Demons

Prologue

It was a warm, cloudy night that left the world in utter darkness. One young man sat at a desk, scratching away at a piece of paper under the lamp light. He dipped his pen in the stout ink bottle above his paper again, blotting it on a stray scrap before returning to his drawing. He was completely focused- unaware of anything else around him. This focus that he had achieved after so many years ended up being his bane.

                It was what allowed another dark figure to enter the room unnoticed and make its way up behind the man at his desk. With a subtle twitch, a sharp blade slid under the man’s chin and pressed against his throat. He inhaled sharply, freezing up instantly and hyperaware of the razor-sharp point and the strong limb that held it.

                “Mischief maker.” His assailant rumbled. The sound gurgled from deep inside him. “Did you think you could hide from us?” Its voice was slow and steady in its position of power. “Now that I’ve found you, you will give us what we have been searching for.”

                Carefully, the man set his pen down. Holding it would do no good. “You’re wasting your time.” He measured his voice, helping him seem calm despite his panicking heart. “You won’t find it here.”

                A boiling hiss escaped the hulking monster, and the blade darted away just in time as a clawed hand wrapped around his throat, the sides of the digits digging into the back of his neck like knives. The artist grabbed at its arm as he gagged, but his grip slipped harmlessly off its thick plates to no avail. Within a moment it lifted him up out of his chair, knocking it over and slamming him up against a wall with the arc of its hand biting into his throat a little more. “What? Do you mean to deceive me, human? I am not so easily played with!”

“Why would I lie when the truth is so much worse?” The man told it through gritted teeth, biting back the pain. “It’s already moved out of my hands, and now you won’t find it again.”

                The creature’s grip tightened ever so slightly as its rage began to build. “You have hidden it! Fool! Tell me where the book is, and I may let you live.”

                His trembling hand gently stroked a shiny silver chain around his neck – the only thing he had left. “No. If I intended to do that, what would be the point in sending it away in the first place?”

                The beast’s eyes narrowed. “Do you even know what you are facing?”

                “Sirusae.” He choked out. “Probably four to six centuries old… Killer of many. Big on torture.”

                It smirked, a few wicked teeth poking from under its dark muzzle. “So, your command of the knowledge is as fine as they say. I suppose I will have to change your mind, then.” A tail snaked around, glistening at the tip. It lashed out, slicing open the upper part of his leg. He bit back a strained yelp, using all his control not to break down.

                “I won’t… Tell you… It’s just… Gone…”

                “I see.” It rumbled again. “Then I suppose I have no use for you, and you are too much of a liability to leave alive.”

                It surged forward, reddened blades extending from its chest and whipping around from its tail, all digging into his chest but carefully missing his heart. It wanted him to die slowly, painfully, a little bit at a time. He gasped again, trying to inhale around the set of dagger-like razors in his lungs, guts and liver. The monster watched his eyes widen and pulled him off the wall, dumping him unceremoniously on the floor with a heavy thud.

                “I hope you don’t think I believe your miserable story. You could have made it all up easily- especially as you didn’t even tell me anything. So, I think I will raid your rooms anyways.” It moved away from the man, first to a bookshelf. With a single swipe it tore it apart, sending paper everywhere and books falling to the floor like raindrops. The monster moves on the boxes and cupboards, breaking them and flinging them away, busting them on walls and creating cracks in the floor.

                As the destruction grew, the young man’s vision blurred and his clothes became sticky and wet. Soon the pain forced him into blackness, and even the rupturing noises faded to nothing – only unending silence.

 ~~~

                The door quietly opened. The scene had been quiet for scarcely a minute, and it was impossible to distinguish anything. Masses of splintered wood and warped metal littered the floor from wall to wall, leaving almost no room to step. The newcomer shoved some of the debris aside with her foot, glancing around in the darkness. Pieces of a shattered lamp were mixed with the debris, so she pulled a candle from her pocket and lit it instead.

                In the new, warm glow she glimpsed swirls of color on the floor accompanied by streaks and smudges here and there; red. Red almost everywhere, glistening on sharp corners and spots on the wall, all radiating from one spot.

                “This is certainly the work of a demon…” She whispered as she stepped to the spot. With inhuman strength the woman hoisted a pile off the ground and threw it aside, revealing the crushed, bloody body understand.

                “Oh, Brendon….” She knelt down, wiping the crusted blood from his face. Held around his neck, a large circular pendant rested on the floor- her pendant. She carefully examined it, wiping the blood off on her tunic. It glimmered silver and gold in the dim candle light, the jewel in the middle fogged and dull.

                She carefully placed it on top of her young friend and slid her arms under him, picking his limp form up off the stained floor. With a quick check she saw the window had already been destroyed, and stepped over to the hole. A breeze kicked up as she extended her wings with a flourish, made of veins of light surrounded by gossamer webbing. She lifted off the ground, thrusting out of the hole and into the night sky. Tendrils of light wrapped around her friend, holding him carefully to her as she flew.

                “I hope you’re right, Brendon,” she whispered to herself, “about where you sent that book. We need more allies, but if they track down that book, everything we’ve worked for is lost…”