THE HAUNTING OF THE DEMONIC
upon the annual event of halloween, many mortals use this day to try their luck with communicating with the unknown, for the belief of the boundaries between the living and the dead have become blurred and therefore make it easier to speak with those who haunt the lands.
Demons will soon awaken to their powers being heavily strengthened, their behaviours uncontrollable and in a lot of anguish. Whilst this is a regular occurrence, it is one that requires much preparation to ensure the safety of a demon as well as those around them.
It is common for many to return to the infernal realm, but others do not choose to do so and instead hide away in different realms. This is where risks are at their highest, for an encounter with a demon undergoing this may be disastrous.
Depending on the strength or amount of souls accumulated for a demon, this will have differing effects. Those with less may not experience the same temperament as those with more, and therefore it may be easier to communicate with them.
For those with a large amount at their disposal, it is difficult to pinpoint just how they will react. They become highly unpredictable and are known to be heavily violent, no form of remorse in their actions and little recollection after.
So far, the following have been documented:
Lack of control of magic and personal behaviours.
Inability to understand and communicate with others.
Bloodlust.
Inability to maintain form.
Intense urge for sexual contact, often resulting in dangerous acts.
Immune system weakens, welcoming sickness and disease.
It is of upmost importance that one is careful of their interactions on this day, especially if you wish to survive.
The Infernal Realm didn’t have much within. What was once an endless void shaped into a bleak plane of existence, a prison for the souls who were damned and were sent for suffering. A punishment for committing evil when alive; indulging in sin; doing just about anything that the Celestial Realm would frown upon.
And yet, to many, it was home.
Like other realms, it still held life. Souls, sinners, demons, creatures. To each of these, they found home within this realm. And despite all the torment, all the suffering, they still managed to make it into a home.
They were able to create areas where demons could socialise within. They were able to create residencies for many. They were able to create memorial grounds for those who no longer existed. All in all, despite everything, it was still a world where beings could try and thrive within. Xinalith was one of them.
Here, it was home. Here, it was where they could safely reside within their manor, surrounded by their many imps and just worked or lounged around it. Here, it was the easiest way for them to recover if they got into a spout of trouble on Earth, either through their own mischievous deeds or something else entirely.
On top of that, it was just where they belonged. Regardless of how they viewed themselves, it was still a big part of who they were. Figuratively and literally. Being an organic demon, a small piece of the realm’s patterns could be detected within their core. It was who they were.
And here they were, alongside Life, Death, Pax and this ‘Zyl’ soul, watching it crumble.
When the first few pieces fell, they simply froze. As larger chunks descended, despair impaled them and twisted each time another, and another, and another fell. They almost felt their limbs lock into place, unable to move away from the scene.
Voices around them were muffled. They couldn’t make out what was being said, what was currently happening. The air felt cold, freezing even, as if they themselves had died alongside the realm. Their eyes burned with tears that just refused to fall, or from the light that was starting to peek up over the horizon. A reminder that no matter what happened, no matter how detrimental it was to you, life would keep going. That something you once viewed as big and spectacular was actually insignificant and small enough for everywhere else to keep going.
Even with Death beside them, not moving to join whatever was happening, they felt lonely. Never had they felt more isolated than now. Now, there was no one that could even relate to the sheer amount of pain they were feeling. They didn’t know what other demons were still alive; where they were; if they knew or cared about what happened. They didn’t know where their little imps were, if they were okay. Hells, even the other creatures, they didn’t know anything about.
To them, they were all gone.
Then there was Lucifer.
Had their ultimate goal just shattered right then and there? Had the very reason that kept them going, that allowed them to push themselves, just disappeared? Just like that? No warning, no nothing. If so, then what was truly the point in continuing? If one argued freedom, it felt cheap. Undeserving. They didn’t acquire it themselves, someone else did. Someone that wasn’t them. Someone that had no true reason behind their actions other than just mere ‘duties’ to fulfill, something that logically made sense but emotionally broke them.
Everything they had worked for, everything they were working for, was all for nothing.
When everything was silent, Death whispered in their ear, slowly guiding them in another direction away from the view. They didn’t register what it was, and nor did they care to know.
Xinalith’s eyes finally fell onto Moon.
She was unconscious, but alive. She survived Lucifer. She… She won. Did she win? Is that why she was here, why Lucifer wasn’t, and why their realm had collapsed?
Their throat went dry. Constricted, even. A large lump formed.
Moon took it all. Moon did this. Moon accomplished their goal. Moon destroyed their home. Moon. Moon. Moon.
It was the only thing that made sense to them. She did this to them. All for some duty. There was no other drive. No other reason. She didn’t suffer Lucifer’s torments for this desired result.
As Xinalith continued to stare, the two of them and Pax now returning to her realm for salvation once more, they felt themselves grow numb.
Maybe in the past, they’d want to kill her. But even if they did, what would it be all for? It was pointless.
All of this was pointless. Maybe it always has been to begin with.
for what does it take to become something you hate?
in which xinalith's downfall originates.
warnings: implied sexual content. implied abuse. mental collapse. mentions of alcohol and drugs.
word count: 2.7k. not proof-read.
Sat down in a ball, arms wrapped around their knees, Xinalith quietly sniffled.
Pain. Pain was all they could feel. Scorch marks dotted along their skin; clawed indents fresh and bleeding; throat raw from the endless screaming that had been torn from them. Within their mind, countless whispers of torment began their haunting, reminding them that they’re merely nothing but a worthless entity born for despair. The cries and screams that they heard from around them lingered within their head, piercing their eardrums to an extent that one couldn’t even fathom. Xinalith couldn’t understand what they had done to warrant such a punishment.
Did they look at someone wrong? Did they say the wrong thing? Did they go somewhere they shouldn’t have gone?
They couldn’t figure it out. They weren’t able to. Even if asked, they feared it would simply bring back the torture.
“Little Xinalith,” a voice called out to them. Familiarity; patience; gentleness. They knew who this was, and yet they still couldn’t bring themselves to move an inch. Instead, they simply held onto themselves tighter, burying their face into the balls of their knees.
Silence fell then for a short while. The being still stood close by, the quiet humming of their form taking shape filling the gaps of quiet. Eventually, they crouched down, the chilling touch of their skeletal hands offering a cooling sensation to Xinalith’s body.
That seemed to urge the tiny demon to talk.
“Why?”
It was a simple question, yet a heavy one also. Death simply continued to watch them before softly humming.
“Because you are a demon, little one.”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“You do not have to. You simply exist. That, in the eyes of His Lordship, is punishable enough.”
Existence. Something that they had no control over, yet were still punished for. To be who you are, to simply breathe in a land consumed by evil, and remain threatened by the agony that would eventually reach you was terrifying for a demon who still didn’t know what they were. Their identity was still unknown to them; the worlds around them were still an enigma; and yet, all they knew was that whatever they were, whoever they could be, was something worth harming. Something to push onto the edge of destruction and death.
“I don’t want to be a demon then, if all it brings me is pain.”
Death remained quiet at their breathless words. It seemed like this was not the first instance they had heard of an infernal being already despising their mere existence.
Eventually, they stood back up, their hand now moving to rest atop of Xinalith’s head. The demon had taken the form of a young male. Small and fragile enough to suffer dreadfully in this realm. Small and innocent enough to run freely amongst others. Such a shame this is how they ended up.
“You will grow strong enough to withstand the pain,” they quietly spoke, removing their hand from them. “Whether you choose to enjoy your own presence, that is something you will have to figure out yourself.”
Xinalith finally looked up at Death then, their eyes reddened from tears.
“And if I don’t?”
Death glanced back down at them.
“Then may my own existence be the peace you desire.”
Summonings after summonings after summonings.
Requests for power. Requests for love. Requests for money. Requests, requests, requests.
Deals made. Souls claimed. Lives deducted. All for power, and power, and more power.
Xinalith stared at their reflection in a broken mirror as they wandered around Earth, expression dull and lifeless. Their cheeks hurt from maintaining a hollow smile, all for the goal to appease the simplicities of the human mind. Smile, greet them politely, offer them exactly what they want, repeat. An endless cycle for a demon like them, one that now has learned that their own way of living is to taint the souls of the helpless. Manipulate them, make them believe that you are their last light of hope, and then plummet them into endless darkness once death comes for them.
Seeing other beings like themselves enjoy such a feat made something inside them twist. How could you truly enjoy something so boring and mundane? Doing the same thing over and over again, purely to just live a miserable life in the Infernal Realm? There had to be more to this. This couldn’t be all that was available to them.
Xinalith clicked their tongue then before leaving where they stood, deciding to walk a little further down the alleyway they had found. It wouldn’t be until they heard muffled sounds of music that they’d stop, head slowly turning in the direction of the source.
Warm lights separated themselves from the darkness, humans stumbling out whilst laughing loudly, arms wrapped around another who matched their energy. A few others stood outside smoking and conversing with their own group, holding a can of something in their other hand. They even spotted a couple in the narrow alley beside this building, hands moving over bodies and lips pressed hastily against the other.
The demon stared at this sight for a moment, brow raised in curiosity, before they fell victim to it. They could sense such a heavy fluctuation of sin here; lust, greed, gluttony. Whether that was what was pulling them towards this place, or whether it was interest for what enjoyment this seemed to bring to humans, Xinalith wouldn’t know. But Hells to it, they were going to investigate.
And investigate they did.
When they got inside, everything was just overwhelming. Loud music; the scent of sweat and alcohol; the occasional waft of drugs. It was a bit of a sensory overload for them, but they continued on. Weaving through crowds of dancing mortals, the clanging of glasses only heard during brief pauses in the music, Xinalith didn’t really know where to even start. It was so much all at once, and yet they were drawn deeper and deeper within the crowds. Individuals would press up against them drunkenly, dancing beside them as some form of encouragement for them, whilst others would either bump into them or try to strike a conversation with them. If they were anywhere else, they were sure to stick out like a sore thumb, but here they seemed to blend in seamlessly.
That was probably due to many people here being intoxicated, however.
After a short while, they started to grow a bit more confident with this new area. Soon enough, the demon found themselves completely mixing in with the crowd, dancing along with other mortals or trying out alcoholic beverages. Sure, they’d certainly regret it in the next few hours, but for now, they would simply live in the moment.
And my, how exciting it was for them.
Drinks kept pouring; music kept pounding; conversations kept going. At one point, they even found themselves in one of the bathroom stalls, a male similar to their vessel’s age slowly dropping to their knees, lust swirling in their drunken haze. If they were elsewhere, Xinalith would’ve immediately stopped them, however they appeared to be just as intoxicated so simply allowed it to happen.
Xinalith couldn’t help but chuckle to themselves drunkenly, their body slumping against the wall.
Humans were such fun creatures. What point did deals bring them if they could be enjoying themselves like mortals did?
“If you had any other power, what would you have?”
Xinalith raised a brow towards Victor, the pair seated on a park bench in the cool night. Their expression dropped into that of bewilderment, before they rolled their eyes.
“I’m a demon. Any power I want, I can get.”
Victor laughed lightly, shaking his head.
“Humour me for a moment. If you didn’t have magic, what would you choose?” He’d reword, leaning back against the bench before gazing off at the view before them. Truthfully, there wasn’t much to look at, just gates and endless grass. Regardless, it was peaceful out here, the soft buzzing of the lamppost above them and the gentle song of the wind breezing by. “Personally, I’d go for the ability to fly.”
Xinalith scoffed, folding their arms. “Out of everything, you’d choose the power to fly? How boring.”
“You still haven’t answered.”
“Shapeshifting.”
“You’re a demon. That’s boring.”
“You told me to humour you, did you not?”
Victor let out another laugh then. Seriously, this human laughed at anything and everything that came out of Xinalith’s mouth. “I suppose I did.”
Huffing, Xinalith nudged him. “Explain your reasoning, then.”
Victor just sighed at their urge, before they glanced back at the view before them. Nothing but darkness, shadows of trees merely capturing a hint of what was beyond the bleakness. There wasn’t much of interest for Xinalith to look at here, so their eyes remained on the human beside them.
“To be able to fly requires the need for wings. What more can wings bring than freedom?” His gaze then moved to the sky above, watching the stars gently twinkle as they offered a hint of light. A moment of hope.
“Freedom to do as I want. Freedom to achieve my dreams. Freedom to learn anything I so desire, no longer constrained by what has come over me. On top of that, the adrenaline to fall from the highest tops and know that I will survive at the end of it all. That’s what the power of flight would offer me.”
Xinalith just stared at Victor for a few moments before they let out their own laugh.
“That sounds corny as shit.”
“What? Can a person not have their own perception of power?”
Xinalith shook their head. “When you asked me what power I’d have, I thought you meant literally. Not some metaphorical nonsense.”
“And I absolutely did! I just enjoy looking deeper into things. For example, you’d want to shapeshift. To me, that’s a way for you to escape what you truly are and to become someone else, yes? That ability to become whatever you want, whenever you want.”
The demon fell silent then, their eyes slowly widening as this mortal seemed to perfectly capture just what they wanted. To become something they’re not. To take the form of someone else and live out that life instead. They continued to look at Victor before they clicked their tongue, now turning their face away.
“You’re an idiotic fool, Victor.”
Victor chuckled, now being the one to lightly nudge Xinalith.
“So you tell me daily, dear friend.”
Rituals. Rituals. Rituals.
Deals. Deals. Deals.
Power. Power. Power.
‘We want this.’ ‘We want that.’ ‘We need this.’ ‘We need you.’
For a moment with Victor, everything was peaceful. They weren’t expected of anything else other than companionship. To simply be in their company, that’s all they wanted. Of course, Xinalith wouldn’t take this bond too much to heart, for it was still forged by a deal and not pure interest, but it was the closest thing they could get to understanding what a simple, peaceful life was like. To have hopes; to have desires; to have dreams and the drive to achieve them.
Fun. Excitement. Laughter. Joy.
Pure, simple joy.
Xinalith, coated in blood and sweat, new claw marks and bites littering their marred flesh, appeared in the space between the Celestial and Infernal realm. Death’s domain. An area that this entity had granted them should they need a moment to brief, what once was a blessing now turning into an isolated spot for mental spiral.
And all they did was scream.
Their throat was already sore from crying out in pain, but this time, rage wove itself through the sound. Infernal rage, demonic anger, their red irises shrinking as they stared at the nothingness around them.
Suddenly, the sounds of snapping would be heard, random things appearing just for the demon to destroy. Objects, dummies, imps, whatever it was, Xinalith would tear apart. They continued this until they fell to the ground, heaving from exhaustion and pain washing over their body.
Soon enough, most likely due to the disruption of peace within, Death manifested. Yet, they did not say anything. They just stared at the mess surrounding the demon, the droplets of blood that would vaporise into nothingness, the domain cleaning itself from whatever destruction Xinalith had tried to create. After all, this wasn’t a spot to try and destroy. It was an empty void of isolation.
An isolating loneliness that would sometimes offer peace to oneself.
“Demons,” Xinalith spoke then, a breathless chuckle falling from their lips as they slowly pushed themselves up. “Demons are beings who are meant to destroy, cause chaos and spread despair amongst mortals.”
Death took their gaze away from the fading clutter, placing their attention on Xinalith instead.
“They’re not meant for anything else. Not to live a life they so desire. Not to simply exist under Lucifer’s gaze. No; we’re merely his toys. Punching bags for his anger that should be directed towards the angels above. Pawns for his shitty little game that he calls his kingdom. A foolish attempt of being something he is not; a God.”
Xinalith turned their head then, staring directly at Death. They didn’t even give them a chance to speak before they continued.
“Gods may destroy, but at least they carry reason. Lucifer’s reason is entertainment. Nothing else could possibly justify how he treats those he calls his subjects. His creations. His precious pets. It was he who brought the idea of demonic beings to the mortal realms, yet he is the one that despises us as such?! Was it not Lucifer who made it a possibility for me to even be born?! Was he not the reason that the seed was planted, allowing mortals to simply nurture it with their own sin?!”
They scoffed then, straightening themselves up as they ran their hands through their matted hair. Specks of dried blood and sulfur fell from the strands, landing either on the ground or remained clinging onto their palms.
“I fucking despise being this. A creature whose only chance at freedom is to be forgotten. The chance to grow wings when my time comes won’t even grant me said freedom, but will instead be a constant reminder of what I am. There will never be an opportunity for me to be something else, will there? To live another life as something else; as someone else?”
Death was silent.
“Will there?!” Xinalith spat, voice raised and breaking.
“No,” Death responded, their tone patient. “This is the only life you will live, Xinalith. Demons do not and will not reincarnate.”
A pitiful laugh fell from them then, which only grew more and more barbaric. They were losing their minds. That much was enough.
Another demon lost to their despair.
“Very well then,” they said quietly, the smile formed as a result of laughing remaining plastered on their face. “If a demon is what I am to be, then I will ensure Lucifer regrets creating such a species.”
Now, this was different. Death tilted their head at them.
“What do you plan on doing?”
“To usurp Lucifer.”
Yes. Very different.
“That is quite a goal.”
“A goal that I will achieve.”
“Lucifer has ruled for thousands of years. He is the strongest being here for he is an Angel. He will always be stronger than you.”
“Then I’ll simply become stronger.”
“And how do you plan on going about that, hm? Continue to make deals?”
Xinalith laughed again.
“By reminding him just exactly what it means to be a demon. And why all beings hate us so much.”
They look back at Death then, their eyes seeming to dim. The life that they once had, gone. The inkling of hope to being something more, vanished. Instead, swirling in those crimsons was pure rage. An anger that melded with a newfound determination.
“I will be the one to tear those wings off and laugh when he falls once more.”
Death remained quiet once more. They simply watched Xinalith, analysing them carefully.
Inside, that fearful demon from many years ago remained. The little demon who cried from pain, who felt despair for who they were, now carrying that ever growing hatred for their own being and utilising it as a weapon. It was certainly an outcome that this entity hadn’t expected.
With that, they just hummed.
“Very well, Xinalith. I’m interested to see just how far you’ll go.”
How far can one soar before they eventually collapse?
takes place after the infernal realm collapses &. lucifer kills them. see here and here.
where xinalith meets someone unexpected and is left confused.
word count: 1.4k. not proof read. even i don't know what i wrote but i tried. (it's 1am leave me be)
warnings: character death.
For the first time in Xinalith’s existence, time froze.
Pain. An endless cycle of pain could be felt all at once, the spikes impaling them all heavy with raw light magic. But it wouldn’t be anything like the angel’s that they had faced off with or when Moon shoved their face into a veil of light.
It would be suffocating; binding; scorching; hellish. For a being originating from a realm full of purity, this sort of agony would be anything but. Even the years of endless torture couldn’t compare to how Xinalith felt. To add onto that, the fear of dying that they had managed to suppress all of these years resurfaced, the reality of what was happening making their life flash before their eyes. Terror. Endless terror, a heart wrenching anxiety that could have either been the light magic already poisoning their core or just the after-effects of what fear could do to an individual.
Lucifer’s power was on a whole other level. One that if they had encountered years and years ago, they wouldn’t have even bothered with their goal. A single touch of his light magic would’ve been enough to kill Xinalith. But it seemed that the almighty being had a twisted agenda, forcing the demon into a state that doubled as a threat.
When the spikes retracted, they didn’t even have the strength to hold themselves up. They just plummeted to the ground, their entire body borderline lifeless. The only thing they could remember before they eventually fell into that bleak void was warmth lifting them up one last time.
Xinalith would find themselves alone once more, their body lying on the ground in this vast emptiness. Struggling, the demon would push themselves up, swearing to themselves that the pain continued to linger. Which was strange, because even in death, shouldn’t they be free of this?
They pouted. ‘May peace find you in my existence’, their ass.
Regardless, they just sighed, slipping their hands into their pockets before they started to walk forward. They had nothing better to do, so they may as well get used to this new spot they’ve found themselves in. Which had absolutely nothing to offer them. Seriously, why were they craving this if this was all that was available to them?
Mentally complaining to themselves, their thoughts would soon halt once they saw a figure far in the distance. If it weren’t for this strange being, they wouldn’t have even realised just how foggy this area was. They squinted their eyes, trying to get a better view, before they just continued onwards. Only this time, their slow pace would gradually increase, eventually falling into a light jog. For whatever reason, they felt like they needed to catch up with this stranger, as if their mere presence alone would be enough to satiate the growing loneliness within.
As they got closer and closer, the figure growing clearer as they did, they soon stopped. Their lips parted at the sight, eyes widening.
Before them, Victor stood. Not just the vessel they had used for a few hundred years, but the very Victor that they had struck a deal with. He stood there, those brown eyes meeting their surprised gaze with that gentle smile on his face, one that they could never truly replicate in all their years. But this time, he looked visibly healthier. His skin was much brighter, his eyes slightly creased from smiling often, and his cheeks seemed to have more colour in them than ever before. Closing his eyes as his smile widened, Victor spoke softly.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
Xinalith just stayed silent, their lower lip trembling. How could they tell him that no, they never found it? That in the midst of trying, they ended up failing and died a weakling? That one, singular blow from Lucifer’s wrath was enough to bring them here?
They swallowed whatever lump was starting to form in their throat, only to shake their head.
“No,” was all that came out. Victor opened his eyes then, examining the demon, before he hummed.
“Are you sure?”
Xinalith’s eyes narrowed on him, their lower lip jutting out.
“Are you stupid? Of course not. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Victor just laughed lightly, shaking his head slowly.
“No. I think this time around, it’s you who’s stupid.”
The demon seemed to have pulled a face that only made Victor chuckle, causing him to raise his hand up to stop them from responding.
“Think again, Xinalith. Then I’ll ask again. Did you find what you were looking for?”
Puzzled, Xinalith stared at Victor for a few moments. What he was saying was making no sense to them. If they were free, they wouldn’t have locked themselves in a deal. If they were free, they would’ve usurped Lucifer by now. If they were free, they would’ve appreciated being a demon more.
“I don’t get it,” they just responded. “All I want is to be free. How can my circumstances possibly lead me into finding that?”
Victor hummed again, chuckling.
“Because it was you, this time, who made those choices. No one else.”
Xinalith fell silent then, their brows slowly knitting together before they soon relaxed.
“You were the one who decided to strike a deal with Death, were you not? You were the one who embarked on this very journey to achieve exactly what you wanted, no? You were also the one who defied their own laws, simply because you wanted to, just so you could thoroughly enjoy yourself. Even with the consequences a demon faces, you still chose to go through with it.”
The demon just continued to look at Victor, their lips parting once more before they closed.
“All of these choices, whilst they may not even reflect your perception of freedom, are ones that will allow you to reach the very pinnacle of freedom that you have failed to think about. One that, truthfully, forgetting made you much weaker in the past. And that is one of acceptance.
“Accepting what you are, who you are, and still going forward. Understanding that even with these limitations you’ve thrusted upon yourself, you still utilise it to do as you wish. You even tested how far you could go and allowed yourself room to breathe, just so you could continue with your devilish ways more freely. You even earned the wings to prove that.”
Victor chuckled then, a hand gesture making them shrug their shoulders.
“I mean, you were never like that before. You were just bored all of the time. But now, you’re actually enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
If one were to pan a camera onto Xinalith’s features, it would be one of… complete bewilderment. Seriously, just what sort of nonsense was Victor spouting now?
“You’re talking straight out of your ass. What is this after-life bullshit?”
Victor couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, holding his stomach before sighing.
“See? Stupid. But I suppose in due time, you’ll eventually understand what I’m saying.”
Soon after, quiet whispers would be heard in the far distance, one familiar voice that seemed to be recounting a story of some sorts. Xinalith slowly tilted their head, wondering where that was coming from, before Victor just smiled once more and chuckled.
“I think our time is up now, Xinalith. Someone’s waiting for you. But think more on what I said.”
The demon looked back at Victor then, the whispering getting louder as he slowly started to fade. They wanted to reach out for a moment, let him speak a little longer, but they found themselves not moving. They just watched as Victor smiled at them, his mouth moving to speak one last time.
“And remember, you are and will continue to be one special demon, Xinalith. Soon enough, everyone will realise that.
"Someone already has.”
As Victor finally drifted away, the whispers grew louder and louder, until eventually, Xinalith gazed off towards the direction of where it was coming from. Whilst they still didn’t know what Victor was talking about, they would at least let one smile confirm something.
That they were, indeed, a special demon. No other was like them. Not even Lucifer understood just how special they were, for he underestimated that they refused to die by his hand.
And as they walked towards that voice, they realised that that was something to be proud of.
in which xinalith has one final request to fulfil before he can claim the vessel as his own.
word count: 1.9k
warnings: death implications. angst.
not proof-read. sorta involves unreciprocated love.
“I have one request for you when my time is up,” a lone man uttered quietly, ensuring that his words were heard only by the demon accompanying him. Xinalith turned their head towards him, red hues looking up and down at him before they huffed.
“You have asked for too much already,” they responded in a low voice, their expression fairly grim. It was a vast contrast to how they would normally portray themselves in the eyes of mortals, where they’d always carry a smirk or a smile on their features. However, with this man, they never did. Remain true to yourself was one wish he had placed within their deal.
This mortal was a strange one.
“Perhaps,” the man chuckled weakly, adjusting himself on the wheelchair before he coughed into a closed fist. It was a painful one this time, his hand resting on his chest as he gripped the armrest tightly. Xinalith simply watched it happen, eyes clouded with pure disinterest.
“But you have accepted them each and every time.” He eventually spoke, voice hoarser than usual.
“Only because the deal requires something I desire.”
“So you have said. Are you sure it isn’t just because you like me?”
Xinalith raised a brow then before scoffing. “Absolutely not. You are nothing but an asset to me, Victor. Stop delusioning yourself simply because you are desperate for companionship.”
Victor laughed then again. “Ouch. That stings a little.”
“Shut up already and tell me what you want.”
The man just raised his forearms weakly in silent protest, implying he was soon going to discuss things. His final wish as he neared his end, his body failing him at last.
Victor’s words would be hushed as he uttered his request, Xinalith’s brow raised in surprise at the simplicity of it. They’d turn their head towards him with a slight tilt, before offering a small smirk.
“You are putting a lot of trust in me for this. How do you know that I’ll go through with this?”
Victor hummed at their question, turning his gaze away from them to look out at the horizon, weary eyes squinted with a gentle smile.
“Because you are a true demon, Xinalith. One who honours their nature and duty. Going against this after you agreed would be going against who you are.”
Xinalith merely blinked at this response, their expression morphing into that of surprise. Red hues flickered over the side of Victor’s face for a long moment before they closed their own eyes, chuckling lowly.
“You are the strangest mortal I have met, Victor.”
It was a warm afternoon, the spring breeze teasing the approaching summer months as they kissed the bare skin of none other than Victor. A bouquet of flowers clutched under his arm, an indescribable bounce in his step with eager hands straightening his cravat.
As the birds whistled their midday melodies, Victor would join in with his own quiet humming, one hand slipping into the pockets of his smart trousers whilst he swiftly caught the flowers in his hands. It was incredible just what a little bit of sunshine could do to someone, how it could lift one’s mood and bring energy to one’s body. With a long and deep breath, the fresh air would fill his lungs and grant a pleasant smile on his face.
Walking along the dirt path, he’d eventually reach his destination. A meeting place, in which he had delivered himself in cursive, within a remote and natural area once special to him. The very spot that he and his wife had their first date at; the spot where 5 years ago, he had gone down on one knee and proposed. It was a spot surrounded by beautiful memories, a place that he’d vow to be buried at in due time.
Victor’s eyes locked onto the back of a feminine figure, who’s brown hair trailed down her back in luscious curls and complimented her crimson dress, the flowers woven in her sunhat gently dancing with the breeze. Victor took a moment to take in the sight, fingers tightening around the bouquet before he took that necessary step forward.
“Emily,” his low voice called out to her, noticing how she stiffened at the sound of her name coming from his lips. Slowly, he watched her turn around, her delicate facial features falling into an expression of surprise, glossy greens meeting with his.
Hesitantly, she moved. Small steps, almost trembling with nerves, as her chest quickly rose and fell with each shaky breath. As she grew closer and closer, her hand would begin to reach out towards him, soft and gentle hands desperate to touch him. In turn, Victor would grant this silent wish, extending his own to intertwine fingers and draw her even closer. He’d watch with quiet curiosity as she examined him, another hand reaching up to gently cup his face.
She gazed into his eyes for a long moment, brows furrowing before they relaxed, allowing tears to surface.
“Victor,” Emily whispered, dark lashes lowering to try and bat away the tears. “Please tell me this is you.”
Victor would stare at Emily for a moment, soft rubies locking with her emeralds, before he nodded. Turning his head towards the hand placed on his cheek, he’d plant a soft kiss against her wrist, letting go of her hand to place his over hers.
“Yes,” he responded just as quietly. “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to see you again, darling.”
At this moment, it would only be them. No narration could truly describe the intimacy of this reunion, and nor should they. Where two hearts reunite after years of not seeing one another, all due to a wretched disease that would consume another life. Hushed whispers explaining how she had prayed to the Lord for this very moment would be repeated, and all Victor could do was simply smile at her. Emily told him all that she had done. She said how their closest friends had now gotten married, and they were now expecting a child. She shared how a family member had recently passed to the same disease he had, complimenting the beauty of the funeral to send her off to the Heavens. She joked about how their pet dog had grown accustomed to him not being around anymore, taking his armchair as her own instead.
And once again, even with such pleasant tales shared, Victor could only smile and nod.
“Emily,” Victor would begin at one moment, one arm wrapped around her waist as they walked, the other hand sitting in his pocket once more. When her name was uttered from his lips, he would stop this peaceful walk, sliding his arm from her to instead hold her hand once more. The lady would turn to gaze at him, once more staring into those reds before she turned to face him properly. A sign that her attention was all on him, quietly urging him to speak.
He would be silent at first, his thumb tracing over her soft skin as if trying to calm his nerves, before he spoke.
“Today will be the last time I see you.”
The smile on Emily’s face fell.
“Sorry?” She’d speak, her voice trying its best not to break from the growing emotion in her throat. “What do you mean… But you are here. You could barely move last time I saw you, so surely you have recovered, yes?”
Victor shook his head slowly, his smile still plastered on his face.
“No. I wish that were the case, darling. But it simply isn’t. I have managed to push myself just to find you today. To hold you and listen to your voice one last time before it all comes to an end.” His voice was gentle and careful, trying to do his best to talk about the matter as delicately as he could.
Emily just stared up at him, and those tears from earlier came rushing back. Only this time, the dam had broken, and they instead came trailing down her rosy cheeks.
“You can’t,” her voice finally broke. “No, you can’t. The Lord, He… He brought you back to me today, to give us one last chance. For us to be together until we grow old and grey. You… You can’t go against this, Victor. You-”
“Sometimes, the Lord can only do so much,” Victor shook his head slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “This very moment we have shared is a miracle in itself. At the very least, He has blessed us with a few more hours together. And for that, I’m eternally grateful for.”
Emily just stared at him with disbelief, horror swirling in those green eyes of hers.
“But I… Victor, I cannot live my life without you. These 2 years were so painful and lonely and-”
“Of course you can, darling,” he’d interrupt, shushing her with a finger pressed against her lips. Victor would lean in then, pressing his forehead against hers, eyes fluttering closed as their breaths mingled with one another.
“You are a strong woman. The strongest I know, even. You have done so well without me already, and you have the stories to prove it. Even without me by your side, you continued to move forward and to keep waking up each day for those around you. To simply live the life that the Lord has gifted you. And I know you can keep doing just that over the many years to come.”
Victor’s eyes slowly flickered open again, red eyes locked with hers as he continued.
“Let yourself move on, darling. Let yourself fall in love again, and to live the life you deserve. Let yourself be happy and keep your head high with each day that passes by. Soon enough, we will be reunited once more. I’ll be waiting for you, that much I can promise. Just do not let yourself wait whilst you still remain alive.”
Silence fell over them like a dark veil as his words lingered in the air like some sort of prayer of his own. As if he were begging the Lord above to let his precious wife live a blessed life regardless of where he was. To let her be happy, be content, be fulfilled once Death does come for her. After a while, and much hesitation, she nodded.
Victor’s shoulders relaxed then, his thumb running over her lower lip before he leaned in once more. This time, however, a long and soft kiss would be placed upon those lips of hers; a final goodbye between them both; a final declaration of his devotion to her. The kiss would last for a short while until they finally parted, Emily being the first one to take a step back and let their hands fall out of touch with one another.
Clutching the bouquet of flowers he had brought her from the beginning, they would share a few more private words with one another until she finally turned on her heel. Wiping her eyes with a handkerchief she pulled from her little bag, Emily would finally begin to leave. Victor would watch from where he was standing, waiting until she was some distance away, before disappearing himself.
Unbeknownst to Victor, Emily stopped walking for a moment to take one final look at her beloved husband. To at least give him one last wave before Death would take him and guide him to the Heavens.
But instead, she was met with emptiness.
Vastness, nature, and the lingering embers where he once stood.
When two demons fight, it is usually compared to two vicious animals battling it out for dominance. Territorial beings they were, even if the fight had nothing to do with territory or land to protect. Sometimes, it was just for sport. Other times, survival.
For Xinalith, it was a mixture of things. That need for revenge, however, dominated all rationale.
They didn't transform into their demon form for this. No, they wanted to watch Lucifer with their own eyes fall before them; they wanted to see the fear swirl in his eyes as he realises just what his creations can truly do; they wanted to mark this moment in their memory forever, one they could refer back to over and over again as the revel in that victory they craved for hundreds of years.
With nothing to stop them now, they were exhibiting as much strength as they possibly could. Fires roared near them both as their fighting destroyed the land near them; the Earth shook every so often just from the combination of both beings strength; remnants of infernal energy warmed the air even more, making the surroundings suffocating for those who reigned from Earth.
When was the last time they allowed themselves to truly exhibit wrath in their being? A demon carrying the sin of pride didn't often desire the adrenaline that came with onslaught, so it was something they never bothered with. Ever instance they found themselves when it came to fighting always had them holding back due to something. Boredom perhaps?
Xinalith panted at one point as their body trembled from exertion, blood from their vessel staining their flesh as they just continued to grin maliciously. Their limbs felt like static; their core felt electric; their mind felt intoxicated.
Lucifer was a worthy opponent. The master of infernal and celestial power. The ruler of their home. The face of pride. The indirect reason for their existence. And perhaps, at the rate they were currently going, the reason for their death. Even amidst the combat, Lucifer was still standing much stronger than them.
But that just stirred them on more.
No. Perhaps they were always holding back for this very moment.
in which a detailed recount of xinalith's birth is told.
1.2k words. not proofread. original character. slightly blunt ending, sorry.
warnings: death, violence, gore.
written by xinalith / satorangel. do not steal.
There are many fears that are shared amongst mankind. Disease, death, misfortune, betrayal. Some are more personal, often a result of a traumatic event or a ghastly sight. Others are unexplained, with no real foundation to hold the indescribable terror that something may bring, whether it be relating to insects or something so specific, it would be surprising for the body to react negatively to it. Fear is an emotion that expands beyond species, evident in animals and humans but can also be found in creatures dubbed in fantasy.
Another fear that many carry is that of the Unknown. Questions that remain unanswered. Wonders that have stories and legends linked to them, but cannot be proven to the eyes of billions. When one may claim for it to be true, another will shut it down. With evidence often scarce, it’s impossible to agree on what is real and what isn’t. Fantastical beasts, what lingers in the deepest oceans, how the universe came to be and how the supernatural even existed.
One of these unknowns would be that of infernal beasts; notably the demon, a phenomenon that many in modern day refuse to believe in, but find themselves enthralled when discussions are raised. After all, so much is unexplainable. How does one traverse into the mortal realm and sink their teeth into a certain object; how does something so powerful become trapped in a simple environment; can they truly grant wishes if met with an agreeable price, and how are there little limitations to what they can grant?
Most importantly, however, do they exist? In this tale, they do. And have done for thousands of years, all thanks to the power the human mind possesses. This story in particular follows a certain demon granted the name Xinalith and melded into who they are now. What once was a feral creature soon grew into a powerful being that holds the power of manipulation, terror and most importantly, chaos. This beginning tale, however, introduces them entirely.
Originating from the Infernal Realm—the name these creatures refer to as their home—Xinalith came into existence accidentally. With blinded want for knowledge and desperation motivating humanity, rituals would frequently be made in hopes of summoning the Devil Himself, but were left ignored. Nothing responded to them, and instead they were left with a waste of blood, candles and whatever form of sacrifice these individuals believed would bring Him over to the mortal realms. However, what they would never know was that their naive belief was actually creating something indescribable. The devotion that was thrusted into these rituals allowed the birth of Xinalith to manifest within the realms, who over time, was eventually growing into their form. Flames grew hotter and more violent, the whispers of these prayers and wants growing louder and louder, until eventually, they were born.
Howling into nothingness, fire scorching their flesh whilst the whispers turned into nonsensical screams, they were met with darkness. The inability to see, reflecting the blindness of these foolish humans, quickly growing agitated with just how loud everything was. It was too much for the newly born demon, so when finally being pulled towards the unfortunate group of mortals that begged for their presence, they ensured to make them know what true terror was.
It was a group of young adults acting foolish. Hiding away in the deepest parts of a forest, already rumoured to be overrun by spirits. They had conjured up a sacrificial circle and offered a live yet severely injured goat, as well as droplets of their blood from everyone involved. With a foul attempt of speaking infernal, in which they must’ve retrieved from the limited information regarding demonology at this moment in time, they would be the first to successfully summon Xinalith.
And what a sight it was.
The wind picked up violently; the fire from the candles ignored the breeze and instead grew stronger, ultimately destroying the wax that carried the initial flames and instead destroying the circle. The oranges and reds grew predominantly crimson, only to instantaneously get extinguished into a ghastly, black smoke.
As the wind attempted to blow away the smoke, in place stood a tall, sickly pale creature. With long, black flocks and equally pale horns curled at the top of their head, these humans would be offered a grotesque grin that extended to their cheek bones. Sharpened, fresh teeth, with a long, dark tongue that slipped out from between their long fangs and licked the flesh above their top lip. Clawed fingers twitched alongside the rest of their new body, as if it were trying to adjust to this form, a long, skeletal tail swaying from side to side as if trying to understand its bearings.
And then, the first scream erupted. Then the next.
So loud. It was so loud, and all Xinalith wanted to do was silence it.
With a loud, guttural sound, Xinalith would lower the top half of their body until they were on all fours, only to snap their neck towards the closest individual making such repulsive sounds. With a strong lunge from their legs, their claws sank cleanly into their first victim, teeth plunging into their flesh and pulling them apart as if they were some mere toy. The sounds dulled down momentarily, only to increase around them. It was too much, far too much, and they were determined to grant their own peace and quiet.
By the end of it all, only the sounds of liquid and meat would be heard in this part of the forest, Xinalith indulging in their lifeless bodies as it consumed the core of each participant. Their chin and teeth were painted red, dripping with a mixture of saliva and blood as they lifted their head, some organs still clinging to their teeth before they shook themselves off. Xinalith would then push themselves up from the ground, heavily breathing through their slackened jaw, before slowly turning back around, stalking back towards where they believed they had come from with hopes that somehow, they would return to their new home.
