“Truth...” she said in a deep disbelief. He stood upright, preparing for a fight, he’d seen her when she was one with the hunt. The ink black, running her arms, crossing her chest, and taking the tourmaline eyes to make them as dark as the pit itself. It was part of her, as much as Hell was part of him.
He kept his hands at his sides, loose and ready, but in a non threatening gesture his palms were held toward her, showing the scars left after his body had been ripped apart, and put together again so many times he’d lost count. Everything was always fixed, and he was put together better than he ever had been. No marks on his near perfect flesh, except for the jagged crosses of his own design. The last laugh of a sadistic maker.
“Sidonie, please...it’s Greg,” he started a slow move toward her. He’d watched her for two nights, he’d seen her sit up in sweat soaked sheen, searching, scared, and confused. He knew, as he could nearly see that she was at a severe loss, and after all he’d seen her slowly losing her mind looking for him. That was the real Hell, watching the ones you love while they suffered agonizing loss and defeat. “I know The Hunt calls you, I can feel it too, but feel me. You know it’s me, and not a trick.”
He took a step toward her, slowly. Though there was a spark of recognition, there was also the dark pull against her. Something was wanting her to run wild, out of control, hunt something...no, someone that was calling to her.
“I don’t know where you are going, or planning on going, but stop...please, and come to me.”
In the pit...
“She woke with a scream,” He said quietly, peering down into the cell, then back at his new assistant. “It is the first sound she’s made since she’s been here, even when The Master has attempted to torture her.”
“The Master has tortured a child?” The new assistant walked to the overlook, and peered down at the girl who was now staring back at them. “She seems...harmless.”
He reached out with a massive hand and pulled the much smaller assistant back by one of his onyx horns that protruded from the side of his greenish head.
“Do not let her appearance fool you, Ursef. That child is dangerous, and her body count has risen to seven now, including one of the Mid-Echelons.”
“Pardon me for not believing you Belphegor, but I do not see her as being able to do that. Mid-Echelons are a step under what I can do,” Ursef boasted, looking offended that a mere child, a female at that could wield that sort of power, but he hadn’t considered that the Demon of Ingenious Discoveries and Wealth was overseer of her.
“You’d do better to mind your forked tongue in my presence, Knave. You seem to forget your place, and whom you are speaking to.” Belphegor straightened to his full height, a move of intimidation. “That child has the blood of The Master, and that of an Unseelie Court Fae, all indications point toward a powerful, and higher up at that.” He said proudly as he glanced down in curiosity as the child began to pace in her cell, looking like a caged animal. “Her age may be a hindrance, and most physical power increases with puberty, she already shows great promise.”
“You lie,” Ursef spat as he too looked over at the pacing girl. “That creature is not part of The Master, The Destroyer...he would not allow something that weak to live!”
While they watched, the child’s fingers at first started to turn black. She glanced toward them with fear at first, then a nearly feral smile crossed her face. The fingers of her right hand then began to crawl with a dark energy, much like their own. A quick look upward at her captors, and one of Ursef’s horns was snapped from his head and shoved deep into his chest. Belphegor stepped back quickly, and pulled the lesser demon with him, quickly removing the broken horn from his body, and allowing him to start the healing process.
“She has her Grandfather’s temper, Ursef. I should have warned you.”
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