The Boy She Met In London

Chapter XVI

3rd Person POV:

[ THE FOREST ]

Feeling the after effects of teleportation, the demon's body lurched forward, expelling the contents of her stomach. Staggering in her feet, she took slow but steady steps following the trail. It took her a while to reach the crystal blue lake, when she did, the demon was relieved to find the boy sitting by the bank, throwing rocks to the water.

One rock managed to skip a few times before sinking into the depths of the lake. The demon managed to take a few unsteady steps before the natural sound of the forest was disrupted when the boy spoke.

"Why look after me?" He questions, not once turning to look at the newcomer.

"I was worried." She admits truthfully.

The boy can sense the colour radiating off her; weary, anxious, and somewhat… glad? He was confused as to why the demon relentlessly searched for him. He's just an insignificant mortal, just like his mother and father.

The excitement from killing both of them has long worn off of him. Now, all he felt was numbness. The boy wants to experience that thrill again, one that couldn't even compare to the adventures he had with the demon. It was an intense emotion that he'd give his everything to grasp that extreme high.

His mind was set, to leave everything he currently has to solely dedicate his life into making art. The art of seeing people's colour change. To feel what every painter, writer, and musician has felt, to have a control into something; to be able to change and manipulate things and to bend it on their own will. To see people's faces change from different emotions, until finally, the dominant colour of fear would soon consume their body— the most beautiful colour he's ever seen in his life.

Just like how he saw his mother's anger melt into fear, and how his father kept on begging to be spared; he would want to witness that again. Murder was evidently the only thing running through his brain right now, making his mind foggy and hazy, covering up all the good times he had with his friend who's standing a few feet behind him. His eyes didn't recognize the demon anymore, although her colour was still the same warm and fiery as it was before; they were all alike with his mother.

The demon would just use him for whatever reason, then get tired of him and throw him away, just like his mother did.

"No you're not." He distastefully replies.

"Please, tell me you didn't do it. Tell me that Ana just misunderstood the situation and thought of you as the killer—"

"It was me! I did it!" The boy roars at her. For the first time seeing this side of him, she was scared; even though the demon knew he'd do little harm since she's an immortal.

"Why?" Her voice cracks

He exhaled, the boy didn't notice he was holding his breath for so long.

"Mother… she only used me to get close to my father… Jack Smith, the playwright you must've heard, was killed." He began his narrative.

"I thought she loved me, I really thought that the colour she's showing was genuine love and care for… me… but that was not it." The boy continues.

"A few days ago, after getting home from our afternoon shopping, I heard my mother weeping in her room. Anna was there, I asked her what was going on and she showed me a poster…" he pauses, keeping his breath steady.

"It was my father, the man who promised my mother he would return for her once his play sells out, he— he didn't. Instead he married a woman of nobility." The boy's eyes watered at this.

"He broke his promise to my mother. And… she lost her sanity along with it. I tried to comfort her and told her we can still live without him, but she's gone. She showed me her real colours." His voice wavers, tears were running down his face.

The demon quickly went to his side and pulled out a handkerchief for him, wiping his tears away and pulling him close for a hug. The boy openly accepts it, grasping her shirt as his embrace tightens, he's weeping in her shirt but she doesn't mind it.

"It was scary, (N/n)! All this time, the colour I saw within her, her love and care for me, wasn't directed towards me, but to that man instead. Mother vented her anger on me, she destroyed my books and beat me up, but I still love her." The boy whimpered, she reached her hand to his hair and gently pats it, reassuring him.

"I think she had enough of me. That's why she tried to strangle me to death—" The boy whispered downheartedly.

"She what?!" The demon pulls away, looking straight at the boy's heterochromia eyes.

"She tried to kill me." He repeated. "But don't worry, I've already dealt with her." The boy shrugs, with a cheerful grin plastered on his face. He pushed the demon away, standing up on his own; he circled the demon with a knife hidden behind his sleeves.

"Oh my lovely mother, how I watched her wrath bubble down as her body is covered with wounds; fear— such a wonderful feeling and colour~" he declares, madness swirling in his eyes. The demon caught on to what he's about to do and immediately stood up from the ground and scooted away from the lurking boy.

"This is absurd, what happened to you?" The demon freaks out. The boy, on the other hand, observes how the fiery and warm colour she has is slowly getting confused; dark shades of doubt and uncertainty mixing up with it. He knew this would happen. After all, what the demon's showing is the exact same reaction he received from his raging mother.

"You're just like her, fooling me around and calling me a friend when all you wanted was to eat my soul!" The boy exclaimed, revealing that he knew the demon's true intentions.

The demon was silenced by this.