It wasn't long before I was captured.
They treated us like sheep. Herding us into places where we could be maintained enough to do their bidding. The destroyed technology, destroyed history, destroyed everything that humans may have cared for. They were ruthless and heartless.
They banished the talk of God, though I think people had lost hope that there was a god at this point. If there was, it would be hard to believe he would let something like this happen.
Everything was changed. We watched people die in the middle of crowds for not doing what they were supposed to. The demons, like hawks, just watched us, begging for us to slip up. Billions of people were erased. They say almost half of the total human population is just gone. Obliterated. Just being able to survive this long made you a lucky one.
I was definitely lucky in some sense.
After the fighting was over, the world was sectored off and the humans assigned work for them to do for the demons. It was nothing like what the world once was. We were the scum of the earth, the bottom of the caste system. They used us to do whatever they wanted.
Dark now limits how many people can get killed and why they get killed, but only due to the shift in order.
For a while I stayed working at the orphanage. They had made orphanages out of the churches around the world, where they raised children until they were old enough to start working. The humans who worked in those had protection from harm, so it was a top job to have. We were fed and grown, but only because if we were all killed the demons would die off too.
From what I understood, there was a balance to be maintained. Most humans don't know the half of it and those that do are killed or in hiding, like the Pope and all catholic leaders have been in for twenty years. The Vatican, which was once the center of all catholic holiness, is now where Dark resides, along with his highest ranking officers. Somewhat of a cruel joke.
When it came to shelter, most humans could live independently. They lived in the remnants of the homes that people used to live in so long that they were respectful and responsible. They did their jobs and lived somewhat normal lives.
I wasn't too responsible, nor was I respectful, because I was now about to be sold off to some god damn demon and I didn't want that. Why was I in this unlucky group of bastards who got sucked into the awful mess of being sold.
So I left for a while, to escape. I left to the woods by the gates of my hell just to get away for a moment. Pretend that this wasn't happening, that the world wasn't destroyed, pretend that I had the power to fix this god forsaken mess.
Truthfully it was shocking I wasn't dead by now. I had escaped more times than I could remember, sitting out in the open air and imagining a life of freedom. Something that comes to mind is the fact that I have never felt freedom. Many that are my age never got to experience what freedom is like.
I sit down when I feel like I'm far enough, resting for a moment before thinking through what my punishment could be if they catch me.
I press my back into the tree I'm sitting by, my eyes closed as I feel the bark against my back. It feels rough and weathered, the bark crumbling off in some places and leaving small holes. It was evident that this tree was dying, if not dead.
But it felt real.
I open my eyes again and look around, taking in the surroundings with a pleasant sigh. This was the only place I felt safe, and now I was soon to lose that too. Nothing is sacred in this world. Peace is false in this world. If there was a god, why would he forsake humans in such a way.
I hear what sounds like crows above me, perched on the tree that I lean upon.
From what I hear, that's a bad omen.
"Looks like I've come out at a good time." A low voice falls behind me, soft and well spoken. "Beautiful night, really."
My eyes widen as I feel the rush of cold air. I jump up and look around frightened, my body trembling quickly. I hear the soft sound of footsteps but can't seem to find the source. "Who are you?"
All is silent for a moment. Then, a small chuckle.
"Does it really matter?" The voice echoes from another spot, . I scream and jump away, seeing nothing as I move in the opposite direction. I reach to my ankle, grabbing my pocket knife from it and quickly holding it out. "I'm sure you at least know what I am. Therefore, even if you knew who I am, you should already recognize your problem. You know you aren't supposed to be out here and that necklace you wear tells me even further that you aren't."
I look down, remembering the lock of a necklace that stays around my neck at all times. It's charmed, so I can't remove it. No matter where I go or what I do, it's a symbol of my entrapment and links to whatever beast will own me.
If I escape, it shows the world who I really am.
What I really am.
A slave.
The lowest of the low.
The ones who suffer the most beneath the feet of both human and Demon.
I hate it with a passion.
My eyes narrowed to slits, looking around angrily at the empty air around me. I barely notice the cawing of crows growing louder around me. "Fuck you. All of you are so cruel and sick. Taking advantage of us just because you can."
"Strong words from someone so weak." A voice like rumbling thunder fills my ear, as if whispering to only me. I feel his breath. I reach over quickly, pushing away at empty air as he chuckles again. "Though it is quite interesting that you have so much spirit. You also smell quite different than most humans I've met. Is it your soul, I wonder."
I scoff and glare further, trying my best to hide my fright. "Like I said, fuck you. If you plan on doing something, I wish you'd just go ahead and do it instead of acting like I'm some mouse the cat can toy with."
"Fine." He chuckles, and suddenly the world feels darker. The air feels heavier. I suddenly recognize the echoing of crows all around me.
"Nunc Somnum"
The feeling of hands pressing into my back suddenly becomes more recognizable, just as my eyes become heavy and painfully hard to keep open.
—-
"Get up. It's time." I hear a lower level demon mutter as my eyes crack open, my body sore and aching as I begin to look around. The grey, bland walls gave off the feeling of mundane, the bed was firm and only gifted restless sleep. There was a black rose next to my pillow.
I was in my room.
Why was I in my room?
