. the stench of sulfur fills the kelpie’s nostrils, obscuring the rich aroma of blood throbbing just beneath his thumb poised on this victim’s throat. a DEMON. his fury is immediate, rotten-corpse body stiffening and the sharp nubs of his spine pressing hard at the flat expanse of his suit jacket. his cheeks are sunken with hunger, and NOTHING will stop him from this feast. he will consume this fledgling witch body and soul. ❝ you’ll not rob me of this one, demon. her soul is beyond your reach, and whatever pathetic allegiance she may have to your kind cannot save her. ❞
❝ you forget yourself, ❞ the words were said cooly; no traces of malice behind them at all. in-fact, it even surprised the demon himself on how expertly he managed to pull it off. ❝ the soul of that one means NOTHING to me. ❞ it was, in all reality, the truth; one soul wouldn’t make or break him. ❝ take her soul – take a HUNDRED other’s. ❞ no, they could have their feast; have several in-fact. it didn’t matter to him. not truly at any-rate. ❝ it matters not to me, ❞ he said bluntly. ❝ an’ it’s not why i’m here. ❞
Hellfirebound 