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Chapter 007: Spoonful of Evil

(This is not so plot.... ploty? Plot focused? I amde this chapter so that the enemy will realize that it was not only one but two demons. More trouble for Hirahn! Yay! Sorry that it took so long, I kind overslept. 14 hours, can you guys believe that? Anyway, enjoy this chapter, I feel it is somehow weaker than the prior ones :S!  I apologize beforehand. Enjoy! :D )+ this chapter is kind a throwback to Hirahn's past and the synopsis of the story, tell me in teh comments what I could have done better, I know this chapter could be tens of times better! :(

With nothing else to do after the grandiose meal that consisted of a heavy and fleshy main course garnished with herbs, which oddly reminded Hirahn of cilantro and mint, and a side dish of vegetables and fruits of all kinds, Hirahn wandered off through the castle with a full stomach and tired legs.

Snapping the door to his room open he graciously jumped into the bed covered in thick woollen blankets. Stripping the itchy garments from his body he changed into a comfortable grey men's skirt and a loose sand coloured linen shirt. 

Minutes passed by peacefully as he laid there, starring at the ceiling and wresting with his blanket, he thought about the upcoming weeks. There was still the issue with the corpses all aroud the stronghold, the quaked lands, unending craters and the remains of the disgusting creation Hirahn concocted on a whim. He snapped, he tried to hide it but the mental trauma inflicted by losing his loved one, the person he spent his immortal life with, could not simply be shrugged off.

It might have been just his wild imagination that projected Saraya's picture onto the princess but the words and the meaning this illusion carried onto Hirahn was the same as what the real Saraya would have wanted. Why would one want to see his loved ones suffer and grief over them endlessly? Even worse when those loved ones have an immortal life, causing their souls and minds over the passing of time to corrupt, writhing in torment they would end their lives themselves. In the end it's better to live on and keep the lost ones in good memory instead of torturing oneself about what one should have done differently.

Hirahn remembered as he laid there in the bed, starring not at the ceiling but at the heaven behind.

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Hirahn didn't know how long he carried the lifeless body of Saraya with him, how long he prayed that she woul wake up and sport a smile that would even on judgment day make the sun shine through. He still remembered her warm touch, her soft lips and gentle bossom. When he was sad she would comfort him. When he was angry she would soothe his temper, when he was happy she would be too. The only one she cared about was him and he only cared about her. Let the world end, as long as they both had each other they would face death together.

And then, as the grim reaper reached out with his scythe, left her seconds to convey her feelings in its entirety, when she died, she told Hirahn not to cry, not to sadden, to not be angry about her departure; she told him 'be happy', 'let me see you smile', 'laugh for me one last time' and with a smile on her face, 'farewell...'. And so Hirahn did, he smiled her the most goofy of smiles, he laughed the loudest laugh he could muster while he hugged her body tighter and tighter and finally he cried when she closed her eyes to be never opened again. As he starred at her motionless body, the satisfied grin on her face, her chest that stopped breathing and the hands that lost their grip, so cold and without vigor, his world came crashing down. Sky, earth, nature, fire, animals, plants, everything looked grey in Hirahn's eyes.

Years passed as he sat on the same spot he sat on years ago, still hugging Saraya's body with all his might. For decades, centuries maybe he didn't budge an inch. A forest grew around the two lovers, magically it let not one human soul into its midst. It was then that Hirahn moved, burried her corpse and left his old world, left Earth. (There I said it!)

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"Fuck...", Hirahn tried his best to stop the tears from flowing, staining the sheets in their salty wetness. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!", he sat up and put his hands on his legs. "I need to get out of here. Fast!", he whispered to himself as his eyes strangely malformed. Sweat poured down his skin and his breathing was getting heavier by the second.

Breaking his door open rather than push it open with care Hirahn stumbled into the hallway with unsteady steps. Holding his head between his hands he banged against the walls while giving is all in not keeling over completely.

Through Hirahn's eyes the corridor spiraled into strange shapes, the walls were one time close and another time to far apart to grasp them. Hirahn's shadow flared up, shifted into cruel faces and began spreading onto the walls like small blots of jetblack color.

"Ah... come on!", Hirahn shouted. The space around him warped as though it was a pond and someone threw a pebble into the water. Waves of distortions cracked over each other and magic in dangerous quantities was released.

"Tch... not here.", Hirahn mumbled once, twice, thrice.

"I have to get out, now!", he roared to himself and the castle's walls began trembling. Magical lights all throughout Ysolde began fading on and out. Their sporadic flicker presaged disaster.

*SHOOM!*

A second later Hirahn disappeared and the tempesting space calmed down. The town's lighting returned to its steady rythm of yellowish pulses of warming radiance.

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Not to far off from the castle, around the same spot were the massacre started, the same spacial distortions occured. Escorted by roaring shatters in the ground a demonic figure emerged. Once again Hirahn let his true self, his absolute self, take control over his awareness.

With avid breaths and black soot leaving between his putrescent teeth Hirahn's dark red eyes stared at the ground. His gaze turned between his demonic claws and the dark miasma that coiled itself around his limbs. Ghastly figures nestled onto his claws, flanked by the whail of thousand souls, and gnawed at his raven skin.

Hirahn clenched his fists, let his eyes rove through the now of soldiers emptied plains until he found a small fountain of light at the far end of the horizon.

Wicked fangs contorted into a grisly smile. His wings flapped, sent debris flying everywhere, and Hirahn began to lightly hover above the ground, his wings steadily moving up and down.

Setting his sight on the next prey his body tipped over slightly. Forcing magic energy into his already by aether permeated wings they began to grow and fester lurid spines on their edges. The spines moved like apendages of their own, squirming under the moonlight and raising their heads to pray to the dark deity.

In one single motion the wings on Hirahn's body propelled him with the speed of a phantom through the planes. From one shadow to the next Hirahn used the cover of the night to its full potential. Steadily he closed the gap between himself and the unsuspecting encampment, his claws already twitching from the bloodbath that was about to unfold.

A moment later he already loomed over the first soldier. Dark and disastrous a thunderous boom followed his arrival as the sound only now catched up to him. One claw lifted against the heavens, impending with its black luster it gave no time for the poor man to meet his reaper from face to face.

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"Hey Liam, have you heard about the frontlines? Obliterated by a single demon. Tch! What weaklings those farmers are.", a guard shouted out of his tent. Moving the tarpaulin to the side he exited the sandbrown tent and sat down around the warming bonfire.

"Heee... I heard it was pretty gruesome. People smashed to pieces and ripped apart. Not such a nice thought.", another sldier answered, roasting a piece of fresh game over the orange flames. Taking a bite from the skewer he took out a small scope from his vest and kept a watchful eye on the horizon; continuing to nibble on the hot meat.

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"Pffft... what are you talking about? Those peasants can't fight for shit. If seasoned soldiers like ourselves would have stationed at the front, I promise we would have taken that thing down in just moments!", the first guard said as he took his own serving of meat.

"I think you underestimate the numbers.", a man with spectacles answered. Taking a swig from his canteen and flipping through a small notebook he continued. "Over 50 thousand soldiers killed, just like that. This is not the work of a simple demon.", the man scratched his cheek with a finger. "And we still have no information what species this monster belonged to."

"Ah Sven! That thing was probably a piece of cake, the body count was all done by that stupidly strong King!", the first guard shouted with a mouth full of half cooked meat.

"Einrist I think you don't understand.", Sven, the man with the glassess, held up a page in his book. A detailed draft of a soldier's corpse was drawn onto it. "Bones broken, lower body ripped apart, left half of the face smashed into the ground and one arm was seemingly eaten off. The traces fit perfectly with the fangs of the abomination they fought against. Have you even seen that monstrosity?! That thing was stupendous 12 meters tall, even the giants of the demonkin don't come close to that!".

"That thing probably bloated before it died. Or will you now tell me that such a giant simply, poof!, spawned right in the battlefield?", Einrist obstinately defended his position.

"Sven, Einrist, you see that?", the second guard, Liam, tapped on the ground to get their attention, breaking the argument between the other two guards.

"What?", they both joined in sync.

With slightly trembling hands the guard Liam passed a gourd formed object to the other two, a small scope for surveilance. "There.", he pointed with his skittish fingers to where the guards should direct their sight.

"Hum... probably some magic going rampant. Maybe the magic went corrosive after the Vilis shot that giant flame ball.", the spectacled guard Sven mumbled.

"Yeah, I can't see shit there.", Einrist agreed with Sven.

"I tell you, there was something. Some kind of demon or so.", the soldier Liam said and stood up from the block of wood he was seated on.

A sharp wind bellowed over the fields, the fire whipped with the tumultous squall and sent tongues of orange and red ambers flying everywhere. "I don't like this.", the guard Liam whispered as he took another step back fom the camp.

"Relax man, there is nothing. And if there is we ought have seen it already", Einrist chimed.

"Man, I really don't like this right now....", Liam continued on as a slight tremble set in his steps. "I tell you, there was something!", he shouted at his two comrades with a scared voice.

Einrist and Sven eyed each other in confusion. "Sit down, drink something. The stress is getting to you.", Sven said as he approached the now utterly terrified Liam with his water flask.

"Here drink.", Sven said and pressed the waterskin into Liam's hands. Unresponsive he stared over the campfire, his hands, his entire body not moving except for a slight shiver. "Are you alright?", Sven asked as he fanned with his hand right before Liam's eyes.

"T- Uhh- M-m-MoNStEr!!!", the soldier screamed and pointed with a trembling finger over the silent fire. Sven noticed the stillness in the air and followed to where Liam was pointing. Behind the calm fire, so eerily calm, standing banefully over their frozen comrade Einrist was a winged entity. But it was not shrouded in white with wings of feathers, no, it was a creature that haunted you, ate your dreams in your sleep and twisted your mind. Tall, like a black obelisk, the creature stood with unfolded wings over their already by death marked comrade. One claw was curved into the air, blending into the night with cruel darkness fuming around it.

Sven's heart stopped beating as he noticed the cruel flicker of a grin that passed over the creatures grotesque visage. The scythe of the grim reaper hurled down and took its first soul.

In a single swip the vivid and yet xenophobic comrade of Liam and Sven was cubed into fine pieces of blood splatters and intestines.

"RYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!", the demon howled a  banshee's whail and his claws turned into blurrs. Before Einrist's life could even leave his body he was transformed into red mist that drifted off into the wind.

*Crackle*

The fire flared up as Einrist's remains were used as a fuel for the esurient flames. It crackled happily, uncaring about the cruel fate that awaited the other two soldiers, rooted in place by the terror of the demon they were facing.

Licking over his crimson stained claws with a blistered, black tongue the demon gazed at the other two soldiers with sanguine eyes. Those crimson orbs confronted with the soldiers could do nothing, not even pray. Its fell slits formed blazing crescents as it hid its blood sullied mouth behind a drape of dark flesh.

A hint of amazement over this fiend's power crossed the two soldiers eyes, though it was minuscle when compared to the primal terror they felt and how it made their marrow shudder and their souls concuss. With their bladder not in their control anymore the yellow piss plodded from their pants. The demon's face crooked as the piss stained the ground it reigned over.

Both soldiers gulped as the fire frizzled for its last moments before it was gone and with it the sparse light it provided. Leaving behind a searing trail of red the demon's diabolic eyes danced like fireflies in the night. Covered in darkness they both waited their demise, carnage unfurled.

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My eyes were watery, smoke and the scent of burned hair, flesh and bones stung my sensitive nose. I faintly remembered and, knowing what was to come, I sighed and openned my eyes. First the sun greeted me with its bright rays and aferwards a field of carnage, a red mirror glued to the ground.

I gave a quick glance around the destruction, ten or so corpses, torn apart of course, walled my feet in a disgusting sogginess. 'I thought they were only three.', I faintly remembered the faces of utter terror of the other two guards as I ripped them asunder like paper.

"Haaaaahhh.", I sat down on the only sound makeshift chair of wood. Funnily enough a soldier still held its skewer into the air, his face cracked open like an eggshell. I thanked him for the meal and plucked the skewer from his hands. In hindsight I should have known it would taste terrible. I ignroed the musty taste and simply ate my fill in this field of blood and chaos.

"What a good start in the day.", I softly spoke and rubbed my temple with one hand. The problems this would cause would bring me a massive headache, I felt it already. I was not one to flee from my responsibilities, not unless I couldn't prevent it of course. Dreaming about the trouble I would cause I began wandering back to the castle, a smile forming on my lips and a tune being whistled; but not before I licked the spit of wood clean of its disgusting but sating flesh, I was really hungry.