Author’s Note: Everyone starts dying and things get a bit...gory. =====================================================================

Prism stood outside an all-night club, letting herself be caressed by an inexperienced boy. She liked the fact that he was big and eager to learn, but what intrigued her was that a delicious specimen of male, like him, was so inexperienced in how to pleasure a woman. So she stood, telling him what she liked and what annoyed her. So far, he was doing all the right things except for one. He wasn’t bleeding. He had agreed to feel her up in an alley, but hadn’t agreed to bleed. She had to take it what she could.

She smiled when his touching became a little bolder and he lifted her so that she had to wrap her legs around his waist. She liked the feel of his erection between her legs, liked knowing that she could still fool the human race. When he was at the point of culmination, she’d bite his head off. Literally. She was in the cusp of heightened pleasure, when her meal for the night dropped her on her ass. She wanted to smack him, but he was suffering from blunt force trauma. She looked up and screamed, but was promptly hit by a huge, rock hard fist.

“You should have seen me coming.”

She knew that voice. She shook her head free and felt clumps of her blonde hair and her human face fall into her lap. “You asshole! Do you know how long it took me to perfect that face?”

Fenrir laughed, cold and unmerciful. “Does it look like I give a fuck?”

His hand reached out and grabbed her by the horns on her demon head and lifted her off her feet, tossing her into the nearest brick wall. He didn’t give her time to gather her wits. He bared his teeth and bit her shoulder off. He liked the feel of raw blood and felt her own power, her energy rush into him. Had he been with anyone else, particularly Veritas, he would have called it foreplay, but this...this was a part of his bloodlust.

“You bit me!” Prism screamed.

Fenrir shoved a well-placed fist into her ribcage, the bones breaking under the force. Blood spurted over his face, but he opened his fist and shoved his nails into her chest, reaching for her heart. It pumped wildly, trying to compensate for the blood loss. He twisted his hand, the organs giving way to the sharpness of his claws and being neatly torn up. He leaned in close, smiled as Prism’s mouth stretched wide open, her nose and mouth dripping with blood.

“How does it feel to have something so big inside of you, Prism? Does it feel good?” He asked, licking at her blood-stained lips. “Do you want me to do it harder?”

“Ass...hole.”

“I don’t do it that way. I like looking at your face when I’m tearing into you.” He laughed, somewhat manically and kissed her, once, so softly that it terrified her more than anything. “Have you ever seen your heart beat out of your chest? I did it once before. Do you want to know who was my first victim?”

“Your...mom...” Prism answered, voice hoarse.

Fenrir shook his head, defiant, angry. “My wife.”

He jerked his hand free from Prism’s chest and let her see her heart. He laughed and crushed the organ in his hands, reveling in the sound Prism made as she breathed her last breath. He forced himself not to look at the organ, but he did, and her reared his head back and bit into the soft organ. He ate it like the sweetest candy, letting it slide down his throat like a piece of fruit. It sent shivers up his spine and he felt every sane thought leave his mind.

There were four in his mind that he had to look for. Each one would represent those he had lost when he became demon. He had taken out one. There were three more he needed to find. The next would be Razor, then Arcane, then, lastly Vermillion. If he survived, if there was any part of him that would be left intact, he would go back to Veritas. He’d spend his life with her, and when she died, so would he. At least he’d give himself a bit of happiness before his world ended.

Maybe this time, he’d end it for good.

Vermillion raised an eyebrow when Arcane entered his chambers, holding something that was suppose to be what was left of Prism. He placed it on the table and stepped back, letting Vermillion find out what he needed to know on his own.

Prism’s heart had been crushed. No doubt outside of her body. And what of her body?

“I don’t know. This was all that was left. I found her purely by chance.”

“Ah, is that so? He managed to kill Prism...how?” Vermillion asked.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Negligence.” Vermillion answered. “You three were so cocky and so full of yourselves that you forget that underestimating your opponent is twice as deadly. Paper cuts are small, but they hurt like hell. In this case, Fenrir is this little paper cut that will eventually become a nuisance. What do you plan on doing?”

“I’m going to kill him, sir.”

“Oh, I hope you do, Arcane.” Vermillion looked at what was left of Prism. “She, like the rest of you, were like children to me. I raised you all when you were nothing but a fledglings. I didn’t approve of Prism’s ability to look human, but I admired that she tried. And Razor...he was a crazy bastard, but I was proud of what he accomplished as a demon. And you...even though you’re in love with Veritas, I knew she wouldn’t succumb to your charms, but nonetheless encouraged you to try. It would pain me to lose you, but it would pain me even more if he manages to somehow turn my own daughter against me. I know it is almost futile for him to try, but I want he dead, nonetheless.”

“I will do as you say, sir.” Arcane answered. He paused at the doorway. “May I ask you one thing?”

Vermillion looked at Arcane and nodded. “If you do kill him, I’d give you my blessing to lay with my daughter. And one more thing, Arcane.”

“Sir?”

“Look for Razor. Tell him if he encounters Fenrir, that he should kill him. If he is capable.”

Arcane nodded and exited the chamber. Vermillion laughed as he picked up the remains and dumped them into the nearest trash bin. What Arcane didn’t know was that Veritas had much more power than was readily apparent to the demons and humans she lived amongst. Sure he was a demon lord, but his precious daughter was much more than a half-breed. She had the best of both worlds. She had his and her mother’s greatest strengths. As far as he knew...Veritas herself was the all-powerful demon lord Fenrir had been looking for. He just didn’t realize it.

* * *

Veritas sat on her couch, watching the hours tick by on a wall-clock. She had cleared up her books, each one had a place on her shelves, leaving the living room almost bare of anything. She rubbed at her eyes, ignoring the growling in her stomach. It had been hours since she had seen Fenrir. She wasn’t really worried...well, maybe a little.

She crossed to the window, staring out into the darkening day. It wasn’t that her memory was faulty, it was just that...a lot of time had passed since the day she had initially met him and the day she met him again. She was referring to Fenrir. She knew him as a human. She had seen him, a mere passing glance, as he was standing outside a ironwork factory. She had seen desolation every where she went, and his story was no different from those around him. A family man trying to put food on the table when times were tough. She pitied the human race. After all, she was half-human. Why not try to make a difference?

She had seen him and had fallen in love. But how could she tell a perfect stranger that she was a half-demon in a time were demons were thought to only be legends? Demons who were usually linked to Satan himself? So she kept to the shadows, buying properties just so that one day he would come to her, to find a job, to thank her for giving him a new lease on life. That was her intention. She never meant to turn him into a demon. It was because of his inexperience and his lust for power that had made him destroy his life and family.

She turned away from the window when something scratched against her door. She stood where she was, hugging herself, worried if it was someone else or Fenrir. Would she tell him everything she knew now or would she allow him to face her father in which he had nothing to do with Fenrir’s journey for revenge? The door opened and she held her breath.

“Veritas?”

She smiled with relief and went to him, ignoring the shake of his head. She pressed her lips against his, pressing her body to the front of his. His arms wrapped around in her response, lifting her and pushing her against the wall. His mouth was soft and forgiving on her neck, moving lower to knead her breasts with his mouth.

“I was so worried,” Veritas breathed. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He admitted, guiding her legs around his waist. “I had to see you. I had to know you were okay.”

“Bedroom.” She gasped when his erection rubbed between her legs.

He carried her to the room, ripping off clothes as he moved. He had to stop twice just so that he wouldn’t drop to the ground. As strong as he was, being with her made his knees weak and his mind turn into putty. He managed to get them into the bedroom, naked, and in once piece.

He thrust inside her just as they fell into the bed. He apologized quickly, smoothing her hair from her face and kissing her. He pulled her legs up to his hips, holding her still while he moved inside her. She arched her back, fingers digging into the bed sheets as she moaned his name over and over. Her hips began to buck and she shut her eyes, watching Fenrir moving inside her was too erotic to watch.

He pulled her up to his body, pushing her back against the wall and driving into her like a man who hadn’t had sex in years. He wanted to make her scream, he wanted to be drenched in her sweat, her essence, her love. He wanted to be in every part of her, knowing that he was the source of her pleasure and happiness. His mouth moved to her neck, trailing love bites down to her breasts and biting hard enough to leave marks on the sensitive flesh. He raised her arms over her head, thrusting with every ounce of strength he had in his back and legs.

Her body clamped around him as he drove himself into those final thrusts. He held his place as every ounce of him exploded into her body. She continued to writhe and grip him until she collapsed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She nuzzled Fenrir’s head, kissing the side of his neck, his shoulder as he lay over her in a protective gesture.

“You smell like blood.” Veritas mumbled. She tried to sit up, but he held her down. “Are you still hurt?”

“It’s not mine.” He replied, rolling to his side. He watched her as her eyes moved over his body. Yeah, he could get used to waking up next to her. He touched the edges of her hair, tugging on a lock and pulling her down to kiss her. “It’s Prism’s.”

“Prism?” Veritas whispered against his mouth. The kiss was tender, affectionate, and she felt his arms circle her waist, holding on to her as if she would try to run. “How did her blood-”

Fenrir’s eyes looked calm. Too calm. “She’s dead, Veritas.”

“Fenrir, what did you do?”

The half-demon sat up, capturing her chin with his thumb and index finger. “I killed her, Veritas. I killed her the same way I killed my wife. I tore her heart out and ate it.”

It shouldn’t have shocked her, but it did. Was Fenrir going crazy? She knew he was a demon, but a part of him was still human. Did that part of him disregard all human life? She wanted to argue, but Fenrir’s eyes slid to the open bedroom door.

“What is it, Fenrir?”

“Razor. He’s come to play.”

“Fenrir-”

“Shh.” Fenrir leaned over her and kissed her again, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll be right back.”

He stood and gave her a malicious smile that meant so much more than mere violence. He was going to wipe out Razor’s existence. Just what exactly made him different from all other demons?

Fenrir moved out of the room quickly, his body changing right before her eyes. He didn’t look that much different from all the demons she had seen. She tried to call to him, but he ignored her, moving into the living room. He began screeching, the sound resembling Prism’s attack. She ran into the living room and stared as Razor lay on his side, his entire left leg had been bare of all tissue and muscle, leaving only the bone.

“Veritas...” Razor hissed.

Fenrir stood above Razor, laughing. He glanced behind him and smiled at Veritas. “I’ll be done in a moment.”

“Fenrir, have you gone crazy?” She whispered.

“I’m not crazy. It’s just bloodlust.” Fenrir answered. He held Razor by the neck then grabbed the joint of his wing. “Have you ever had Thanksgiving? They usually use a knife to cut off the wings, but I find it much more gratifying to pull the wings out myself.”

“Fenrir!” Veritas screamed.

The sound of bone breaking and muscle tearing should have made anyone sick to their stomach. Instead, Veritas couldn’t help but stare as Fenrir happily pulled at the joint of the membranous wing and licked at the muscle tendons still sticking to the bone. He bit off what still remained and placed a mouth on Razor’s back. He cackled as the smaller demon howled and writhed, trying to claw his way out from Fenrir’s grasp.

“Sit still! You’re going to ruin my dinner.” Fenrir growled.

He reached for the other wing and pulled it out without so much as a warning. The bones of Razor’s back gave way, a spinal column coming free with the movement. Razor jerked one last time and fell over, blood pouring out from his mouth. Fenrir’s mouth descended on the wounds on his back, drinking him up and eating the pieces of flayed flesh. His eyes rolled backwards and he turned, looking at Veritas.

“This is what I am, Veritas. Does it frighten you?”

Veritas shook her head and slid to the floor. “What kind of demon are you, Fenrir? Tell me so I can understand. I’m scared right now because I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why you’re doing this, why you’re showing me this. Just tell me so I won’t be afraid anymore.”

Fenrir crawled towards her, licking the remnants of blood from his mouth. He moved so that he could cradle her in his arms, could feel her body tremble with unshed tears. He shut his eyes, listening to her heart beat. She was the only pillar of support he had. She was the only one he could never hurt.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see this.”

“I love you, Fenrir, but please, tell me...what is going on with you?”

Fenrir stared at the carpet, letting her fingers stroke his hair. “I have the ability to consume other demons and take their powers. I...took Prism’s power. That’s how Razor’s leg was so badly wounded. Now I have the ability to fly as fast as Razor. My wings will also be as sharp as his.”

“You’ve survived this long...consuming other demons?”

“I did what I had to do to find Vermillion. He’s the one that did this to me. He’s the one that made me...kill my family. I have to find him and kill him.”

Veritas shook her head, over and over. “Can’t you just give up on him. How long as it been, Fenrir? Tomorrow, start anew. Tomorrow start your life with me. Why do you have to-”

“It’s for my family.” Fenrir answered. “I can’t be with you until I avenge them. I have to do this one thing and I swear to the God above us that I will lay down my life for you. I’d give you children if you want. But I have to finish this first. I have to have closure.”

“My poor Fenrir...” Veritas whispered. She held him close to her heart. She knew if she told him the truth, it would break him. She held him until she thought he had fallen asleep.

“Razor is dead.”

Vermillion looked up and bared his teeth in a snarl. “Who said?”

“Veritas.”

The demon lord stood up quickly enough that his chair had fallen. He paced the length of the room and turned, eyeing Arcane. “What else did she say?”

Arcane shifted weight from one foot to the other. “Fenrir has the ability to consume other demons in a bloodlust and absorb their powers.”

Vermillion noticed Arcane’s slight gesture. “Are you worried, Arcane?”

“I heard Fenrir on the line.” Arcane said, eyes betraying his deep hatred for the half-demon. “He’s still sleeping in her bed.”

“All the more reason to kill him, right, Arcane?” Vermillion hissed.

The more he learned about Fenrir, the more he began to hate him. It didn’t help that Fenrir was also sleeping with his daughter who was the same person who had changed him into a demon. What a tangled web they weaved. It was sad and at the same time...well worth the time and effort.

“What do you propose we do?”

“We let Veritas play the damsel in distress. Take her and bring her here. Then, return and finish him off. If you can.”

Arcane raised an eyebrow. “You’re leaving yourself open and you’re involving your daughter in the affairs that should remain your own.”

“Really, Arcane?” Vermillion asked, sitting and intertwining his fingers. “Do you want to know a secret? I wasn’t the one who changed the man into a demon. It is the very woman that he sleeps with that has turned him into a demon, not I.”

“Veritas? But she...”

Vermillion smiled and tipped his head back, popping his neck. “She is the legend behind the feared demon lord of this city. I am powerful, but compared to her...you have not seen power until you have seen her transform. She is both beautiful and terrifying.”

“But why does she hide behind that human mask?”

“Why do all demons hide behind the mask of humans?” Vermillion asked his associate. “She knows nothing of her mother, yet is compelled to be human. She knows everything of being a demon, does not wish to abuse that power. She is like all of God’s creatures. She is simple, yet complex. A creature full of contradictions.”

Arcane braced the wall. “Why not kill her if she rivals your power here?”

“I can’t, even if I wanted to. She can easily crush me. Even as a child I knew of her powers. I loved her as much as I could and in return, she protected me. She kept me in power. Why kill the woman who has fought to keep me alive?”

Arcane slid to the floor, shaking his head. “What do we do now?”

Vermillion sighed. “If she loves him, she won’t let him die. By my hand or otherwise. But if his revenge becomes priority and he forsakes her love...we will hide. For her wrath would destroy the world.”

=====================================================================