TRAITOR [kny x M!demon!reader] DISCONTINUED

016. UNFINISHED PART

As i said, i'm discontinuing this book, but i realized that i had a draft that i worked really hard on. This is that draft. It is unfinished and WILL NOT be finished.

016. What am I?

Darkness.... the inky, black night sky was darkness..

Running... the pitter-patter of feet on the crunchy, snow-covered leaves.

Scared.

all (@%#&) could think about....

He was scared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oka-san, i'm going out now!"

"Alright, sweetie. Please come back soon. And be safe. "

(<$^×>)'s mother tells him, in the small kitchen of their small cabin.

"Don't worry, i'll be safe!"

He waved, though his mother didn't turn to wave back, ..busy preparing dinner. (@^#^&) sighed and exited the cabin. The creaking of the wooden patio that was decaying was too noticeable.

It was a snowy day, winter time... it got dark early, so he mustn't be out for too long. (#^%@*) kept walking, his snow boots flattening the fluffy snow beneath them with rigor.

He and his single mother lived in a rural town, very small, with only 30 or so people all together. They lived upon a hilltop, distant from the village, a short but treacherous journey to get back and forth.

Currently, (×/÷;#*) was on his way to sell wood that he had chopped earlier that evening to the town people. He spent all day perfecting his woodworking ability so that he could hopefully sell at least a few wooden items so that he and his mother could be warm, with full bellies.

The town folk didn't really like them, which is why they live in a small broken-down cabin, farther from the village. It was for a dumb reason, (@&$^)'s father wasn't exactly present in his life, ... well.. he was, but once the village exiled him on account of manslaughter, they also completely excluded his mother and him from any sort of village activity. They suspected his mother was.. well, a witch, and he... a witch's son... a demon.

(@&$*) approached the pathway which led into the village. It was cobblestone, covered in a thin but slippery layer of ice. He sighed, an attempt to calm any nerves he had. He knew he'd be bombarded with close-minded peoples onslaught of slurs and taunts.

He knew that very well.

No one in this village knew him.

All they knew was his father.

With his anxiety pushed aside, he crept into the quiet village. The bamboo basket swung over his shoulders, filled with wooden items that he had hand-carved, as well as stacks of firewood. He stood at the first house, raising his gloved hand and knocking a few times.

"Hello, uh- good evening.. i was wondering if you'd be interested in-"

The door shut, a gust of wind slamming into his face as he stood on the small patio. Muttering from behind the door could be heard..

'Demon boy'

'Scum'

'Freak'

...

"...alright."

He said simply, moving to the next house.

"Hello! Would you be interested in wood-"

Slam

(#&$^*) took the rejection as well as he took the first one, not wanting his spirits dampened by these close-minded buffoons.

He moved on.

"Hi, would you perhaps be in need of firewood or woodworking items?"

This person allowed him to finish his sentence, and they smiled but then shook their head and shut the door in his face.

"Okay.."

He sighed, dejectedly. Walking to the next door, the last one on this street of homes.

His cold hand rose, knocking on the wooden door.

A tall, able-bodied man opened it. (&#%%) would never forget his beautiful scarlet eyes, slitted like a cat, inhuman. His dark, black hair, straight and medium length.

"U-uhm.." he stuttered.

The man's eyebrow raised as if expecting him to speak.

"W-would you be interested in buying some firewood or woodwork items? Sir? I've crafted them by hand."

The slim yet broad man was silent, and (&#^%) could feel an almost animalistic sort of aura around his body.

"Uhm, or not.." he stepped back.

"No, no.. i am interested. What exactly do you have to offer?"

(*#^%) was almost caught off guard, the man's voice was silky-smooth, deep, but not too deep, husky, yet soft as velvet robes could be.

"Oh, uh, i have this... and this ..."

He continued presenting the few items he had. The man stayed in place as (#*%!) explained what they were and their functions.

"And i've also got firewood. If your home is ever too cold."

He stated, arms coming together to hold each other at their sides. Perhaps from anxiety, or the ebbing feeling of dread in his stomach.

"What lovely items, how about you come inside? I'll make some tea, it's quite dark out." The man smiled with seemingly good intentions.

"Oh, that's alright, sir. I've got to get home soon, i promised my mother i'd be back home safe."

(!*@^$) politely declined, giving a soft yet unnerved smile back to the older man.

"Oh, but it really is dangerous after dark. I'm sure your mother would much rather have you come home in the morning when there are no demons out."

"Demons?"

"Yes, demons, they really are real, you know. I've seen them. They are really nasty things, eating us humans."

The man explains in a strange, non-threatening manner.

"Well, i'd rather not get eaten by demons..."

The man stepped to the side as if inviting (!*^#) inside. Against his better judgment, he entered the large home.

Immediately, ...

...an overwhelming fear crept into his body, the hairs on his arms raising in undoubting alarm.

As he walked in, the man closed the door behind him, the lock clicking into place.

(Unfinished)

Blah blah blah, it turns out the man is muzan. He attacks the reader, but the reader fights back. It's unsuccessful, but Muzan sees that the reader has potential, makes him a demon, and the reader kills his family, then becomes 0 upper moon! Hoooraayy backstory.