Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"He's spent a long time looking for you"
° no.¹ °
‹Warnings› ★ Gore/Blood ★Cannibalism ★Bodily mutilation ★Child death ★Torture ★Twisted views on romance ★Possessiveness ★Mentions of suicide
*°°*
Y/n made her way up the rocky mountain, swinging the lattice basket full of coal along with her. Her steps made deep imprints within the snow and the crunchy sound echoed from the trees.
It was getting late, and she had spent the entire day down at the market, buying and selling what she could. It was one of the few ways she could help her crowded family with food and money, the same as her other older siblings, who also took up small and odd jobs.
The girl had been silently treading up the snowy slope, breathing heavily and dragging her feet. She could feel the last rays of sun stroking her back, making sure she wouldn't stop until she arrived safely back home.
It was important to get back home before dark.
When she was young, y/n had been told many night-time stories of the creatures that preyed throughout the night, taking cradle within the trees and terrorising anyone who wasn't asleep in their homes.
Her father called them demons, and that's what they were: Creatures with no humanity left within them, and instead aimed to drain it from the living. He said that they were once like them, like people, but when they were humans they were miserable and corrupt on the inside. It seemed becoming demons were destined for them; all of their hatred and self-pity, festering into one horrid being. And now, their undead purpose was to make sure everyone else suffered, just like they did.
The demons killed and maimed, and we're equally strong as they were hard to kill. Her father told y/n that only powerful warriors that wielded a special sword could kill them, that and the sun. That's why it was so important to make it back home before the sun set.
Y/n could only imagine such monsters to be just as horrifying on the outside as they were on the inside; perhaps with greying and flakey skin, boils and warts, rotten teeth and thick, sharp nails. The girl could think of only the worst when picturing their appearance, especially after the stories her father would tell her.
Her silent walk back home was interrupted when y/n suddenly paused in her step and was ripped from her anxious thoughts. She heard a human-like tread of footsteps coming from the shaded area of trees. And as she glanced over, she was shocked to see a tall male.
He had long, silvery blonde hair, with a strange looking headpiece perched on top, and wore thin clothing for such a cold environment. His red tunic tightly covered his upper body while his bottom half was buried in a baggy set of trousers.
