14. Demons and Humans

14

Demons and Humans

Morgana

" M organa?" The voice that calls out to me is soft, but after a few blinks, my focus comes back and I attempt to take in a long, painful breath.

"Sierra?" I query, as I hear a scream of pain from behind her. Standing faster than I should, I see Alistair in his enraged form—his horns much longer than they should be—engaged in battle with the Grim amidst the walls of this hay-haven. His eyes blaze with fury, and dark veins pulse visibly under his pale skin. The Grim, with its skeletal frame and tattered robes, moves with a swift, unnatural grace, its bony, needle-like fingers digging deep into Alistair's chest, drawing dark blood.

Alistair roars in pain and defiance, his muscles straining against the Grim's grip. He manages to land a powerful punch to the creature's skull, cracking its decaying flesh and causing it to momentarily recoil. But the Grim quickly recovers, its eyes glowing with malevolent intent, and it presses its attack, pushing Alistair to the ground. Nearby, but not within his reach, is Alistair's scythe, its blade gleaming with a dark, ominous light.

Dashing for the scythe, I pick it up, ignoring the searing pain that shoots through me from handling such a powerful demonic weapon. My hands burn, but I grip the scythe tightly, feeling its dark energy pulse through me. With every ounce of strength I can muster, I swing it toward the Grim.

The blade slices through the air with a deadly hiss, connecting with the Grim's back and cutting deep into its skeletal frame. The creature lets out an unearthly shriek, its grip on Alistair loosening. Black ichor oozes from the wound, and the Grim's bony fingers twitch and falter.

Fueled by adrenaline and anger, I press my attack, swinging the scythe again and again. Each strike lands with a satisfying crunch, chipping away at the Grim's bones and tearing through its decaying flesh. The creature's shrieks grow weaker, its movements more erratic.

The only one allowed to hurt my pet is me, and I'll be damned if I allow anything to kill him. With one final, powerful swing, I decapitate the Grim, its head rolling away and disintegrating into dust. The body collapses in a heap of bones and tattered robes, the dark energy dissipating.

As the scythe wisps through the air, the torturous screams of the Grim ring through my ears, making me drop the weapon. Clenching my hands, I watch Alistair sit up, the wounds already healing but the blood still staining his shirt. Kneeling down to him I touch his chest just to make sure I wasn't imagining things – that he really is okay. He grabs the back of my hand and looks in my eyes, there seems to be more regard for me than the gaping holes in his chest. As his eyes deepen in color to a human brown, they open wide in surprise and the realization hits me just as quickly. Spinning our heads to see Sierra standing with a fluffy paw hand on her hip and the head of her costume underneath the other arm she raises an eyebrow at us.

"So, magic is real , right?" She queries. Not really sure of any other way to respond, I nod. Her lips spread into a booming smile as she jumps up, dropping the head and clapping, "I knew it!"

The walk back through the grounds is an awkward one. I don't know what to say to a human about what they just saw. Alistair feels uneasy to stand next to and my throat is still raspy from the encounter, so maybe if we say nothing-

"So, what are you?" Sierra questions, looking at Alistair to her right. He looks at me over her, looking for approval I suppose but I just shrug.

"The solid truth?" He confirms.

"Of course, I can handle it. You're my friends and you protected me before." As we continue to walk through the grassy plains, surrounded by hundreds of children and adults. Each completely occupied but whatever is popping up out of nowhere, haunted houses and candy.

"I'm one of Hell's demons. I serve Lucifer and his family." Sierra stops walking and stares at him.

"So like, the horns and tattoos, earrings and stuff that's all the real you?" He physically answers by nodding his head slowly. "That's sick . Are you a demon, too?" She continues, turning to me with a face full of hope and fascination.

"No, I'm…"

Alistair answers in my place, "Morgana had an incident, and we're fixing it. But in her true form, she's Lord Lucifer's daughter, the Heir to Hell and the Princess of Darkness. Daughter of a fallen angel and with that comes some pretty sick demonic powers." Sierra's mouth drops - if she didn't have skin her jaw might have hit the ground.

"Are you serious?" She smacks my shoulder, what a strange sensation. "If you are messing with me I'm going to be so upset but this is literally the coolest thing ever. This is crazy! My friends are demons!" Demon? Disgusting, but I'll let it go for now. Surprising she sees this as a plus. "I'm jealous of your powers, can you show me something cool?"

"I can't use magic anymore." I state firmly. This time her expression changes to one similar to grief, or pity. I'm not sure which but being pitied is not something I expect to feel okay about right now.

"Oh, that sucks. Is it like a temporary thing?"

"I don't know. If it's permanent, find a cliff to push me off."

"Uh," She wasn't sure what to say but clears her throat instead, ", well, if there's a way to fix it – I'll help. That's why you were asking about daggers and stuff, right?"

"Smart human."

Sierra giggles in response, "What was that thing before?"

"A Grim." Alistair practically spits, "But it wasn't supposed to be here. That particular Grim was far gone, completely consumed by death and has lost all connection to their human form. Basically an evil spirit, though its motivations to attack my lady is beyond my comprehension."

"Why do you call her 'My Lady'?"

"She's my Master, and I'm her willing servant." I scoff slightly.

"I mean willing is a stretch. Your family's blood servitude is built into you. You can't resist my commands."

"Of course. But even so, I would still follow your command."

"Yeah, sure you would. Let's go home. I'm done with the surface right now."

"Wait!" Sierra bursts out, "Are you seriously telling me you still live in Hell? That's so wicked!"

Alistair's face is solemn as we enter my room. He's just standing near the door waiting for something to happen. Touching my shoulders I feel the bruises from Darren's aggressive force, so I suppose I will be wearing nothing but long sleeves for a little while. Walking over toward the mirror I can see that there are marks on my neck from the Grim trying to choke me to death. Make-up will be the best way to go here. But tonight was too much, and I feel uneasy.

Walking over to Alistair I place my hands on his chest, checking once again that the holes in his shirt are no longer accompanied by holes in his skin. He's fine. Not even a scratch.

"My lady?" He questions, his skin trembles under my touch. Did he think I was going to hurt him again?

"I was worried. A Grim can kill you, Alistair." I want to bite my tongue as fast as I said it. I admitted to being worried . "A-After all," I clear my throat, stepping away from him, ", I don't want to train another servant. Too much hassle."

"Of course, my lady." I can't be sure, but he looks somewhat disappointed. As I walk toward the bed and sit on the edge, Alistair starts to make himself comfortable on the floor at the foot of the bed. He was the one more brutally injured tonight and yet he's willing to sleep on the floor.

"Alistair." I say his name but I don't know what I'm trying to ask.

"Yes?" He asks.

"You did really well today. I don't want you sleeping on the floor."

"With all due respect, my lady, I don't think I should leave you in hell surrounded by demons when one just tried to kill you."

"R-Right. I suppose that's reasonable." I clear my throat and get myself comfortable under the sheets, but instead of planting myself in the middle of my large bed, I stick to the left. "Very well, but I'm rewarding you for doing well, so you can sleep on the bed. But you have to stay on top of the covers."

"My lady?" He pokes his head up and stares at me with a curious curve of his eyebrows.

"Don't make me repeat myself, you know I hate that." He scrambles himself off the floor so I attempt to hide my grin beneath the red silk covers. I feel the bed move as he lies gently onto the bed with his back toward me. It's strange, but I wouldn't mind if he faced me. Alistair is the demon that makes me feel safe.

Alistair is the one I need beside me.