“Why do people always say ‘watch your back, I’ll be coming for you’? Don’t tell people you want to kill them, just drive a knife into their spine and be done with it. It’s so much easier.”

“It’s considered polite to let someone know you’re their enemy.”

“Polite – it’s murder.”

“You make it real damn hard to be your friend, you know that?” the hero sniffs, sits next to the vigilante “Why did you kill all those people?”

“They were bad people. They deserved it.” xe mutters defensively. Xe’s not looking at the hero “Why do you care anyway.”

“I’m supposed to save people. Hey,” says the hero, reaching out to touch the vigilante’s shoulder “That includes you, you know? Given how much killing people weighs on you.”

“You are a good partner,” smiles the villain, patting the vigilante gently on the cheek “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I… Are you sure? So many people are dead…” The vigilante turns to face the burning horizon “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“Don’t worry. They were all monsters. We are only burning the parts of the world that aren’t worth anything more than tinder.”



There’s very few ways to kill a demon, they say, and all of them are near impossible. You know better. You know better. You know better. There’s a heart of rotting meat in your chest and dying stars curdling in your belly, you are a monster of the worst caliber and you hate so fiercely. You are unholy, unclean, you are vile. And you hate. So you smile, approach the humans and say-

To kill a demon, this is what you must do. Not a boon, a blessing. but a curse upon your fellow blights carried out by human hands.

The moonlight filters through the trees, casting a ghostly
pale hue to everything around me. The silence and stillness is only broken by
the gentle spring rain. The forest feels a world apart, almost holy in its
isolation from this broken, ugly world. But even here, in the deepest heart of
the woods, nothing remains untouched for long.

A loud scream echoes as a young woman runs past. She is out
of breath, desperate. Her breath comes out in tearful gasps, her skirt is torn
and muddy. She has obviously reached the end of her strength, but continues to
push onwards.

A terror stalks her in the night.

A demon, once an angel too beautiful to behold, now a
creature broken and ugly, follows closely behind the woman. Its dark claws
scrabble for purchase on muddy ground, burnt and twisted wings flap uselessly
at its back. Yellow eyes stare balefully from its deformed skull, the
surrounding bone and sinew peeking through the rotting skin of its face.  It corners the woman, against a rock,
cackling to itself as it senses her terror.

Trailing behind are a small group of men, warriors from the
nearby village. They brandish spears and bows but fear rolls off of them in
waves. They surround the creature, a silent standoff forming in the once
peaceful forest clearing.

“Kill the demon!” One man cries, edging closer with his

“We can’t!” Another answered, throwing out an arm to hold
the first man back. “Only silver or blessed weapons can hurt a demon from

The woman is cowering, her arms over her head. The men are
confused, hesitating in their attack.

How utterly boring.

“Do you want to kill the demon?” I ask, walking forward.

They look up in shock. I know what their simple human eyes see,
although each person sees it differently. They see a picture of beauty, of
innocence or of wisdom. Some will see a smiling young woman, with long hair and
a flowing white gown. Some will see a young child, with rounded cheeks and
large eyes. Others still will see an elderly man, his back bowed with age. They
see what they want, I do not control it.

“Stay back, stranger! This is a demon from Hell, and there
are very few ways to kills such a beast!” The concern in the man’s voice annoys
me, but I continue to smile.

“Heaven has smiled upon you true warriors today, and has
sent me to grant you the power to destroy this creature.”

They are not convinced by my words, they look at eachother
in askance.

The demon has recognized me for what I am, and cowers against
the rock, unconsciously mimicking his intended prey. It calls to me in the
language of Hell.


Seeing the demon’s distress only bolsters the men’s
confidence in my offer. One, the youngest of the three, steps forward, his
voice filled with awe.

“Are you an angel?”

I incline my head, but do not speak. It is a small
deception, but the most I can risk, even this is only allowed by the fact that
I once held one of the highest positions in heaven.

“Will you accept my gift?”

They believe I am a messenger from Heaven. I see the
gratitude and wonder in their eyes. They each agree to accept my gift, the
power to defeat a demon.  I step forward,
touching each of them a single time on the forehead.

They scream in pain and fall to the earth.

Humans claims there a few ways to kill demons. How well I
know this to be false. They have it so wrong, though. It is not the power of
light needed to destroy them. Not something holy, or a
blessing. but a curse.

The men rise up once more,
no longer men but now something dark and deformed. Dark, scaly limbs, large
pointed teeth, all softness and weakness burnt from their flesh. They are the
blight, an echo of my own rotten heart.

“Feed, my children.” I
quietly instruct my new creations. They turn on the demon and tear it to

The woman still cowers
against the rock. I help her to stand, and she stares at me with a combination
of fear and reverence.

“Are you the devil?”

I smile at her sadly.

“Much, much worse I’m
afraid.” As if I could be compared to that teacher’s pet. The spoiled child who
always wanted more. He rebelled because he wanted to rule the heavens. His
arrogance led to his being cast down.

I didn’t want to rule the
heavens, I wanted to destroy them. I was everything that was dark and wicked
that they wanted to be gone. I was the beautiful light they craved that burned
their fingers when they touched. I was the voice in the back of their mind that
whispered words of madness and violence. I had no name. I had every name. I was
the corruption of all.

The woman stares at me and
my new children with sadness.

“Am I going to die?” She has
accepted her fate.

A pity. A demon might have
recruited her, a human pitied her, an angel would have forgiven her.

I tore her in half and fed
her to the blight.

Once the meal was done I looked
once more at the calm forest clearing, now red with the blood of both guilty
and innocent.

I liked it much better
this way.

Thanks to @corvidprompts for today’s prompt.