The barefoot children splashed in the creek, laughing and chattering, shaded by the ancient towering black-barked twin trees, dark leaves rustling much quieter than would be expected.
The villagers knew to avoid this place; travelers would soon hear rumors - bloody rituals, mutilated animals, shadows that swallowed light & flesh alike.
The demon watched lazily from his hammock. The children were safer here than the homes they had escaped.
A wide eyed waif stared up at the demon; wary and uncertain. The demon remained motionless, waiting for the child to speak. By the creek, the other children continued to play, untroubled and boisterous.
Emboldened by this fact, the waif asked,"You're a demon, why do you care for us?"
The demon's irreversibly damaged wings trembled slightly. "Because I understand what it's like to be mistreated and forsaken by one's creators," he whispered.
