I moved forward, my boots sinking in the wet, spongy ground, trying not to make a sound. The demon crouched over its victim, ripping into it with slow, brutal savagery. When I moved closer, something strange dawned on me—this demon was identical to the one I'd seen earlier. but something was off.
The air around it was denser. Nastier. Electric.
No honor in my blood, not the kind you hear about in fairy tales. I wasn't here to prove anything. I'd lie, cheat, stab it in the back if I had to. Survival didn't care about honor.
They'd tell us tales behind Graft's tall walls—of dark creatures that hunted the darkness, hiding beyond the trees. "Demons of hell's pit," they called them. Kids that we were, we believed it all, holding our blankets tight, shivering with terror of what waited just out of reach of the firelight.
But then years went by. Seasons came and went. Nobody ever laid eyes on one. The tales were reduced to jokes. We grew taller, braver, and made ourselves believe the world outside the walls was barren.
We were mistaken.
Graft testified to that. Its silence today bellows out the facts.
And I was here, standing a mere few feet away from that reality, observing it feed.
Its claws were dripping with what had once been a man. The bones snapped under its fingers like dry reeds. It didn't merely kill—no, this creature relished it.
I swallowed hard.
The legends weren't myths. They were warnings.
Warnings we decided to forget.
And as I cowered in the tall grass, seeing the beast lift its head with blood dripping down its jaw, I realized something too late:
These monsters don't take lives.
They delete them.
The first blow wasn't mine.
It never was intended to be.
It charged with terrifying velocity, claws whizzing by my head. I ducked — just in time. My cloak wasn't as fortunate; the tattered edges of cloth fluttered past my shoulder like a wounded sparrow. My heart pounded so hard it was like it was going to burst out of my chest. That thing moved like lightning—way too fast for a clumsy oaf like me. I hadn't even set foot into this world yet, and already I was being put to the test against monstrosities.
I rolled, desperate to regain my balance, and swung the sword wildly. Anything to get a reaction.
And I received it.
The demon screamed — a wretched, keening sound that rasped down my vertebrae. My blade had struck its shoulder. Not deep, not clean, but enough to let forth black, boiling blood that hissed as it hit the earth.
It didn't scream in agony.
It growled like I'd insulted it.
Then it hit me in the face — hard enough to throw me into the air. I slammed into a tree trunk that splintered under the impact and leaned precariously.
"Well.... That's reassuring," I said through bloody lips, fighting to catch my breath.
Then it bellowed — and this time, it was about me.
The world was spinning in a blur of earth, blood, and pain. My left arm was numb, legs weakening with each spasm. I used my sword hilt as a crutch to push myself up, but I knew I was losing it. Quickly.
I regained my balance, taking in the forest.
Vanished. The demon had disappeared once more.
My breathing was suspended.
Where—?
A bad breath brushed the back of my neck. Instinct asserted itself. I turned and lifted my sword.
CLANG.
Our swords — no, its claws — met mine. The force shook my knees, my arms cry out in protest.
"You'll have to do better than that," I hissed, pushing it back with all I had left. "I didn't drag myself out of Kael's training pit to die on this street."
Breathe. Concentrate. Calm.
Then — it attacked again. Slower. Precedented. I couldn't account for it, but I sensed its beat now. As if fear had shattered, and instinct started speaking where it had been. Perhaps Kael's sadistic training had taken hold. Perhaps I'd numbed myself to death.
We exchanged blows. It received more hits than I could handle. My ribs hurt, my jaw was sore, and something deep within my knee wasn't right—like bone on bone. My body was destroyed. My sword, originally bound in fresh white cloth, now dripped red. Blood. My blood. Perhaps its, too. I couldn't be sure anymore.
But I remained standing.
And it hobbled.
That gave me an advantage.
I clenched my teeth, ready to pounce—when something ripped the air.
"Mom! Dad!"
My heart froze.
That voice.
The demon had spoken. In the human tongue
I stood stock-still. My hold relaxed. My thoughts went blank.
What… what was that?
It sounded like a boy. Like a kid. It rang out with such naked fear that for an instant, I saw myself.
Was it human before or..... was it trying to pretend?
And in the instant of uncertainty, the creature shifted.
It struck, right at my blind spot—attempting to kill me now that it had me off guard.
But something else took over. Not logic. Not instinct.
Rage.
A white-hot wave of fury coursed through my blood. Perhaps it was the hurt. Perhaps it was the vile humor of a demon screaming out for Mommy and Daddy. But I was not going to die here. Not like this.
I whirled, quicker than I'd thought I could, and raised my sword in time. The blade struck its claws, not cleanly, but sufficiently to keep it from advancing.
The impact sent me onto one knee. I shook, I bled, I was disintegrating.
But I didn't fall.
Not yet.
I slowly got back up and I had made one thought which I was planning to stick to.
"With one last strike you are going down." I said with the last of my strength, it seemed to me that the demon had thought of the same thought as mine, because it didn't look like it could take much more.
And so it and I stood in silence, neither of us moving a muscle, waiting for a cue to strike our final attempt, as we stood I began to count backwards .
"3....2.....1.... NOW!!" I screamed on the top of my lungs, and in just a blink of an eye we where both gone from where we stood now we faced our backs to each other .
The last attack was enough to knock me down to the ground, if we looked closer we can see the large scar on the middle of my chest, if you can imagine it does sound like it hurts, because it does hurt like hell.
But I wasn't going down easy just before I was knocked out I sliced the demons head clean off with one swift movement.
I was able to kill that ONE demon but the luck of the world had different plans for me, I looked around myself, my scream had brought about a few dozen of demons ready for the kill.
But for now what I felt was joy, joy for killing my first ever demon.
"That's what you get bitch for trying to kill me." as I began to fall to the ground I felt a warm presence near me which held me in their arms.
"You did well Aurie," it was a familiar soft voice, I wasn't able to open one of my eyes but I was able to open one to see who it was.
"Crim?!" I tried to speak while I coughed up blood "What are you doing here?!"
Crim simply pressed her fingers to my lips and spoke me in a calm and sweet tone. "Aurie sleep for now, we can handle things from here."