#mb killer

Large windows lined a grand hall, letting in the bright light of the moon as the main source of light. Sparks burst to life and flickered through their brief lives, offering momentary flashes as blades clashed. Two figures traded blows back and forth in the dim hall, one’s eyes, target soul, and twisting horns glowing a bright blue as the eyes of the other held burning gold lights that darted about to try and keep track of his opponent. A glowing blue shield appearing and vanishing as needed as to avoiding hindering its user.

The moonlit fights were becoming oddly routine between the demon and prince. Dream was half convinced that Killer was just pushing him to try and see him in his berserk form. Only he and his brother hadn’t made use of it at least once by now after all, and Nightmare’s ailment would have him vanishing at odd times, only to return at even odder ones confused and lost. This made Dream more reliable for attempting to track him down. He probably didn’t help himself in getting targeted with how he’d been going after lesser demons without hesitance.

Both fighters were too evenly matched for any fight between them to favour one or the other for long. It was like a dance with both partners fighting for control. The back and forth, the spins, dips, and leaps as they tried to sway things towards their victory. Neither had yet claimed victory over the other, and it was something that irked the both of them. Whenever one looked to have victory just within their grasp in a one on one fight, something would happen to break them apart and leave the whole thing unresolved.

Activating his shield a moment too late, Dream grunted as the back of one of Killer’s knives caught him across the side of his ribs to the front. He stumbled back, losing his footing for a moment. That short open was all Killer needed to pounce forward, pushing Dream towards one of the windows.

Unable to recover properly from that first hit, Dream used his shield to try and protect himself as he was pushed back. He attempted to duck and dodge, but one of Killer’s feet clipped his chin and forced him back farther. The prince growled under his breath as he trying to figure a way out, but Killer had gained the advantage and they were dancing his way now.

In a last-ditch effort to regain something, Dream dismissed his shield and lunged forward with his rapier. Killer caught his sword in the dip of his giant knives letting sparks burst forth in a shower of light as metal ran across metal. He used his control of Dream’s blade to throw the prince off again and pushed him the final few steps to one of the large windows.

Their bodies were pushed flush together as Killer used his knives to pin Dream’s sleeves to the windowsill, further limiting the golden prince in what he was able to do. “Looks like I win this time,~” he cooed.

“Do I look like I’m surrendering?” Dream attempted to put some spite or anger behind his words, but instead, they came out breathy and vaguely impressed. Killer’s already wide grin seemed to grow even wider as they stared at each other.

The demon leaned closer to his captive to speak quietly to him as if they weren’t alone in this grand hall. “Is that a challenge? I’d love to see you attempt to escape.” There was a pause as Killer settled his face so close they were both breathing the same air. “Unless you have some other plans on how you’ll fight me?~”

For a moment, all was silent. Just the two who were fighting on opposite sides of a battle catching their breath together as they were pressed impossibly close. Dream’s face mostly in shadow, only highlighting his golden eye lights as they searched the demon’s face, and Killer’s just far enough away to be lit beautifully by the light of the moon streaming down upon the both of them. One of Killer’s hands left his knife to brush across the faint golden hue beginning to blossom upon Dream’s face. At the same time, Dream was wondering when his free hand had used its limited mobility to grab at Killer’s jacket. If the move was to push the demon away or pull him closer, the prince had no idea. Conscious thought felt too far to bother with as he memorized the mixing of silvery moonlight and the beautiful blue that danced in the demon’s eyes and across its face as its glowing horns had slipped from existence during this quiet exchange.

“Just kiss already!!!” And like that, the moment was shattered like a piece of glass unevenly heated by a raging fire, bursting and scattering pieces everywhere. Both of their faces grew into beacons of their respective colour as Killer pulled away. Being made of demon magic, his knives vanished as his horns reappeared. Dream’s grip on his jacket stopped him for only a moment before he somehow escaped it and then vanished completely in a blink.

Face feeling like a beacon in the otherwise dimly lit corridor, Dream brought his now free hand to cover his face instead of keeping it help out as if that’d bring Killer back. He groaned loudly into it as he struggled to understand what just happened beyond an intense frustration directed at the owner of the voice that had broken whatever had just happened.

“Aw, you were so close,” Ink pouted from next to Dream. Dream tightened his grip on his rapier, having to remind himself that it probably wasn’t a good idea to stab the shopkeeper who’d been overall helpful if a bit weird until now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Finally came the prince’s reply when he felt he could voice something other than annoyed gibberish.

Ink whined, “You were finally going to kiss after all this tension and now he’s gone!” The shopkeeper sounded a lot like some petulant child who’d been denied a favourite snack.

“The only tension between me and that demon is the desire to finally be victorious. Once again our battle has been disrupted, so once again we end in a tie.” Dream finally pulled his hand from his face so he could see where he was going as he pushed off the wall to go find the others. He didn’t want to listen to whatever Ink was going to say. He definitely hadn’t wanted to kiss that beautiful face.

...Right?

When Killer appeared late to the meeting with his king and the other demon lords, a few curious looks were thrown his way. He was usually the first one there, and he usually didn’t arrive with a vibrant blush alight on his skull. “Where were you?” their king asked, more as a formality, though even he wasn’t without curiosity for the tardiness of his right hand.

“I got carried away terrorizing the pesky mortals,” Killer responded in a way that made it clear he was not open to talk about the subject any more than that.

He devoted his full attention to the meeting after that, and away from the warmth still lingering on his body from where it’d been pressed against another. He gently rubbed a thumb over the fingers that had caressed that golden light.

Some would say he was possessed, but Sans was pretty sure he was still as clear-minded as before this all started. It wasn’t his research into “evil things” that was having a toll on his mental health. If anything, it was the bullying. Well, that and the passing of his brother which he suspected might’ve been caused by the very same person who led the bullying against him. There wasn’t much he could do with being one of the few monsters in this small village, and it was far enough away from the castle and its influence that anyone upset about something the royals were doing might seek to lash out at him simply for sharing an appearance with the princes.

His current obsession, and the reason people were beginning to avoid him more, was a demon. Demons were always said to be awful creatures, and yet he’d been seeing one regularly for months now. It wasn’t his fault he wanted answers, he was sure any sane individual would want to know more about the demon that appeared in their room at night with sweet-sounding offers. While the whole demon appearing to offer something enticing sounded about right for demons, it would always leave for the night with a small bow and a “call for your king if you change your mind” if he respectfully declined.

Any text about demons was something he did his best to get his hands on. Digging through the small library in the house of the village head to try and find anything that might help him or explain things to him. It was frustrating to him that all the books just talked about demons in broad strokes and referred to them all as volatile, bloodthirsty beasts that took pleasure in toying with mortals. Even the latest book he’d discovered which was supposedly about summoning the things. Not once was there a mention of demons going so out of their way to offer things to a mortal, nor a demon as polite as the one he’d met.

Closing his eyes, he could still picture the first night he’d met the demon with surprising clarity. It’d been after a particularly rough day. He’d broken down crying in a secluded corner of the village as the grief of his brother’s passing overwhelmed him, only to be found by his tormentors who’d lashed out at him worse than they’d ever done before that. After a day like that, a stranger in his bedroom hadn’t gotten much of a reaction out of him. In fact, the demon looked somewhat beautiful with the light of the full moon highlighting its inky form. The glowing blue eye was like a second moon as the two had watched each other. He could have gotten lost in that solitary eye, and probably would have, if it weren’t for the movement of the demon twirling what appeared to be a black rose in its fingers as it held the flower close to its chest.

“I know your plight,” the demon had said, “and I can offer you the power to oppose your oppressors. You’ll never have to live in fear again.” The voice had been deeper than he’d expected from the other, but it was a pleasant pitch that felt like it resonated within his chest.

He wasn’t sure how he’d ever found it in himself to speak, much less deny the demon. Though the denial was after a moment of hesitation he still felt bad for having. “I’m sorry, but I must decline. Accepting feels like admitting defeat, and I don’t want to let them win.” His voice had been even and calm, something he was even less sure of how he managed than his ability to speak at all.

“Very well.” The demon had nodded, then it gave a short bow to him that felt like something reserved for only those of higher class rather than something that should be aimed at a peasant such as himself. “Should you change your mind, simply call for your king.” With that, the demon had vanished in a blink. Gone into the shadows it appeared to be made of.

After that night, the demon would appear at seemingly random, though always after a bad day, to make the offer again. The exchange between the two of them felt almost routine at this point. Sans found himself finding some strange comfort in it whenever it happened. Any moment in the demon’s presence was comforting, but he couldn’t find it in him to break their exchanges to offer to let it stay. Not like he knew if it would accept a snack or drink, or if it even wanted to be around him beyond trying to get him to agree.

Sighing and opening his eyes, he looked towards the window. It was getting late out, so he’d have to end his search for the day. The book he was holding snapped shut and gently pushed back into place. It looked as though it’d be no use, but he kept a mental note of where about he’d been just in case. With a forlorn expression, he just rested his fingers along the book’s spine for a moment.

Footsteps quickly took off from just outside the door to the room making him cringe slightly. He hated how familiar he was with the gait of the villager head’s brat child. It was useful if he could catch it before it got to close as it usually meant trouble was coming as they led the torment against him. He had no doubt they were looking for some excuse for another reason to go after him, as they and their gaggle of mindless yes men friends had been quiet lately.

The walk had been blessedly quiet until his house was in sight. Just as he turned the corner to see it, the brat and their ‘friends’ were also suddenly right in his face. His next step was hesitant as he tried to think of a way out of the impending confrontation, but it was too late. “There’s the demon worshiper!” the brat yelled. Sans’s mind stuttered as he stopped in place while others from the village began to look over at the accusation. It was a weighty claim and not something you called somebody lightly.

Of course, that left the skeleton with only one way to reply. “What?” He couldn’t rid the dumbfounded tone from his voice as he watched the brat grin faintly as they stared back at him through a mop of neatly kept brown hair.

“He’s been reading books on demons for months, and today I saw him with a book on how to summon them! He clearly plans on cursing us all!” Sans didn’t know how to refute their claim. It was true that he’d been reading the books, but that was to research the demon that had been visiting him unprompted. Though saying such things while trying to deny the claims wouldn’t make him look any better. The fact that he’d met a demon face to face and was still alive would probably convince the people that he was some sort of demon worshiper.

Words failed him as the brat began to stalk towards him, calling at the villagers that they had to act now to rid their village of evil. Sans threw his hands up placatingly, trying to come up with anything to calm the quickly turning minds of those he’d grown up around as he backed up. At most he hated the village brat and perhaps their friends, but he didn’t hate the village as a whole. He’d never dream of cursing the only place he’d ever known.

A mob was slowly forming and they were driving him away from the safety his home could have temporarily offered. Panic was beginning to seep through his bones as frightened whispers mixed with jeers over the quick acceptance of the accusation. It didn’t take him long to realize what was happening. The brat saying to get rid of the evil was meant to spur the others towards the usual punishment for demon worships. He was going to die.

Hands grabbed at him, tugging him towards the village square. He struggled, pleading with those around him to stop. He wasn’t what they thought he was! He didn’t want to die!

As he was being drowned in a sea of chanting that had begun, calling for the demon worshiper to be purged, that the demon’s offer echoed in his head. If he did nothing, he would die. He’d rather admit defeat to the brat than die. He didn’t know what to say beyond the vague instructions to call for his king. Still, he took a deep breath.

“My king!” he shouted. “My king, I’ve changed my mind!” Despite his shouting, his voice was still lost among the crowd. He could only hope the demon somehow knew he was calling for it.

The shadows of the evening seemed to grow longer at his calling, growing a mind of their own as they began to twist. Startled cries began at the edges of the crowd as people stumbled over nothing and others caught sight of the strange phenomena. People both surging closer to the group for help, or scattering away to try and escape whatever was happening. Despite the noise, deep chuckling could still be heard rising above it all despite how low and calm it was.

“It’s a demon!” somebody cried in terror. “He’s already doomed us all!!” That had the crowd falling apart more as people hoped to escape what a demon might do to them. Sans was dropped in the chaos. He curled up on the ground, in hopes to avoid too much damage from being trampled.

Nothing touched him, despite the loud hysteria, and that caused him to slowly peak out of his protective position. Shadows swirled around him and would leap from the ground to lash out at anyone who grew near to his prone figure. Unthinking, he reached out a hand towards the darkness. It reached out back at him and twined harmlessly around his fingers. The cool touch oddly soothing, almost like it was eating away his fear and panic to leave only a gentle calm.

He looked up when the familiar voice of the demon spoke to him. “You chose an interesting moment to finally admit that defeat you’ve been avoiding.” A single glowing eye stared at him from the condensed darkness beside a nearby building. “However, I will not let you deny me now just because you’re safe.”

A quiet laugh left Sans. “Even if you left, they would just come back for me again.”

That appeared to satisfy the demon. It nodded before stepping from the shadows with a paper in its hands. “Gather the items on this list and return to your home. Only the foolish will dare approach you with the intent to lay hands upon you. Any that do shall be made forfeit.”

“I’ll be as fast as possible,” Sans said as he took the paper with care. Just a brief glance showed a list with the more uncommon items crossed out, and the remaining items were things he should be able to find quickly. He was pretty sure he had some of them at his home already.

Standing, he realized the demon had vanished. He supposed he better gather the items quickly so as to not upset the demon. Plus doing a short grocery run for a demon was a small price to pay for not dying.

Arms full of the seemingly miscellaneous items the demon had asked of him, Sans entered the small bedroom off of the main room of his home after the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The demon was already inside of it doing something on the ground. He made sure to carefully dance around whatever it was doing to place the items upon the bed. Shadows ate up the items he’d dropped off. Candles were arranged around the floor sporadically and lit the whole wooden surface which lit the room oddly, though part of that could be the seemingly sentient shadows moving about as well.

“Is that all?” he asked the demon as he turned to inspect what it was doing to his floor. Dark markings streaked about with strange runes he couldn’t read scrolling off in odd angles. It was beautiful if a bit strange.

The demon didn’t spare him a glance. “Stand in the middle,” it directed as it flipped a page of a thick aged tome. Not seeing the harm in a simple action, Sans followed orders and stepped carefully into the spot where the patterns seemed to flow towards. A brief glance and nod was his only assurance that he was right in his guess.

Unsure of what else to do, he simply watched the demon work as silence fell between the two of them. The movements it made were transfixing, but the demon’s familiar flower wasn’t in its hands. If it weren’t for the candlelight, he probably would have missed the fact that it was gently tucked into the sharp crown that sat upon the demon’s head. It was almost cute in how it reminded him of the frazzled old human who kept inventory tucking their writing utensil behind their ear only to forget where it was later. He only said almost because calling a demon cute seemed like a bad idea. Especially when he had no idea what the demon was doing.

Eventually, the demon stood. It held out its hand and Sans took the quiet message and held out his hands in return. Confusion pinched at his brow when soft black petals fell into his palm. “Place them in your mouth.” Sans wasn’t sure it was safe, but from his research on demons, he knew that the demon wouldn’t attempt to kill him until it gave him what it had promised him. With that to comfort him, he complied. The petals were strangely sweet in his mouth.

With the old tome in its hands, the demon began to speak in a language foreign to the monster. As he spoke, the sweetness in Sans’s mouth strengthened. The lines upon the ground had the colour of the demon’s eye begin to race through them, starting at the edges and working in towards him. He forced himself to watch as he repeated that the demon wouldn’t kill in his mind.

One of the demon’s hands reached out as it continued to speak. That same blue colour filling the lines began to overtake the white glow of what had been removed from him. Strangely enough, he could feel a cold discomfort as the colour and shape of whatever it was changed. His head was also feeling light and strange as if somebody was actively shoving cotton into it.

Wavering on his feet, Sans closed his eyes.

The newly born demon opened his eyes slowly. Fingers twitched as he looked slowly at the one who’d changed him. The other was watching him with a wide grin. “It’s just occurred to me that I never asked before now for the name of my new servant.”

Despite having all the memories of his past life, the new demon felt its old name was not enough for what it’d become. “You may call me… Killer, my liege.” The other nodded.

“Very well Killer, I have given you power. All I ask in return is you offer your services to me. I have grand plans, and they would do well with you to aid me.” The request was simple as far as the now named Killer believed. While he’d been blind before, he knew now that this was the king of demons himself.

He gave a low bow. “It would be an honour to serve you, my king. If I might be selfish enough to request one more thing? I’d like to use my power for the reason you gave it to me”