10.31.18

Brittle. Teeming. Intoxicating.

Demonax had the thought of such events of the month elude her when she returned. Desperation stunted her evaluation of planning and now, she paid the price.

She could smell it on the breeze. Feel it tingle over her skin. Clinging. Whispering.

Demonax tried her best to keep herself in her den. Cleaning. Carving. Planning. Tidying up Runes.

So much clamored outside. Choirs of beings howling into the dim sky where Blood Flowers glided to the floor in heavy amounts.

She paced.

Pacing.

Pacing.

Pacing...

"Go out..." The hiss ensued through her mind. "This is the one night you could get away with it.


'No...No, I know faces now..know their voices. See their trust..

Side long and sneering the voice echoed back,"Don't act like it matters. It's never stopped you before."


A snarl and out a slender frame emerged from the log. Talon'd paws hit velvet ground of red.


Red.


Everywhere.

The hue glazed over wide eyes as she took in the site.


A forbidden color.


The color of remembrance.
The color of regret.
The color of sin.
The color of a tainted desire.
The color of mutiny to the senses.


The color of a sinister ease.


Each step that took her upon the sea of an unwanted addiction, ever hair on end, hackles bobbing up and down with every choppy step.


She could smell it even more. Clinging to the breeze like a sickness. Her feet taking her somewhere.


Water. Water to calm.



Yet over that hill, there was no calm. It was the source.


Red and lapping. Licking at the edge of the hill.


Demo just stared more intently. Dazed really.


It was too much. Placing food near a starved wolf. Survival couldn't resist.


A gleaming fanged smirk grew within the shadow of her mind. No words were needed to push.


And push came to shove and all that came next was a feral swan dive that needled its way into the crimson hued water.


'This will do. This is enough. This is better. This can last. A sinning miracle.'


Demonax swam about under water for what felt like eons of a high. Engulfing easily more than she could physically hold, sinuses stinging and gut tightening.

This would do.


How such came to be was a mystery. But one she'd not question.


The trick was to allow this to satisfy and not cause a bloodlust of constant craving no matter the quantity intake. The trick Demonax had a hard time reining in when mentally teetering on nothing to lose. To feel the sensation of no longer holding back. Highly tempting for she felt it before. Unraveling. Allowing.


But she couldn't. It brought too much destruction no matter the unholy comfort it brought.



She rose upon the shore. Soaked in a shroud of crimson. Eyes ablaze and wild while it all leaked from her flaring nostrils and agape mouth.

Retching and calling into the night, it splattered sloppily onto the thick and sappy mud.

Her form ebbed and rippled for a hair raising moment as she thousand mile stared savagely into the tree line.

Breathing ragged as a clicking in her throat scanned the moment.

The stride she held became more feral and silent as she stalked through the night, her mind high on the sensation.

Blood spills from time to time from partially bared fangs..

And into the blood stained moon it seethed.
A scolding gaze to the unreachable heavens.
A cursing call to insult the manners of Gods.
For they had been forsaken.
For their love taken and made an example out of.
No longer did they believe in redemption upon the knee high corpse filled battlefield.
A Blood Moon was born; Stained upon a sky ablaze yet cold and barren.

-- The Blood Moon Summon








10.26.18

Met a small Bayi today whom decided they desired to groom Demo's neck fluff in their squirrel manner. Silently hung out with Milla once again for a large duration of the day.

Decided she wanted to take a swim and made her way to pond. Cleaned self and dove about after some fish. Caught a bass as she hauled herself onto the shore as Noite gave her a weird look. Demo shrugged it off as she headed back to her den. Found out company was casually staying right outside which she squinted at as she evaded for a moment into hollow.

Came back out and offered whatever hospitality she had. Settled on some oak scotch whiskey and found out whom was the being.

Aima seemed...highly dismissive over much, mainly on things Demo couldn't imagine being really lackadasiy over in means of feeling. Both were getting fuzzy with alcohol which caused both to get oddly punchy a bit. Demo dismissed herself in blunt and emotionless (yet mildly emotional distressed) hospitality. It took all she had to ease down.

Tossed apple to Aima and departed back to pond in which she dived down and didn't even come up for easily 15 minutes. Just floated in limbo, drowning without drowning, staring into the murkiness as her very mind vibrated. Came back onto land, water heaving from her mouth as she gag, sputtered and coughed. Went on as if it was a casual means to be, not bothering to shake off until approaching to den entrance again.

Went back to what she was originally going to do.

Put up vine "door" back to detour company.
Started a fire.
Cooked the Bass.
Ate in a brittle silence as the fire crackled on.


She stared at her Gardenia from her glowing spot. Dismissed her spacing as she climbed into her nest, the soft rustle of her shifting and curling up filling the atmosphere. Stared at the walls where the shadows wagged and ebbed..


Sleep and hope your dreams are better than the reality.



10.25.18







10.24.18


Demonax spent most of her day resting in her den, coming out every once in a while to watch the twinkling lights of the sun through the canopy, taking in the fresh air. The fawn that accompanied her left sometime in the night or early morning as when she awoke, the small lump beside her was no more. She visited egg at the ruins as it was becoming her routine now. Demonax only came milling around once more to stretch legs and finding weird weather patterns, like portal slips in the atmosphere. Another being was there in which, to break the awkward meeting, began to chat about recent events. Alchemilla was of a giving nature as they bestowed Demonax a lovely gold necklace with a red crystal attached. Demo was not sued to gifts, especially from a very new acquaintance, but thankfully accepted.







10.23.18 - Later in the day

Was woken to the sound of small hooves scrapping up the rock she was basking in the sun on. A feeble and frail fawn (Lizette) was staggering up. To her surprising wonderment, the child merely desired warmth and a sense of protection. Demo never shunned children away even in consideration her nature. She nosed and groomed the fawn before carrying them gingerly (and away from curious eyes due to the unusual look of this act) to her den. Demo lacked maternal resources to feed the scrawny child but made due with fruit she had stored away. It was better than nothing. Demonax and the fawn shared her nest for the night.

10.23.18

Finally, the rains ceased and the fog rolled in like a groggy giant through the trees. But the damage was done as Demo continued to stifle coughs. It felt as if she inhaled the rain and allowed it to settle in her chest.

She checked on the egg first thing once she awoke to the smell of campfire. Blaze still managing to thrive even if barely now.

Activity was high around the ruins which ran her nerves on end. The whispering hissed around in her head, alerting over the rather large grotesque creature with it's clamoring followers. She slunk about, battling to silence and take control of the defiant murmuring, finding herself heading towards the pond away from the commotion. For a while she zoned at the glass like surface of the pond, mulling over her inerrant loneliness.

Demo barely ever allowed her such privileges to think about her own quarrels, even if her life solely existed on them, but some days she had no say.

She could never be truly allowed to be accepted by anyone. She was too. . .

A hiss of the mind ensued, "Monstrous. . .Horrid. Abomination... Eater of Sin.. Defiled Saint. . .. Craviture of Innocence... The Mad...The Unholy..The Blasphemy.. Shame of Nature... You've done things that Gods could only stare in disbelief at. You've raised the bar for every Demon and Devil. The Queen of Mutiny Against the World.. . The Savage Blood Moon."



She sighed inwardly at herself.


She was chilled by the wind and the reminder of her path. She padded her way to the playground, grabbing a spot in the sun upon and warmed rock to ease her frigid time.





10.22.18 - Early Morning

Flinched awake to the loud clap of thunder which was soon met to the frigid damp cool air. The weather was changing and Demonax was finding her need for warmth far more needing than she anticipated she'd desire in the forest. The rain was really becoming a pain in her ass.


The day before, she found herself accompanied by a strange egg that was left within the hollow she was lounging in as of late. Beautiful was too watered downed to really describe the newly found life in which Demo found herself curiously staring at and drawing protective runes around. No doubt it was still there, so she checked it's well being sluggishly, not yet realizing how physically under the weather she was feeling, nosing some more dry foliage around the opal like egg.

Sitting back on her haunches, holding her eyes closed for a drowsy moment, a subtle yet wet cough sounded from her chest. Since her picking at some vegetation to curb her "nutritional needs" and swallowing it the wrong way, the cough had yet to really subside, now festering in something other than lodged food. The rain was really indeed becoming a pain in her ass...


She glanced out at the relentless rain, weighting if she desired water enough to get soaked and more cold than she already was.


Heading back to the realm of humanity was a tempting thought, but always drained her shifting between worlds, likely at this point doing more damage then good. She could make due here in the forest. She just needed some resources.

Wood and the basics for fire starting.


Demonax continued her stare at the wall of rain.


Would there be anything dry enough to work with...


Yet, a thought did cross her mind. . . . She heaved herself up and trotted briskly back to her older den which may still have some resources left after all this time if no one got too snoopy while she was away.

On arrival, she was greeted with the familiar and missed aroma of Gardenia. If she was honest, she did miss this place. She missed the comfortable confinement it held. The nest and the warmth it tended to hold within the petrified wood walls. She stood, idling at the entrance as droplets twinkled on her fur giving her the look of a night sky with help of the dim light of approaching morning. Her eyes stared at the faint residue of older blood and turmoil on the ground and wall from an unsavory adventure.


"That's not what is holding you back from staying here. . . ." a voice murmured, rousing for a moment with a sneer as it reminded her of truth she hoped to forget.


It was right. A part of her was not wanting to deal with the comforting memories of this place. Yet, in the same distasteful breath, she wondered if it was actually what she needed to find a sense of grounding again. Another reason was she witnessed others hanging out here. She didn't like the thought of losing something equivalent to territory.


A nasally exhale and back on original mission: resources. With a fluid glance about, she noted everything being pretty much the same. Various things like the nest and some shelved items like the blankets Jude lended her and some personal items seemed to be disheveled a bit, but nothing was taken. Likely curious bystanders wandering in for some shelter and rest realizing it was an occupied spot. Thankfully, they were respectful enough to not take anything. Now she felt like the wandering traveler looking for a nice spot to rest.

'It'd be fine to just stay here for a bit.' Demonax persuading herself to spare herself from going back into the frigid rain in which her growing sickness agreed eagerly as she made her way to the small fire pit she dug out. A few thankfully dry sticks still idled by the wall, one being what impaled her, in which she picked up between gnarly teeth, tasting the earthy aroma and faint splash of copper, plopping it all down in the scooped out pit. She began noting what she wanted to achieve design wise with the fireplace as all her ideas she had going never made it to existence to spruce this place up. She stopped herself.

'You're not staying here. . .It's only for a brief moment.'

A few twirls of wood against one another from shifted hands and straw from nest to help ignite, a growing licking flame was born. A steady outstretched taloned finger drew into the dirt around the fire runes that would give the flame a longer life considering the little resources she had. Demonax nestled down, closer to the side of the nest as she tucked her muzzle in close to her neck like a crane about to slumber on the edge of a bank. The fire was wholeheartedly refreshing and lulled her back to sleeping state after she reached and drug Jude's blanket over her body, the static of rain washing over her senses.










10.19.18

Woke up to find a kid in hollow with her. Side eyed the equally startled kid for a time. Soon found conversation with them as the rain continued on. Learned their name was Altayr. Nice kid.





10.18.18


Rain was heavy and cooling. Almost too cooling.

Demonax milled about more for a spot, the rain motivating her to move faster. Poked her head into a dark crevice nestled behind a few trees in the ruins. Slender body slid through to find a nice, dry and spacious cave- likely once being part of a room years ago. It smelled rustic and earthy, finding no one had been here in a very long time.


Perfect.


The faint sounds of water droplets plopping to the ground murmured as the beast shook her eggplant colored fur, standing and blinking , idling in a thought as her gaze peers over her shoulder to the drenched world.

It was a step of routine and a sense of security. She found herself having a fondness to going through the paces of setting it up as a small home for herself. She nosed away a few rocks, pushing them to the outside to find a neighbor not too far off. Demo's nostrils flared a bit as her eyes narrowed as she smelled. Young. Pregnant. Yet not male nor female.

She watched for a bit longer before curling back into her den, nestling up in the corner as she zoned out to the static of the rain.









10.12.18

A ticking of madness.

Bittersweet return, not because she gave a damn, but because there was no other place she could hazard to find a moment to idle with the soft and fragile hope of safety. It was hazed with petty memories that the wreathing sloppy tar of her insides pushed away such fleeted moments in which, for once, she was thankful for.

From bone to muscle, she vibrated in surges trying to contain her avidity to alter forms in a blind rampage. To scratch that never ceasing itch..

an ache she could barely take..


'You shouldn't...you can't..' the morally sane part of her ebbing through the thicket of jagged chaos reminded.


'Oh but why the fuck not? What's it maaatter.....matter?...it doesn't. Accept it. Destroy it.' Tantalizing the other side of her, the rotten side voiced.


Stuck in the rift between two forces as she walked through the stifling forest, she wished it made her feel more free of restrictions and close to others, yet she bared through in hope of finally settling the mind.


She stalked her way to the place she called her own here for a time to find some stag taking residence there now. This wasn't the first time and she had hoped they would have went on else where after the Rut that she knew came and went in her absence. But there he sat in his stoic melancholy. A part of her wanted nothing more but to show the absolute ugliest side of herself and tear the unwelcomed away from what she had claimed. To scar the very fabrication of their mind. To cause pain to them over her absolute desire to show them what was hers. Demonax's hackles rose at the tempting option.

'The last thing you need is to start having the only lay low place you can bear to start hunting you down.'


A crinkle in her muzzle justified her understanding of sanity even if she didn't like it. She understood. Just didn't like it.


She didn't like anything she wanted or desired.


She flicked her tail as she pulled away and went on through the trees. Demonax wanted to find a place to call hers where she didn't have to share with anyone. A place to meditate and ease the screams in the distant reaches of her mind that clawed and slithered there way into the little rays of light of her consciousness.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't have thoughts of those she knew and shared company with here while she readjusted herself back.

'Just....don't. Fucking don't.' Reminding herself to keep grounded. Don't let too much emotion in. Don't succumb to the vulnerability it allows. Not now. Not now, damn it.


She wandered. Looking. Looking for a moment of self.

















1.17.18 - Very dark early morning

When she came back, she had almost forgotten the state of the den. The blood was well and dried on the walls and ground. The wooden stake still where it was left. The extra blankets that Jude lent stacked next to the entrance. The small fire pit, cold and charred with the onyx nestled in the middle.

Grim came by, and regardless, with Demo saying nothing to the lad, he still talked to her a bit. She only stared at him, feeling as if he wasn’t even real.He dropped a small skull at the entrance and scurried off as he does. She stared at the gift for a long time. She doesn’t even know why anyone tries. She doesn’t know why she tries. She closed her eyes at these thoughts with a drawn out breath before picking the gift up and setting it by her nest.

She turned back to the mess. There was no reaction to the sight before her. It was just a task to be done. And so she began the motions, slow and indifferent.

Taking clumps of dried straw and rubbing away the flaking blood, she tried to exist away from her thoughts.

”I told you. . . . .”That rumbling voice hissed, propping itself triumphant and elegant within her mind. It never could help itself.

”I told you what was to become of you yet you dared to deny the inevitable.”

She felt herself holding her breath, trying to focus on the scrubbing echoing within the log.

”Oh, but you always have some form of hope. You should just abandon it. Just like everything else abandons you.” The voice gave a growing toothy smirk.

“Shut up. . . .” Demo whispered, scrubbing harder.

”Going to try and look past the truth once more? My, my, what a fool you are even after all these years. You must realize you won’t be someones priority.


“Stop. . .” Demo kept scrubbing hard, feeling her skin start rubbing against the wood through the straw.


The voice’s eyes gleamed from the shadows.
”You’re only used for your powers, strength and what you bare.You are nothing but a tool. And you know that—”

”Shut up!!! Demo’s shifted hand punched into the wall, a few crackling sounds ensued yet thankfully the log was practically petrified, so little damage was done. Her teeth was bared and her hackles on end. Wild eyes blazed as she clenched her fist tighter, it popping back in place as straw crinkled in her tight grip.
The hot sharp tingling ran up her nose as she suppressed emotion. The voice only smirked and coiled itself back away knowing it won.

The demon threw down her fist full of straw and stared at the slowly jerking and unraveling clump. She leaned in and allowed her head to press against the wall. Demo bared her teeth as she tightly closed her eyes with a deep growl to only exhale and relax her face once more.

It was pointless to feel.

Just forget it.

There’s no room for this.




1.16.18

There was no girl.
There was no peace.
There was no hope.

1.4.18

Stumbling in, she crashed into the wall of the den. The rubbing of fur and feet upon organic surfaces sizzled about, intensifying as her legs gave out. Hands smeared their crimson mistakes over this newly found petrified fortitude. She slid farther down and sat upon her side, slumped upon the wall, face resting on the cool surface of her destination. Her tight grip upon her drive-by tools fell with a rattling thud. She managed to hide her face within that…organic disguise just for a while as she blundered, fruitlessly, through this newly found paradox of a forest that blistered her vision with its…numbing sense of paradigm. Yet now, in her shallow yet idling breathe, she could let it all just…crumble away. Melding back like creeping vines, her chiseled face lay bare to the pain squinting in her eyes.

To her luck yet to a deep rooted dismay, no one was there and nobody came.

“No one to hold you and say it’s going to be okay. No one to help you mend your disasters. No one to worry over you. No one. Why? Because they don’t care. Not for someone as loathsome as you.” The deep rumbling of the voice collided around in her mind, blurring her vision as it throbbed and begged; ‘Give up. Give up just for a while..’

A ball of a palm met the forehead, pressing hard, forcing it all to stay in the back of the mind. Away, Away…away..away..


‘You’re wrong…’

She sat, content in her attempt, and slid the stone and sticks lazily to the side. Scooting enough to hardly reach the straw of the comforting nest, the wooden pike rubbed and plucked it’s claws against her flesh. Success and a slow retreat. Digging out a small bowl in the dirt, praying that it was dry enough to mend a fire to wake.

She placed down the onyx stone…added the straw…snapped the branches like brittle infant bones… Left two pieces to the side and allowed the rest to canopy the dried grass. Grab one and twiddle among the straw hoping a flame to reach high. Alas, some smoke, and a fanning of a clawed hand, birthing the blaze. Grabbing the last stick from the side, slow and trying hands draw out sigils almost as old as time. Fire nurturers to help keep it alive, almost unnaturally..

'..just like I.'

The breathing stopped, the eyes flicked, and the sound of small hooves beat to the den. An instant stop, the flare of breathing in, and haste took the feet somewhere other than that den. The scent of blood was her guard, and her ears drooped ever so slightly again.


“Like I said. . .” the growl glared from it’s forced position to the dark reaches of the mind.

She closed her eyes, and let time have its way. Discomfort was coming to be normal and her body was finding certain positions less ravaging than others. So she would wait….wait until onyx had it’s fill with the flame.
She would have let her mind drift, if there was anywhere to drift to. But her mind had no interest, and settled upon nothing as it stared through the blaze. It wasn’t much, just a small licking flame, yet enough to remind her just how cold she became. Her toes curled, legs subtly retract as the tingle ran up her back. Her body sparred nothing, not even the need to warm, as its efforts were wasted on this tattered and torn. Time passed on with a numbing silence. The crackling of straw and wood moving in its own gentle violence.

Unblinking and blank, a hand reached up and graced the face. A stick slid in, like a bit in the mouth. Slowly she bit down, sliding a hand under a healthy dirt mound. She cupped the dirt within her hand, and slid it under the now scorching boulder. It should suffice, with all things in order.
She tilted back her head, drawing in as deep as a breath she can, nimble fingers curling around the pain weaving horror. She adjusted the wooden bit in her mouth, and began to count numbers that, in the end, held no amount.
Her brows furrowed as a grimace grew.


She yanked out the pike, a grunting yell soon to follow, slinging the wood somewhere far into the hollow. Blood spewed and trickled its way, hissing and sizzling in a new dismay. She pressed the onyx, brimming with heat, all the way until the flesh could meet. The wooden bit weakened, teeth crunching down, stifling yells and grunts were to sound. A face pinching, forcing self to linger. Linger until the fingers were to blister. She let the stone roll back into its pit, as gurgled breathes had their fit. Wet coughs rang and gagging ensued, a little bit of blood spewed.

She caught her breath, ragged and drawn, resting back until her own mind held a dawn. Her chest rising and falling, filling the hollow, she soon began to swallow. A knot in her throat, tight and relentless, she couldn’t help but let tears fill the distance. A distance between her indifference and her needs, pain filling in her pleas. A face now distorted in a hushing sob, a bloody hand found its spot. Upon her face, the blood it smeared as she tried to wipe away the tears.

The walls of this home now stained and bloodied, any essence of comfort now dirtied. Her sobs died..her body quaked..for sleep now came to take.


1.3.18 -- Evening

There was nothing. Not even a flicker of light within my unconscious to tell me it was going to be ok. Just the rolling wave of coldness. Gods know how long I laid there, unaware with little care. Yet when I finally opened my eyes, dark clouds were beginning to blanket the glow of the setting sun, promising another cold night. I twitched my hands to feel I was still holding onto the wood lodged through me. My body, unable to truly shift in such conditions, idled in this ‘were’ form. Grimacing, I noticed only my face changed back to that of human, which wasn’t a surprise since my body was trying to mend itself tried to use all necessary energy to such.

I continued to lay on my side, my blood under and around me becoming sticky and thick as it settled within the ground. The wounds on the left side of my upper body itched, irritated as the blood dried and caked itself to fur. My body was stiff, beyond sore and in dire need of rest and care. Yet I only stared out into the dimming woods. Had it only been a day? Maybe more… Felt a bit longer. As I closed my eyes and shifted now my whole body, I really didn’t need to bother. What was done was done, and now, for brash actions, had to face the consequences.

‘And the consequences of her…’

The thought made me open my eyes in bitter gut dropping realization, for whatever gut I still had at the moment, that Damaris had no idea what had occurred.



Damn. . .


I slowly sat myself up, an airy, raspy groan escaping my lips as I hung my head.


“Get out before more find you. . .” A gentle voice whispered within my conscious.


I turned my head to the side to the sound of far off roaring, thankfully no where close but enough for me to start staggering onto trembling legs. It was strange…there was barely ever such creatures so prevalent here in these parts. Something wasn’t correct about any of this. Head still hanging, I stared at my hands around the now stained shard of a tree through me.

‘If I pull it out, I will begin to bleed profusely once more and lose conscious. I cannot risk that with what knows wandering around…just…start walking..’

I slid a foot against the ground in an attempt to begin. I let the other foot follow in a gimping manner. A grimacing hiss and I realized this was going to be a walk pure of agonizing bliss as the wood rubbed against bone, organs and nerves alike. I forced myself on, slow, unsteady, resting quivering body on trees for a while once I reentered the forest. My sense of direction didn’t waver much thankfully in these conditions, so finding the gateway was not a difficult task. It was merely getting there and hoping to not run into any unwelcoming company which was the trick.

I made it to the chaotic zone, scrapped and torn to hell. In the moment of the skirmish, it didn’t seem that much space consuming. But standing back and actually looking and the debris and aftermath, one would think a place smashed through the woods. I analyzed for a while longer before turning my attention to shuffling towards the entrance direction.

This alone would take time that my body was certain it didn’t have. Ironically, we did. Too much time.

‘Yet not enough time to prepare to explaining if Damaris see’s me. I can’t hop to any other place at the moment, only to the place I came from to here. I’m just gonna have to hope I can evade her until I can get myself under control.’


“You know that won’t be the case. You know she will be looking for you and she will be waiting.” The gentle voice exclaimed.


I narrowed my eyes some yet refusing to halt my attempts of walking. It was right. It was not avoidable. Yet what was I to say?

I did have time to think, and I did. That’s what time was great for, thinking, even if you had no desire to. It was always there. Reminding.




1.2.18-- Very Early Morning

It was supposed to be a simple moment. Find the scourge of innocence and devour his soul to have another moment to stay one step ahead of the coiling beast that always waits. Yet some things that seem so simple on the surface tend to be more complex the deeper you scrounge around. Thus, as my life may be, immortality seems like a blessing to many. But this endless chase of inevitable agony is no gift. It’s the curse of my ceaseless fate. A fate that is always on the pretense of slaughter yet countless universes above me; The unreachable end, the light of a tunnel that grows neither farther away nor closer. I’ve come to wonder if being torn apart in hell is better than living your whole unnatural life running from something that can never be stopped. Yet, it’s days like this that reminds me why I run so feverishly into the abyss of nothingness. Maybe we will lose each other in the chase if we fall into the blackness where no light graces the rigid walls of lifelessness.


Demonax waited until the doe’s body was heavy in sleep as she gingerly plucked herself from the nest. She carefully placed the blanket around Damaris to keep her feeling secure and stared for a moment, watching the peacefulness rest upon her face. The stillness of the moment was almost irresistible to not disturb with a simple flight of a kiss. Demonax would not risk waking her up for the time had come to replenish the clock of sanity and it was something Damaris should not know.

“Oh, but she will. . .” That voice hissed around the corridors of Demonax’s mind.

She turned, walked to the entrance of her den and stared into the depth of night. She had done this for so long yet it never got easier. Only the tactics and how to find evil did. The start of the ‘mission’ was never settling. Demonax closed her eyes, and delved into the part of her that held the primal nature, drawing in its simple yet potent qualities. It was never hard to grasp, as it lingered so readily on the surface awaiting its release. Holding onto this thread within her mind, the demon walked away from the comfort of the log den and into the moon speckled floor of the forest.

Slowly claws glide down this black thread, the farther away from the warmth of the forest, the more the fingers curl in their cueing stance, gliding….gliding…. She stepped on the very edge of this seemingly “endless” forest. It wasn’t endless if you knew where the gateway was nestled, so obvious in plane sight yet no one took it past for what it was portrayed as.

The demon walked through and the world went cold. Frigid, wet air settling heavy on the quickly dampening purple fur as she emerged fully into the dull atmosphere.

The cue, and the clawed hand tugged and yanked forth on the thread and the nature tolled loud and resonating.

‘Come forth, pray, and feed on the corruption for I am in need..’

The demon arched as the popping of bones prickled the air. Seething and hissing, the body became oblong. Back hooves splaying out to canid like toes, flexing and stretching out as clawed hands rest against the clammy leaf flooring, clawing their way into the dirt. Shoulders popped and jerked into place as bones shifted. A harsher snarl glinted in the faint light of the sky. And just as quickly as it came, the body mending settled down with the hollow sounds of thudding deep within the cavern of body cavities. And there she rose, tall and iridescent. Throaty growls slipping through tangled teeth. Limbs long, defined, nimble and powerful. Her eyes lost what little depth they had as they reflected the scant light that ebbed in the dull orange glow which collided with the clouds above.

Demonax walked upright on her lanky legs, talons clutching onto a tree, bark crumbling and snapping in protest to her grip. She could feel the burn slithering through the gaps within her mind, festering…searching…resting and pointing…

There….There….Something looms…..


She stalked her way towards the pulling direction. Slow yet strong steps, arms stretched out and palms to the sky as if showing her presence off in a regal manner. A manner where only hell would understand such a courtesy. But she did not do this for the perdition or any living being. It was for the great humming vibration of existence as the energy, like spiking sound waves, crawled under her skin. Every form was different, yet this ‘were’ form held such a primal fascination, its own power seemed boundless. Demonax stopped, lifted her muzzle slow and formidable to the banal sky, inhaling deep with a cavernous rumble.

“Hunt…Survive….Devour….Kill.” The hissing voice more prominent, deep, dark, muted and mind rattling.

I will..I will..but only for this moment.

“In the end, it is all you will ever have left. . .” The voice seemed to try and grasp Demonax’s mind but she ignored it and moved, fangs parted to draw in a low hissing breathe as she slowly looked back ahead of herself, feet finding direction.

She jerked her head in a swift motion to the side as she began bounding on all fours. The world a blur and a heart of careen, the demon sped on, the pressure of the pulling gradually growing the more space she closed between her and the target. A drumming in her head bellowed as she could feel her skin tingle as she tore the earth towards her prey.

Any moment…any moment for the strike…



Demonax was swift, so she used shock combat with precision hits to take down her victims. That’s if all her victims were the same size or smaller for she could barrel into them and snap their necks. Yet as she burst through the vegetation, keen and quick eyes finding her exact spots of contact, her mind froze as something far larger loomed, startled and now tempered. A four legged disaster easily six times her size looking over to her, nostrils flaring as it sniffed. It’s face was a harshly mangled resemblance of a crocodile crowned with horns of a ram and it’s body of that of a bear. However, that description only waters it down as various arms squirmed along it’s back, it’s decaying skin hanging in tatters in various locations. To stop the motion of her advance would mean being pummeled to the ground, so she ran harder, trying to be quicker than the creatures reaction time. The more ground Demonax gained, the brute stood on two legs, now towering menacingly letting out a gurgling growl. The demon dropped to her side and slid under the beast as it tried to slam its front feet down on her. Sliding back on her feet, she projectiled herself into a tree, climbing up and quickly turning her attention back around to the brute. The beast turned their upper body around and let a sickly roar out at her.

‘This is not what I was looking for! I am not prepared for this!’ Demonax thought frantically. ‘This was a goddamn trap!’


“No,” that rattling voice came again. “This was what you seeked. Something evil to devour and here it is.”


The powerful swipe of the beasts tail broke any attempt to argue as the tree snapped loudly and came crashing to the ground. Demonax leaped back to the muddy soil and backed into the shadow of the tree line.

‘This will at least slow them down just a bit—‘

Just as fast as the thought sprang, the beast came stampeding in. The trees did not phase the massiveness of the brute nor slow down it’s rampage. Instead, it made Demonax have to evade not only the harsh thrashing of the beasts head and paws, but the major tree debris being slung in every direction. The commotion made it hard to exactly know what movement the creature was making. All she could hear was the beast roaring, the cascade of broken trees, claws raking across bark and the hellish turmoil in her mind.


Shut up! I can’t hear!


Abandoning her sense of hearing, her sight was not much better. The now wall of fallen trees with their quivering needles from the constant pounding and thrashing blocked her view as she laid low and scanned about. The rusty flesh came back into her sight but merely just the tail, colliding into a tree above her, forcing her to relocate as the tree smashed into the ground right behind her heels. She found her way back under the brutes feet yet this time, no way to evade. With barely a hint of hesitation, she leaped onto the beasts side, clinging and making her way up. The beast was sensitive, she noted, as they jerked and flailed around, trying to grab at her. Each time she managed to dodge and positioned herself where the arms on it’s back and the ones up front would have a hard time reaching. She mauled into the sensitive area of the back of the head, tearing as many chunks out as she could, swallowing some whole to not make this a total loss. She may not be able to completely take this beast down in this circumstance, but she could still at least achieve her goal. So she fed, swift evades at swiping paws as she anchored herself back to tearing flesh away.

“Yes, feed! Feed on their flesh and feed on their agony!” The voice clamored in the front of her mind, almost muting out the yowls of pain as the brute now thrashed it’s neck about.

More…more…make it last…make it last..

She was lost in her growing desire and found the beast seeming to fall back. Her eyes glinted and noticed a tree, branches shaved off and now leaving sharp spear like pikes incoming in their direction. She went to evade and jump onto another tree nearby when an arm that wreathed on the creatures back, snatched her leg. Growling in distress, she tried to yank her leg away, but the time grew thin, and impact was inevitable.



Shit—



She collided and felt the brokenness of the tree spear through her stomach yet the beast kept falling, and as she clawed at the pike through her abdomen to attempt escape once more, she felt more hands grab onto her as the tree, herself and the brute tumbled down together. Thankfully the tree rolled a bit to the side as it fell allowing the brunt of the brutes weight somewhere beside Demonax, yet the tree snapped off it’s weapon and she tumbled across the ground, free of the hands and tree yet not free from the pain. The pike was wedged firm into her as she rested on knees and elbows, hands around the wood, blood steadily starting to drizzle from her jaws. Numbness was setting in, and her thoughts were slowing. In Demonax’s peripheral, she saw the beast heave itself up, shaking it’s head. Smelling her blood made her easier to find, so when she turned her pained but adrenaline rushing gaze towards the creature, it loudly exclaimed its finding of her and briskly pursued.

As quickly as she could, Demonax staggered up to only be snatched and brought to the brutes wretched breath and rotting razored teeth. She flung a hand out and gripped onto the rim of the beasts nostril, yanking hard. Not detouring the beast away, it took a strong gnaw on her. Painful roaring and a very ruthless rip, Demonax managed to tear half of the brute’s nose clean off. Thankfully this detoured them yet not in the way she hoped. Instead she found herself being tossed like a rag doll through the forest, the speed of the throw only intensifying the tumbling over and through trees where her body thudded grotesquely into whatever being in her way. She skidded into and almost over the edge of the lip of a cliff. The mountainous location, thankfully, had it’s benefits, and this one being useful more now than ever. Her limbs would barely cooperate as she struggled to keep herself from the very edge, yet when she saw the lumbering body still on her case, she let herself haunch over and wait.


She slowed the time in her mind. Calming her heart, the gripping of the branch more vibrant, the slow pounding and quivering of flesh coming towards her. Advancing…opening their jaw…..leaping…

Demonax fell flat and let herself roll off the edge. Large paws racked at the air around her as she saw the beast being flung through the air. She grabbed the edge, smacking into the rocky wall with a painful snarl yet hung and watched the beast fall into the trees far below, hoping among the loud crackling of impact that they would be impelled like she was yet with a fatal punch.

The demons back feet scratched at the wall as she lurched herself back up. Just as the half of her body was up, the edge gave way, forcing eyes to become wide and a fanged grimace to appear as she clawed at the breaking rocks. She fell for a moment yet snatched the side of the rigid wall again, feeling her weakened shoulder muscle tear and the pike crashing into the wall forcing every ounce of breathe in her to leave.

‘It’d be…so much easier to just..fall.’


“And endure more pain?” the voice snarled. “You’ve become weak minded and pathetic. . .”


It was right. If she fell, and if that thing down their somehow survived, it’d only make her suffer greater. So she gradually made her way back up, looking down every once in a while to see blood trailing all over the rocky wall. She slid herself back on solid ground, breathes heavy and gurgling as blood flooded her lungs and throat. She stayed, unmoving on her side as her eyes, losing their fire, blazed through the path mowed down by the beast. Her senses were fading, as all she smelt and tasted was the intense coppery tang of her blood, hear the ringing rush within her ears and the blurring of her vision. . .

Who would have thought my night would have ended in me cradling the object through my gut while wallowing in my own blood. It was supposed to be a simple moment. Find the scourge of innocence and devour his soul to have another moment to stay one step ahead of the coiling beast that always waits. Yet, instead of me throwing the final blow, I was dealt one instead. Thus, as my life may be, immortality seems like a blessing to many. But for me, intertwined with the agenda of hell, I can’t die. Yet I can wish to, as agony takes me beyond the odds of survival. These are the moments I realize why I feverishly run into the nothingness. Maybe one day I can rid myself of this torment.







12.27.17

Demonax awoke slowly from nothingness. She gazed out before her and saw the vast hollow of the old log she was calling home with the small thriving lush patch at the end, glowing in the vibrancy from the sun’s rays that slithered through a small gap at the ceiling of the hollow.

She took a slow breathe and closed her eyes, taking in the earthy smell of the hollow, the still ripe fruit in the bag, the budding gardenia where the vegetation glistened and Damaris’s scent. Her eyes opened slowly once more as she recalled yesterdays events.

Demonax didn’t intend for the situation to unravel like it did. She blamed her reminiscing of her past that resurfaced the neglected barren hole that was within her. It craved for affection. It begged to be mended. Its persuasion got the best of her, and she let herself caress and show the doe possibly too much of her vulnerability. Damaris didn’t react out of horror or fear. She welcomed it, intrigued by such a foreign thing that was greeting her innocence.

The demon exhaled, adjusting herself to lay on her side within her straw nest, staring off into the dark ceiling of the log hollow. That was the main underlying problem she had. She didn’t want Damaris to get attached. She didn’t want the doe to get hurt. She.. . wouldn’t be able to bear something like that again if something unimaginable happened to Damaris. But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the sweetness of the doe’s lips…her gentle exhales and her desire to actually react back needily to Demonax. The demon wanted nothing more to claim and devour her innocence for her own. But, was it truly wise to? Is the need to feel love and mend the void in her heart truly masking logic and realism?

Demonax got to her feet, finding the hollow stifling now, and emerged into the white world outside. Her feet crunched down in the snow as she embarked to the pond, filing and sorting her thoughts as her lungs and nostrils stung from the crisp air. As she grew closure to the pond, she avoided the large group that clambered around as their breathes billowed about in the winter air. Demonax took a few drinks from the pond before deciding to wade chest deep into the frigid water. Such things barely bothered her anymore, but she was aware of the harsh temperature. Yet she did not care, welcoming her mind to numb as well as her body.





12.25.17


Later that night . . .

Demonax spent most of her day roosting high upon the ruins, now considerably desensitized to the cold wind. She wasn’t as shaken up as earlier in the day, but still a tinge off her usual demeanor. She made her way down, with more care than she did flinging herself up before, and trotted her way to the pond. Her muscles were stiff yet the trotting was proving useful in loosening and warming them up so by the time she got to the waters edge, her muscles were lax and content. Demonax leaned down and drank the refreshingly crisp water as her eyes scanned the horizon of the overhang. It seemed oddly quiet. Ironic, considering she spent the whole day tucked away in the canopy of the ruins. She hazard everyone was having their dealings and joyous celebration in warm places.

She, herself, did not feel warm. She felt brittle, winded and finally able to think solidly on all four feet. Her gaze idled over the melancholy dullness of the ponds glassy surface. . .

Hm. . .



Early morning. . .

It was a rushing drop. A sense of collision and a fine line of dream and reality. A blood hurricane with thick screams far too familiar. A panic and a deep rooted fear of a knowing that escape was not possible no matter the want washed over in a harsh wave. The screams were colliding upon one another like flesh on flesh, mangled and agony stricken. All Demonax could do was tend to cling onto some sense of unknown stability as everything whirled about her, disorienting, limb weakening and in a feverish rush. A fragment of a hell that haunted her every step. She made sure to always be a step ahead so it never stepped in front of her to tear her apart, limb by limb, driving her mad. She could feel the darkness rising , attempting its descend from the chaos upon her. The screams only became louder…louder….louder…deafening.

“Wake up…” She demanded herself as the darkness thickened and a deep humming shook the very fabric of her existence.

“You HAVE to wake up.” She demanded once more, with tension ebbing through her body as she continued to cling as the scene became dizzy. The glint of mangled teeth peeked through the grotesque frequency.

“WAKE UP RIGHT NOW!” Fierce panic, a resounding rushing. The maw so refined in a hellish sheen, devouring the sky as the screams became a unison, roaring through the crackling sky.


Then darkness. Nothing. A split second of silence.


Demonax jolted harshly awake, rising to her feet quicker than her senses and mind could catch up to. Her muscles vibrated with tension and her breath hushed out ruggedly. Her vision came to. She was still in the forest.

“Ok…” she said on a soft and shaking exhale.

This wasn’t common. Yet when the beast uncoiled and raised it’s head to pursue it’s prey, it was never a comforting moment. How could it be, when she was indeed, the prey. It was a silly thought, considering her reputation to the flesh, but it was true and it humbled her to the reality of her situation.

Continuing to realize she was planted stiff leggedly in the forest, she relaxed a bit. She was no longer within the great oak from the night before, where the warmth was tender and allowed opulent rest from the cold. She was, instead, by a random tree. Uncertain about how she got there, she tried to retrace her memory but she couldn’t get past her dream. Recalling it numbed her mind to where nothing became relevant. Just the plumes of her breath was all her mind cared to acknowledge and allowed her to zone.

She stood, frozen in her hectic thoughtlessness, her feet decided to do the thinking without her consciousness. Where she went, head low yet senses high, she did not know. She walked to only stop at where she was the night before. Glancing up, she saw the large candle filling the hollow of the mighty oak with stifling heat. But even with the candles vibrant flame, it all seemed so cold. A husk of an ideal, once so vibrant but now just clinging on to the little it had left. Clinging to just it’s dutiful purpose. She stared at this now dull natured comfort and found that she was turning away and wandering off.

The thin layer of snow that settled crunched in soft protest under her feet, giving her something to drown in to sort her thoughts.

What spurred this? Why now?

Yet she knew. She was being too quiet. It was searching for her and trying so hard to flush her out, make her weak and vulnerable so the finishing blow would be easy. This unholy war would never be satisfied. She would never surrender and the darkness would never give up. She had as much time as it did which was forever.

Her struggling thoughts came back to where she was which was the ruins where candles lined every inch of the place. For some reason, the small yet abundant candles seemed more welcoming and warm that the single large goliath of them.

Not much time passed as she got as comfortable as she could at the ruins when Jude, and all his innocence, came running up. Demonax, startled, about took out multitude of candles and Jude right along with them from whipping her head up. Jude, now startled himself, still went to lay by her. Demonax greeted him stiffly, and resumed to be his heater. Jude most likely felt this was no good time to be around Demonax, figuring that there were other spooks around, given her nature, and left her to be her own mess.

Company was likely not ideal. She needed a place that barely anyone could get to. So, she looked up. The highest part of the ruins, secluded and almost unreachable. Demonax barely finished her thought before she was already climbing up, sharp claws digging into the crumbling structure, heaving herself up with relative ease. It was drafty but she would settle. And so she did, tucking her feet in close and staring through the canopies now eye level.

It was the earliest hours of Christmas. . .A nightmare. Pointless. Cold. Numbing.





12.22.17

Demonax awoke with a subtle jolt which in turn queued her eyes to open. The mini spell casted on her last night worn away it's presence in which she was grateful for. Having other magic thrown at her that was not her own made her nauseous and sometimes, depending on the intensity, could unravel her mimicking natures; A glitch that caused such horrifying scenes for any unwary audience. De Drinkplaats came to mind with its dreadful barrier and a twinge of skin prickling caused a subtle wrinkle to form upon her muzzle stirring her to get up and stretch away the discomforting thought.

She stood with a stillness while the wind mingled among her short purple locks. Demonax felt a bit cold and distant which, to her surprise, irked her. It was an odd sensation of familiarity, a comfort zone that she once prided herself in after needing not the company of others. Just in the same stale breath of a motion, it subsequently allowed a mild qualm of sadness. She was growing fond of the company she tended to have specifically with Damaris, Jude, and now, Tig. Her thoughts found there way on considering how each was so different. Damaris tended to hang around a specific buck that Damaris had dubbed 'Irving'. She couldn't help but keep an open eye to the frequency of their gatherings. She was glad that Damaris was finding new friends, but despondency teased at Demonax's mind. Demonax was old, in terms of how long she has been around. She may not show any signs in it besides her manners and knowledge, but it dampened more than one could imagine. Demonax was more of a teacher and interesting marvel to Damaris and, blind luck of intrigue, to think something Damaris had innocent curiosity in Demonax could possibly hang around such a young doe. Demonax didn't think she would even entertain such a thing, a youngster clamoring about with questions not quiet passing through their lips but heavily evident upon their glinting eyes. But alas she tolerated it. She'd be lying if she said she didn't, in the end, enjoy their company.
Yet Damaris's company seemed less frequent. Surely more entertained by more like minded individuals not caught up in the ancient webs of time passed.

Her mind drifted back to the forest as her mood began solidifying into an undesirable melancholy that weighted in the cradle of her chest. Her feet moved with little purpose as she went to a place she'd recently found that she was growing fond of. As she settled back down among the flowers and resting against the log, she knew soon restlessness would set in just as harshly and gradual as the winters coming. She would have to embark soon for a time to lose herself to the primitive nature of her misfortunes. It was a ritual she was always displeasing of but she had not true say in the matter if she wanted to keep her sanity. So she sat and meditated and the forest drowned away into the pits of her mind.

Later . . .

Was woken by the uneven padding of Damaris who came bearing a gift. She was honestly not expecting anything from anyone but the key necklace was truly wonderful. After warm exchanges of words they settled back down.

12.17.17

The days grow shorter and my breath chilled. The veil stretches far over the sky, overcasting
the sun and giving break from the constant rays. The chatter of bird song seems more
solemn as the mild fret of winter haunts their voices just as I haunt the corridors of
my mind with a stillness.

My mind is of static and screams of the damned yet quiet all the same.
The sense of sound is more felt within the hollows of the bones that prickles
the nerve endings right under the skin.

I find solitude as this season creeps farther across the land.



11.18.17

The days bear their weight.
I nestle in solitude more than usual. More than usual... Used to be always.
Maybe it will be again. Hard to here. Still can find those places no one takes a notice at.
That's fine.



10.30.17

Quiet. The willow waltzes on the breeze. The water is still, and so am I, before the hunt.