Part 4

I couldn’t kill her at first of course.  She was my daughter after all, and despite how strongly I felt it had to be done, it took much to screw up my courage and take that step.  And then of course once I prepared to do it, I had to plan it all.  The how, why, when, who would clean up afterwards, it was all quite tedious.

In the end I decided to go the straight and simple route.  The weapon was easy enough to come by, for all things made in hell are made to kill those who dwell in the realms.  I stabbed her in the heart, sending her into the demonic equivalent of a coma.  While she was out, I had the twins drink her blood and drain her dry.  Then I cut off her head.  It’s the only way to truly kill a demon and ensure they remain dead.  Destroy the head and heart of a mortal creature, they die.  Destroy the head and heart of an immortal, and you merely incapacitate them for a time for even with those wounds a demon can still heal and come back so long as they keep their blood.

Blood is everything as you know. It is strength, it is life, and without it not even immortals can survive.  And with demons, when we take the life force of another demon into ourselves so completely, we take in all that the other being was, melding with it and tying that life force and all the strength accompanying it with our own.  In such a way does one become stronger and more powerful.  The older and more battle weary a demon, the stronger they are for the more demonic foes they have vanquished and taken their strength.

The method is simple, the theory behind it….less so.

So while my hand was the one that dealt the damage, the younglings were the ones to reap from it for they drank from and of her and gained her strength, and my father congratulated me.  Sly, smug, devious bastard that he was.  He left her alive on purpose, for a reason.  She was to be my final test, and I apparently passed it with flying colors.

Demons treat their spawn as chattel, fodder, unnecessary and unworthy of any kind of attention until they prove their strength, usually by killing another.  Then they are called younglings, worth keeping half an eye on for they have turned out not to be completely useless.  After a few more centuries, they are upgraded to yearlings, strong enough to survive and worth something to train to become full grown demons.

Mortals obviously are more attached to their young than demons, and I was no exception for I was born to and raised as a mortal.  My father knew this, for he was able to see into me to some degree though much of my soul remained hidden from him thanks to the demon blood he gave me.  And so he allowed her to live with every thought and intention that I be the one to take her life.  He considered it to be my final test, the act that showed him that I had been fully corrupted and could be brought back to the mortal world to fulfill his vision.

And he was right, in a fashion.  I was corrupted.  The things I had seen and done to survive in hell…I don’t think I will ever be able to scrub my soul clean.  But what my father didn’t know eventually killed him.  If I hadn’t been born and raised mortal, with mortal ideas and values, his plan might have worked.  But as it was I had friends and family here on the mortal realm, and it was them that kept me from going mad and losing myself entirely to the darkness and insanity of hell.  I kept them in my heart and they helped me to keep my mind, if not my very soul.

Yeah, go ahead and laugh.  Don’t think I don’t see those smirks you’re giving each other.  I realize exactly how corny that sentiment is, but it’s true.  It was only the thought of those who took me in, cared for me, and called me ‘sister’ that kept my father from achieving his goal.

Oh and what a goal it was.  My father intended for me to return here and kill those I considered kith and kin, and once they were dispatched I was to continue on and wipe out the rest of your species.  Rather apropos don’t you think?  Having me wipe you the very race that took me in and raised me up?  Either that or its irony.  I can never remember which.

Surprised are you? Well don’t be.  You should have guessed by now that your battles against your enemies are more than a mere race war.  It’s one of the keys to the apocalypse itself.

Don’t get me wrong, humans are the ultimate deciding factor in the when, where and how of the end of the world, but there are so many other things to take into consideration that affect the humans in making their decisions, and wiping out your species is one of them.  It’s set to speed up the doomsday clock considerably for your enemies feed on humans.  And if there is nothing to hold them in check, what is to stop them from running wild and killing those humans who are important to the fate of the world.

Think of it this way.  A woman is in danger, threatened by your enemies.  Should you intervene, her bloodline will rise up to save humanity from another great plague, the likes of which has not been seen since the Middle Ages.  But if you are not there to save her and she dies her descendants never exist. Mortal lives are little more than dominoes in terms of fate.  Knock on down and the rest follow.  Take one out or add one in and the collapse is slowed, or stopped altogether.

So, long story short, I finally learned of the master plan my father had been concocting for millennia.  Breed, train, and raise up a demon powerful enough to wipe out an entire race.  Needless to say, things didn’t work out exactly as he planned.

Part 6