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Whispered concern dispersed among the crowd.

The man in question stood above them on a stack of wooden boxes. “You’ve seen it, the gods work selfishly. They work for their own agendas, and you are the victims!” The crowd discussed loudly with each other. “I will stop them, but I need your support.” They stared at him, when finally a voice chanted, “Calder!” repeatedly and when everyone joined, it was a deafening roar of voices.

Calder smiled humorlessly, averting his eyes away from the crowd, looking back as the chaotic voices died down suddenly. An elderly man stepped forward, a wonder how he could stand without a cane. The old man took a deep breath and quietly said, “The gods are duty driven, and we aren’t the victims of the way of life. Stopping the gods would only make things worse--.“ A sword thrust through his chest made his eyes bulge. The attacker withdrew his sword and the elderly man grasped his chest and with a rattling breath fell sideways onto the ground. The crowd erupted into another cheer, raising their swords and stabbing the sky.

Calder heard a man say, “What will we do with the nonbelievers?”

He replied distantly, “Do what you want with them, just kill them. Don’t burn or bury the bodies, feed them to my friends. They will patrol around and make sure no harm comes to your village.” Climbing down from his makeshift perch, the mob rustled amongst each other, fights started to break out as the naysayers defended themselves against the onslaught. Feet touching the blood pooled ground, Calder stepped down an alley and quietly said, “Let’s go.” A faceless, grotesquely muscled demon shifted uncomfortably and followed him. The mob of men behind him dispersed and began spreading, unconvincingly, word of change Calder would bring.

Calder knew that the more fanatic the believers were meant there would be more confusion. Most of them wouldn’t recognize his face after a day or two, the chaos would slip in and they would only remember the false hope they grasped on to. Small towns like these suffered from lack of trade, especially on the outskirts of wildernesses. They were more prone to greed driven actions, he knew, because he once had done the same. He had lived a humble life for the majority of his life, but it turned into a monotonous parody of what it was to be alive. To be alive was to take risks, to have the heart beating frantic beats, and to have the mind and body constantly in motion.

Outside the village more humanoid demons waited for him, stiffly awaiting orders. They had no recognizable heads, which meant they couldn’t talk. Their body held a large, crude mouth opening to ingest with. Calder stared at them, only eighteen were left out of the forty he had. “Ten of you stay here, and the rest of you come with me, we have much traveling to do.” Most had died or fell out of spell and had to be killed. None of his demons were truly his, he only manage to corrupt some into obeying him, and to change into a unified shape among each other. True demons were immortal, as long as their creator was alive. By corrupting these demons they shifted to a new leader, but Calder could not create, only control, and control was limited.

He grasped his necklace, a valuable gift presented to him by the one who convinced him to get into this hell; it allowed him to change shape and gave him more stamina and strength while shifted. He pressed the necklace onto his chest and it melted into him, changing his shape to larger version of his corrupted demons, with the addition of a horned head.

Eying the night, he vanished into the brush with demons trailing.

A tired, over worked man named Gerod hefted the weight of the body over his shoulder. A mother in childbirth had died, taking the child with her. Taking bodies to the patrolling demons had become a chore, and it was usually forced upon lowlier citizens. The demons did not eat the bodies if no one was there to watch, they seemed to need confirmation that the body came from their village. Leaving the bodies alone to rot caused a smell that often drifted into town, and then someone had to retrieve the rotting corpse and place it in another location, and wait. With every corpse disposed, the demons had become more insistent and greedy. The ones that grew the most in size often ate more corpses than the smaller ones.

Several weeks had passed since that Calder visited them. He had brought words that were misinterpreted by most. Some believed that if the gods were gone, somehow, more wealth would come to the village. The vast majority thought that with the gods gone, their harvests would be better and sickness would be less common. The small minority quietly knew that without gods things would change dramatically, and for the worse.

Gently lying down the body, he covered her with a thin sheet. They were on the side of a worn road outside the village, on the edge of the forest. The village itself lay in the middle of a field, circled by a forest that grew thick and tall. The woods were imposing, but rarely gave them trouble. Wolves were scarce and the demons of old ages disappeared to find better game. No one traveled into the woods anymore, even for game. Most demons had left, yes, but a few sly demons remained. Things had changed, though; Calder’s minions harassed them constantly, appearing in town sometimes, searching for another meal.

He heard soft movement in the trees, soft thuds and the sound of something dragging or pushing itself nimbly. This wasn’t the crashing sound of Calder’s pets. Something red slithered into view, a snakelike bottom and a humanlike top, with a thick neck and gleaming skull leering at him. The hands supported long fingers that were webbed crudely with orange skin and were tucked to the sides. The eyes weren’t eyes so much as stiff muscles stretch out of the socket, orange and methodically writhing. “Odd place to bury a body.” It breathed to him, in a surprisingly smooth voice.

Gerod grunted, and replied, “Are you here to eat it or not? I have better things to do than watch demons toy around with food before they eat it.”

“I don’t need to eat to survive.”

“Then why are you here? Are you going to eat me instead? You don’t look like the demons that follow Calder around.”

His eye tendrils froze in movement as the demon pondered, “A human?” The man nodded. “Demons controlled by a human? How strange. Humans aren’t on the list to control such things. I suppose he visited you and gave you delicate lies?”

“He told us that the gods were nothing but trouble, and now the village is killing itself with false hope. I suppose the small harvest this fall has made everyone tense for winter. He told us to feed the dead to the demons he commanded. His demons have been invading the town recently. One trampled a child and stole it away before anyone could react.”

The demon tilted his head and said, “I knew something strange was going on in your village. I’ve been watching and saw this happen. Well, I think you will worry less when I dispose of them.”

He sighed, and replied, “Are you sure you can handle all of them? There were at least ten.”

The demon laughed up something curdled. “You must be eager to help.” The man shook his head with wide eyes. “You may bury that body in the forest. I can tell you right now from the body that your wells are poisoned. Farewell, gravedigger,” The red skinned demon began slithering away, towards the forest. It stopped, when the man asked for his name, he replied, “Niarei.”

Gerod followed him; the woman slumped over his shoulder. He searched for a proper clearing to bury the woman. On the path ahead of him, Niarei moved with a disturbing grace. He both slithered and stepped with his lower half. He had thick purple insect limbs on the sides of his snake half; they seemed to give him more traction.

Gerod rested on the side of the road, the load was making his back ache. He had no food. He chipped at the ground with his dagger, regaining strength. Niarei had disappeared into the brush, but he knew he wasn’t far; he always stayed pace with Gerod. Feeling rested, he resumed his travel. He was alone on the road for a while, when he heard a struggle in the forest. It sounded like a one sided fight. He recognized the thrashing sounds of Calder’s minion; it panted and loudly vomited something thick. Another thrash and there was silence. Niarei silently slithered back onto the road; his yellow-white skull was coated in mixed layers of blood.

Gerod started to sweat. The day was cool, but acknowledgement of a demon protecting him and other demons hunting him made him feel more than uneasy.

“Do you want to know how I killed it?” asked Niarei. He seemed more aware, more active. His eye tendrils twitched and stretched with what seemed to be enjoyment. Gerod wasn’t sure how Niarei could express emotion in such abstract ways, but it seemed to suit him.

In a peacefully quiet clearing, where the sunlight bathed the ground with tender warmth, Gerod buried the mother. Niarei watched, curious. He didn’t have his shovel so he used his hands, when he came across a root he chiseled it away with his dagger. It seemed like the only thing that existed anymore was death. There was a balance with life and death, usually, but balances were being skewed by something, and Calder wasn’t the single source of it.

Gerod heard himself say, “Looks like I have free hands to help you with.” Niarei gave a quick nod and vanished into the brush, Gerod followed. He wondered if demons ever got tired.

The sun was centered in the sky when another demon crashed around. It was a while before they got to it, the demon didn’t seem to notice them approach. Gerod hid behind a tree, waiting, while Niarei approached the beast. Niarei raised his wing-like arm to his face and coughed. The demon turned around and froze. Anger fluttered and solidified inside of Gerod, these were the demons that had been terrorizing the village for several weeks. The village was an empty shell and they always begged for more.

The demon started to back away until Gerod revealed himself and the demon charged at him, arms raised and clawed hands reaching out. He was ready. He side stepped and planted his dagger between the ribs of the demon’s back. It gurgled something and blood oozed out of the corners of its mouth. Gerod tackled the demon down and rolled its struggling body around so he could get to the stomach. The dull blade sunk in the soft stomach and slid down to the pelvis, intestines puckered out of the wound. The demon wailed and thrashed around in a panic. He sliced, again and again, dicing the organs in ragged motions. The stomach of the beast was a bloodied pool when the demon stopped struggling. Panting, he sheathed his bloodied dagger and stood, meeting the gaze of Niarei, who hadn’t moved the whole fight.

Gerod half smiled and inquired, “Is that how you killed them?”

“Minus the knife, yes,”

Gerod laughed, he felt more alive and his blood seemed to run through his veins at a quicker, rushing pulse. They started off again, at a faster pace, both having a taste of victorious satisfaction.

Adrien woke with the familiar sense of sudden realization. The bedroom was bathed in a golden light, strengthened by the stark white walls and bland furniture. He reached an arm out next to him, he was alone in bed. He slipped into his pajama pants and walked out of the room, smelling the buttery dense air, breakfast was almost ready.

She was at the stove flipping pancakes, there was a large stack of hot pancakes waiting, and several still were cooking. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. She was dressed in a long sleeping shirt, it showed nothing of her sturdy thin figure, but she said she would wear nothing else to bed.

Adrien took the plate with the largest stack and sat at the table. “Are we inviting an army over?”

She sat next to him with her own large pile of pancakes, drenched in thick syrup. She gave him a small smile and said, “Today is a big day, Adrien. You’re going to meet my dad and then we’re going to have a nice walk together.”

His lingering sleepiness vanished as he remembered. They were going to get married. Adrien and Lily had been dating for several years now, and he finally proposed a few weeks ago. She seemed pleasantly surprised but not shocked, no; she almost seemed to be expecting it. After a few days she mentioned her father’s possible reaction, which would be either angry or silently approving. They were going to be visiting him today. It made Adrien a little nervous but he thought that her dad would be an understanding person. Having the father introduced to a boyfriend for the first time and then telling him that Adrien wanted her hand in marriage could be unpredictable.

Adrien finished his breakfast, he wasted none of it. Lily was a slower eater and lingered at the table as he went to go and get dressed. Adrien clothed himself in his usual dark blue jeans and white shirt. He combed his short brown hair and brushed his teeth. Walking out of the bathroom, Lily was in the bedroom getting ready so he threw himself on the couch and waited silently. After a while, she walked out and did her bathroom duties, and finally, after what seemed forever, she stood before him.

Lily looked down at him with somber eyes and said, “Are you ready?”