[b]GREEN-EYED FRIEND[/b]

There was a storm raging outside. Greg was sitting in the corner of his room, listening the roars of the heaven and looked at how the waterdrops were pounding against the barred window. Occasionally flashing lightnings would provide some light for a split second for Greg's otherwise dark room. He chose to be intertwined in darkness, for it gave some comfort for him. He scratched his stubble beard a little, thinking that it might be a little too long and should be shaved, whenever he was allowed to have a razor in his hand again. But now, things were however they were and he tried his best to just live in the moment and relax. He hadn't slept well in few days, so he was feeling rather tired, wondering would he be able to drift into the land of dreams – even though his resting hours were filled with nightmares. But maybe now…

He lifted his body from the corner and stood up, his sluggish feet taking him to his bed through the cold floor. Greg sat on the surprisingly cozy bed, considering where he was, letting out a sigh. He pulled the sheets aside, laid down taking comfortable position and then pulled the blanket to cover his body. He yawned a bit and closed his eyes. He wished for sleep to come soon.

But of course, Greg wasn't that lucky.

He could hear the shadows moving in the ceiling. Even without looking, he knew that a creature was slithering from the dark corner of the ceiling to floor, making faint rustling sound. Greg's mood darkened immediately. He had hoped that he could have fallen asleep before the appearance of the thing, but it looked like this was another night of no rest for him.

The rustling sound had stopped, indicating that the creature had found a spot where to stay. Angrily, Greg rose his body from the bed and looked at the arriver.

He was a strange being indeed. He had a head of a dragon, equipped with glowing pale green eyes that seemed like they could stare right at your soul – which wasn't far-fetched in this case. The head was covered in black fur, going to his neck as well, and from there it made a line along the back, proceeding all the way to the bushy tail. There were few odd appendages that resembled spider legs sticking out of his back. Unlike the back of him, the rest of the body was hairless. It was very thin and had a sickly blue color. Around the chest it seemed like that there were some thin plates. Probably the most disturbing feature was the limbs: they were very much like those of a human, but the creature was always moving with them on all fours in a shuddering way.

This was Isskali, the reason why Greg was locked up in a mental hospital. It was because only Greg could see and hear him, so in the eyes of the outsiders, he seemed to be crazy man. Unfortunately, Isskali wasn't the creation of his head. The creature was real.

“My, what delicious souls we have in here”, Isskali spoke with a voice that felt like it was coming from a void.

His long tongue slipped out of his mouth for a second, revealing the hook on it. With this hook he could snatch the souls from people. He could infiltrate the chest of his victims and pull the soul out of their body. Such thing wasn't pretty to look at, unfortunately Greg knew that. Sometimes Greg wondered why Isskali hadn't taken his soul already, but perhaps he wouldn't be as much fun to toy with if he was soulless. But who knows, maybe he would do that in the end.

“Can you please let me sleep at least one night?” Greg angrily muttered to the creature.

“Very well”, Isskali consented, much to Greg's surprise. “I am in a good mood today and shall leave you be.”

The man shuddered a little bit. He knew why was that. The poor people who had been locked away in this place carried tormented souls, which was the greatest delicacy to demonic creatures like Isskali. Isskali wasn't a regular soul-devourer, he was something far superior. He was an ancient being that had slumbered for thousands of years until Greg's sister had accidentally unleashed him during one of her archeological expeditions. Isskali had latched on her, making her slip into madness, ultimately resulting in her committing a suicide. Then the creature had taken Greg as his target.

And this is where the things were now.

Greg laid down once more, closing his eyes. Oh, how heavy his eyelids had felt. It didn't take much time for the sleep to come to him. Before his consciousness faded away, he could hear Isskali humming a derisive lullaby that would surely bring nightmares to torture him.



[b]SPECIAL BOY[/b]

There had been quite a heavy rain soaking Olden Shadow Town. But as the darkness came, it had stopped. Dark clouds were still lingering in the sky, completely blocking the heaven, the wind being too weak to be able to blow the clouds away. The town was wet and cold and dim. At this late hour, and because of the bad weather, there weren't that much people wandering in the streets. Mostly those who were seeking company from bars were on the move, but of course, there was always some shady individuals jumping from shadow to shadow like street cats. It was best to not question their ways.

In this late hour, Hex was one of those who dared to tread on the streets alone around the borders of the town. Confident and with a smug grin on his face, he walked in violet light of neon signs like he owned the place. Not having even a single worry in his little world, he strolled through the streets. After all, he wasn't like everyone else. He was special, with special powers. He had understood at a very young age that he was different. However, he had to become adolescent before he fully realized that he was better than others. Then he had to cut ties with everyone close to him, for they didn't understand. But his life was better now. He had broken the chains that had confined him – the chains that were made by ordinary, weak people. Now he was the master of his fate.

Hex grinned arrogantly at anyone who walked past him. Their faces were often visited by a puzzled look and they would then shake their heads, as if that would help their minds to get rid of this weird signal that the teenager had transmitted. It was like Hex was trying actively to seek a confrontation with people, but they didn't really pay that much attention to him.

Though, that was bound to happen at some point.

A group of three young individuals showed up around a corner and turned to walk to Hex's direction. Their paths were going to collide. Two of them were teen-aged boys and one was a demon, who probably was young as well. Hex stopped his going and waited for the trio to come closer to him. He was wearing a smug grin on his face and this, of course, provoked the three buddies.

“What are you smirking at?” one of the boys asked defiantly as their group stopped just a couple of meters away from Hex.

“'Cause I'm thinking how easy it'd be to kick your assess”, Hex replied, making a threatening gesture by punching his palm.

“Oh yeah?” the same boy said. “Do the math, idiot! There's three of us and only one of you!”

The trio started to get prepared for a fight, all taking positions that were supposed to be intimidating. In Hex's eyes they looked really silly and he let out a short laughter, which provoked the trio even more.

“I think I'll be fine”, he commented.

He raised his hand and, in that instant, a crimson flame engulfed it. Bafflement found its way into the faces of the three individuals – they hadn't expected anything like this, not even the demon. The flame grew even larger and Hex made a sudden move, a magical projectile in a shape of a crescent moon dashed through the air and hit all of the three group members. They all whimpered from pain, their bodies writhing. Hex looked down on them. They were nothing. They were nothing but maggots.

“Let's get out of here!”

Holding their aching stomachs, the trio stumbled to get moving, pain still burning in their bodies. Hex smiled contently while following with his gaze how the trio hurried to get away from him. Letting out a pleased sigh, Hex then decided to continue his journey as well.

What he didn't know was that shadows had eyes; their gaze aimed right at him, feeling hungry for his power.



[b]ONE-WINGED ANGEL[/b]

Consciousness was gradually forming. It was like he had been in a deep sleep and was currently waking from it. His eyelids felt heavy, way too heavy for him to be able to open his eyes. But even so, he knew that he was surrounded by darkness – perhaps he was in a void of some sort? He tried to move his limbs, but it was very arduous deed. There was some sort of matter around him, preventing him from moving too much. It was almost like he was trapped in a womb. However, such thing didn't feel bad. Actually, it was quite the opposite. Somehow, he felt warm and safe. Because of this, there was not even a bit of dread in his heart. What a strange thing to have… heart… It was like it had started beating just moments ago. He already felt the burden, but also love that he could share with someone he cared.

Some time passed – just few moments or even days, he couldn't tell – when he sensed something else. There was something else in his chest, something that wasn't his heart. It was his soul. That was when he fully discovered the power of his mind and personality. The soul felt like an anchor, he was getting pulled by it. But where he was going? He didn't fight back, he was too curious, and let the magical pull guide him through the void.

Eventually he started to feel that the environment was changing around him. He could move his limbs better now, though there was still mild resistance. He could even open his eyes and as he did so, he opened them for the very first time in his life. He was surrounded by something red and strangely gelatinous. There was some bright white light shining in a shape of rectangle ahead of him. Slightly painstakingly he gave a glance behind him, but there was nothing but the red matter, although darker. Where to go from here was an obvious choice. He turned his head back to the direction of the light and began his journey to reach it. With moves that resembled swimming, he got closer and closer, the pull in his soul helping him. And when he was just inches away from it, he stretched his arm trying to reach the light. His hand went through it, coming out of different plane of existence. Soon the rest of his body followed – and dropped against something hard.

The light had blinded him for a little while. He blinked few times and eventually got his sight back. He began to look around him, trying to register where he was, cranking his body up from the floor. He was in an odd house. From what he could tell in this spot, it was very spacious and had long hallways, but mostly it was strange because of the paintings. There were paintings everywhere and their themes were mostly dark. There were few with vibrant colors as well, of course. Whoever had painted them was clearly very skilled. He took a glance behind him, wanting to see where he had come from.

There was just a painting behind him. The frames were golden and gorgeous. It had pleasant and warm colors of yellow and orange like a sunset sky and there were also some soft clouds painted on it. But it felt so empty. It was like something was missing from it. His eyes wandered to the bottom of the artwork and he noticed a plate.

“Ivory.”

He stared at it for a little while. What did that mean? Apparently, it was the name of this painting for some reason, but he couldn't really understand why. He decided to not dwell in it too much, shaking his head. That was also when he finally took a look at himself. He was completely naked, which, understandably, made him feel uncomfortable. On the left side of his body, there were some odd purple markings on his skin. What was the meaning of them, he had no clue. He also realized that he had a single wing on his back. But why only one? Being a bit confused by his own appearance, and wanting to know better what his situation was, he started to take a tour around the house of art.

The place was indeed large. He wandered through many rooms and hallways, all of them filled art. But he hadn't encountered a single person, yet. He thought that this was a bit strange. It didn't seem like that the house was abandoned. There was even food left in the kitchen. So, where was everybody?

He got his answers from the second floor of the house.

He managed to find his way into a bedroom where a gruesome sight waited for him. He got immediately stunned as he registered the body of a young woman hanging from a noose. She was beautiful with black hair and pale skin. When he managed to compose himself, he noticed that there was a hand-written note resting in her eerie shadow. A suicide note? A bit reluctantly, he walked to next of her hanging corpse and picked up the paper.

Reading it gave him a somewhat understanding of what had happened here. The note was clearly written by someone broken from their mind, so bits of it didn't seem to make much sense to him. But he did comprehend enough.

Her name was Ebony. She had been a talented artist and lived here on her own. According to her, her life had been filled with anguish, humiliations and betrayals, mostly inflicted by men. Men are filth, so she had said. She couldn't take it anymore and painted her last painting, salvaging these emotions into the work of art, and then committed suicide.

“Ivory, you're the filthiest and most treacherous of them all! You may lure hearts with your angelic face, but I know you're the worst and I hate you with burning passion! May you suffer like how you made me suffer!”

The last part was very unnerving, shivering his soul. Was he… was he Ivory? If so, what had he done to this woman to spark such hatred? Was there a previous life he had lived and was unaware of?

One thing was for sure: he needed to investigate this matter further, and unravel the mysteries of the house.



[b]ARRANGEMENT[/b]

A black sky was hanging over Olden Shadow Town. It was dark and threatening, almost like it was ready to crash down and crush everyone below. Murky clouds covered most of it, smothering the heaven along with pollutions. This was a perfect time for those who carried black hearts to be out, doing their shady deeds. Common people knew to stay away from such folks. This was the time for underworld's temporary reign, after all. When the dawn would come, they would retreat back into the shadows, waiting for the next nightfall. So was the cycle in this town.

In the one of the Olden Shadow Town's darkest alleys, Chandler the demon was currently dashing through the blackness of the night. Darkness was something she didn't mind, for she didn't even have eyes. Her sight came from the inside and couldn't be fooled like those organs people had in their heads. Like usual, Chandler had dressed in a black elegant suit and carried a suitcase with her. She was currently heading to an important meeting.

She scared a couple of street cats while swiftly moving through the narrow alleys. Other than that, she didn't really encounter any other living beings on her way. She could hear a motorbike somewhere in the distance, but that was about it. This night was silent and calm.

Soon Chandler slipped through a corner to a block that seemed to be as peaceful like the rest of the town tonight. However, she spotted a man with heavy build standing in front of one building's door, guarding it. The demon knew that this must be the place where she was supposed to go. As she approached the man, he kept his eye on her, watching her tightly.

When Chandler had come to him, he asked: “Password?”

“Bloodmoon”, the demon replied.

The guard nodded approvingly, opened the door behind him with his key and let her in. As soon as Chandler had entered the building, the guard closed the door behind them and then began to escort her deeper into the house. She looked greedily at the precious treasures that were put on display all over the place, such as expensive vases and paintings and other fancy items. Surely the owner of this place was very, very rich. This fact sparked great joy in Chandler's little heart.

The man escorted her to a very spacious room, decorated with artwork and taxidermized exotic animals. At the opposite end from the doorway, there was a desk and behind that desk was sitting a middle-aged man, few bodyguards surrounding him. They were waiting for her.

“Ah, Chandler, was it?” he greeted the demon as soon as she came through the door. “Come in, come in, take a seat.”

The demon did as she was told.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, mister Redgrave”, Chandler replied as she took her place in a chair in front of the desk, placing her suitcase neatly on her lap.

“Let's get straight to the business”, Redgrave said, leaning back on his comfortable chair.

“I'm listening”, the demon answered.

“There is certain someone this world needs to get rid of”, the man told. “I have a blood relation to him, but that only makes me loathe him even more. Do you understand where I'm getting at?”

“You want to extinguish the light of his life. Permanently.”

“Exactly.”

“Worry not.” An expression that resembled a smile appeared on her bird-like face. “I know just the right man for this job. He will not fail.”

Redgrave seemed to be satisfied by this answer.

“Good, good”, he muttered. “Now, let's discuss the details.”

Chandler let out a short laughter, sounding a little like magpie. She stood up and walked to the desk, then placing her suitcase to the table, opening it. It was empty – but ready to be filled with some funds. Mister Redgrave made a gesture with his hands, which his subordinates seemed to understand, as one of his men left the room, but came quickly back with a tray of cash.

Blood money was exchanged that night. Another life would be ended, only because of one man's wish and grudge.



[b]MASTER OF PAIN[/b]

He was still getting used to his new identity. A new start, a new life… He hadn't really expected that he would be granted with such things. Perhaps meeting Chandler in that dark alley was the best thing that had happened to him during his hundred years of life. He had been lost, heartbroken and confused, but Chandler had welcomed him to her home. The demon had really aided him, helping him to get on his feet. Chandler had taught him the ways of this world that was so strange to him, but soon he had begun to call it his home. As he managed to get accustomed to Olden Shadow Town, the demon had made him an offer. She had seen potential in him for certain types of shady works, fulfilled in the night, which was the best time for hunting. She wanted them to become business partners, and he had gladly agreed. And thus, he became a mercenary.

His name was now Sin Vulpes.

Taking this new identity as his own was the cause for him to be in this situation where he was right now. It was cold autumn night, rather dark and frosty. In the glow of a backyard's light Sin Vulpes could see his breath swirling in the air. And on the ground, just inches away from his feet was a man lying on his back, but holding his hands in the air as if that would protect him. Sin Vulpes was holding a gun, aimed at the terrified man.

His target was a pedophile, so the mercenary had heard. There was no way that such a shitty being should be allowed to live. Though, Sin Vulpes didn't really care that much about how innocent his targets were. A job is a job – and a thrilling hunt was what he wanted to experience.

There hadn't been that much excitement with this man, though. As Sin Vulpes had broken into his house, he had immediately started running away, rushing out from his house's backdoor. Sure, it was fun to let the prey have a little lead. But the wretch had ruined his chances and stumbled down, not far away from the house. The mercenary was a bit disappointed. However, he could still have some fun.

Without a warning, he pulled the trigger. In that instant, a blue magic bullet was shot from his gun, hitting his target to the shoulder, leaving a nasty, bloody wound. The man whimpered in pain and grasped his arm, rolling on the ground. There were tears in his eyes. Such a pathetic sight. Sin Vulpes shot again, this time to the leg. The man cried more. Seeing him quiver in pain and fear, that was exactly what the mercenary wanted to see. Third shot was aimed at the stomach. At this point the man was begging for his miserable life. But Sin Vulpes was not a man who would show mercy. On his face, he had the expression of sadistic glee.

He did shoot few more times into different parts of his target's body, avoiding places of vital organs. His victim was squirming in his feet. Even though he enjoyed to watch the man suffer, he decided to be merciful in the end and put him out of his misery. Charging a bit of his magical power, he shot a stronger bullet, straight at the man's head, bursting through his skull. This brought death to him. And above him, Sin Vulpes was grinning widely, his cruel deed now done.

This is what his life was now. He was a ruthless, sadistic killer, enjoying to torment those weaker than him. Thrill was his drug, bloodlust rushing through his veins. Chandler had helped him to find his true self. It was the hunter, the executioner. 

This was his world now.



[b]PRICE OF IMMORTALITY[/b]

It was a cold winter day. Early comes the darkness in this season of the year, wrapping the world into its embrace, comforting for others, gloomy for the rest. Nonetheless, there was a special kind of peace in the winter twilights. On that evening, snow was falling lightly, and in the illumination of the street lights, their dance in the air looked almost magical. Such sight sparked in the hearts of some a feeling that everything was well in the world, during that one calm moment. Of course, that wasn't true, but searching for comfort was just human nature to some folks, mostly to those who still had some innocence left in their hearts. Even in these darkest days of the year, you could find warmness that could cast away the coldness.

But such things mean nothing to some people. There is those whose world is cold and dark and nothing could be done to make it better. One of these was Irinn'sul, a poor man who carried an immense amount of sorrow in his heart. No one could understand his pain, for he had been wandering on the grounds of this world longer than most. He had been a proud prince of the insectkin race, but now he tried to hide the fact that he wasn't human by concealing his wings and antennae – it was a habit that had got stuck with him during the mage hunt era.

Irinn'sul had wanted to bring salvation to this world. So, he had sought ways to become immortal and gain eternal youth. He had succeeded in this, but he hadn't realized that immortality would turn out to be his curse. When the gods died, plunging the world into chaos, he understood just how insignificant he was. The world started to change around him and he couldn't do anything.

The world that had been familiar to him was now gone. He had lived through it all, his grief growing stronger. However, the most painful, the worst thing that happened was losing his beloved one. Irinn'sul's heart was broken – and nothing could mend it, nothing could put back together the thousands of shattered pieces. Sometimes he wished he could erase himself from this life, but that was impossible. The deathless curse would make sure that he would stay alive together with his agony.

On that evening, Irinn'sul was walking on the inconsolable streets of Olden Shadow Town. He was wandering aimlessly, drooping his head as if being powerless in front of some invisible force. There was no place he could call home, for his heart didn't belong anywhere. His life had no meaning left, except to patrol these streets – or so it had been for these days. He did travel around the world, staying maybe a decade or less in one place. Now he had found his way to Olden Shadow Town.

Without really thinking, he managed to stray to a park. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful place in town. Irinn'sul had always had an affinity with nature, so this strip of land with trees felt maybe even a bit cozy to him. Everything was covered in freshy fallen, pure snow. It was like the park was sleeping under that soft, white blanket, waiting for the next spring so it could bloom again.

Irinn'sul didn't meet many people while strolling through the park. There were a group of kids passing through, giggling happily. Then he encountered a happy couple that were cheerfully chatting and laughing. Irinn'sul could feel a sting on his broken heart; like someone had just stabbed him with a cold dagger. Bittersweet memories flashed in his mind, but he quickly pushed them away.

But the damage was done. Tears began to form on his eyes and he couldn't stop them. He tried to swipe them away, but more would come. Being almost blinded by tears, he walked to a spot where you could enjoy the view of the lake. He walked to railing, placing his hands on its cold surface, looking at the depths of dark water.

He felt so lonely. He was all alone in this world. He had nothing, nothing but his miserable life.

For a moment he contemplated to drown himself into the freezing waters. But he knew that such action wouldn't solve anything. So, there he stayed for a while, crying, until there were no more tears to shed. Bitter wind started howling, making the world seem even colder. Irinn'sul then began to make his leave, heading to a place that was supposed to be his home.



[b]BLACK HOLE[/b]

Gods have gone extinct. But he was still here, even though he had some blood of god in his veins. Perhaps there were others like him still in the world, but they were extremely rare. That didn't matter to him, though. He had never wanted to seek out people who were like him. In the past, they sought him – when he had still used to be handsome. The mix of blood he had inherited had always been kind of odd, for he had human, god and demon blood. When the calamity known as Plague of Gods wiped out all the deities, it did affect him as well. It didn't kill him, but it changed his appearance. Now he was a corpulent monster with light grey skin and a large crack in his face, broken like a porcelain doll. Inside this crack was nothingness, just a black void – except for a small flame that was burning in the emptiness. He had never been vain, so it didn't really matter to him how he looked like, he actually even found it amusing how people would freak out after taking a glance at his face.

He had changed his name into Everett, for after roaming in this world for thousands of years he wanted something that humans preferred and what was better fitting in this present day. He wasn't the one who would cling in the past, he rather went forward with the tides. After the Plague of Gods, he became an observer, peeking from the shadows how people were living their lives. Sometimes he would get involved with things, sometimes he just watched. His intentions were often shrouded in darkness.

Sometimes he just liked to walk in the streets, facing people, like on this morning. It was very early, most people where still sleeping. But Everett was a very curious being and he felt like he should go out during early hours just to see what kind of people were on the move. Thanks to his demon blood, he had the ability to read souls of others, which basically meant that just by glancing at someone's soul he could learn many things about them: what kind of life they had, the state of their mind, did they have lovers, their sins… and many other things. Everett was very interested in matters like these.

At dawn he creeped out of the apartment building where he was currently residing. The street lamps suddenly lit up as he exited the building. In their pale, just awakened light, he moved surprisingly swiftly through the streets. In the shadows he felt most comfortable, and few times he did lurk in them, much just to his own amusement, imagining himself as some badass character. Then he would slip away to find another shadow where to hide from view.

Just when Everett was about to take yet another dark alley as his lurking place, he ran into a child. Being a bit surprised seeing a child during these early hours, he just stared at the kid in silence for a little while. The boy couldn't be more than ten years old. What a strange encounter.

The boy stared intently at Everett. He took the opportunity to read the soul of this kid. After a short moment of research, he was even more surprised. There resided much evil in this child. That was pretty much it. The boy was like some evil incarnation of sorts. Perhaps it was just at a budding stage at the moment, but in few years, who knew what kind of monstrosity he would turn out to be.

Everett wouldn't allow his precious world to be damaged more.

Without saying a word, Everett opened his mouth, revealing only darkness inside of him. His jaws spread even wider and wider, into unnatural and horrifying way, exceeding the limits of human physique. He began to call the boy into this void inside, sucking him in. The kid tried to fight against his power, but wasn't strong enough. It was a nightmarish sight when the little boy got disappeared inside the mouth of monster. When he was gone, Everett closed his mouth, turning back to normal proportions.

Everett licked his lips. What a tasty meal. His stomach was never full, he had a never-ending hunger. After all, a void can't be filled. But he did feel content now.

Deciding to continue his little morning walk, Everett began to walk away from the spot where the strange kid had disappeared, never to be seen again.