Belphegor, still as a lurking cat in his position, stared back at the other’s face shield as if the faint reflection in it did not show his own complexion, but that of the man instead. If the demon had owned a tail to lazily swish from side to side with, the image could have appeared such a natural fit that it would not have raised an ounce of suspicion from unknowing bystanders.
“What a bold assumption.”
He did not think to further evaluate his cryptic answer. Peor had never been one to make many words where they were not necessary, even in his old days. Common conducts such as manners did not interest him. Whatever he did he would do without apology or explanation, and without asking or announcing himself first. Passion was about the only thing capable of loosening his tongue. Passion, and at even fewer times curiousity.
“Why did you kill him?”
———IT WAS THE KIND OF QUESTION THAT GOT STRAIGHT TO THE CORE OF THE ISSUE. the man was never the type to remain cryptic for long. instead, he approached with the kind of fearless grace a dancer would on hot coals. head behind fiberglass and padding, his voice only carried so far.
❝ it was not my intention to steal your prey. ❞ he began, this time much more sincere in his words. his quota was not exactly large when it came to killing, but it still ran the risk of outpacing his abilities. he was picky with his jobs, and the vigilantism only paid so well.
“Then you should have done what you did in private.”
The woman perched on top of a nearby trash can bit her lip, frowning at the scene presented to her. Not even two weeks ago Belphegor had struck a deal with the man bleeding out his life on the floor right now. Not nearly enough time for the poor fella to enjoy the benefits it had gained him. He would have gotten nominated for the nobel price for sure.
Alas, it seemed that the world would need to make do without the groundbreaking knowledge the demon had provided him with for a little longer. Not that Belphegor cared – the guy had been a true asshole as that – but the overall nature of work and the effort it required bid him to act at least a little disgruntled at his client’s premature demise anyway. Especially because it meant he had taken the trip to the surface for nothing at all.
“Why are you wearing a mask?”
———IT WAS AN INCONSEQUENTIAL KILL FOR A MAN WHO HELD HIS PIECE OF THE WORLD IN RANSOM. elliot considered running, no need to complicate it further in the event she’d already phoned the police. as it was, his own curiosity got the better of him.
❝ didn’t you learn helmet safety in ground school? ❞ a smile behind the mask as the man approached. at the back of his neck, a piercing burn erupted from proximity, the telling sign of occult influence. the corpse had given him the same sensation, a hint of the nature of his soul. he’d mistaken him for something wicked, when in fact, he was only holding onto a sliver of the power.
❝ or do demons not ride motorbikes? ❞
———There was a certain beauty at the end of the blade. He’d never admit it out of fear of his sanity, but the man felt intoxicated at this very second. His code denied all connection to the kill, knowing how it would change him were he to find pleasure in bloodshed. A part of you died with them when you became attached.
Lifting from beside the limp body, the masked man wiped the blade on its lapel. Clean, quick, and humane. He didn’t need to complicate it with further creativity. A silent word uttered, he lifted his hand to begin the immolation, before pausing.
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