*Somewhere in the world of Pandemonium*

 

“Come on old man! These foolish traditions are what got us here in the first place!”

 

A group of three humanoid figures with skin as black as tar pushed an elderly man around trying to pry a black fruit from his hand. 

 

“You heard Griffiths, we need that to split between all the children!”

 

If one looked closely one could see that all the figures in this little scuffle were as dry as bone. Their skins looked dry and ashy, their rib cages were practically outside their bodies. 

 

But what made them stand out were the bright red eyes and horns that protruded from their heads. The horns were only barely poking out but they were a prominent feature nonetheless. 

 

“I…I won’t give it to you! I will sacrifice it to the Demon God and he will send us a Demon King as our savior!”

 

The old man tried his best to fight off the men. But despite all of them being equally as emaciated they were younger and had a bit more strength to them. 

 

Bam!

 

One of the roundy young lads pushed down the old man.

 

“It’s your generation’s fault we are living like this in the first place!”

 

The one who had just pushed the old man down looked at him with a look of anger and contempt. 

 

“Where was the Demon God when they killed the last Demon King! 

 

Or when they killed all of our parents and hunted us like rats!”

 

The youth one after the other fell into a state where their rage and sadness mixed leaving them despondent. 

 

The youths couldn’t hold back the rage as the memories of the past piled up on their hearts.

 

They took turns letting their frustration out on the old man taking turns kicking him. 

 

“Where was our God when we had to run underground in a damned dungeon just to survive huh!”

 

[Bam!]

 

A firm kick landed on the old man’s rib cage but he laid on the cave floor and hugged the black unknown fruit. 

 

[Bam!]

 

“Where was our God when our grandparents were starving to death!”

 

[Bam!]

 

Another kick landed firmly in the old man’s head leaving a dent. 

 

[ARRGH]

 

The old man screamed out but the barrage of kicks continued. 

 

“Where was our God when we had to feed the goddamn children cockroaches?!”

 

The kick that followed that sentence was even worse than the last. When it connected the old man instantly coughed up blood and writhed in pain. 

 

“And where is the Demon God to help you now!”

 

[BAM!]

 

Another firmly on the old man. This time the kick hit his spine and for some reason the pain all over his body stopped. 

 

It only took a few more seconds before the youths pried the fruit from his motionless body. 

 

The old man laid there looking at the dungeon floor, tears swelling up in his eyes. 

 

He tried to speak but the words wouldn’t leave his lungs. 

 

‘You…You think I don’t see all of that too!’

 

The old man thought to himself as he tried to get up. But then he realized something. 

 

‘My… My body… Am I a paraplegic now?!’

 

The old man tried to wiggle his toe but couldn’t feel any sensation. 

 

The old man overwhelmed with emotions laid face down drowning in his own tears. 

 

‘I… I’m sorry Lord Morning Star… I… can’t save them.’

 

The old man in tears sniffed and cried as he tasted the dungeon floor. 

 

‘I was there to witness the great demon city. 

 

I witnessed the rise of the last Demon King.

 

But those accursed humans!

 

They sent army after army. Hero after hero until nothing was left.’

 

The battles decimated their beautiful cities while the army exterminated their kind. 

 

The old man cried until he had no tears left, only the memories of days gone by. 

 

‘... I would give anything for these children to see those days once again…’

 

The oldman looked in the direction of a pile of stones with a black fire dancing in the center.

 

‘No… I will give anything for these children to see those days again!’

 

The old man with a look of determination used his chin to dig into the ground and scrunched his body half a centimeter forward. 

 

‘With these little believers I know the Demon God has been weakened… But … I will give what I can… for the children!’

 

The memories of the malnutritioned demon children with big beady eyes but caved in stomachs made him focus more. 

 

Some of those children who had to live on cockroaches were his own offspring. 

As a parent he never wanted this. If he was half as brave and righteous as the other demons he would have given his children a quick death rather than to have them live in this hell hole feeding on bugs. 

 

 

With a determination he dug from some place deep within the old man continued at a crawls’ pace. 

 

He was old and feeble and had lost the faculties of his body but he felt it. The possibility of hope. He just needed his kind to feel it as well. 

 

He prayed inwardly that the Demon God would not forsake his people once again. 

It took him several hours but he made it to the altar. 

 

The altar had stones stacked to its side piling high while at the center danced the holy flame of the Demon Kingdom. That black flame was the last of true hellfire they had. 

 

The black fire danced as the old man looked at its hypnotizing movements. 

 

‘Demon God… consider this… the last sacrifice of a hopeful and faithful demon.

 

I pray that the children will be free. 

I pray that they may live comfortably and happily. 

I pray… they get a good king once again.’

 

The old man looked at the fire and smiled. Like a worm the old man crawled into the fire. Inch by inch the fire engulfed the old man’s face and melted his brain hair and even his bones until the old man was reduced to naught.