A figure stalked through the doorway of an abandoned home. His pure red eyes moved slowly from left to right, taking in the surroundings.
‘This is it.” The male sighed, rolling his eyes.
The male as if he was no older than eighteen, standing tall and straight. He had pure red eyes, like frozen blood. He wore a cloak that covered his entire body besides his hand and head. The cloak was black, adorned with crimson, vine patterns that wound around the entire cloak as if the cloak were a tree. The figure’s fingers were long, thin, and pale. The nails colored purple. The figure also wore a large hat. This hat looked more like a pirate would wear it, with a blood red feather in it. The hat was tilted forward, shadowing over his face so that only his eyes appeared. As the figure moved further into the home, his body seemed to glide across the floor. The figure moved three rooms in, finding a small shrine. This shrine had too many candles to count, and a statue of a demon. This small black statue was as vicious as it was detailed. The sculpture had captured the demon down to the bulging veins. It was almost human. The only thing that differed was those horns and teeth. The teeth were barred like a dog’s fangs, the horns like a goat’s. The demon looked angry, its arms crossed over its chest, squatting on a stone. Its eyes glared directly at the figure, giving him the creeps. Suddenly, from the sleeve of the figure, came a gust of wind that shattered the statue. As the statue shattered, a pure red mist flew out. This mist began spiraling into a pillar where the statue was. In the statues place, stood the very demon the statue had depicted.
“Freedom…Reward….What man Want?” The demon spoke in a gravelly voice.
The figure sighed, obviously not very intelligent. “How about I get you for a reward?” The figure asked, laughing through the sentence.
As soon as the sentence had finished, a scimitar fell out of the cloak, it looked like it had been held there by a clasp on the inside. The scimitar landed, embedding itself in the wooden flooring. The demon flinched as the sword fell out of the cloak. It was a beautiful sword. Made of a red form of metal, it looked like rubies. The handle was wrapped in black leather, and at the end was a small tassel. The figure wrapped his arm around the handle, pulling it out of the flooring. He did so while walking toward the demon. As soon as the demon was in sweeping range, the male slashed forward, cleaving the demon in half. Cries of agony could be heard for miles. After three minutes of screaming, the body disintegrated, leaving a small bright blue glass orb behind.
“One Maraball down, ten to go.” The male said, revealing a small piece of parchment. He picked up the ‘Maraball’ from the ground, placing it in his pocket. He also pulled a small quill from his pocket, dipping it in a bowl of blood that was obviously at the shrine as a sacrifice. He scratched out a name with his quill. The name was ‘Firoth’. There were ten more names down the list.