Chapter 5

Yuri.

 I sat on the bench under the oak tree, perplexed at the situation. Even though I could read her thoughts, I failed to compel her. How can that even be possible? Small red birds fluttered around when one perched itself upon my shoulder.

“Brave little thing.” I smiled, holding him in my hand and prying the note out of his claws. “My brother sends a message I see.” The little creature flew off rapidly as I let it go and opened the note.

‘Consider the girl as my apology.’

I turned towards the house where she sat on the porch with Tomai and was attempting helplessly to fit into a shoe. The shoe flipped back and hit him in the face when she panicked and cradled him in her arms.

I arched an eyebrow. That was my apology? My teeth edged. This was an absolute insult. And yet, I sit here unable to comprehend such a human with the ability to defy me. Had I lost my magic? No. I still feel it flowing through my blood. Well, what was left of it anyway. Then why was she different? Why is Mathias holding her in such high regard?

 Byron stood behind me. I could sense his presence. “My Lord.” He called. “It is time.”

“Ah yes. Delightful.” I smiled and stood. “Guard the house until I am back.” I paused and added, “And the girl. I will not be long.”

  He nodded as I walked towards the back of the manor. I could feel the air tremble before me as I neared the well. Two hundred years ago I used my magic to turn it into a portal to the Otherworld. It may not have been the Highland amongst the Gods, but it was certainly something far more interesting. The Otherworld was a bridge between the Highland and lowlands or heaven and hells respectively. It was a place where the fallen, exiled, and those rebellions against the Gods and Demons resided, a place where the lost souls roamed. It was the gateway to the darkest hell and a battlefield I enjoyed being amongst. Quite honestly it was the only thing that helped me sustain my mentality. I despised living amongst humans. It was humiliating to live amongst these weak creatures.

I stood at the edge of the well. The feel of the scythe in my hand was exhilarating. My blood burned within my flesh. I jumped in. I steadied my balance as always. A thrill shot through my body as the air thinned and thickened. I always found myself smiling at this part. The harsh wind of the fall sliced through my hair as I fell.

My boots impacted the muddy shore of the Dead Lake. A cold sweat ran down my forehead as I chuckled. The sky was a charcoal grey with perched pregnant clouds ready to give birth to a deadly storm.

“Well well well,” a voice chuckled from behind, “Seems like you can never get enough of this place.”

The syren swam seductively with a wicked smirk behind. “Is it true? Do you like the taste of a woman’s heart?”

“Oh yes,” I smiled innocently and turned to face her. Her face was as fair as smooth porcelain and her eyes as deep as emerald. An illusion of what her kind truly was. “The beautiful ones are the most delicious.” I licked my lips with a smirk.

“I don’t mind, you know,” She smiled and made her tail do a little splash behind, “If you take a little taste of mine. Just come a little closer to me.” There it was. The lure. Then, the kill.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “I only eat the hearts of beautiful women.”

She was about to screech for her sisters when I chuckled, “Save it, I already have a headache.” My right hand burned, itching to throw a flame at her, and my left was ready to slice her into thin pieces, “Now tell me, would you rather be fried or sashimied?”

In a glimpse of a second, I saw her poisoned figure. A thick scaley face with a snake’s tongue and bloodshot bloody eyes. My blood crawled but I knew I’d seen worse in my lifetime. I almost, however, felt sorry for the creature. The flame from my hand shot like an arrow through her before she could shriek. That was a mercy kill. I never wanted to extinct their kind. Besides, it’s not their fault they were hungry.

I walked away in wonder at the rumors that were swarming around about me. Eat the hearts of women? That’s quite repulsive. It’s been so long since I’ve had a proper ‘Godly’ meal. Human foods were so bland and disappointing. I craved snakeapples and blossomberries sometimes. These were the thoughts I keep to myself. Not that I had anyone to share my thoughts with anyway.

Had I done the right thing by leaving Bryon in the protection of the house? There was a strange unsettling feeling within the pits of my stomach. I trusted him so that wasn’t the issue. Seventy-five years ago, I saved him from a seven-legged pry demon in the Otherworld, ever since then he felt in debt to me and stayed by my side under the disguise of a butler. A terrible cook he was but an excellent swordsman. And yet, where was this uneasy feeling coming from? Should I go back?

No. I tried to push the thought away. The Otherworld was toying with me. I frowned, heading forward. The path of mud dried as I walked further through the forest and onto the gloomy road. The eyes of the dead watched me as I walked past them. The fog was eerie and thick, and the hums of lost souls tugged through the lonely air. I was never fazed by such sounds. Never as a demon, nor as a God.

“A God walks along the middleland?” someone hissed upon a tree.

I ignored it. As I walked, the voice grew stronger at my side. From the corner of my eyes, a snake slithered from tree to tree. I stopped and tilted my head to the creature. “Pitiful thing.”

“My.” It turned itself into a young boy who hung upside down from the branch of the tree. “I am so blessed. Him, and now you.”

“Him?” I scowled.

“Yessss.” He snickered with a hiss, “The man with the red streak.”

My body prickled. “Claude.” I gritted. I hadn’t heard of him or from him in the last 125 years. Claude, Roseil, and I were inseparable back when I was just turned into the monster the Gods made me be. Claude was akin to a brother. We had terrible and amusingly reckless days, destroying anything in our path. Making whatever and whomever we wanted ours. And then, then, I abandoned them both.

“Ohh, deep in thought I see.” The snake was now at my feet, “I wonder.”

With a shallow breath, I kicked it away. “I hate snakes.”

My heartbeat dropped in slow beats as I entered the cemetery of Carcas. Maggot demons dug and crawled the place, with their pus-infected head and wound-inflected body which oozed mucus. Their stench was terrible. There were around twenty. Nine stood guard and the others dug through the grave and licked the decayed flesh of all that was buried beneath.

I walked before them with a grin. “Tell me, creatures, what is tastier than the dead?”

They snarled before me. Their eyes widened, ready to attack. I plunged myself at them, the scythe swinging firmly in my grasp. “Death,” I answered.

 Three heads fell to the ground. The bodies slumped down. The fire scorched from my hand aching to do its work. I flipped and crushed one of the demon’s heads beneath my foot. It shrieked. It was a terrible sound. The sound of its last breath. Fire blazed from my hands and hit its target. Seven. Eight. They all came tumbling down before me. I pulled the scythe and forced it through and straight down the center of two others. Twelve were down. Two charged toward me in full force. I chuckled. In a split second, they were nothing but pieces of flesh and blood on the ground. I scorched three alive and looked as they screamed and fell to the floor. Their skin paled and fell off like the flesh they so love to feed on. Three remained. They circled me. Their breaths were foul as they hissed and spat at me. Their sharp teeth all decayed.  

“I wonder.” I pondered and closed my eyes, “How shall I kill you three?”

I reopened my eyes in complete darkness, feeling my magic swirl through me. We were in the shadow realm within my mind. The three stood before me confined in the prison of my mind. They struggled to break free of something they did not understand. I walked towards the two struggling the most and used my thoughts to control them, creating for them a reality, an illusion that made them believe they were each other’s enemies. I watched as they ripped each other apart, limb by limb. A brutal sight to kill that of your same breed, a taboo, even for the demons.

The third, I noticed, stopped struggling and sat blankly on the floor. His eyes locked onto mine. “Demon God.” He spat, “Your blood is tainted. You belong nowhere. The Gods do not want you. The demons find you repulsive.” He laughed, saliva leaking from his mouth. “You think me low but you are the one beneath me. So kill me. End my life but it will never end your suffering.”

“A maggot demon who can speak.” I amused myself, “I thought all your kind did was make fools of yourself. And yet, here you are still doing exactly that. You entertain me however hence I shall spare your life.”

“Kill me!” it demanded.

“No.” I smiled.

It shrieked loudly. A high and ghastly sound.

“I’ve heard you Maggots cannot survive without your clan so I shall test that theory. Simple curiosity.”

It growled, “Tainted Blood!” 

“Filthy insect.”

I removed myself from the shadows and breathed myself back to the cemetery with the rows of dead demons squirming dead on the floor. It seemed to be true that these things take hours to finally die. A sudden feeling of unease rose within me again. This was enough for today. Perhaps, it was time to go back to the manor. My body numbed at how strongly I wished to return. It was an odd sensation.  

---

SAVE THIS PIN