#7 Guardian Demon - Aylin Reepor
He didn't have a guardian angel. He had me, a guardian demon. I protect him just, my ways are just a little more ...
Unorthodox. Based more on revenge and violence, manipulation and deceit. You play a little too hard with him, and you end up playing with me.
Michael was my mortal being. He was definitely a rebel, a fighter but he had a soft side. He was capable of love and caring, but like me, his ways of showing it were a little unorthodox. And maybe that's why my father had to step in; My father stepped in and showed him to someone who understood and could handle his temper, his danger, his ways.
Me. When he was 17, he walked into a church, hoping to gain forgiveness for all the wrong he had done. He had hurt people, stolen things, done drugs, and was having sex, among countless other atrocities that would make a holy man cringe. The priest told him he couldn't be saved. That he was a demon child and would burn in hell for all eternity. His sins were too vast to be forgiven and the priest doused him in holy water, muttering phrases in Latin over and over again under his breath.
Three altar boys rushed my poor Michael out of that church as if the whole building would catch on fire and they'd all burn in hell if Michael remained inside. My mortal had gone in for forgiveness but instead received torment and judgement.
The altar boys were brought down forced to take a knee. The processional cross flew into my hand and, without warning, I brought it down through the heart of altar boy #1, and across the skull of altar boy #2. Blood pooled on the floor by altar boy #3's knees. It had seeped out red as the roses crowning Mary's head, but soon turned dark, blacker than a raven. Tears spilled down the third boy's face.
"Looks like they weren't so pure, were they?" I whispered into the boy's ear. "What color will your blood be?"
His eyes grew larger; they were already so full of fear. Savoring every moment, making the boy feel every second of pain and misery, I sunk my teeth into the soft flesh of his neck. Vital fluid smothered my face in pure scarlet, only to transform into dark sludge, just as the blood of those before him had.
Releasing my jaw from his throat, his corpse dropped to the floor, echoing through the dead air. My head whipped towards the priest, cowering behind his beloved altar. He knew he wasn't safe. Reacting out of terror, he hoisted himself up and sprinted to the bell tower. I could hear him whimpering as urine slithered down his leg. And the judgement I gave him for a while was to let him run. My father may not play, but I do. Silly holy man and his silly little games.
I let my body soften into the curves of a woman and my demeanor transform into the love of his Virgin. No longer did I look like the beast that had desecrated God's holy place.
I rushed up the stairs and into the bell tower, acting as if I, too, were running from the monster that had just murdered three children. I locked the door and looked into the eyes of the priest.
"We should be safe ... I think."
The words stuttered out of my mouth. My body slinking towards the man of the hour. I pressed my chest up to his back, hand caressing his throat. My lips traced the back of his neck, sending a series of shivers down his spine and manifesting goosebumps all across his flesh. I could see every one of his thoughts flash across his face. Dirty and perverse. I found it highly amusing that the body of a woman could seduced the priest so easily, he who had condemned Michael for his "unworthy" acts, stood before me desiring to go against his holy vows. The vows he made to his God. My body shifted. Horns erected from my temples as a gray tint spread over my body.
As I made my way around to his front, my claws dragged across his skin, leaving deep gashes along his shoulders and chest. Dark, earthy wings sprouted from my shoulder blades. My true form was now almost entirely apparent. "Well, it looks like you're gonna be just the sacrifice Michael needs to make it to the Promised land, aren't you?" One of my claws pierced his left eye, leaving ooze and blood trickling down the side of his face and a sharp, murderous scream ringing in my ears. With one swift motion, the holy man's neck snapped and his entire figure went limp. The crucifix around his neck dangled for a second before melting into a puddle on the floor as the priest's body burst into flames and the dark sinister laugh of my father echoed throughout the church tower.