A Cursed Encounter

Just by glancing at the figure's unnatural pale skin complexion, it was already known who he was. Muzan Kibutsuji, a Demon, and the first of his kind. His curly jet black hair was half-covered by the white fedora he wore, sharp almond-shaped eyes scanned the area with a nonchalant aura. Nevertheless, his pupils were vertical, like cat eyes, and coloured plum red. It was as if he was bored, but the grin on his face still wouldn't falter. Hands were stuffed in the pockets of his white dress pants, his formal outfit was the same when Tanjiro first met him at Asakusa, Tokyo. It consisted of an embroidered dark tuxedo and a colourless tie over a black dress shirt, his inky loafers clicked against the ground in an enticing rhythm.

The Demons had their heads hung low, awaiting a response from their King. This King wasn't like any other, blood lust fueled in his glowing scarlet irises. Narrowing his eyes, he took a good look at all three of the Demon Slayers, pinned down to the flooring of the once-beautiful courtyard. So much potential, only to go to waste because of the Corps. Faces fully compiled of fury, Inosuke couldn't handle his building-up temper which was gradually getting more, explosive by the second of that man standing in front of them in pure silence. His teeth grinded in his mouth, his chin forced to raise as he barked in his usual fiery tone, exasperated over the situation.

"You bastard! Why are you being so damn quiet!"

Original Upper Moon number three, also known as Akaza, slammed Inosuke's forehead back into the gravel, staring down at him; he deemed that he was some feeble weakling. Obnoxious sounds escaped the riled boys lips, furious of how a demon interfered with his confrontation.

Tanjiro and Zenitsu stared, wanting to question if he was alright but the words couldn't escape their lips, the scent and sound of anguish filling them with sorrow. They couldn't do anything in this situation, remaining silent as they turned their attention towards Muzan.

Tanjiro had a cold, angered look in his eyes, full of rage from what this man had done to Nezuko, his little sister. The boy himself couldn't contain his emotions, wanting to scream out and defeat him right here, right now but it was no good.

Being held down, he couldn't move a muscle, previous burn scars from the explosion that happened beforehand scattering his fair body.

He wasn't amused, Muzan. Unfazed by his attempt to get under his skin, he snapped his fingers on his right hand, a clicking sound ringing in the human's ears. The Demons rose to his command, making sure that the slayers would stay in their rightful place, on the ground.

Snap.

Eyes lowered their gaze, lost.

"I don't get why you need these humans, can't we just eat them already?"

Half of Upper Moon 6, Gyutaro Shabana, he was being his arrogant self, irritated. His eyes lerked ignorance and annoyance, not wanting to deal with things so petty that they lost without giving a true challenge.

Gyutaro was a tall man with a black-dotted pale greyish complexion who's anatomy was somewhat weird in that is his upper torso, arms and legs, they were all extremely muscular while his waist was quite skinny, his pelvis jutting out at an unnatural angle. He possessed thin, green, and red eyes, their sclera bright orange, that were slanted drastically downwards at the sides, the kanji for 'Upper' and ''Six' carved across them. He had unruly that cut sharply off to a brighter lime around the crown of his head, worn messily styled with uneven bangs.

Gyutaro wore no shirt, only spotting a pair of baggy blue jeans and seven pieces of pattern red cloth to decorate his body, one large one around his neck and three smaller ones around each arm. Even if others called him ugly, he was pleased with how he looked.

His expression was always one of arrogance. Even in various situations, the cocky smirk he wore would never leave his face.

Revolted, another demon crossed their arms at the idiotic statement, complaining at the impatient of their fellow member of the twelve Kizuki. A fake smile was planted on their face, applauding them at a mediocre level.

"Hah! Now now, we don't want to anger the master now do we?"

This one was sarcastic, every last word that left his mouth was merely a lie. True, this one could be energetic and playful but one misstep- The person opposing him wouldn't be able to live the next day. A demon with a two-sided personality, Upper moon Two, Douma.

Douma takes the form of a young man with a moderately toned and muscular body, who is of a notably pale complexion and possessed unusually long, pointed nails that appeared to be stained a pale blue. His hair could appear silver or a toned-down golden blond, and he wore it parted to his left; the shorter parts around his face seeming to flare out to either side around his head, curving backwards with one strand left down his face to fall between his eyes. While the longer parts were left to drape centrally down his back into a thinning spiral.

His eyes have been described to be incredibly rare and beautiful, as, in colour, they appear to be made up of an array of rainbow pastel tones that fade into one another since they circle his irises. The kanji for 'Upper-Rank-Two is etched across them and they were shaped to slope downwards towards the sides of his face, with a set of notably large, thick black eyebrows acting to frame them above.

Doma wore a blood-red turtleneck of a design that made it appear that the section between his neck and upper chest is covered by a black substance that looks like its dripping slightly down his body. This same design is repeated at his wrists and down his hands, as well as on the small circular 'bloodstain'' he adorned on his forehead. Below this, he wore a pair of straight, tan-coloured pants of a pinstriped design, their cuffs visibly loose. Luckily, this is secured with a pale green-tinged golden belt, it buckles a bright silver.

Another one of the moons invaded the conversation, this one was the younger sister of Gyutaro, sharing the spot of Upper Moon 6, Daki.

"Onii-san is right dumbass! I want to see them die already!"

This woman has two pink flower tattoos, one on the corner of her forehead and the rim of her cheekbone going upwards. Her messy but long silver to lime hair waved in the gust created by the flames surrounding them, she is not interested in it. On her body she wore a two-piece flower kimono with knee-high socks on her legs to match with it, it being plant-based. Her oiran shoes covered her sock covered foot, that being the platforms she stepped on when moving around. Cracked skin was visible on opposite sides of her markings, seeming like her skin was fragile clay fracturing. Deadlocked light green eyes, the kanji for 'Upper Six' engraved into them, glared on the prize at hand, this was the humans.

Licking her lips from her feisty appetite, a seducing side of her came out as she adored the thought of hearing the boys scream as she tore into them, slow and steady. She was craving it, her devious smile gave it away as she wrapped her arms around her stomach to make sure she didn't go overboard.

The slayers didn't move a muscle, seeing the demons acting so freely. Considering that they thought Demons lost human emotions when be transformed, this proofed otherwise. Even though they still wanted to eat them, their curiosity expanded with every expanding moment. Though, sudden thought went down their spines in synchronisation:

Why were they not dead yet?