Dark Angel

Demon

I walk slowly into the tavern. Laughter and talk cease as my shadow moves through the door. I am not welcome. 

"Oi Blackskin! Get outta here!." I pay him no mind, and move towards the bar.

"An ale," I request, as I proceed to sit down on an old stool. A rat runs by my foot, but I pay it no notice. The barkeep, desperate for business reluctantly hands me a wooden mug. He pours the frothy liquid in and sheepishly speaks,

"That'll be eight gold mister." I place the coins on the bar and wait for him to take them. He jerks his head sideways. I move the coins further away from where I'm sitting and he picks them up. I finish the ale and place the mug softly on the bar. I push in the stool and walk out. An apple flies by my head as I open the door. I stand for a minute, then proceed to walk outside. A mother holding her child squeals as she sees me and runs into her house.

I slowly walk out of town and into the forest nearby. Only the trees grant me solace. I tread the ground on which I have walked so many times, knowing exactly where to step so as not to disturb the roots of the trees. Soon, I reach the clearing in which I have made my home. A ragged tent stands next to a small campfire. I sit down and prepare a soup from the rabbit I caught this morning. Nothing like a meal that I have prepared thousands of times. I stir the pot as a rustling reaches my ears.  twigs snap and birds fly from their nests. I casually ask, "have you come to kill me? Because that will end poorly for you." I receive no response. Clearly whoever's there doesn't want to talk to me. Minutes of silence pass and I grow annoyed. "If you do not show yourself now, I will kill you."

Words don't describe my surprise as a teenage girl walks into the clearing. Her dress is torn from branches and thorns. "Please," she says, "I mean you no harm. I've merely come to see if the whispers are true."

"What whispers?" I ask knowing what she will say.

"Rumor spread that there was a demon that makes camp in these woods. I wanted to see if they were true." She looks at me, as if disappointed. There was no demon here. Merely a man with skin dark as night.

"I assure you girl that there is no demon here. Merely a person whom men fear because of his appearance." She walks around the clearing.

"Why do they call you a demon then?" I chuckle. She gives me a confused look. "Did I say something humorous?"

"I find humor in the fact that you came to see a demon without knowing anything about him. You knew not his personality, not his attitude towards strangers trespassing on his place of haven, not his ability to kill you at any moment in time." As I say this, I Unwrap my wings from my cloak. She gazes in awe as I stretch them, something that I have done too many times to count. Fascinating how something so common to me is extraordinary to her.

"I see why they call you 'demon'. I don't understand though. If you are a demon, then why haven't you killed me yet?"

"Because, girl, I am no demon. I was once like you. I had a family. I was able to walk into a tavern without someone spitting at me. I was human."

"You . . . You used to be normal?" I cringe at the word "normal". "Forgive me. Why don't you like that word?"

"I will tell you. But first you must tell me something."

"What is that?" She says reluctantly. I chuckle again.

"Your name."