Rasuke's blood hurt.
The pain spread in thin, piercing lines through his body. He fought to control his breathing as it threatened to outrace even his own gunshot heartbeat.
He’s a Demon.
Imagined claws pulled at his own face as if pulling it off would save him from the agony, the fear, the rage. The three confused into a boiling mass and escaped his body as a vision, hideous and fearsome, tearing at Leo's form.
The Demon didn't react, knowing nothing of the imagined foe attacking him. But he looked upon Rasuke with concern. “You okay?”
It stopped.
He felt perfectly normal all at once, but for the difficulty in his breath. When it, too, had faded, he finally blurted out, “I feel like shit.”
Leo nodded. “At least they taught you fun stuff. What's wrong?”
Rasuke shrugged and shook his head. “I just... panicked. Just now. For no reason.”
“Oh, Phoenix,” Leo sighed. “You really think it was for no reason? None at all?”
“I think it had something to do with... you being a Demon,” Rasuke admitted. “I don't even know what they are.”
“It's okay to hate us,” the larger boy said. “I'm not at all proud of what I am. We're despicable—detested for good reason. My race is responsible for so much pain. Including part of yours.”
Rasuke looked up into Leo's blue eyes just then, suddenly interested and alert. “What do you mean?”
“The story begins in Hell, as most Demon stories do. That's where we're born, or made, as the case may be. Everyone there is subjected to so many awful conditions... and most importantly, the rage of the other Demons. I used to spend my days there, rescuing those who seemed unaffected. And that's how I first met you.”
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