The Demon Sedit

She wasn’t looking at him; her gaze drifted to the floor, lines of blood running the length of the hall where she dragged her freshly bloodied axe. Kit could see the handle was burnt, nearly in two. The axe head was melted and dull, reddened with rust and blood. Kit scrunched his brow at the sight of the pathetic wretch. She had been torn apart, limb by limb, perhaps more than once. Her body had been sewn back together, wrongly. A beam of moonlight crossed her mouth and chin, revealing her teeth had been plucked out. When she slowly moved forward, dragging one foot twisted out to the side, the dim light revealed her dark eyes and her top, hair torn away with bits of scalp. She stopped several paces in front of him and looked up, mimicking his stare. The darkness swallowed her face, but Kit knew it would only be a distant likeness.

“You can’t be here,” Kit said, straightening his spine and leveling his head with hers. He was glad to have her attention, but a strange curiosity gnawed at him. Her moonlit face, though disfigured, held a familiar expression; the same look of surprise Father Emerus used to give him. This terrifying demon, capable of assaulting both body and mind, was undeniably formidable. Yet, its gaze held a flicker of curiosity, even admiration. Was it his lack of fear that intrigued her? Had this mangled creature, free from its infernal prison for years, only encountered whimpers and screams from its victims? Whatever the reason, its audacity was clear. With slow, deliberate steps, Kit began to close the distance between them.            

He barely dodged the descending axe, its edge whistling past his face.