Killing Him Softly
In hindsight, what I did was absolutely nuts. Some wave must have rolled over me, making me act the way I did, completely out of my norm. Usually when I want something, subtle hints and manipulations do the trick, but in this case, straight out demands (and commands) seemed to work.
Zillah was consumed completely by this stupid demon that thought it fun to chase me around Paris and try to kill me. Yeah, imagine that, the love of your life --- possessed by a demon, in the same body that you know so well -- hunting and stalking you, ready to rip your guts out and feed them to the birds, or eat them himself. Who knows? I was scared shitless, hiding in other people's chateaus, in crowded streets, yet the bastard kept finding me. But like all horror movies when the main character is running from the badguy (upstairs nonetheless *eyeroll*) he finally confronted me back at the Rhyme and lunged at me like a madman. His strength was noticeably more enhanced as he wrapped his cold hands around my throat, but I managed to shove him off and cast a quick binding spell. Seething and trying to writhe out of the magic's grip, he cursed me. Funny how after the means he had gone through the past few weeks to become stronger that a lowly spell was able to keep him still and under my power, so I took advantage while I had the courage. The tables had turned and whatever fear I had dissipated as he lay there helpless.
"Demon, you aren't here to kill me," I sneered, "You're here to kill Imri." Maybe I could talk sense into him, maybe just enough of my Zillah was inside this scarred body to see the truth of what was happening.
He snorted back, "I do what I want, that business doesn't concern me."
I put my bare foot on his chest, right on top of his still-opened autopsy scar, pressing slight weight on it to let him know I was in charge. "Oh no, Demon, it is your business. That's why you were brought here. You owe this mission to this body, the one you stole from me."
"I don't owe this body shit!" he spat.
"Oh yeah?" I said casually. I pressed more weight on the ragged scar, starting to wiggle my toes into the slit and pulling it open further. Black ooze filled his chest and squished between my toes. It was probably the grossest thing I have ever done, but I hid my disgust, trying to inflict enough pain on the demon to get my point across. He gasped and a small whimper escaped his lips. "No," he breathed. I'm not sure if the ""no" was an answer to my question or if he wanted me to stop, so I continued my threat.
"Now you do this, go kill Imri like you were put here to do, or I swear to whatever God is up there that I will put my whole fucking foot through your chest." With that, I dug my toes in deeper, feeling the ridged breastplate below the layer of slime on his chest. He screamed a loud, gutteral scream that I'm sure shook the neighbors.
I released my foot, stared down at him with a sneer and commanded him in my most serious voice, "Now go fucking do it."
Zillah was consumed completely by this stupid demon that thought it fun to chase me around Paris and try to kill me. Yeah, imagine that, the love of your life --- possessed by a demon, in the same body that you know so well -- hunting and stalking you, ready to rip your guts out and feed them to the birds, or eat them himself. Who knows? I was scared shitless, hiding in other people's chateaus, in crowded streets, yet the bastard kept finding me. But like all horror movies when the main character is running from the badguy (upstairs nonetheless *eyeroll*) he finally confronted me back at the Rhyme and lunged at me like a madman. His strength was noticeably more enhanced as he wrapped his cold hands around my throat, but I managed to shove him off and cast a quick binding spell. Seething and trying to writhe out of the magic's grip, he cursed me. Funny how after the means he had gone through the past few weeks to become stronger that a lowly spell was able to keep him still and under my power, so I took advantage while I had the courage. The tables had turned and whatever fear I had dissipated as he lay there helpless.
"Demon, you aren't here to kill me," I sneered, "You're here to kill Imri." Maybe I could talk sense into him, maybe just enough of my Zillah was inside this scarred body to see the truth of what was happening.
He snorted back, "I do what I want, that business doesn't concern me."
I put my bare foot on his chest, right on top of his still-opened autopsy scar, pressing slight weight on it to let him know I was in charge. "Oh no, Demon, it is your business. That's why you were brought here. You owe this mission to this body, the one you stole from me."
"I don't owe this body shit!" he spat.
"Oh yeah?" I said casually. I pressed more weight on the ragged scar, starting to wiggle my toes into the slit and pulling it open further. Black ooze filled his chest and squished between my toes. It was probably the grossest thing I have ever done, but I hid my disgust, trying to inflict enough pain on the demon to get my point across. He gasped and a small whimper escaped his lips. "No," he breathed. I'm not sure if the ""no" was an answer to my question or if he wanted me to stop, so I continued my threat.
"Now you do this, go kill Imri like you were put here to do, or I swear to whatever God is up there that I will put my whole fucking foot through your chest." With that, I dug my toes in deeper, feeling the ridged breastplate below the layer of slime on his chest. He screamed a loud, gutteral scream that I'm sure shook the neighbors.
I released my foot, stared down at him with a sneer and commanded him in my most serious voice, "Now go fucking do it."
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