She felt the taste of blood in her mouth.

It was not an unpleasant taste. It tasted like victory. Not only had he beat her, he had spilled her blood and that made it more real. More shocking. That was why she had phrased the order as she had.

Because a few blows were not enough to destroy him.

Because she wanted to create the greatest possible effect, and she had succeeded, and on top of that he would go further. Amy knew he would do it, that he was still under her control.

Not because of the lack of humanity in his face. There was never any humanity there that wasn't disgusting and obviously fake to her, who knew him.

But because it was empty. His face, his eyes.

And because of something simpler: if he were in control, he would have stopped. Not because he cared about beating her up, nor because he wouldn't wish to beat her to a pulp after what she'd done to him. Just because they were in public.

She was right, of course.

Even though she was on her knees, the demon grabbed her by the hair and threw another punch.

"Stop it! Stop, by the gods, what kind of father are you?

Amy couldn't help but smile at that. Even though he had referred to him as her father, it was a nice thing to hear, yes.

Horrified reactions were fine, but a verbal admission that this was really happening...that people were seeing the true face of this demon was the most satisfying thing she could think of.

So many years

(another punch)

fooling those around her. Making it seem like she was the problem.

That he was some kind of saint.

(blood fell from her mouth with the next punch)

A patient father having to deal with a troubled daughter.

But now, the truth was coming out.

I win.

I win.

And the final blow came. The blow that knocked her to the ground, ending the trance in which the demon was immersed.

She saw him wake up. She saw the confusion and fear in his eyes, which was great, like a feast.

Those emotions were quickly replaced by anger, but that was fine in its own way, she realized. For she had never seen him as angry as he was now.

Before, he had been angry in the same way of a child who couldn't play with his favorite toy.

But now he was beside himself. Now the madness shone in his eyes like a shooting star.

By which Amy meant it would burn out quickly, yes, but it would burn hotter than anything else.

"What have you done to me?" he asked... no, the demon demanded in a trembling voice, looking down at his hands.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Amy replied, staying on the ground, trying to pretend that she was weaker than she really was. That she was the victim...

No, she was the victim here, even if this time she had forced him to hit her.

She didn't make her voice so weak that the crowd couldn't hear her, of course. That was important.

"Don't you play dumb, you little bitch! How dare you...?"

Take control away from me, he was about to say.

Same old protest, she realized. The same reason he cared so much that she wanted to live her own life, without being tied to her mother's last name.

Without being a piece on his board.

It was all about control, in the end. That was something they both agreed on.

Unfortunately.

"Come here." He grabbed Amy's hair, pulled her up, forcing her to her knees. "You've made a big mistake. The biggest mistake of your life."

Henry dragged her off the stage, and she allowed herself to be dragged without resistance. It would have been easy to break his grip and give him a good beating, even kill him, but that would work against her.

On the contrary, for every single thing that was coming out of that demon's mouth, every single thing he was doing.

If he had given up, if he wanted to finish hanging himself with his own hands, great.

"Guards! Get all these people out of here!"

The guards quickly spread out across the field, setting out to do just that. And those gathered there didn't resist, but meekly followed the guards' orders.

It was a very large crowd. If they had wanted to, they would have turned on the guards and overpowered them with relative ease, for there were only a few dozen of them.

The guards would have been engulfed by a raging crowd with relative ease.

But well, she hadn't expected it to happen, there was no need for it to happen.

And it's not as if they had submitted, not entirely.

They were talking.

"That poor girl..."

"Bleeding from the mouth...."

"Hurry up. Go on, get out of here, you're taking too long."One of the guards was pushing the crowd to move faster.

"And if this is what he does in public, what won't he do behind closed doors?"

Those words were like music to Amy's ears. What had happened here would spread like wildfire.

Before the day was over, possibly, she would be free of the demon's control.

The aforementioned was dragging her, pulling her by the hair, towards the mansion. She would wait for the doors to close behind them before acting.

It would look bad if the victim showed she had the ability to fight back perfectly.

This was the truth. She had never, until today, had power over him because their fight had never been physical. It had never been so simple.

If it had been that simple, she would have been rid of all this shit years ago.

But at last, at last, the day had come. Yes.

Well, there was a chance that this wasn't the day.

That what she had done here and now wasn't enough to get out of his shadow, regardless. But it didn't matter.

The demon couldn't take this power away from her.

Amy would do whatever it took, as many times as it took.

One day, sooner or later, she would defeat him and see his empire in ruins. And it would become his grave.

With bloodstained lips, Amy grinned from ear to ear.

It couldn't be helped. And he would never recover from that. It would be better than killing him. Make him suffer. Pay for everything he' d done to her.

Henry opened the mansion doors and stepped inside, dragging her behind her.

"I don't understand what happened. It's like I fell asleep.... "He mumbled in a lost tone, as if looking for an explanation. Clearly this had affected him more than she had thought. Clearly, he was aware that everything was falling apart in front of his eyes. Good. "Only I woke up with you on the floor, pain and blood on my fists. You did something to me. I know. I know, otherwise..."

"You know... what my affinity is. How could I have done anything to you?"

There was no point in hiding that she had been responsible, but she did it anyway.

What was the point?

Did it make sense or had it been nothing more than an impulse? Something like she...

No, better not to think of it that way.

"Not personally, maybe. But you hired someone to do it.

"Or maybe it happened because you've always been out of your mind," she said, openly and unabashedly rejoicing, "but today you've lost it altogether. Have you ever thought about that?"

Ah, now Amy understood.

Amy hadn't gone in this direction because the damage the demon had done to her had scarred her, to the point that she was afraid to admit to it.

This was what she had wanted to do.

To taunt him. Make him doubt his own sanity.

Winning wasn't enough. She had to rub it in his face.

"Don't talk to me like that.

Amy broke the grip on her hair and faced the demon, proving to herself that she wasn't afraid, that there wasn't a trace of fear left in her heart.

"If you're so sure it was me," Amy said slowly, "what makes you think you can order me around? Huh?"

"That's basically an admission," the demon replied, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, yes, but it's my word against yours, and you know which one will seem more credible. Soon, everyone will know what kind of monster you are."

She dropped the idea, though, admitting that she surely wasn't going to get anywhere with that.

"I'll get out of this. I always find a way."

Henry sounded confident, even. Irritating. He had no reason to be, after everything that had happened, what he knew.

" Not this time. I'm going to bury you," Amy declared without the slightest trace of hesitation.

"Oh, yeah? Yeah? Come here, for fuck's sake. You may be right. But by the gods, I still have plenty of time to teach you respect."

He grabbed her shoulder, this time, and pulled her somewhere else.

"Now, everyone knows you're a piece of shit. There's no point in hiding." Not so long ago, she couldn't have dreamed of having the courage to speak to the demon like that.

Was it also due to this power?

No. It was certainly helping, but no. This strength came from herself. Not only had she stood up to the demon before she got the power, once, but she had actually skewered his hand.

This strength was hers, and this resistance was what she should have done long ago.

Looking back, she had no idea why she hadn't done it sooner.

She felt so... so good. So free.

And it was easy, that was the best thing about it. Easy, almost natural.

"Ah, don't worry, I'm not hiding."

Servants watched them as they passed aisle after aisle, toward a destination still unknown to her, though she didn't care.

The servants did nothing. They did not protest.

That didn't bother her either.

"So, what's the point of running around? Go on, hit me, if it will make you feel better. But it won't change that you've sown the seeds of your own destruction. And they're blooming, oh yes, I can hear them blooming."

Amy burst out laughing without being able to stop herself, without wanting to.

With a hint of hysteria?

No, there was only happiness in that laugh. Like a little girl who had received a gift she had been waiting for a long time. A pure and free laugh, honest, without a hint of evil.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

The demon looked at her out of the corner of his eye. His face twisted.

"I'm not going to lay a hand on you."

"What else would you do? It's the only thing you know how to do."

The demon finally stopped.

It was in front of a door, the door to the basement. Amy visibly tensed.

"What you want to do with me; I'll bury you in the dark. Just like in the old days. Only this time you won't come out for a long time."

I don't want to go back into the dark, she thought.

Amy gritted her teeth. She shouldn't have done it, shouldn't have given him exactly what he wanted, but she lost her cool.

She struggled, trying to break free, but Henry held her back with the strength of someone possessed by rage. He opened the door and pushed it open, trying to pull her into the basement, and she had to concentrate on holding her position.

It should have been easy to get rid of him, anyway. But, for some reason...

No. No reason at all.

She knew why, even if she didn't want to admit it. He knew her weakness. The truth was very simple. That hearing him scream, that seeing his face contort in anger, had been undermining her defenses.

And now she was scared out of her mind. Like a child who could do nothing but curl into a ball and wait for it all to be over.

She was shaking. She was shaking and this was going to get out of hand, if this continued.

The worst part was that the demon noticed. But of course he did.

How was he going to overlook something like that, so juicy to bite into? That's what he lived on. On fear. Control.

"Are you afraid? Fine. You thought you could do this to me and there'd be no consequences? Threaten everything that's mine? Think again."

But just because she was afraid didn't mean she couldn't fight.

I can do this! I can do this.

"Yours? Yours? None of this is yours, you piece of shit. "At first Amy's voice sounded very weak, full of doubt, but by the end she had regained the strength that had allowed her to get this far.

That was only, evidently, in how she sounded.

Her heart was another story. However... I can.

Henry, to her surprise, stopped struggling with her. He stopped trying

(bury her in the dark)

to push her inside.

To stare at her, with the lifeless eyes of a statue. That comparison reminded him of his power. Amy only had to give him one command and then it would all be over. She had that safety net.

"My mother gave you everything. You're like a worm devouring a corpse from the inside. You're nothing! Less than nothing! You never were and you never will be, because it's over, do you understand?"

"Nothing 's over. Nothing! Do you hear me?"

"Let go of me," she said at last, and her heart almost stopped.....

When she saw that the order had no effect whatsoever. He went on with his business.

"Stupid girl, all this time I've been acting like your father, acting like I should, but you never listen to me, yes, you always close your ears to the voice of reason. But I don't have to put up with this. All of this is mine and will remain mine. I won't let anyone get in the way, no one, no one, I'll kill you first!"

He didn't sound like a human being.

Nor did he look like a human being. From head to toe, he truly looked like a demon from the bowels of hell. Searching...

Searching for something. Now she wasn't sure what, all of a sudden. But something.

She was strangely calm, even though he had just threatened to kill her. As if this was all happening to someone else.

In the midst of that dream-like struggle, Amy scratched Henry's face, creating three thick lines of blood that ran down his face, down to his neck. The blood was visible on his pale skin.

Henry threw her to the ground, pushing her down. Amy stumbled backward on her hands. Into the darkness.

"I'm someone great."

"Go to hell," Amy said and spat in his face. More blood than spit.

Henry raised a hand, slowly wiped the spittle from his face.

And he lunged at her.

"Stay still! "She tried again, but, again, the command didn't work. How was that possible, what was going on? That was all she could think about, even as the demon stood over her....

And put his hands around her neck, squeezing. That was all she could think about even after the pain, even after the lack of oxygen kicked in.

It didn't make sense.

It didn't make sense.

Her power couldn't have just disappeared. Not when she was so close to the end, to getting everything she wanted. So what was the problem?

El problema...

The problem was that she was acting stupid. As if she could only rely on the gift Abigail had given her. She was much more than that, she was a fighter.

She didn't have her sword on her, how could she attend a charity event with a weapon?

But that didn't matter in the slightest either.

A sword was useful when enemies got too close and it also served as a conductor for her magic. But she didn't need the sword to use it, just to control it better.

Amy went on the attack.

She created a block of ice between them, pushing him back, knocking him off her.

She took a deep breath, greedily, she had been dangerously close to losing consciousness.

Amy stood up, trembling slightly.

Looking at the demon, lying there on the ground, struggling to get up, he didn't seem like a demon.

As it was, it didn't deserve to be called a human being.

It didn't deserve a human name like Henry.

But, at the same time, she should stop calling him a demon. Because he was no demon. He was a pathetic worm, yes, just that, as she had said.

And to call him a demon was just giving him undeserved credit.

As if he were some fearsome creature. Something larger than life.

It was a worm, really. Amy could squash him any time she wanted.

But it didn't suit her to do so. Crushing it wouldn't help her at all, in fact, it would ruin all her efforts.

Even though he had tried to kill her by strangling her, even though she could say it had been self-defense and would probably be believed, even without witnesses, given what the crowd had seen....

Things were not that simple. She would end up in jail or, at the very least, never return to the academy.

At the very least? Amy couldn't think of anything worse.

"I made you the person you are," Henry said with a hand on his chest, "I raised you."

"I'm the person I am now in spite of you, not because of you. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you'd say that. Always trying to take credit for things you had nothing to do with."

Henry spat on the ground.

He spat blood that had filled his mouth. When she'd pushed him away with the ice, she'd hurt him pretty bad, it seemed.

But it hadn't quenched his murderous rage. She knew that, at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to see her dead.And when she saw him rush toward her, her suspicion was confirmed. He had abandoned reason and all logic, yielding the reins to rage. Although he ought to know that he had nothing to do against her....

That this was not his battlefield, still, he was ready to go after her.

And he wasn't going to wait until she woke up.

He jumped on her again, grabbing her by the wrists, slamming her against some wall. His teeth were clenched and his mouth was open, like a wild animal baring all its teeth.

"I'm going to teach you well. I'm going to teach you respect."

He hauled her and pulled her down again, with him on top of her again.

But the gasp of pain that rose into the air and vibrated before disappearing into the dull darkness in which they were buried came from Henry's throat, not hers.

Because...

(blood dripping from an open wound)

Because...

(metallic smell filling his nostrils)

She had created a sword of ice in one of her hands and Henry had fallen on it. It had not been a conscious decision. Pure instinct.

The sword had pierced his chest. Now blood was dripping out of the chest wound...

and out of her mouth, falling on her, splashing her face, her neck.

Now he was dying on top of her.

And now, what could she do, what should she do?Sterile questions. The damage was done. If she called a healer, even if they saved his life, she'd be screwed anyway, she couldn't tell if it would be worse or better than just letting him die in fact.

Amy pushed him aside.

He sat up, still holding the ice sword... half of which was crimson with blood.

He looked into her eyes as he... as he agonized.

Amy didn't think that was an option anyway. He wouldn't survive long enough for a healer to attend to him.

What was done was done.

Amy was breathing heavily, as if she was tired, as if she had run a marathon or fought desperately for over an hour. Like the attack at the academy. Like that night.

It wasn't like that.It was all over so quickly. It had all turned out so... easy.

"You're smiling," Henry said weakly. He coughed several times, his strength escaping him, drawing blood. "I'm like this... and you're smiling."

Amy put a few fingers to her mouth to check. She was right.

Her smile widened.

"If only... you'd never have been born...."

"The feeling is mutual. Son de a bitch."

"Ah... Cecilia..."

Henry rolled his eyes. It took her longer than it should have to realize that he was finally gone from this world.

So that had been his last word.

Cecilia. His mother's name.

"I hate it. Every time you dirty my mother's name with your filthy mouth, my insides turn. But now... especially now... "Amy pulled the sword out of his chest with a jerk and a wet crunch. You have no right to pretend you're a human being in your last moments. You have no right, you bastard.

She raised the ice sword above her head, in her trembling hand.

And brought it down again and again, against his head, shattering it.

I don't need to see that expression on your face.

He had died calling her mother's name. And in his expression had disappeared any trace of rage, as if he had seen a beautiful dream before exhaling his last breath.

But now, his face was rapidly losing any resemblance to the face of a human being.

Blow by blow.

Amy didn't stop until there was nothing but a bloody mess beneath her. As it should have been. Still, you could tell it was the demon's face, looking closely, but it was more appropriate that way. Twisted. Bloodied.

And...

And the manic energy that had gotten her this far... she'd run out of it. Now she just felt tired and... and... not sad, but as if the basement walls were coming down on her. As the demon had done only moments ago.

Amy took a deep breath.

Okay. Okay, Amy had to figure out what to do...because the damage was done. The demon was dead and she had to deal with the consequences, whether she wanted to or not.

Whether he could or not.

After how she had... mutilated the corpse, maybe it wouldn't be so believable that she wasn't at fault, that she had done it in self defense.

But... simply hiding the corpse... burning it, getting rid of it somehow.... None of that was an option, either.

Why had she killed him? She had ruined everything with a single move. If she had simply defended herself, then escaped, then everything would have been fine.

Now she had the weight of a dead man pushing her down. Deeper into a hole she had dug with her bare hands.

Amy dropped the ice sword, which exploded into a thousand pieces when it hit the ground.

Not because the weapon was so fragile, of course.

But because of her lack of concentration. The ice she had built became brittle because of that and so the broken pieces disappeared completely, leaving no trace, going nowhere.

Only the blood that had stained it remained.

But, because of the pool of blood that stretched under and around what was left of the demon's head, a few more drops of blood on the ground made no difference.

This was all unreal somehow. As if she were dreaming.

Amy heart...

She heard footsteps approaching. Amy was about to wake up from this dream, being forced to see that this was undoubtedly reality.

She didn't have time to hide the corpse. That someone caught her moving the body.

Her heart stopped.

It wasn't a metaphor, it stopped for several painful seconds.

But she had nothing to worry about.

"So I've come too late. I should have figured things would end up like this."

The woman shaking her head in front of her was Abigail.

"Desmond's not going to like this."

"What are you doing here?" Amy asked, still on her knees on the floor.

There was no answer to her question. As if she hadn't heard her, or as if she didn't think there was any point in answering that question.

The girl swallowed, looking at the woman standing there, a shadow among shadows, with....

With a sword in her hand.

Her sword.

"What are you doing with that? My sword..."

Abigail then looked at her for the first time since she had entered the basement.

"Cleaning up your mess. Grit your teeth."

"What?

Another creak. A sliding sound. She didn't realize what had slipped, and where, until she lowered her head. Seeing the sword thrust into her body.

The edge of her own sword had pierced her skin and slipped between her ribs. Her blood was dripping onto the demon's body, joining the large puddle. She didn't understand. Why this had happened or how. She hadn't even seen the woman move.

That was the least of it now, but she couldn't get it out of her head.

Abigail pulled the sword out of her body as gently as something like this could be done. Amy immediately collapsed to one side of the demon. Her legs were no longer able to support her own weight. It had been an accurate blow, and she hadn't even seen it coming.

"Why?" Amy asked her weakly, trembling on the ground. Like a worm.

Abigail sank to one knee on the ground.

"Listen, you're not going to die. I'm doing this to help you..."

¡Help me!"

"Yes. You crossed paths," she said, pointing at her and the corpse of the demon with the tip of her sword, "with a terrible criminal, me, and you barely came out of it alive. End of story. You won't pay for anything and you can go back to your normal life. Relación normal."

Amy took a few moments to take that in.

"You could have at least... warned me."

"I didn't do it so you wouldn't protest. "Abigail stood up. Instead of looking at her, what Amy noticed was her own blood dripping down the edge of the gun. She couldn't take her eyes off it, in fact. "And now I'll finish the job."

"What does that mean?"Every word out of her mouth was an effort, it was incredibly painful.

But Amy needed to know, and couldn't think.

It was all happening... it had happened too fast.

"Attracting attention. Hey, you've made quite a racket and I don't have time to waste, they'll be here soon, so shut up and stay there, okay?"

"You stabbed me... How can you be sure...?"

"Because I have experience."

Abigail left without another word. Her shadow, stretched across the wall, lingered for a few seconds longer than she did.

And the shadow of the sword, of course. That shadow too.

The shadow of death.

Amy turned around. Her chest was aflame with pain. Everything hurt and it was hard to breathe. With her eyes closed, she could imagine that the demon was still on top of her, strangling her. It wouldn't be hard.

Amy struggled to keep her eyes open. Her consciousness that was on the verge of shutting down was a weight on her eyelids, they tried to close every time she opened them, but she kept them open, struggling to hold on to her disappearing consciousness.

She trusted Abigail, even though maybe she shouldn't after what she'd done to her.

But she didn't want to go until help arrived, at least.

She wanted to be sure she would open her eyes again and Abigail's words were not enough for her. Not for this.

Amy brought a hand to the wound, open and bleeding, with the intention of healing it. Well not quite. She wasn't capable of doing that, but at least slowing the bleeding, she could....

Should have been able to, but she didn't have the energy, not even for that.

For practically nothing.

Darkness covered everything. Before Amy lost consciousness completely, however, she thought she smelled something burning.