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〖do you believe in god? 〗
BLOOD. IT COATS his fingers, dribbles down his chin, paints his chest and the floor. His fingers, splashed red, grasps its next victim. The thing caught in his hands wiggles, it screams, it begs for mercy. He likes when they beg. With a loud cheer he rips the human before him apart, tears the arms straight out the sockets and watches as the skin rips and blood sprays the crowd before him.
The crowd cries with joy. They raise they're hands toward the flood of maroon and cheer for him. They yell out his name with admiration. All he does it laugh. His chest heaves as he stretches out his arms, waiting for more encouragement.
He loves it. He loves the attention and the praise. They see him as a god. They worship him and he protects them. They welcome the violence and the blood. They're a vicious village that consider themselves above all and loved by him. In all honesty, he couldn't care less for the people. He had meant to kill them all and leave the place in bloody disarray, but when he had ripped the head off the first man, they had praised him. They had thrown their garments and gold and women at him and given him their devotion. Apparently he had saved them from a neighboring kingdom and they now considered him the god that finally answered their prayers.
He splits the next body handed to him, the last victim of the day. And he smirks as he watches the crowd get on their knees and bow their heads in prayer towards him.
A scoff besides him draws his attention away from the praises. Besides him is the "priest", or at least that's what the people call him. A few years ago, the people had offered the young boy to their god as a gift and asked for him to be blessed. And their god hadn't refused, but to be fair, he had been drunk of the violence of war at the time and hadn't really thought what the "blessing" he gave would entail for the future.
"Hey, what's the problem short stack?"
The boy, almost a man, bristles at the insult. "Nothing, Sukuna."
"Sukuna-sama."
He gives his god a weary look, which the curse returns with a show of bloodied canines. He shifts his gaze, "Nothing, Sukuna-sama."
Giving this boy his blood wasn't the best idea, Sukuna had figured long ago. The boy is cocky, snarky, and everything in between. If it wasn't for the cursed energy that flows through his soul, he'd be dead. But that cursed energy combined with Sukuna's "blessing" is a force to be reckoned with. Of course Sukuna could easily take the boy down-no man in this village could disgrace the proclaimed god-but it would be such a waste. And Sukuna liked to play with his toys.
However, out of all his toys and trinkets, this "priest"-Sukuna never bothered to learn his name-is definitely a favorite. It was solidified by the fact the boy hadn't had his arms ripped off from his many backhanded comments. Also, despite the cockiness, the boy does his job well. He brings everything Sukuna demands and he kills on command with-surprisingly-no hesitation. In reality, he seems to be more a pet to the King of Curse's than a useless toy. One could argue that the boy enjoys the thrill of war and blood more than the admired demon he works for.
The man especially interests Sukuna with his rather simple view of himself. The rest of the village uses layered excuses to dampen their demonic nature. They convince themselves that their enemies deserve to be torn apart and devoured by this beast. They call Sukuna a god, some say angel, despite all the markings on his face and chest that say otherwise. The priest, at least, is aware of his horrific crimes. He knows that Sukuna is no angel and he is no god. Sukuna is the devil and he's a curse, not a blessing. Sukuna finds it riveting how this man clearly knows of his transgressions, but looks for no forgiveness.
"Now that that's over," the curse licks his bloodied fingers before stretching his four arms, reaching out towards the crowd as his wicked smile grew. "BRING OUT THE WOMEN!"
Whistles and applauds. The priest rolls his eyes as he steps into the crowd, taking the hands of women too excited to be devoured by their god.
