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I dash down the hall and look at the doors. Usually, a guard is posted at each one, and there are none in sight tonight.
I hear the creature slam against the hallway walls, buzzing and howling. The sound of it grows as I continue to run, praying I can make it to the front door.
I turn a corner and see the main tower door in sight. It’s already open, and the demon Systorak hired is trying to squeeze his way through.
“Move!” I yell, dashing down the hall.
“Can’t move,” the brute responds loudly.
I look behind me and see the demon gaining. I glance at the staircase winding up the tower to my left and take the chance, glancing at the demon-for-hire once more.
I race up the stairs, hearing my feet clunk on the iron with each step. The flying demon slams and bangs against the iron walls as it flies after me.
I reach the second landing and take off down another hallway, not daring to look back. Any distraction could lead to me tripping and falling, and I’ll be dead within seconds if that thing catches me.
I see a corner approaching the end of the hallway and round it, expecting to see more doors on the walls. Instead, I hit my head on the concrete and fall to the floor.
I groan and roll over, rubbing my head. The buzzing and howling get louder until the thing lands right in front of me, towering over me with an evil stare. I glance at its fangs as it bellows loudly. I cover my ears and close my eyes.
My dreams run through my mind. There is an evil, end-of-day monster about to take my life, but all I can see are my friends laughing as we cheer to a night we’ll never forget.
I tense my muscles and brace for impact, whether it be a stinger, fang, or sharp claw. I silently pray that it’ll be quick. I wonder if whoever I’m praying to can even hear me trapped in this unique punishment. Whatever method the creature will use to take my life, I’m ready for it. Anything is better than being imprisoned here.
TEN
SYSTORAK
Tonight is the night. All I have to do is lay here in bed and ignore the chaos as it ensues. Be that silent party that allows violence to commence, all while walking away with clean hands. It isn’t much to do, and as a demon, I am aware of the various calamities that have occurred with the prideful desire in mind for higher status. I have been claimed by that poison, and as appealing as it may be, I know it is highly toxic.
It begins later in the night, I assume, as Lana sleeps. I am unable to sleep, of course, despite my interest in demonic nobility and commitment to the plan. It all starts off with a crashing through her window, a sharp shattering, accompanied by an undeniable shriek.
I try to pull the covers over my head and block out all the violent thoughts in my head. But like that act, it is pointless, and Lana’s cries for help, accompanied by the hissing of the assassin, make my stomach turn.
A horrific vision enters my mind almost like an apparition … Lana with her beautifully enticing body splayed out like prey that’s been caught and torn to pieces, blood and organs torn from her skeleton like a pig post-slaughter. The brown of her eyes has dulled, faded to almost a gray, an eternal expression of cerebral indifference set by death’s hands.
I squeeze all four of my fists together, rage and concern surging through my bones. I hear Lana escape from her room, accompanied by a harsh slam. A thud rings through my ears, and I get up and out of bed before I can stop myself.
I swing the door open and move quickly down the hallway, the glowing lights of the chandelier flashing by like paint streaks. I am thinking of nothing else but saving this incredible woman, one who deserves more than to be betrayed by a sad, noble-less demon like myself.
Everything I ever wanted filters out of my brain like soil through a sieve as I come upon Lana in the hallway, laying flat on her back, her forehead swollen from the collision. The demon is hovering over her, fangs protruding with a look of utter delight in its multiple eyes.
“Get away from her!”
I snarl at the creature, and it turns to me, massive wings flapping in the air and creating a small current of wind. I have no idea if Lana is out cold or not or even if this assassin knows who I am in relation to his hire, but it doesn’t matter anymore.
All that matters is that I get this angelic woman back on her feet and to safety.
I crouch, getting onto all six of my limbs, and crawl in a staccato pace toward the demon. He is confused, I’m sure, but I take advantage of this, tackling him off of Lana's subdued body and smashing him into the wall.
He cries out a wet, guttural sound as his body collides with the stone, his multiple eyes inflamed with frustration, and he tries to sting me in the chest.
Fortunately for me, I have the use of many limbs and take hold of it before it has the chance to impale me.I squeeze it tightly, bending it in an unnatural position as I use my other hands to strangle it by the throat. I feel something snap, and instantly, the demon is silenced.
My hands are coated in something wet since the snapping sound occurred, echoing down the hallways, and I peer down to see royal-purple-shaded blood pouring over my palms. I chuckle darkly to myself, thinking that the color itself was fateful.
“Systorak?”
I hold the dead carcass of the wasp in my upper arms, still pinning it against the wall in case it was playing dead. I turn to see Lana has awakened and is scrambling around on the floor, attempting to stand.
