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Description
A hundred demons could not stop me.
Then why is it that you could?

The tip of my sword rested on the soft, tight skin on your neck. Your muscles stretched as you breathed in and out. Big long breaths, to show you were defiant, but not so defiant as to cut yourself upon my blade. My blade, stained with the blood of men and demons, so tainted by their blood, it seems, that it could not pierce and angel.

For what reason did you stand before my blade?

You stand there with your arms out, your shining wings extended in their ten-meter span. You seem much too small for those wings… wings that could have lifted an elephant. Your eyes stare at me in hatred and sadness. Too many times have I witnessed a woman cry, but never while staring me back in the eyes, with their eyebrows creased, and the only sound from their lips, not a scream, but instead the sound of heavy, tattered breathing, each breath leaving a newly condensed group of droplets on the cold metal by the side of your neck.

As the red faded from my eyes, I began to see what had come before me, what had stopped my rampage, my genocide. Demons, hundreds of them, all around me, lay dead in snow, pure white but for the blood that painted a scene of gore across the landscape. The sinners, the gluttons, the lustful, the one that had fallen slave to avarice - servants of the demons - are also decaying by their side. To bring death to those bound to suffer forever in the chains of hell, I had done them a favour.

Stone pillars rose up from the snow at my feet, rising up to a sky that was redder than the blood-covered ground, dirtied by smoky gray clouds that seemed not to drift or shift, only hang there, as dead as the corpses they kept watch over.

The sound of my own breathing became sensible to me. My throat, hoarse from hours of screaming, dry from hours of thirst, and bloodied from the blood that threatened to come pouring out of my stomach. The cold, gritty air came into my lungs, and with each breath I took, the cold and grit stayed, and life left my body. With each breath I took, I took less of a breath.

And you became her.

My arm turned to lead, my fingers lost all their strength. My sword leapt from my hands. I watched it as it left her neck, fall past her breasts, her hips, her legs, and at last, hit the snow, missing her feet. She was unhurt. I almost smiled. She continued to stare at me with cold eyes. Her cherry lips parted, her forked tongue hidden just behind her teeth, pronouncing a word.

"Sssssssleep," a word so gentle, yet so venomous my mind was too conflicted to tell between hostility and compassion. My eyelids shielded my pupils as her glowing golden wings wrapped around me. The light should have made me see the red behind my eyelids.

I only saw black.

Description
A hundred demons could not stop me.
Then why is it that you could?

The tip of my sword rested on the soft, tight skin on your neck. Your muscles stretched as you breathed in and out. Big long breaths, to show you were defiant, but not so defiant as to cut yourself upon my blade. My blade, stained with the blood of men and demons, so tainted by their blood, it seems, that it could not pierce and angel.

For what reason did you stand before my blade?

You stand there with your arms out, your shining wings extended in their ten-meter span. You seem much too small for those wings… wings that could have lifted an elephant. Your eyes stare at me in hatred and sadness. Too many times have I witnessed a woman cry, but never while staring me back in the eyes, with their eyebrows creased, and the only sound from their lips, not a scream, but instead the sound of heavy, tattered breathing, each breath leaving a newly condensed group of droplets on the cold metal by the side of your neck.

As the red faded from my eyes, I began to see what had come before me, what had stopped my rampage, my genocide. Demons, hundreds of them, all around me, lay dead in snow, pure white but for the blood that painted a scene of gore across the landscape. The sinners, the gluttons, the lustful, the one that had fallen slave to avarice - servants of the demons - are also decaying by their side. To bring death to those bound to suffer forever in the chains of hell, I had done them a favour.

Stone pillars rose up from the snow at my feet, rising up to a sky that was redder than the blood-covered ground, dirtied by smoky gray clouds that seemed not to drift or shift, only hang there, as dead as the corpses they kept watch over.

The sound of my own breathing became sensible to me. My throat, hoarse from hours of screaming, dry from hours of thirst, and bloodied from the blood that threatened to come pouring out of my stomach. The cold, gritty air came into my lungs, and with each breath I took, the cold and grit stayed, and life left my body. With each breath I took, I took less of a breath.

And you became her.

My arm turned to lead, my fingers lost all their strength. My sword leapt from my hands. I watched it as it left her neck, fall past her breasts, her hips, her legs, and at last, hit the snow, missing her feet. She was unhurt. I almost smiled. She continued to stare at me with cold eyes. Her cherry lips parted, her forked tongue hidden just behind her teeth, pronouncing a word.

"Sssssssleep," a word so gentle, yet so venomous my mind was too conflicted to tell between hostility and compassion. My eyelids shielded my pupils as her glowing golden wings wrapped around me. The light should have made me see the red behind my eyelids.

I only saw black.