Runaway Devil

Kara

Their very genetic makeup made them less demon. The aversion to holy water was a staple of our ancestry for centuries. In all of my experience as a soldier, having seen all five corners of Hell, I had never come across a single demon with resistance to holy water.

For a brief moment, I just knelt there, my mind a mess with troubling thoughts. Another sharp crack of the whip, catching the side of my shoulder and wrapping around my back, snapped me back, and pulled a sharp hiss from my throat.

"Where are you?” Azgaria had not touched the whip or was even within five feet of it. It was her right hand that wielded it. I looked at him and saw his cold eyes assessing me. Blood still dripped from my face, warm and sticky on my skin. A cold sweat swept across my forehead. I didn’t know where to go from here, I always knew what to do. But I knelt, with Balan in my arms, too exhausted to think. ”It doesn’t matter. Nolanth, wrap this up, I want to go home.”

Nolanth raised the whip, still dripping with holy water, and readied his strike. I pulled Balan closer, wrapping my body around him completely, my heart stuttering. I braced for impact, my insides churning. Before Nolanth could strike, a piercing scream filled the air. Everything stopped and everyone looked at the source.

Issac stood, tears streaming down his flushed face. His small body shook and his glasses were fogging, slipping down his nose like they always did.

“Stop! Please stop! Kara!” Ben reached for him but was yanked away by a soldier’s rough hand. He sprawled to the ground but was back up in seconds. Jerry went from a sitting to a kneeling position, his eyes wide and ready. Issac sobbed, begging for them to stop, his voice cracking like bones. “Kara!” His voice made my chest tighten, tears already prickling in my eyes.

"What is he saying?” Azgaria asked Nolanth. He told her, which earned an eye roll and a dismissive gesture. The soldier that ripped Ben away stood, awaiting instructions. In response to Azgaria’s gesture, he snatched at Issac. The demon’s claws tore his shirt and punctured his skin, drippings of blood running down his torso.

“No!” I stood, fully prepared to throw myself across the courtyard. It was too late. The arc of his blood painted the sky. The soldier still held a fistful of his hair while his slender, fragile body twitched. Issac’s throat was clutched in the demon’s hand, dripping his life’s blood into the dirt. The cacophony of screams that suddenly filled the air did not reach me. There was a roar in my head, greater and louder than anything I had ever felt.

My body stood frozen in place, it was not my own anymore. I released it, letting the beast take control. I let go, fully.

Her eyes shown brighter than I had ever seen them. Her body became still and her energy was suddenly unrecognizable. The boy was dropped to the ground, dead and broken. His face was frozen in a mask of horror, forever. The humans that remained made sounds of fear, some crying, others wailing, thinking that they were next.

Karau took a step forward, and Nolanth cracked his whip, his attempt to keep her at bay. I gripped my battle-ax, ready to charge him. But Karau raised her arm, catching the whip in her unyielding grasp. It wrapped around her forearm, sizzling and burning her flesh. Her face was stone and her body strong. With a sharp tug of the whip, Noalanth was stumbling towards her. He dropped the handle, but he was already too close. I knew what she was going to do before she did it.

She unhinged her jaw, plunging her teeth in his throat. She ripped her head back roughly like one would treat a particularly tough piece of meat. His blood gushed and ran down her face. Her war paint had always been the blood of our enemies. And she was highly decorated.

I watched her, in all her beautiful, savage glory, my heart beating wildly in my chest. She was sure-footed, her steps solid and unflinching. I felt a blush bloom on my chest and face. Azgaria cursed at her and unsheathed her two-handed long sword. Karau stopped before she reached her and swept her gaze over to us. Her eyes pierced through me, holding my attention effortlessly. They were not her eyes, they were bestial. They were merciless. They were scary.

"Kill them all.” Her voice was not hers. It reached from depths I had never felt before. It came from the deepest darkness inside of her. I could not tell if she spoke with her mind or her mouth. Her voice reached into the back of my mind and demanded my obedience. I felt my body swell with need. Her command was law. I growled and clenched my jaw, bloodlust rising up again.

To my left, the angel was aflame. He stood, his heavy breathing mixing with guttural growls. His eyes reflected the flame around him. He extended his wings, ready to follow her command. I was reminded of a dog pulling on a leash. We stood there, awaiting permission from our commander, fangs already out and ready. We were gnashing at the bit. We did not just want to follow her command, we needed to.

“Go.” She snapped her wings open and slammed into Azgaria, she moved faster than my eyes could see. She beat her wings with such ferocity, they were climbing the air by leaps and bounds. They ascended with godlike speed, becoming smaller and smaller with each passing second.

The demons that remained were either wounded, frightened, or both. There were to be no exceptions, all would die. There would be mercy, they would be dispatched quickly and cleanly. It was more than they deserved.

After we killed the poor souls who allied themselves with Azgaria, I turned my gaze to the angel. I watched him move with grace and efficiency, burning soldiers' bodies as means of disposal. I had not expected their bodies to burn, but I watched their flesh melt from their thick bones. The smell that wafted from them was one I had smelled a thousand times. It reminded me of war, of home.

The thought of home had my gaze trailing upwards, towards my own home, who was fighting for her life.