Demons Don't Feel Love

Chapter six: Post Traumatic

Annabelle's POV

Daren slipped into the room, silent and careful, avoiding drawing unnecessary attention in our direction. Much like a soldier weary from battle, his eyes tainted with images that he could never un-see. I wondered exactly what he saw, or how he felt watching people die at his mercy. Part of me thought that since he was a demon who had done these things countless times before, death would be nothing but a casual result of his presence alone. He should be desensitized. Later on, however, he described what was eating at him,  The images he couldn't erase.

"The newborns. All those tiny finger and toes, little hearts that we're still fighting for life. I fucking took that without so much as looking back after I walked away. It saddened me, but I knew it was a necessary evil. Looking back, though, I just can't get it out of my mind. They were screaming, crying out for mother's that couldn't save them." He paused.

"Anna why are you looking at me like that? Cause I'm demon I can't show feelings? I'm not heartless. Maybe I used to be, but growing up really changed me. I wasn't built to be like other demons, and I still don't know why; sometimes I think I have a purpose. Maybe I'm just a mistake... But, I digress."

He continued to discribe the details of the murders, even the homeless man he used to stage a suicide.

"I think that maybe, I should've just killed myself." He said. This was the first time he had expressed any sort of will to hurt himself; the first time I realized he was even capable of having those feelings. He seemed so confident and strong, I would've never guessed he could feel guilt like that. I was sure to watch him closely, lest he try to do what I did.

The world wasn't as welcoming as I had hoped the day I left the hospital. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, twisting and turning as if preparing for a storm.

"Daren?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"What about my parents?" I asked, nervous about my absence and what he may have told them during it.

"don't worry, love. A slight altering of their memory worked like a charm."

"Are you for real? Like you can actually do that?" I asked.

"Remember what I told you; I'm a demon, I can do anything." He said, somewhat egotistically. My mind began to wander, and I was experiencing fear beyond anything I had ever felt before.

He doesn't seem to feel anything at all. How could someone so seemingly human possibly be so cold?

"Anna I know you're scared. Maybe you're even feeling trapped, suffering the trauma I've caused you. Baby it doesn't have to feel like that. I'll show you how much I care for you, and want nothing but for you to get well. Even if you never trust me again, or if you can't look at me the same...I'm alright with that. What I don't want is for you to feel repressed by what you've been through. I want you to grow stronger, and be more than just a damaged victim. You're so much more than that." He said, sympathetically.

"Don't worry about me, Daren. I love you." I said in return.

"Anna, have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome?" He asked me, I could see traces of fear in his eyes. I shrugged my shoulders slightly.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"It's where a victim becomes... sympathetic with their aggressor, justifying their actions and forming a bond with them. Sometimes... becoming dependant, both emotionally... and psychologically." He said, his voice trailing off into a whisper. The way he spoke sounded agonized, as if he were finding ways to hurt himself with merely words and suggestion.