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The Demon

He made his presence known, he groaned and with each step he cracked the leaves below his feet.

"You should be dead...!" He moaned. "You should be dead...!"

I could feel the darkness rising from the ground below him. This demon was close to me. Its dark eyes pierced into my soul - Watching me with all of the strength he knew it had. It wanted to devour me, yet it had no control over me. This was his game.

"You ruined our game...!" His voice was raspy, cold and smoky. "You destroyed the game..." He paused for a moment. "You will not win..."

I tried to speak but, "Wh-Wh-Who are you?" I stuttered.

"I am a watcher, an observer. You're not supposed to be here... You're a liability...!"

I was not supposed to be here. I was not supposed to be alive. I closed my eyes and felt his eyes on my face.

"You died out there... Shot, maimed, frozen... You should be dead... But you're not..."

His icy breath blew into my nostrils and I wanted to vomit. My body jerked uncontrollably as I opened my eyes to see the demon in front of me.

"I don't know what you are...! But I don't like you..." he hissed. "You shouldn't be here."

He walked around me, shaking his head at me, "You're not supposed to be here... You're a liability, a waste, an accident...!" He stopped and turned around.

I could see the look of contempt in his eyes. He was not pleased with me at all.

"A waste...! A waste..." He mumbled.

He walked towards me, he approached me, I stood frozen, watching him. I could not move, not until he had finished with me. I could see his evil face. He grabbed me by the neck and twisted it around until he ripped it completely off, the black blood that came from my neck made a large puddle on the ground. I watched as my head was being torn off.

"A waste...!" He mumbled.

He walked towards me, and I stood there in horror, my throat was no longer a throat. I felt my spine ripping and my arms and legs shaking like someone with the chills. I fell to the ground. My head was lying on the ground.

He picked up my head and threw it into the air - Not literally, but it sounded like the cracking of wood and the sickening thud it made was very real.

"Your brains were splattered against the snow, frozen before that... A waste...!" I sat in a dark daze and did not want to move. The cold was numbing my body. "You're still damaged, a husk of a human.. Not a pureblooded..." He paused.

He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to my feet. He walked past the lake, towards the forest.

"I'm going to turn you back to what you were...!" He spat.

I watched him as he took out his scythe, the handle was dark metal, stained with blood and I felt my stomach curling in pain. He raised it above his head, "You were born to die... To die in the fire... But I'll show you some mercy, you're one of the few I've seen..." He smiled a twisted smile, "I'll use your blood to cleanse my blade... Then I'll turn you into the thing you are meant to be..." He was looking at me again, "Your purebred heart beats to a dark rhythm and I want to make you suffer..." He paused and grinned again, "I want to make you pay for what you have done..."

I opened my mouth to speak, my lips were dry and I had the urge to puke. He had to know, "who are you?" I croaked.

He pulled out a flask of dark red liquid and put it into his mouth. He drank it down as fast as I watched, licking his lips and smirking at me, his dark blue eyes pierced into my soul.

"That's blood... That's yours...! I'll cleanse my blade of you, I will use you..." His smirk turned into a smile.

He walked around me again, he grabbed my arm and pulled me to a wooden chest. He opened the chest and smiled, "You can thank the gods you're not human..."

"No..." I muttered.

He grabbed me again, "You're a waste..." He spat, "A waste... You should not exist..."

"No..." I whispered.

He put his hand on my throat, "A waste... A waste..."

"No..." I moaned.

He put his other hand on my head, "A waste... A waste..."

"No..." I cried.

"You're one of the few who are pure blooded... I've seen other creatures like you, they weren't very good... Your heart belongs to a purebred creature... You deserve no pity..."

"No..."

I could feel the pain of his hand on my neck, I could feel the burning of his fingers on my head and yet I could not scream...

He pulled off his glove and pressed his hand on the side of my face, "You're my type..."

And then, THWACK!

The demon fell down, and I looked up to see who did that - I saw the straw hair man standing over him with a large rock.

He'd come to my rescue.