97. Cravings

Isaac slowed his steps as he proceeded down the hallway. He frowned, eyes drawn towards the large glass windows lining the walls. Just outside, three demons were visible standing near the entrance of the building.

One of the demons was relatively humanoid in form, with bright red skin that nearly blended into Solonell City’s sky. The second was twice the size of their companions, and multiple green eyes darted about the surroundings from the tips of the demon’s leathery wings. The third was a bit shorter than the first, but her large, branching bone white horns gave the impression that she was much taller than she was. Though it was difficult to make out details from the distance, the three seemed to be conversing, occasionally shuffling and flying about.

Isaac frowned. He’d seen demons in Solonell City before, but the way the trio seemed to deliberately linger by the building, hovering away during particularly energetic conversation pieces only to return immediately, put him on edge. His shoulders tensed and he found himself instinctively moving to grip his tablet.

He exhaled. Calm down, he told himself. The murders were making him more jumpy than usual; they probably had a perfectly understandable reason to be there. No need to get worked up over nothing.

Isaac furrowed his brow, thinking back to his conversation with Rosalinde. She’d mentioned the bodies being moved to the building. Maybe the demons had overheard and wanted to pay respects. His muscles slacked, a new sense of guilt rising. The deaths had been extremely sudden, after all; it was only normal to want to confirm things, to try and make peace with what had happened. He would’ve done the same.

With new resolve, Isaac continued down the hallway and out the building’s main entrance. The two glass doors swung silently shut behind him, but the trio of demons turned his direction the moment his feet hit the pavement. As expected, all of them were watching him.

He straightened his back and cleared his throat. “Do you need something?”

The demons didn’t move or respond for a few seconds, simply staring in his direction. None of them blinked. Isaac shifted his weight.

Finally, the first demon with bright red skin stepped forward. When he spoke, his voice was lower than Isaac had expected, and it sounded like a blend of a human and a snake’s hissing.

“The bodies’re here, right?”

So his theory had been correct. Isaac’s shoulders fell, and he avoided their gazes. He wondered which of the victims they’d known. Maybe they were here for more than one. Maybe they’d known all of them.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. The demons exchanged glances, and the first demon took another step forward.

“Can we see them?”

Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but he hesitated. Images of the alleyway flashed in his mind, the scattered clumps in a pool of red, the crude shapes rendered on a white page, roughly approximating the reality. It was too messy to separate out, Rosalinde had said.

Demons were used to violence, he reminded himself. Still, he would feel bad if he didn’t warn them first. It was different when it happened to people you knew, he thought with a pang. He’d certainly never paid the news a second glance when another accident was broadcast, no matter how bloody the details, but he’d dreamed of the darkened streets, the flashing lights, the screeching of tires, and that sickening crunch for years after Lloyd had died. He still did.

“I won’t stop you,” Isaac finally said, “but I should warn you the deaths were…violent,” he finally settled on. It seemed a terrible understatement, but he didn’t know how else he could explain without coming across as insensitive.

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“We heard.” The voice was blunt.

“I just wanted to make sure. They—“

“Yeah yeah, we get it,” the demon interrupted.

Isaac paused, frowning. The demon’s tone had been impatient, but that wasn’t what made him stop. He furrowed his brow, noting the way the demon’s wings flapped and twitched, how his eyes gleamed in the light. There was no grief or unease in his expression, nor was there any in the other two’s. They looked almost distant, like spectators. That was when it clicked.

What he saw wasn’t the nervous impatience of someone trying to get through a difficult task. No, that wasn’t it at all.

It was excitement, Isaac realized. Barely bottled enthusiasm.

He recognized that manic glint in their gazes. He’d seen it before fights broke out in Chrowall, had seen it plenty during the tournament. It was a plain, unbridled craving for violence.

Sharil’s voice rang in his mind. I’m sure this is exciting for most of them.

All at once, any sense of empathy he’d felt drained away and was replaced with raw disgust. The three figures standing before him didn’t care about the victims at all. This was nothing but a source of amusement. His fingers clenched into a fist.

“This isn’t some show, you know. People are dead.” His voice shook slightly with barely suppressed anger.

The demons exchanged looks, and this time there was no mistaking the amusement in their expressions. It only made him angrier.

The first demon waved flippantly, claws glinting in the light.

“It’s their own fault for being weak,” he drawled. “They let themselves get soft.”

Isaac thought of Olzu practicing into the night, over and over again, flying forward on strained wings in a desperate bid to prove himself.

The horned demon nodded in agreement. “It’s only natural to be curious. It’s been a long time. That tournament barely counted as entertainment,” she said.

“Yep, I was expecting a lot more, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. That merfolk was pretty funny though. Shame he got teleported away before we could see—“

“Leave.”

Later on, Isaac would be surprised at how sharp his own voice sounded then, but at the moment, he could think of nothing but getting the three figures in front of him out of his sight.

The first demon frowned. “What? You can’t—“

“I said leave. I’m not letting any of you inside.”

The demon stared at him, scrutinizing. “You’re not kidding.” He looked taken aback, but just as quickly, his expression soon morphed into anger. He scowled, revealing long, sharp fangs. His wings flapped once, sending a gust of wind blowing past him, but Isaac didn’t move even when the demon leaned into his space.

“You’re damned lucky that witch likes you. The weakest demon in the Inferno could breathe on you and you’d be pulp.”

Isaac met his slit-eyed gaze without hesitation.

“How fortunate that the System’s in place, then,” he said coolly.

The demon snarled. A puff of breath escaped his mouth; his breath stunk of iron and dirt.

“You’re just a powerless human running around acting high and mighty. When this fucking System implodes, you’re gonna be the first one everyone goes after. No one’ll play nice anymore.”

Isaac’s nails dug so deep into his palm that his skin stung. He took a step forward so that he was directly in the demon’s face. When he spoke, his voice matched the venom in the demon’s word for word. “Do that then. But right now you can’t touch me, and I’m telling you to get the fuck out.”

Silence fell over the street. For a second neither of them moved, locked into a wordless standoff.

Finally, with another snarl, the demon turned away.

“We’re leaving,” he snapped to the other two demons. His wings flapped violently, and he shot Isaac a sneer. “This was a waste of time.”

A blast of wind nearly knocked Isaac from where he stood, but he grit his teeth and kept his feet planted firmly on the ground. The three demons shot into the sky, their dark figures jutting out against the flat crimson. They soared away, kicking up thick clouds of dust behind them as they disappeared into the scenery.

By the time they finally vanished from view, Isaac had unclenched his fingers and was forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. His heartbeat pounded violently against his ribcage. He could still feel the anger lingering under his skin, constantly bubbling and sparking. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and the surface of the tablet screen felt like it was burning.

Raising his head, Isaac strode forward in heavy, resolute steps. Surrounded by the empty streets, they seemed to echo, ringing across the hard pavement.