The Life of a Demon

Past Meets Future

In a past life, he was a simple human. Living his days as he was taught to live. It was calm, peaceful, pure. He didn't live the sinful life he does now. Such innocence he possessed that no one, not even he would suspect that he actually possessed evil.

As he walked down one wing of the palace he lived in, his soft fingertips were brushing against the walls as he passed. His boots echoed against the sturdy wood and stone structure which arched high above him into a dome-like shape made of thatch. It was all soothing to his ears.

One of the many windows that overlooked the gardens and lined the long corridor was open. His brows furrowed and he stopped walking, staring at the thick curtains slightly moving because of the incoming spring breeze. He had a bad feeling about this.

Even though he had such a sheltered life, he still had a sense of danger. The windows were never opened...

He stupidly walked closer, hands held close to his chest. He observed the glass pane, with its thin copper wire overlapping it; it didn't look like anything touched it.. no fingerprints or smudges, nothing.

He quietly closed the window and locked it, gaze slowly sliding from the metal lock to the glass once more. A scream was ripped out of his throat and he jumped back, closing his eyes as a consequence.

After a few minutes of calming down, he opened his eyes and turned his head to scan the hall and look back at the window. It was gone.. the figure with a pale face stained in a crimson substance was gone. The eyes.. he couldn't get that ocean colour of those deep orbs out of his head.

He turned on his heel and scurried away, his deep blue robe flowing behind him. He didn't know where he was going, but his feet did as they took him to the large library. He always loved this place, full of books and maps which were yet to be completed a hundred years later.

He immediately went to find the book that criticised pagan ways, a book that actually described them in such a way that made this young man very interested. He would skim through it but wouldn't find what he was looking for. He huffed and would turn to another book, skimming through it as well.

He groaned and would fall onto the sofa, an arm over his eyes and one leg bent up. He didn't care that his boot was on the lavish piece of furniture, it's not like he went out at all that day.

He turned his head to the left, away from the back of the sofa. Who was that person he saw..? Why did they look so human but not at the same time? How come it showed itself in such a way? So many questions, but no way to find the answer. Unless...

The young male shot up and almost instantly regretted it. He shook his head and would rush to the stables, taking a few minutes as the estate was huge. He saddled up his dark Hobby, and hopped up. He sighed in satisfaction once he was mounted before digging his heel into the horse's side, the animal shooting forward into the woods.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find this being that made its existence known to him somewhere in the woods he was prohibited to explore. His cloak flowed behind him just like the horse's long tail.

He suddenly pulled back on the reigns and the horse whinnied, rearing up on its hind legs before standing normally again. Why did he suddenly stop?

A hooded figure was standing there in the middle of the path. The figure wasn't too tall, possibly shorter than the crowned prince on the horse. Neither spoke until the young, human male on the horse decided to speak,

"Who are you?"

The figure didn't utter a word.

"I asked you a question," came the impatient reply to the silence.

More silence.

Before the male could speak, the figure finally would make a sound. "I am you. I've come to tell you that you will make a grave mistake in the future. It will lead to the decaying of your sanity."

"That's absurd. I wouldn't make any mistakes, my father has made sure I wouldn't."

"Not in this life, but the life that you will lead in my time. Hundreds of years in the future. The White Rabbit is watching you closely, Prince of Leinster. I advise you to be cautious when the time comes. Do not touch hands with him."

Yet again, before the young male could speak, the figure disappeared. Only a black feather was left behind. He scoffed and would leave it, riding back home.

However, that night, he would lay awake in bed with his eyes glued to the ceiling. The words of the figure was ringing in his head, almost blocking out any other sounds. He would eventually fall asleep that night and he would dream. His dream was confusing and cloudy, but one thing was for sure.

The White Rabbit was watching.