𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗦𝗧. kimetsu no yaiba.

𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢 ; part i. duty.

WARNINGS  ;  mild descriptions of gore.

Late evening hues paint a massacre of firstborn stars onto the darkening sky ; abyss of trees drowning the colors of the earth. But even the mindless nights aren't as tranquil as they're supposed to be, not in this red-lily scented world. Air bears an odor ; putrid, stomach twisting, enough to rise bile out of throats. But no –it isn't enough. It's never enough.

Unholy, inhumane screeches ripple like waves.

Creatures which satisfy their heinous hunger with human flesh and blood are known as demons. Disgusting beings, truly; with nothing but stained fangs and the instinct to devour. All that is left of fragile humanity in their hollow bodies, eventually dies.

They remain as monsters. Threats to the human race.

However, they aren't invincible.

The hunter is a flurry of strikes. An unyielding force ; every and each attack precisely directed to the prey's weakest points. The weapon leaves nothing behind, powered by the unsheathed fury and stone-cold ruthlessness.

The opponent has no time to retreat. Light-bleeding blade slashes against a limb –it detaches, followed by a harsh sprout of dark-red liquid. The dirt underneath soaks it up effortlessly. After -what's left of humanoid insides is exposed for the world to see. It's an ugly, brownish hue. Squirming, like worms, begging to be crushed.

The attacker's eyebrows twitch briefly. Ew.

The movements are faster. More forceful. Limb by limb, the thing is torn apart. Nothing but a tattered, massacred mess. Regeneration means nothing but a pitiful attempt to save itself. With each attempt, comes forward another slice of the katana.

All that is left of the demon is its torso. Head, surprisingly, is present atop of its shoulders. For now.

It thrashes like some desperate, wounded animal. In its final moments, it tries to live ( but oh, its fate has already been sealed ). 'Y-you-' There is nothing else to say. There is nowhere to escape.

The black-clad person stares with unflinching gaze. Nothing but apathetic. No pity, no consideration. Only waiting to deliver the death penalty, bestowed upon this abomination.

'Why aren't you healing? Did you run out of energy?' They speak with bare disinterest. No intrigue –the answer already lies by their feet. Mangled, bloody.

Anger fires within the decaying form. 'D-damn you -'

Silver-toned blade tears into the demon's open mouth. Orbs flare up with newfound panic. And yet, shadows fall onto the human's face. Terrifying.