It was a dark fall day, the streets were wet from the rain and the wind was blowing the leaves. Hardly a soul was still on the move at this late hour.
From the shadows of a small alley, the demon watched the old man. He'd been following him for quite a while, having chosen him as his victim, his "dinner" so to speak. He had risen from the depths of Hell to the mortal world with an unquenchable lust for human flesh and a mortal soul, and he had no intention of letting that lust go unsatisfied. Unlike most of his demonic relatives, who favored to prey on young females, he preferred older specimens. Old by human standards, because what were 70, 80 or 100 years for a powerful hell demon like him, who could be in theory a nuisance forever and has been one for centuries. But he liked mature flesh and a soul that had seen much of life.
The man he had chosen must be in his 80s, hunched over and walking down the street, leaning on his cane. The raindrops dripped off his slouch hat and dark coat, and the autumn wind ruffled his long white beard. Apparently he still hadn't noticed his hellish pursuer, he didn't show the slightest concern or nervousness. Unusual, but all the better, the demon thought, surprise always added a special touch to his meals.
He considered himself an aesthete who didn't just tear his victims apart like many of his fellow primitive demons. No, he preferred to slowly and stylishly peel the skin from the bones of his meal and slowly pull out the intestines one by one and devour them with relish before the poor humans dying eyes.
Gracefully, the demon began to approach the man, slowly gliding from shadow to shadow and while he came closer and closer, he was making disturbing noises that dis-harmonized beautifully with the autumn storm. The old man stopped, lifted his head and listened. The anticipation and the demon's appetite rose immeasurably. With a sudden unreal movement he broke from the shadows: twice the size of a grown man, horned, skin blood red and pulsating, and teeth and claws razor sharp! Just the sight of the demon had made people drop dead. That way he appeared in front of the old man, but when the man saw him, he started laughing softly.
The demon was confused, he had never experienced such a reaction. At times his victims had gone insane at the sight of him, but that laugh sounded different. It was quiet, but at the same time it sounded knowing, ancient, and menacing. The hell spawn also thought he noticed a slowly progressing external change in the old man. Suddenly he grew taller, coat and beard longer. His simple cane stretched and warped in his wrinkled hand, and the previously gray eyes turned black as the night.
The old man spoke softly: “On the road so late, little demon? Looking for an easy victim, huh? I am very sorry to disappoint you, but your meal will not happen.”
That laugh again. The demon began to feel something he had never known before: fear! Incredibly great fear rose up in him, caused by the old man, his words, his gestures, his pure aura!
The old man slowly raised his now gently glowing staff, which caused a strange feeling to spread through the creature from hell. He felt like every little part of his demonic body was being pulled in a different direction.
The pale light emanating from the man's staff began to spread across the demon's body, the tugging and tearing growing stronger and stronger.
The demon felt all his strength dwindle and he was terrified to realize that he was completely powerless against what was happening.
"Unfortunately, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, little demon.", the old man said and suddenly waved his staff to the side with a quick movement. With a loud bang that easily drowned out the rain and storm, the demon, hovering a few meters above the ground, was torn into thousands of little shreds that were blown in all directions by the wind.
The old man, now stooped again and leaning on a simple cane, turned around and walked away, smiling softly, and thought to himself:
"These hell beasts think they can do anything these days!"
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