Moskostrom

[Laharl]

I am....de-evolving.

A seemingly random yet rational thought slipped through the cerebrum of a monster, no longer holding to the mind of the obstinate child he once was. It was this world. The trees, the serenity, the beauty, the peace, everything in this world all signified elements that discouraged his proper growth.

Death. Death clinged tight to his throat.

The demon prince's cells could not remain constant in this diminsion. It was a wonder he did not already turn into a black hole. This whole time, since his escape from the BFC, his unstable DNA had been altering this beast into something neither human nor demon. Even something as horrendous as diving into water would not do much to his roughly scarred skin. His rust-colored irises turned a solid onyx, with the original color bleeding out around them. These eyes could not be seen though, as he hobbled about unsteadily through the forest with the dense mop of hair that hung down over his every feature.

Barely more than three feet tall, this little thing wandered aimlessly for days through the forest after finally arising from his hiding place. He lost the will to fight, to kill, or maim. His sharp tongue had dulled to that of a blithering simpleton. Laharl was, for lack of a better word, naked. And his mind quite lost, as soon to be his life.

That brief thought he had was but a flicker gliding across his mind, fleeting like the stream of shooting stars in the skies above. How it was that he possessed this cognitive pattern of cerebral functioning was unknown, for it seemed he had forgotten everything before. His jaw agape, he stumbled across a root protruding from the ground and fell headlong into a ditch. Curled up with his legs over his head, he found not even the reason to struggle back to his feet as his vanishing mind fought to grab claim to what was left of his psyche. Even the unsettling particles of earth and rock digging into his skin underneath him did not seem to register as painful or even uncomfortable.

What difference did it make? It seemed his fate was predisposed, to die in this ditch. Forgotten by all, including himself. In this peaceful, quiet, droll and boring hell, his last shreds of hope seemed to diminish into non-existance as reflected in his now dulled eyes.

[Esmée]

“Damn, and double damn” the soft curse rang through the forest, alerting those that dwelled within of her presence, not that she cared. She was growing irritated, twigs and branches kept snagging on the folds of her skirt, as if it wasn’t hard enough to move in the multi layered dress and shin-long cloak. Once more bending over to brush away the twigs ripping at the hem of the rose colored ruffles, she wondered why she continued to wear the old fashioned dresses. They were from a century long past, and yet she clung to that bit of her identity; old habits do die hard.

Straightening, she lifted her skirts with gloved hands, increasing her pace as a sudden breeze kicked up, tugging at the curls of chocolate hanging in a waterfall down her back. Winding her way around the towering trees, her slippered feet silent as can be, she sniffed the air, hoping to catch the scent of a human ignorant to be in forbidden territory at such an hour.

How the unbalanced do fall.

A loud, ungraceful thud reached her ears, coming from somewhere nearby, an area to her right. Changing directions, she veered directly at the source of the noise, coming to a stop right at the edge of the ditch, her pale green gaze resting on the body. Obviously not human.

“Are you alright?” she asked tentatively. A stupid question perhaps, but what else was she supposed to ask? It was mightily obvious he wasn’t alright. The smell of death and decay clung to him, though she wasn’t sure if it was because he was dying, or what. One never knew with demons.

Slipping the cloak from her shoulders, she knelt at his side, rolling him into a more comfortable, laying position before placing the cloak over him and tucking it underneath him at the sides. A rather kind gesture, most unexpected from a vampiress. But she was not without mercy and compassion, at least, so long as the person wasn’t human. Then she wouldn’t be so nice. Dropping into an Indian-style position, she sat still, watching the demon curiously.