Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Sixty-One

Abandoning the wall she leant on, Raven found her way out of the dead end, reentering society as she wound up in the kitchen. Walking in on seemingly causal conversation between the black-haired cat lady and the blonde, Raven greeted them with a small wave and slight smile.

"Heya!", Harleen grinned. "Watchya doin missy demon?"

Knowing she meant nothing offensive by it, Raven filled up the kettle with tap water, responding with a shrug, "Nothing. I'm quite bored actually, looking for something to do."

Setting her mug down, Selina clipped a short, rebelling strand of hair down, inviting, "Why don't you sit with us? It'd save you from walking about aimlessly."

Chewing the inside of her lip, Raven plopped a teabag in a mug, poured in the boiled water, then a splash of milk before stirring it all and throwing out the teabag: today was a milky tea day. Gingerly takin a seat around the kitchen island, opposite the two anti-heroes, Raven set her mug down.

"Why're you sitting opposite us?", Selina tilted her head.

Forehead creasing at the question, Raven frowned, speaking slowly, "I guess...I like seeing who I'm speaking to. If that makes sense. To see their...meaning...in their posture...expressions. To know what's in their eyes if they speak to me.", her amethyst orbs locked on to Selina's. "Somewhat analytical."

The blonde took a discomforting slurp of her sugary tea.

Still holding her mug, Harley cocked her head at the demoness, her face unreadable but her emotions telling all, "Why'd ya need ta analyse us? What're ya runnin' from?"

Had she not been an empath, Raven would have been none the wiser to the ex-villain's ulterior motives and simply put off by the sudden professionalism in her tone. However, Raven Roth was an empath, and a powerful one at that, she sensed not only Harley's burning curiosity, but also her willingness to disgruntle and upset the demoness. It might have been involuntary- Azar knew, the woman made a habit of attacking others in that way- but it stung any way.

Her questions brought Raven far back, resurfaced memories she begged to stay buried in the darkest corners of her mind. That question egged on the creature's chained at the back of her mind, creatures that loved to roar and howl and screech when Raven was weak. Yet, she would subdue those creatures. Beat them down and drown them in her resistance. Stifle them and strangle them until they quietened. Harley would not wake them up now, there was no way Raven would allow that.

Attempting to ease amiability in to her voice, Raven spoke.

"I run from nothing. I ran from much. I avoid so much more.", she smiled without humour. "Does that answer your questions?"

Selina's eyes flicked between the two, not sure what to make of the exchange.

Cracking the icy mood, a great beam broke out of Harleen's face as she said, "D'ya know, I like you. There's somethin' mean in there,", she poked a finger in Raven's direction, "but a lotta badass. Real interestin'."

Nodding her thanks, Raven raised the mug to her lips, taking a lengthy sip of tea. It certainly was a milky tea day indeed.

***

"YOU WOULD DEFY ME SO?!", the voice shattered through her eardrums, but still she didn't raise her head, kneeling with her head to her raised knee- just as the others besides her did.

"DO YOU NOT FEAR PUNISHMENT LITTLE GIRL?!"

This time, the rage she inherited from him would not be contained, and she lifted her head, grinding out in her jarringly youthful, twinkling tones, "I care not for myself."

The ungodliness incarnate, seated on a throne of skulls and bones and human despair, stared down at its creation, at the innocence he had beaten and forced in to a vessel of ruthless bloodthirstiness. And she would yet be moulded as he saw fit and wielded as his greatest sword and strongest shield. So small. A child. But the greatest battery of all, and she would channel that energy as he saw fit.

She knew he would stamp the disobedience out of her. And if stamping did not work, he would continue to whip it and train it and stab it out of her until nothing existed but a shell of a demonoid with nothing save carnality guiding her actions. There was no escaping such a fate.

As she covered the fear that flooded the veins of her being with stubbornness, the child knew that nothing would stop the oncoming punishment, so she had best pray to the gods- to any that would listen. Even as her tiny lips moved in a flurry of silent begs and pleas and water streamed from her eyes like dew falling from the petals of a violet, she knew hope didn't exist. Not in this world.

Yet she tried. Each rivulet of saltiness trickling over her cheeks, hitting the stone in a dreadful pattern of misery, confirmed her sentence. The gods would not listen. Azar would not hear her. Why would anyone bless an abomination?

Who she cried for was a long list. Herself. The mother she wished had cared. The souls she killed. Those she prayed would survive. 'Azar be merciful. Please. Please. Please.'

Metal ground on stone floor and tears fell twofold. The blade was coming. Like a snake closing in on its prey, ready to strike, the blade awaited her. How would it's sting feel? This would not be like the other cuts, it would go straight through. Dying would hurt. Dying would hurt so much, Azarath...dear Azarath she didn't want to die. No, no, no. She didn't want the pain either. Is death merciful, or is it eternal pain?

The tears fell and fell and fell.

Splash. Splash. Splash.

And the metal stopped dragging on the floor, but no blade met her skin. Instead, a rough hand gripped her forearm, angry red. And a rougher voice ordered her as it had done a thousand times before.

"Unveil them."

"No!", she screamed at once, "PLEASE! No! Don't! Please, please, please! I beg of you, I'll do anything, don't!"

But the creature's touch held great power, and before she could do anything other than cry for all she was worth, a spine-shredding pain tore through her back. Gritting her teeth against the pain, the girl fell entirely to the ground, hands beating at the unresponsive stone.

She felt them unfurling, spreading proudly above her, and she wished she could shove them away, hide each feather in the furthest corner of the universe and bury the sinew and bones below even Tartarus. But she knew that wasn't possible.

"Here,", the throne-sitter boomed, "is your punishment."

The blade met the joining of the great, feathery masses and her back in a great hacking motion, and the girl screamed to the skies and the heavens and the gods for release. The blade kept going, kept sawing, and the angels heard her screeching pleads. But the angels and the gods an the heavenly creatures did nothing. The little girl continued to cry until no more tears would come and there was no voice left in her being.

Then she heard a dreaded sound. One she had only heard once before in her life, the first moments of her birth. A horrific, scarring, wailing cacophony of godly remorse.

The angels cried.

***
With a single scream, Raven slammed out of sleep. Glass cutting in to her cheek as the bedroom window shattered.
***

A.N

So, that was quite an alright chapter, no?

Well my darlings, I hope you liked that- I know that last part tugged on a few heartstrings, sorry about that. Now I'd just like to notify you that I'll be updating earlier than usual next time because.... in 2 or 3 days it will have been a whole year since I started writing this book!

Can you believe it?! I certainly can't!

But I'll say more about that next time!

Thanks

-Bats :3