1 Chapter 1 - Acceptance

Daemon Soar plagues me. He infects my thoughts and manifests in my nightmares. His death displayed in a variety of horrific ways, blood pooling around his lifeless form after hours of screaming my name. Knowing I can do nothing but watch, trapped in a cage, incapable of looking away. Or he simply becomes the nightmare. Relishing in my never-ending torment I'm forced to endure on that cold marble altar. The blades tearing my flesh apart piece by piece, without the sweet release of death. Vision blurred, heart racing, all I see is his sadistic grin. His domineering figure delighting in my agony. The man I sold my soul to. The man who saved me from this hell I once knew to be reality.

I awaken to the smiling face of the man who forces me to suffer nightly, and I can never truly be angry at him for it. His soothing voice calms my screaming panic. His gentle hands stroke my hair, soothing my every anxiety. His welcoming arms wrap around my small frame, easing the pain of my loss. The loss I feel every time I open my eyes. And the loss that only he can truly understand.

"Daemon, who was on the phone?" I ask with slight intrigue as I slowly slide my pile of disinteresting paperwork as far away from me as possible. Grasping every excuse to get it out my sight.

"That was your physician, my Lord. Your prescription pills are ready to pick up." A frown forms on the man's face as I roll my eyes. I hate taking medication, it's an insult and he knows it. Yet he always excuses it by telling me that as his Contractor and his Master, it is his duty to keep me mentally and physically healthy. Although he never enforced this rule when I was younger. When the trauma truly set in. "You know you must take them. What kind of butler would I be if I let my Master continue to be haunted by a past he can't control?"

"One who understands that I am capable of handling it. That I don't require some little pill to take away my pain. I have it under control, Daemon."

"Is that why you wake up screaming?" The harsh bite of his words wounds my pride more than I care to tell.

"Would you rather me wake up a sobbing mess?"

"I'd rather you sleep through the night without interruption!"

"And become groggy with a head of cotton wool all day?"

"If that's what it takes to stop you sleeping throughout the day to make up for sleepless nights then I'd gladly shove that little white pill down your throat one way or another!"

"I'd spit that right in your insolent face." He rests a hand on his forehead as he sighs, defeated. "I understand that you can handle this but the truth is that you don't have to. You act ashamed but never explain the reason why. I'm at my wits end trying to grasp your attention, my Lord. Please, tell me what you see when you close your eyes at night."

"If I promise to tell you, will you leave me be?" He takes pause for a moment, my offer swirling in his mind.

"Perhaps."

"Fine, Daemon, take a seat. I'll tell you everything you desire to know." This should keep me away from my paperwork long enough to start caring about it again.

Without a second thought, he sits down at the chess table, where I usually speak to business partners. It tricks them into thinking that we're equal due to sitting on the same height of chair. Truth be told, in this case especially, the people that sit at this table are far from being perfectly matched.

He sits unnaturally straight in that chair, it would be unnerving if I hadn't seen this before. Stiff as a board when he relaxes. No longer having to pretend to be human.

"You may ask questions." I state professionally, understanding the nature of the demon in front of me all too well.

"Your nightmares have worsened. How have they changed?"

"I am still in that cage or on that altar. Only, the torture never ends, leading to my painful demise. You have also manifested in these dreams, either as a sadistic observer of my torture or as someone who is murdered by the cultists before you can save me. Either way I die. They could also consist of watching my parents' bodies burn in the flames engulfing the manor. However that nightmare is far less common."

"What do you dream about when you nap during the day?"

"Memories of my parents, the child I used to be, the person that I have become."

"Are you proud of the person you have become?"

I squirm in my chair rather uncomfortably, wishing to be elsewhere. "I would rather not say."

"I understand, my Lord. Do you ever see the children you burned in that room?"

"No. I will never regret the decisions I have made. There's no point in doing so, the deed is done and nothing good can come from dwelling on it. I may have been the sole survivor but-" I sigh heavily, images of my companions in the cage. The life drained from their eyes. Husks of who they used to be. There was no saving them. No medication could mend their shattered souls.

"I see. You don't have regrets. Not even over your body count?"

The people I have killed have either been mercy or deserved by the actions of the 'victim.' I never kill without reason. Those children wouldn't be able to survive much longer. They could barely eat the scraps they gave us. They no longer had the will to live." I break eye contact for a moment, requiring the comfort that dissociation provides me. "They were going to die on the altar if I didn't do something. Our days on this Earth were numbered. So I gave them revenge and relief from their agony. It was mercy."

"You truly believe that?"

"What an interesting person you are, my Lord."

"What an infuriating demon you are, Soar."