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"You're stronger than I thought." Morte countered, pulling himself from the ground with a dark chuckle. "Too bad you're not stronger than me."
"Shut up." She hissed out, dragging herself backwards on the ground as the sharp bladed knife was lodged into her stomach.
"Fuck." She swore under her breath, groaning in pain as the blood began to overspill.
"Do you know what happens when you die? Trick question- you die. But you know, I could always bond us and keep you as a Demon after I kill you."
He began to walk towards her, kneeling down and grabbing her chin to look at her bloodied and bruised face.
She panted angrily, spitting out her blood onto his face and he paused. Morte's lips curved up, fangs poking through his blood stained lips.
"Tasty." He drawled out, pushing her back, Aria hissing in pain at the force as he stood up.
"Now, I'll just wait till you're bleeding out and then we'll kill you, sounds good right?" He quipped, walking over to the exit as she withered in agony.
She let out short pants of air, mustering up all of the power and strength she had inside of her, yelling out and shooting her hand in his direction.
Shot of fireballs headed his way and when they touched him, all they did was melt into his skin.
"Oh darling, I'm a Demon- your fire doesn't do shit to me but nice try." He began to touch the screen by the door, setting up the room to hold her hostage in.
Aria clamped her lips shut as she stood up, pain overriding her body but she pushed it down.
"You should really learn how to use your powers properly, you hellhounds can be really powerful sometimes."
She stayed quiet, gulping down the rancid metallic taste coating her throat as she approached him.
"Hm, nah you don't need any oxygen in here." He mumbled to himself and she gripped the sharp edged axe she found next to herself.
"Of course, sound proof walls are a need." He spoke to himself and Aria advanced on him, his wings now brushing against her as she readied herself.
Her eyes flashed orange, her body burning in flames that covered it as she dug the axe into his back with a jolt.
Morte tensed, his posture up right as it sliced into him, a short spark of pain emitting from his lips.
There were tears that uncontrollably spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks in agony.
She thrusted her arms more, indulging the weapon further into him, him exhaling out sharply in a huff before growling.
In a flash, he turned around and yanked the knife out of her stomach- the hot flash of pain causing a scream to leave her lips and it was cut short as he dove the blade back into her side.
Her breath hitched, eyes wide and glazed over as every inch of her began to rile in searing pain as the flames around her body began to die down.
The feeling that brewed inside her pushed up her stomach and she coughed out- almost gargling on her own blood that spilled from the corners of her mouth.
Almost immobile, hanging onto her last thread of consciousness, reaching up to clutch the material of his black shirt above his heart.
She gripped it for stability as her blood seeped from her mouth, choking on it as the droplets falling from her stomach pooled below them.
"It's a shame really, you couldn't be a proper Hellhound." He whispered lowly in her ear.
Black dots invaded her vision, blurred sight as she felt nauseous and dizzy on her own feet.
Tighter she clenched the material until she felt the familiar feeling enter her body, eyes flashing orange once more.
His soul.
Aria was attempting to grasp at any bit of his soul to pull out of his body and he jerked forward at the sudden sensation.
"What-" she felt the heavy feeling on her hand move as the ashy dust appeared to be coming out of his shirt.
Morte screamed out in agonising pain, his leg giving in as he arched his back, red eyes flashing and fangs beaded, kneeling before the Hellhound.
Aria tried with all her strength, all of her consciousness to grasp the whole of his soul but she felt herself shutting down, giving up.
Her eyes flashed her natural shade of brown, all of her powers diminishing as she collapsed in the pool of her own blood- a lone tear dripping down her cheek to meet the streams of blood leaking from her mouth.
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