Daemon Sinners vs Gustav(1)

The acrid smell of burnt flesh and charred fruit hung heavy in the evening air. It mixed with the familiar scents of pine and woodsmoke that perpetually drifted through the city's marketplace.

Daemon Fallenstar stood frozen at the edge of the cobblestone square, his weathered hands clenched at his sides as he stared at the scene before him.

The leather bag the boy had been carrying moments before lay abandoned near his feet, its contents forgotten.

The child, no more than ten winters old lay motionless beside the fallen bag.

Apples, pears, and winter berries were scattered across the frost-touched stones, their once-vibrant colors now blackened and twisted.

The boy's small form was curled into himself, smoke still rising from his tattered clothing.

Daemon's stomach lurched as he caught sight of the burns that marred the child's exposed skin, the flesh bubbled and raw.

"What the hell?," Daemon whispered, his voice barely audible above the wind that whistled through the empty market stalls.

The marketplace that had been bustling with evening shoppers just minutes before now stood eerily vacant.

Wooden stalls creaked in the breeze, their colorful awnings flapping like wounded birds.

The merchants and townsfolk had vanished as quickly as the wind , they were people who already knew when to make themselves scarce in troublesome periods like this.

Only the distant sound of shutters slamming and doors barring broke the unnatural silence.

Dusk was settling over the city like a burial shroud, painting the sky in shades of deep purple and amber.

Lanterns flickered to life in upper windows, but the marketplace itself remained shrouded in gloom.

The rhythmic clank of metal against stone made Daemon realize he wasn't alone. The guard moved forward,his hands shaking slightly.

Damon just noticed that his helmet bore the emblem of a silver wolf's head. He wondered what it means. He had a newly developed aversion to wolves.

Despite his martial bearing, Daemon noticed the subtle tension in the guard's shoulders, the way his eyes darted to the shadows between buildings.

The guard was about to kneel beside the fallen child when a voice drifted down from above, lazy and honey-smooth despite the chill in the air.

"Well, well. Looks like someone finally decided to clean up the trash."

Both Daemon and the guard looked up sharply.

Perched on the edge of a three-story merchant's building was a figure that made Daemon's blood run cold.

The being hung upside down with casual ease, his bare toes gripping the carved stone ledge with inhuman precision.

His torso was exposed to the evening air, pale skin seeming to glow in the dim light.

It was however his hair and eyes that truly marked him as other, a shocking shade of pink that caught the dying sunlight like spun silk.

When the creature's eyes met Daemon's, he had to suppress a shudder.

They glowed with an inner light, golden and predatory, like those of a wolf stalking through winter forests.

He hates wolves.

The being's expression was one of profound boredom, as if the scene below was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

"Demons," the guard muttered under his breath, though his voice carried clearly in the still air.

Despite his obvious unease, he straightened his shoulders and offered a slight bow.

"I am Fuan Yi, sergeant of the Guass city guard. Might I ask what transpired here?"

The creature's lips curved into something that might have been a smile. With fluid grace, he released his grip on the ledge and dropped to the cobblestones below.

The impact made no sound, as if he weighed nothing at all.

He stretched languidly, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck with the satisfied air of someone who had just woken from a pleasant nap.

Half of Daemon's instincts screamed at him to run, to put as much distance as possible between himself and the golden-eyed being.

The other half, the curious part that had gotten him into trouble more times than he cared to count kept him rooted in place.

There was something about the creature's casual demeanor that was more unsettling than any display of rage or malice.

"I merely disposed of some refuse," the demon said, his voice carrying the same lazy quality as before. "Really, Sergeant, isn't that your job? Though I suppose you humans have always been rather lax about cleaning up your messes."

The demon's golden gaze flicked to the motionless child. "Bad enough the thing was human. Worse still that it was a thief. Stealing from fat merchants, well, not they are not thieves as well, I suppose."

Daemon felt his jaw clench, anger building in his chest like a forge fire. "It was a child," he growled, his voice rough with barely contained fury.

The demon turned those unsettling eyes on him, and Daemon felt as though he were being examined by some ancient predator.

"Trash is trash, regardless of age. The young ones simply haven't had as much time to prove their worthlessness."

Fuan Yi's knuckles whitened around his lance. "That doesn't give you the right to..."

"Rights?" The demon laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Gustav does what Gustav pleases. Those who object are welcome to scamper away with their tails between their legs. Your little badge doesn't change that, human."

The demon, Gustav took a step toward the fallen child, and Daemon felt his heart hammer against his ribs.

There was something in the creature's posture, a casual cruelty that said he had done this countless of times.

"You've made your point," Fuan Yi said, raising his lance defensively. "At least leave the boy's corpse be."

Gustav's smile widened, showing teeth that were just a little too sharp. "Oh, but I'm not quite finished with my cleaning."

Before either human could react, Gustav lifted his bare foot and brought it down on the child's skull with the sound of breaking pottery.

Brain matter and blood sprayed across the cobblestones, painting the scattered fruit in crimson.

The wet, grinding sound of crushing bone echoed through the empty marketplace.

Daemon's vision went red.

He heard Fuan Yi's roar of fury as if from a great distance, watched as the sergeant charged with his lance raised high.

The polished point swept toward Gustav's neck in a perfect arc, the kind of strike that should have separated head from shoulders.

Daemon caught the faint smile that played at Gustav's lips, the way the demon tilted his head slightly, not to avoid the blow, but to take it full on.

The lance point struck true, and for a moment, hope flared in Daemon's chest.

The weapon bounced away as if it had struck solid stone.

The impact sent shockwaves up the shaft, and Fuan Yi cried out in pain as the recoil sent him stumbling backward.

He hit the ground hard, his armor clanking against the cobblestones.

Gustav rolled his neck, working out some imaginary kink. "Hmm. That made my hair itch."

Daemon felt his hands tremble as he stared at the demon.

The creature's skin bore no mark where the lance had struck, not even a scratch.

The casual indifference in Gustav's golden eyes was more terrifying than any show of rage.

Fuan Yi struggled to his feet, his face pale but determined. "By the authority of the Guass city guard, I have the right to bring you to justice for murder."

Gustav's laughter echoed off the surrounding buildings, a sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Justice? Oh, my dear sergeant. You're welcome to try. Though I should warn you. This being a human-prevalent city won't improve your odds."

The demon's voice carried a note of genuine amusement, as if he were discussing the weather rather than the life he'd just snuffed out.

Daemon found himself caught between the urge to flee and the desperate need to act.

The danger radiating from Gustav was palpable, like heat from a blacksmith's forge, but the sight of the murdered child demanded some kind of response.

Fuan Yi raised his lance again, jaw set with grim determination. But before he could take another step, Gustav simply... moved.

One moment the demon was standing over the child's corpse, the next he was beside the sergeant, close enough to count the links in his chain mail.

Daemon's eyes widened in disbelief, he hadn't seen the creature move at all, hadn't even caught a blur of motion.

Fuan Yi's face went white with fear, his lance trembling in suddenly nerveless fingers. His feet betrayed him as a bead of sweat rolled down his face.

Gustav looked down at the sergeant with mild interest, like a cat examining a particularly dull mouse.

Then the demon yawned, long and theatrical, as if he would rather be somewhere else.