HellChild

Forgotten

     Against my better judgement, I followed the dark figure. Of course I knew it was a demon. We went down the streets. Nobody seemed to notice the demon. It was as if I was the only one who could see him. I followed him down a dark alleyway. There, he stopped.

     "Who are you?" I asked.

     "The more important question is, who are you?" His voice was cracked and creepy. It sent chills down my spine.

     "I think you know the answer to that question, don't you?"

     "I knew you were the right one to send. You are clever and strong. You are from Hell."

     "Did I do something wrong in my life?"

     "If you didn't, you wouldn't be from Hell, now would you?"

     "I guess not." I said with a smile. Maybe this guy isn't so bad after all. "So, are you going to tell me who I am?"

     "No. Unfortunately, demons do not remember their own names nor those of others. You're a nobody, just like the rest of us. Some demons pick other names. Oaf, Sojon, Tecko, and Nao are the ones I trust."

     "So the only thing we remember is that we're demons."

     "You amaze me again with your brilliance. Yes, that is correct. Unfortunately, we are cursed to relive our mistakes over and over again. That is the role of demons. We are what people can hate and blame."

     "So we're forgotten." He didn't respond. I didn't need a response. I already knew the answer. He still hasn't told me who the hell he is. "Again, who are you? And don't think you can answer with another question."

     He smiled. "I am Demora. I am the king of demons."

    I followed Demora out of the Dead Zone. He lead me to what seemed like a portal. It was.

     "This will take you to the land of the living. I only have enough power to send one demon every millennium. You, HellChild, are that demon." He told me.

      "So why are you sending me anyways? What am I supposed to do?"

     "You are supposed to kill the living. We were alive once, but we died. We could have gone to Heaven, but instead we are sent to Hell. Do you know why that is?"

     "Because we failed in life?"

     "No. It's because the living didn't care for us. It's because they didn't care where we went. So now, we will show them what it feels like to be forgotten."

     "So you want me to go and kill any living person I see." Demora nods. "I like that. I want to tatse their blood. I want to see their lifeless bodies fall to the ground."

     Dmeora smiles. He walks up to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. "I feel like you will succeed in your mission, HellChild. I want you to succeed. But you are not dressed for it."

     I look at my dress. He's right. I have no weapon and I am not wearing the right clothes.

     "Do not worry. I have just the right things for you."

     He raised his hands, and a black energy ball formed between them. A red and black dress and a sword with a blood red blade and a black handle and a black sheath with a belt formed in the ball. I put the dress on over my black one, taking that off underneath. I took hold of the sword and examined it. I feel the blade with my finger. It draws a bit of blood, and I wasn't even pressing that hard. I lick the blood off of my hand and smile. I put the sword in its sheath and wrap the belt around my waist. It feels natural to have a weapon.

     "How does it fit?" Demora aks.

     "Perfect."

     I step through the portal. I look back at Demora one more time, and continue on to the World of the Living. Some humans are about to die. A lot of them.