Demons Don't Dream

Part 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I have no idea where I'm going with this, and I make no promises about finishing it. I miss writing and this is just an attempt to cure my writer's block.

She still wasn't sure this was real. The weight of it in her hands, the ringing in her ears, tears rolling down her cheeks, and it still felt like a dream. She was finally alone, the echo of silence felt infinite in comparison to the deafening of voices she'd heard all night. Screams, cheers, the sound of the bell, the annoucer, the ref counting one, two as his hand hit the mat, Sasha's screeching insults in desperation mode. Then it was a sea of faces, hugs, congratulations, pictures, questions and more questions. Finally, though, there was silence. She'd found a dark corner and sank to the concrete, still clutching the newly won title, still covered in sweat, face still streaked with tears and ruined mascara, and tried to let it all soak in. She laid the title down before on the ground and traced the feel of the letters. Rough stones, smooth metal, supple leather. It was hers. She'd done it.

It could have been minutes or hours later when she felt someone hovering and she looked up. It was Finn. Or more precisely, it was the demon. The paint was patchy and streaked, but there was no doubt it was the darker incarnation who's eyes bore into hers. He didn't say anything, at first staring at her hard like he could see straight through her. He walked forward and she recognized the title he held in his own hand. He carefully laid it on the ground next to hers, and crouched before her, his movement fluid, predatory like a cat. She wasn't sure what to expect. Though she was sure it was only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity before he spoke,

"This is ours now."

She had no idea how to respond or what he expected from her, but it felt like his words carried the weight of the future, like this meant more. She'd just earned her title, but he'd been defending his. Why was he approaching her and not Sasha before her, and how could he be so sure that she would keep it? His hand reached out to cup her jaw. She could almost feel the claws that weren't actually there, scraping gently on her skin.

"Ours."

He continued to look her in the eyes, waiting for a reply. She still didn't know what to say, but she nodded, just barely, and it seemed to be enough to appease him. The hint of a grin graced his lips, looking eery with the painted fangs, then he brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb, once again she could feel the scrape of a non-existant claw, and he was gone, his title with him.