A Tale Of Murderers

Fyn.

The demon's forehead was adorned with a pair of jagged antlers that looked as thick as leather.

The demon's captivating figure had Fyn so entranced that he overlooked this. He came to the sudden realization that the creature before him was not human, but rather a demon. The power to choose any form was his to wield. He could look like a god, so why would he choose to look monstrous?

Fyn's eyes are drawn to the demon's chest, which he realizes is heaving heavily with each breath. Fyn squinted at the markings and symbols, trying to make sense of them. They were dark and smoking and emitted a faint, eerie glow.

The demon's menacing step forward caused Fyn to freeze in terror. In a split second, his heart was pounding and his arms were raised in defense, his body reacting before his mind caught up. Fyn's action caught the demon's attention, causing it to tilt its head in surprise, and Fyn could have sworn he saw a hint of curiosity in its expression.

Fyn could have easily mistaken the demon walking towards him for another man in the village if it weren't for its demonic body. Suddenly, Fyn's gaze was drawn to something in the corner of his eye. His eyes drifted to the demon's tail, which twisted and turned in a jagged pattern. Fyn was confused by what he was seeing, so he blinked a few times and narrowed his eyes at the strange tail. Watching it, he couldn't help but be reminded of a cat's movements.

The shadow had grown larger and larger until it finally swallowed Fyn whole. He tries to stifle a squeak but fails. His foot slips on a patch of wet leaves, causing him to fall back and land on his bottom with a painful jolt. The moment he touched the ground, he had a sudden realization.

At first, he had thought he had become blind. Or perhaps the demon had cast a spell in his direction, killing him instantly. It was neither of those things.

Tilting his head up, Fyn felt the warmth of the sun on his face. With a fraction of awe, his eyes widened.

With a loud whoosh, the demon unfurls its enormous wings, casting a shadow over everything around it. The creature stood tall, its ragged, black hooded pelt cascading down to the ground. The spiky bones and black feathers looked like they were glistening under the bright sun as they slowly stretched upwards, only to descend with a powerful gust.

Fyn closed his eyes, relishing the cool touch of the wind on his cheeks. The wind was so familiar that he felt almost cozy. His skin prickled, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. As he opened his eyes, the color drained from his face.

Closer and closer it came, its footsteps echoing ominously in the silence. Its unblinking stare bore into him, growing more and more menacing with each passing second. With its eyes fixed on him, the creature's vibrant red irises conveyed a sense of boredom mixed with mild intrigue. Backing away slowly, Fyn's hands scrabbled along the rough ground, desperate for any object that could be used as a weapon.

"Hm," Fyn froze as the demon spoke. "Pray tell, what is the purpose of your being here, mortal?"

Fyn attempted to speak, but his voice caught in his throat.

"Do you not possess a tongue?"

Fyn shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. His heart sank as he saw the demon's eyes narrow at him, and he realized he might have made a grave mistake. The demon lowered its head and kneeled before him, its nostrils flaring as it took in his scent. When it opened its mouth again, Fyn saw two sharp fangs. As soon as he saw it, a shudder ran down his spine. With one last lingering look, the demon stood up and sighed.

As he watched the action, Fyn's curiosity grew.

The sigh seemed so... human. Surely a demon wouldn't do that. Right?

"Leave," The demon hissed, and its sharp teeth gleamed in the light. "You reek of humanity."

Fyn gasped and felt a flush creep up his neck. A deep flush spread across his cheeks, and he let out an exasperated puff of air. With his arm raised, he sniffed near his armpit in a discrete attempt to assess his body odor. Surely not. Hopefully not. Despite his distance from the village, he made sure to stay clean and hygienic, always keeping himself feeling fresh and ready for whatever came his way. Nestled within the lush greenery, his humble abode stood near the gentle flow of the river's end. He could easily bathe in a clean stretch of water far from the bodies.

He continued to do it daily despite the cold weather.

Much more than how the villagers back at Gashea did, thank you very much!

Fyn bit his tongue to hold back the witty remark that was on the tip of it, knowing that it wouldn't be the best course of action. The demon had a whole tail and sharp fangs.

What prevented the demon from making Fyn's tongue disappear if he talked back?

What stopped the demon from using his sharp claws and ripping his tongue out?

What stopped the demon from murdering him on the spot if he so much as uttered a word of defiance?

A sly grin slowly spreads across his face as he silently strategizes. With bated breath, he anticipates the moment the demon will be caught off guard and vulnerable. Fyn sprang to his feet as the demon did and took off in the opposite direction like a lightning bolt. His heart was racing like a jackhammer, and beads of sweat were pouring down his face. Gasping for air, he tried to steady his nerves and figure out his next move.

"Crazy," He quietly grumbled to himself and glanced backward slightly. "This is insane-"

Before fully processing what had just happened, he collided with a solid and hard object.

A tree?

The impact was like a fireworks display in his mind, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He staggered backward, and before he knew it, darkness had claimed him. Even before he reached the ground.

As he looked on, he could only see a hazy picture of the approaching demon. Fyn was sure that he would meet his demise upon entering the forest. He just didn't think it was this early. And he didn't know it would be because of some tree. Indeed, fate does horrible things.

Fyn seems to have a streak of bad luck, doesn't he?

However, to Fyn's surprise, he returned to the physical world when he opened his eyes again, despite expecting to be in the afterlife.

At least, he thinks he's not.

The afterlife resembled the interior of an unusual cave. He heard stories about the afterlife, but they were nothing like what he was experiencing. As he reached up to rub his tired eyes and let out a deep yawn, a sense of grogginess weighed heavily upon him. Looking around, Fyn realized that he was likely in a cave within the mountains. The cave had a lot of moisture and few things around. It had a unique smell that was a mix of wetness and fresh droplets.

Roots, rubble, and cobwebs were present in every corner. Fyn feels the rough texture of the gray rocks and gravel beside him, the jagged edges digging into his skin. He saw rats drinking from murky puddles and felt physically ill. As he slowly opened his eyes, Fyn realized he was lying on the frozen ground. His body throbbed with pain as if he had just completed a strenuous round trip from his tent to the village center. The biting coldness of the air made it difficult for him to breathe, and the harshness of the ground was causing his muscles to ache even more.

Fyn wrinkled his nose and groaned as he used his elbow to raise himself up. He felt an ache that he couldn't pinpoint, causing him to wince. He raised his hand and gently rubbed his forehead. He winced in discomfort as he felt a tender swelling starting to develop.

He hissed, "Trust me to faint because of some tree-"

"You are awake."

Fyn suddenly sat upright, his mind completely blank. A gasp escaped Fyn's lips as his hand moved without conscious control.

Without hesitation, he picked up a nearby rock and hurled it in the direction from which the voice had come. He felt a surge of adrenaline and crawled towards the wall, pressing himself against it while maintaining direct eye contact with the demon. The rock sailed through the air steadily, almost as if time had slowed. It could have struck the demon's face if Fyn had been fortunate.

Fyn was taken aback as the demon's hand shot out so quickly that he initially thought it was just his imagination. With lightning speed, the demon snatched the hurtling rock in mid-air. Fyn watched nervously as the demon narrowed its eyes and crushed the stone in its hand. The rock crumbled quickly as if it were as fragile as an old leaf.

Almost instantly, the demon emitted a deep grumble from its throat, causing Fyn to swear that the entire cave shook from the sound. The demon quickly flicked the crumbs off its palm in one swift motion.

"I should have abandoned you to the wolves, unbearable mortal."

"I..." Fyn bit his lip and searched for a way to escape, his eyes darting around. He was in a cave - that he knew. Caves usually have both entrances and exits, right? The dimly lit cave provided minimal lighting, with only a few candles on the walls. Straining his eyes, he searched for any sign of a light source to guide him toward an exit, but the darkness seemed to engulf him. He gritted his teeth and pressed himself against the icy cave walls, puffing out his chest. He struggled to swallow the lump in his throat and glared at the demon, fueled by intense hatred. He hoped that the darkness wouldn't reveal his trembling body, as he could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the sweat dripping down his forehead. "I never wished to be saved."

Fyn was confused as the demon snorted and rolled its eyes while crossing its arms against its chest.

It behaved like a...regular human being.

He expected the demon to have fire coming out of its mouth, its tongue slithering like a snake, eight feet in height, and humongous eyes bulging out of its sockets. There was none of that. The demon he was looking at seemed to resemble more of a human rather than a monster.

A man with horns, wings, and a tail – but a man nevertheless.

"Mortals," The demon let out a menacing hiss, its voice dripping with malice and darkness. Fyn flinched at the sound without understanding why. "Killing has always been an instinct to you lot. Even to those who offered you kindness."

Fyn's heart raced as the demon's piercing gaze bore into his soul. Fyn momentarily felt guilty for trying to harm the demon as he saw the pure and intense rage in its eyes.

But why should he? It was a murderer, and the world would be better if it was gone. Fyn noticed another jagged rock, and, despite the demon's gaze, he fearlessly picked it up and tightly gripped it in his fist. He stood firmly, holding a jagged rock with both hands and aiming it directly at the demon before him.

"We'd be equals then." Fyn spat and raised the jagged rock before him, holding it like a knife. Although trembling, he acted courageous instead of ultimately succumbing to fear. "I could kill as much as you if I wanted to, you…you murderer!"

Fyn puffed his chest, noticing surprise flickering in the demon's eyes.

"What? You think you're the only thing capable of murder?" He scrunched up his forehead in a frown. He stood up slowly, his knees shaking, but he maintained eye contact without breaking it even once. "Even... Even though I'm human, I could ki... I could kill you!"

The demon displayed a grin and swayed its tail like that of a cat. It stared at Fyn without looking away, its gaze moving slowly from his face to his foot and back again. Fyn could feel warmth fill his belly as blood filled his face at the sight.

Fyn wondered if the demon was searching for his weaknesses. That was the only explanation for such intense examinations. The demon's beady eyes seemed to scan every inch of him, searching for a weakness to exploit. He could almost feel the weight of its stare, like a cold and clammy hand resting on his skin. It was a profoundly unsettling experience.

Fyn tightened his grip on the jagged rock as he heard a solid object hit the ground. He knew better than to break eye contact with the demon at that moment.

Who knew what the thing was capable of?

He didn't want to find out.

"Really?"

The creature purred, its fangs reflecting the light from the cave. Fyn felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched the demon lick its sharp teeth. The creature's hungry gaze made him press himself firmly against the freezing wall and grip the rough rock tightly.

Fyn's eyes suddenly widened.

Suddenly, Fyn felt a rush of wind and nothing else. Suddenly, the demon teleported in front of him, leaving a trail of black smoke where he had previously stood just a few feet away.

Fyn's mouth opened wide in a silent scream of terror, their eyes bulging with fear. His own heartbeat was the only thing they could hear, drowning out any other noises around them.

The demon appeared to enjoy the situation as his tail wagged excessively.

"And here I thought a mortal like you was incapable of speech."

The demon had surrounded Fyn's hand, which was holding the rock. Sharp black nails dragged across Fyn's skin, leaving red trail marks.

Fyn had anticipated the demon would have a cool touch. But this was different. The warmth of the demon was akin to indulging in hot soup on a chilly day.

Odd.

Fyn blinked and looked at the hand before raising his eyes to meet its gaze.

"Well?"

The demon hissed once more, grabbing Fyn's hands with the jagged rock and pressing it just above his jugular. Fyn's lips trembled as he gazed into the demon's eyes and caught a glimpse of his own reflection.

The demon had a mischievous look in its eyes, and Fyn couldn't help but feel a little flutter in his stomach.

"Kill me."