if it had been left alone. Or what would become of a story of a weird child