The Blade That Burned (Part III - The Demon That Never Left)

I was running.

Running with Annya clutched tightly in my arms—past the bleeding palace corridors, through the shattered gardens, over the corpses of servants and knights. The once-proud marble walls were painted with gore, and the air reeked of burnt flesh and betrayal.

And then—

We reached the village.

But it wasn’t a village anymore.

It was a graveyard sculpted by nightmares.

Limbs—ripped clean off—lay scattered like broken toys. Villagers were butchered, their stomachs torn open, their intestines coiled like ropes across the mud. Children… charred down to dust, barely human, their fingers still reaching out for help that never came.

Heads. Dozens of them. Jammed onto wooden spikes and wagon wheels, their mouths frozen mid-scream. And the fires… they weren’t just burning homes.

They were consuming souls.

It was hell. Hell on earth.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees, choking on the thick, iron-tasting air. My vision blurred, not from smoke—but from something far worse.

Because there, in the heart of the inferno…

He was waiting.

The demon.

The same one I saw thirteen years ago, in the flames that stole my parents, my childhood, my soul. That twisted silhouette with eyes like burning hatred and a presence that crushed the world into silence.

His aura hit me like a sledgehammer.

I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t think.

All I felt was my heart tearing itself apart inside my chest—trying to escape the monster I could never forget. Every cell in my body screamed to run, to die, to disappear.

And I would have.

But then—

“...Hey.”

Her voice.

Annya’s voice.

Soft. Human. Alive.

She dropped beside me and wrapped her arms around me. I was shaking, drowning in fear—but her embrace pulled me up from that endless pit.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t fear me.

She just… held me.

And for one stolen moment, in that burning world of death…

She became my dawn.

We ran again. Into the forest. Deeper and deeper, the darkness closing in behind us.

But fate wasn’t finished.

They caught up—the executioners.

Dozens of soldiers. Mages with their staffs glowing. Assassins with blood-soaked blades. And their eyes all said the same thing:

“Kill her.”

“Just die already, you cursed witch!” one spat, his face twisted with hate.

I snapped.

I stepped forward—trembling, broken, furious—and screamed:

“WHO decides what’s right and wrong?!
WHO dares to judge who's cursed and who's not?!
WHO the hell gave YOU the right to decide who lives—
and who should fucking DIE?!”

They sneered.

One of them hurled a fire spell straight at Annya.

The instant he moved, his arm exploded—torn apart mid-cast, reduced to a red mist. He didn’t even have time to scream before he hit the ground, convulsing in agony.

I didn’t remember moving.

I didn’t remember thinking.

But something had awoken.

Something… that should’ve stayed buried.

My skin cracked. The air around me collapsed into silence. A wave of black energy erupted from within, swallowing the very light. The grass died beneath my feet. The wind reversed.

The world itself… backed away.

An aura—so monstrous, so drenched in rage, grief, and agony—it silenced even death.

Annya stepped back.

She, who had faced curses. She, who had touched darkness.

She sweated cold.

Her eyes were wide.

She whispered, voice barely a breath:

“...What are you…?”

Even she couldn’t recognize me.

Because I wasn’t me anymore.

I was what they turned me into.

I was every scream I’d buried.

Every corpse I’d stepped over.

Every tear I never cried.

And then—

Darkness.

When I opened my eyes again…

The sun was rising.

The cliff was painted red.

And they were all dead.

Every last one of them.

Torn to ribbons. Crushed. Eviscerated.

Some had been split in half. Others had their faces caved in by something monstrous. Blood soaked the earth like rain. Limbs hung from branches. Eyes stared from the dirt—still wide with terror.

This wasn’t a fight.

This was slaughter.

And I… I had done it.

Annya stood beside me, untouched, unharmed… but trembling.

She didn’t say a word.

She just stared at me.

Not like a savior.

Not like a friend.

But like I was the thing the world should fear.

And in that moment…

So did I.