Birthed into Violence

1

The forest clearing was soaked red with blood, and the air was filled with pitiful gasps and crying. Opening his eyes the newborn imp, naked, and the size of a toddler blinked.  In front of him was his mirror image in human form, a child in a miserable state. The children’s eyes met, and from his covered birth place, the Imp watched the light fade from the boy's eyes. As a monstrosity closed its jaws, separating the boy's bottom half from his top. 

“No!” A girl sobbed, her face bloody and body mangled against the trunk of a nearby tree. As if she’d been thrown against it. Like when a child throws a tantrum and takes it out on their ragdoll. Even with three of its four spindly limbs broken, the monster easily turned to face the girl. Its long maw hanging open. The boy’s parts not chewed or swallowed yet, and it laughed, a hissing ugly laugh. 

Cursing, with tears running down her cheeks, she encanted words the imp didn’t understand. An arc of yellow light flashed across the space between the girl and the monster. The little Imp shuddered reflexively. Sensing the death that would await him, should that light touch him. 

Recoiling, the monster hacked up the boy's limbs, and barked. Before shifting its weight. A heavy, idle tail came to life in an instant. And with a horrible cracking, and splattering of parts, the young girl was no more. 

The monster sensed something beyond the Imps detection. Its broken body scuttled from the childrens remains as an arrow pierced its midsection, and then another. It hissed, and tried to swat away the next arrow but it missed and the projectile was lodged up, and through the monster's mouth. Its tip protruding dangerously close to the monster's eye.

Sensing immediate danger the Imp dashed away from his birthplace. Just in time to avoid the erratic spasming of the monster's heavy tail. Retreating toward a tall tree, his claws and talons carried him up effortlessly. From his new vantage point, out of the monster's range, he heard a man shouting. Looking down with curiosity, he saw a grown man, facing down with the monster. 

Bow drawn, he released another arrow, but the monster dodged it, and with a powerful kick-off from its tail, launched itself at the man. It snapped its jaw tight around the man's bow arm, landing on top of him. It’s one unbroken hoove surely breaking the bones beneath it. 

With a mix of guttural roars, and screams of pain, the man stabbed the monster with an arrow he failed to notch. Over and over, taking advantage of its jaw locked around his arm. He was sprayed with blood that was sure to be toxic to him, but he did not relent. Until with one last scream, he drove his arrow through the monster's eye. Twisting it deep into the creature's skull. It shuddered, and died, the monster was finally slain. The man struggled to remove its carcass from on top of himself; the man began to scream as he looked around. 

“Revira! Tollin, no, please, no.”

The man cried out as he dragged himself toward the boys remains. But his strength was spent and the Imp watched as he collapsed shortly before the boy's torso. Imps' attention didn’t linger on the man for long. Instead he was enrapt by what the man was crawling toward. Unfurling a pair of small wings on his back, the Imp gave them a few test beats before gliding down to the boy's body. 

There, above his chest was a light emanating from him. It did not reflect in the boys vacant eyes. Squatting beside him, the Imp wondered at it. His mouth watered, and his belly growled. Slowly he reached out to touch it. And when he did his mind went blank, far from any thoughts of hunger. The Imp was overcome with warmth, joy, but most of all curiosity. And though he did not know how he knew.

“This is a soul.” He whispered, and gently cupped the light pulling it close. He held it like a precious secret close to his heart.  

Looking up he saw, the light from where the girl once rested was almost gone. He rushed to it and collected it carefully. The light and warmth were not as mesmerizing as the boys, but still, he has a hard time looking away from it. He admired them both in his hands with a smile. Then looked up from his still wet and bloody perch, as the man’s groans stirred him from his thoughts. 

“Not dead, huh?” Imp asked with a wide grin. Preening his feathers, he quickly made nests for the children's souls. He closed his wings, safely storing them away. From the blood soaked tree trunk he carefully made his descent and crawled toward the man. Cautiously sniffing the air, and approaching slowly until he was on top of him. The man remained silent and still even with the little demon perched on his back. 

Though he wasn’t dead, Imp could sense he was dying. Carefully as to not dig his claws and talons into the man's back, Imp hopped off and continued to sniff the air. A clear path from whence the man and children came became evident. Looking back toward the man, and the path that lay ahead. The Imp contemplated for just a moment before standing, and getting to work. 

A chilled breeze passed through the clearing, helping to remove the noxious smell of the slain monster. It rustled the gold and red leaves from the trees. And tossled the Imps gray hair. He shivered but his grin didn’t fade.