#devilsmark

A Witch’s Mark or a Devil’s mark was the imprint of the Devil’s initials on a witch using his claws or a hot iron. During witch trials in the 1600s, the practice of “pricking a witch” came about where witches had pins driven into old scars or calluses to find an area free of pain that proved a communion with the devil.

He’s not sure why, but the man’s presence has his hackles standing up. He looks like a human, but the smell is off. From a distance, Xaallo observes the being. Perhaps if he’s inconspicuous enough, the distance between them could be maintained. 

Demons and devils were much less myths and legends, and more of an elusive species of creature. Finding themselves on earth, roaming or causing some sort of chaos or mass hysteria before disappearing back into the dark long enough for some other creature to take the blame. 

At least, that’s what his books taught him about demons, and with the few he’s met, that seemed pretty accurate. They give off a far more darker and sinful smell and with Hector’s own experience, he could distinguish a demon from a human. Usually.

Usually, they wouldn’t stand in the middle of a road, looking far more lost than intimidating. The blue eyed man stopped in his tracks as he considered the one before him as some new cross roads devil-- before he realized they passed a crossroads on the way back home. Standing around with this demon, or not demon, wasn’t getting him anywhere, the sun had long since kissed the horizon, and it was getting darker by the minute.

Being a Sanson was not a secret one could keep forever. The shadow of their family name was nothing he could escape, and wherever he went and whomever he met, it was always only a matter of time, until they found out. At least Ash did not cuss him for not having been honest from the beginning, but talking about it alone made Charles anxious.

“Zero.”