'I know what you want.' It spoke in his mind, a voice cracked with age, echoing through his skull. 'What was kept from you from birth, dangling over your head just close enough so you could brush it with your fingertips, but just far enough that you couldn't grasp it...'
It turned to Luca, tilting his head up with one thin, clawed finger as he bled from the stump of his wrist.
'... if only for this poor boys soul.'
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And Luca was so sure, he was so sure that Wren was better than this, that he knew better than this. And Luca, delirious from blood loss, felt the tiniest spark of hope, that had flickered for a moment, be smothered as Wren smiled at him, a slow, creeping smile that terrified Luca more than the thought of death.
The demon looming above him chuckled as Wren spoke, his voice ragged from a lifetime of disuse.
'Take him.' He rasped, looking down at Luca.
And the fear, the fear, the pure, unbridled fear that swept through Luca at that moment was overwhelming, blocking out all of the hope just as the demon blocked out all of he light as he hovered over him, the eye on its neck staring him down.
He could feel the warm breath of it on his face. And then he could feel it drip on his face. Despite his fear, Luca opened his eyes, waiting to greet the sight of the demon drooling over him.
Instead it was that same demon, blood trickling from its mouth, swaying before him before it collapsed, revealing Wren standing behind him, one hand posed as if he had just thrown a ball. Looking down, Luca watched the Angels Mark sizzle and burn through the demons skin from its place engraved on the dagger that stuck from its back.
