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He brings his face closer to mine, sniffing at my hair and skin. I shudder, avoiding his intense demonic stare. Will he torment me further before finally killing me?
"Please," I whisper hoarsely. "Let me go . . ." I trail off as his red eyes narrow, seeming to judge my spirit.
"Perhaps I will let you live, little witch," the demon muses, dangling me effortlessly before him as if I weigh nothing. "If you tell me what a frail little thing like you is doing all alone out here. And what foolish thoughts led you to attack me."
I dangle helplessly in his iron grip, trembling at his claws so close to my vulnerable flesh. "I had no choice," I stammer. "My village exiled me, accused me of witchcraft. I fled here, to the forest. Then the killings started. I thought it was you." I hang my head, ashamed of my reckless arrogance.
The demon tilts his head, contemplating my words. "And so you tracked me down, thinking you could be the hero?” He chuckles. “Foolish girl."
He brings me nearer, again sniffing at my hair. I shudder as his nose trails up my neck.
"Please…" I whimper, hating my weakness.
“Hmm, perhaps I was mistaken about you," he muses. "You are not wholly without warrant."
To my shock, he sets me down gently. I stand trembling before him, not daring to run. "Tell me, little cockroach, about your magical abilities," he commands. "Where did you learn the forbidden arts?"
“Don’t call me that,” I bristle, swallowing nervously, my tongue once again getting ahead of my thoughts. "I've always had some magic for as long as I can remember. When my emotions run high, it grows stronger, but I can’t control it very well." The demon nods contemplatively as I try to hide the burns going up my arm.
“If you do not like cockroach, what should I call you?”
“My name is Annette.”
Annette. The name is unassuming but charming. It suits her.
“What is your name?” she asks uneasily, as if she is not sure she wants an answer.
“Rukh,” I tell her simply. “Raw talent alone does not grant such skills. You must have received some training."
"Well… I may have found some spellbooks hidden away in the village archives. I taught myself what I could in secret."
The demon throws back his head with a grating laugh. "Resourceful of you. Dangerous and foolish. But resourceful, nonetheless. Though clearly, your training remains … lacking."
I blush furiously. He gestures at the scorched ground where my fiery cage had been. "The incantations. Where did you learn them?"
"I told you, from the forbidden books," I admit. "I've always had a knack for remembering spells." I demonstrate by whispering an incantation and conjuring a swirl of mist in my palms.
The demon peers closer, seemingly impressed. "Strong potential, but little discipline. Should you live, which I highly doubt you will, I would very much like to see more.”
“So you’re going to kill me?” I try to keep my voice calm as I ask the question.
He pulls back, and his red eyes almost look surprised. “Kill you? Do you think you deserve to die? No, I don’t intend to kill you. I just don’t think the whims of nature will be as merciful as me, and you seem a bit too reckless to manage them successfully.”
I hmph, crossing my arms. Then, with as much dignity as I can muster, I set about collecting my belongings scattered around the area, keeping one wary eye on the demon. He makes no move to stop me. He just keeps that same burning and curious look as if weighing everything about me.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I turn and walk steadily into the woods without looking back. My heart pounds, expecting an attack at any moment.
But it never comes.
Once I'm a safe distance away, I finally stop and lean against a tree, breathing hard. I made it. But next time, I will be better prepared before facing that arrogant beast again.
As I make my way back through the dim forest, my thoughts keep returning to the strange demon who spared my life. He was nothing like the vicious, bloodthirsty monsters from childhood stories and warnings. Smug and full of himself, yes, but he restrained his hand against the human who attacked him.
And for what?
There’s more complexity to him than I expected.
Perhaps beneath the layers of predatory instincts, cruel amusement, and haughty pride, there lay some glimmer of conscious thought, even principles.
