[past] And you are?

Rage boiled inside her, through ever vein, every artery, pulsing out from a heart that beat faster in time to the staccato words the demon spoke. As much as Eithne loathed him, she was at the same time completely, and utterly fascinated by him. And the small bit of sexual excitement she experienced thinking about how pretty his face would look, contorted, turning blue, her hands around his throat, thumbs slowly pressing every deeper into flesh until she felt the snap of the small bone there, until she felt his trachea collapse -- well, that was neither here nor there. He was a demon, there was nothing wrong with feeling satisfaction dreaming of murdering him. It would come, one day. Not soon enough, but one day she would feel triumphant as she watched the life fade from those smarmy eyes.

I'm not interested in you stroking my ego's cock right now, demon. Eithne quipped back when he mentioned knowing the feeling. What the hell did he know about it anyway, this was all she knew. The hunt, the kill.. she was nothing else but the weapon she had been made into. And the sickness inside her that enjoyed it was yet another burden for her to bear, the deep seated pleasure that those around her would never see her coming, never live to tell the tale of her. And then the demon was trying to coerce her with pretty words, trying to exert his will over her, and something inside her snapped at a leash, raw, primal, begging to be let go for just a small moment. Something flickered behind her eyes, I am a legend. And then it was gone. Only the self-righteous assurance that what she was doing was right, and just the only malice that continued to seep from those dark eyes.

A shiver ran down her spine as she finally pulled those bloodied hands from her rat-nest of hair, arms dropping to her side as she realized that, in this exact moment, she was under no threat from the demon. Not in so much that she would die here and now, but perhaps later, years from now, when he had wrenched every last bit of usefulness from her. She had missed the chance, and now Eithne was going to be saddled with this particular demon for years to come -- a thought that did nothing to stop the images of killing him slowly from dancing in her mind's vision, nothing to stop the low curling heat in her abdomen that told her everything she needed to know. She was trapped with him now. We leave in the morning for this Hollow Keep.

And she thought better of trying to linger very much longer. She could make her camp, plunge into clean water to get all the blood off her, and then try and sleep behind wards that probably would do nothing to keep her safe from this particular demon. And just what am I to call you, then?

@Lustara