Previous Volumes
Volume 4 No. 1
Demons
by Chelsey R. Knapp
Compassion has never been part of my make-up. Sympathy is typically forced and used for manipulation. Emotions are rare. Far too human. I could never expect them to feel natural. Feeling nothing is easiest, feeling nothing is most comfortable. How silly for me to call it ‘feeling’ at all; I haven't felt anything in centuries.
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But to my dismay, that recently changed.
I was haunting the tavern. It was a typical Saturday night. While lurking in a rickety stairwell, I saw a young woman in a purple dress and matching hat appear at the foot of them.
The weight of my hooves caused the crumbling floorboards to creak as I leapt to land before her with horns piercing through my crown and fangs sharpened to such a fine prick, they glimmered under the faintest of candlelight. My wings sprawling to the ceiling, I was stretching taller and towering over her.
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Not only could she see me...she remained unfazed. She sighed and routed to climb over my enormous hooves to keep moving. I was merely in her way. “Thanks,” she said, “Typical.”
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I floated beside her and she swatted at me like a fly!
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I followed her, determined to find my Saturday night haunting. She made it impossible to enjoy possessing her. Like she was in such high demand, and I was just a dime a demon!
I coasted behind her. “You seem to be in a hurry.”
“Oh, am I not giving you enough attention?”
“I don’t tend to feel much, but I’m mildly annoyed, and I also may be impressed. The point is, I’m terrifying, and you’re not supposed to be this underwhelmed by me.”
She stopped. She clutched her throat and recoiled to the ground, facedown over the curb. She heaved and hacked in an awful, mortal way.
When she raised her head, the street was stained in a thick coat of crimson, dripping down a conduit into the sewer.
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A revolting feeling of remorse. And sympathy that wreaked like humanity. It was quite painful to feel. “How close to death are you?”
She wiped her mouth and licked the rust from her lips. “Quite the sweet-talker.”
Her face was well-carved. For a mortal. “I haven’t even reached the part where I say you’ll become an angel.” I cringed as I said it. Did I want her to like me? No, I wanted her to be terrified of me. I wanted her to have nightmares about me. But the only true terror...was the possibility that I was becoming a spineless, wingless shadow of the demon I once was... a ghost! I couldn’t bear the thought. It was a devastating demotion in the haunted realm.
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She started to laugh. I was quite an amusement to her. “Me... an angel...”
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She threw her head back and howled.
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“If there is in fact a place where the sinners all gather, trust, I’m sitting at the head of the table.”