My baby was born on the thirtieth of October; I wished it were the first of November... She was born with deep black hair, and violet eyes. I had no idea where the violet had come from; it seemed to be her fathers' blue and my slightly reddish brown without the brown, melding together. When she was born, she was taken away from me. My baby was taken by demons, and I begged everyone to help me but... no one believed in demons. No one even believed I'd had a baby.
Eryka:
I wake up, my bed of bones and decaying flesh waking me with its putrid scent like it has several times a night since I was old enough to sleep in it. Apparently when I was a babe, I slept with my father, the demon with black hair and blue eyes that disguised himself as human to be with my mother. He took me from my crib one night and never gave me back. I'm only seven and already I have been taught to fight for my life, to kill or be killed. It has turned my violet eyes hard and cold. My hair was chopped short for convenience but I decided to grow it out, no matter what they said, I'd have my beautiful long hair. I wasn't human, I wasn't demon, I was both and yet neither. I decide that I'll be the best demon I can be even if I can't be as good a demon as my father. I'd do him proud, or I swear by god that I'd die trying.
I wake yet again, in the middle of the night, my own personal bed not smelling but poking me in the back a bit. I'd made my own bed after my thirteenth birthday like all demon spawn, made it of my own kills. It was all demons, demons that tried to take my place as princess or prince, tried to fight for their right to rule someday. But I held my own and killed them all. I had their bones picked clean and then I created my own bed mound with them. My father had asked me, "Are you certain you do not wish to keep the flesh on the bones? It would be far more comfortable and you could eat of their flesh anytime you wished."
"No father, I do not need their strength. I have my own." He had growled in that purring way he had and nodded at me. My father was seven feet tall with glowing blue eyes, black hair, red horns and a body covered in fur the color of his hair. His body was skeletal but not like a skeleton exactly, merely skinny and tall to a point. His body type was much sought after by the females, but he did not come to lay with demons at all. He preferred the soft body of a human female, he told me once. I'm seventeen now and I try very hard to be everything my father wants in a daughter. I am strong; I fight when I need to, threaten when I need to and kill when necessary.
I have not taken a man to my bed yet, though I have come close. My father says I still have the sweet smell of a virgin and it turns his stomach, I cannot do anything about it until I find someone I think will be strong enough to stand beside me. He must also be beautiful, I will not have an ugly mate, I deserve to have the best and I will have it.
I walk in the dark, my hair swirling about my body in a curtain of pure darkness. My eyes burn through the dark like a pair of demonic eyes is supposed to and my skin is so lightly pale red that I barely look demon-like at all. There are small bumps on my head, they will form small horns after I choose my demon male, they will be a way for him to hold me while we mate. They will also be another defense against those who would like to take my place. Demon women have breasts like human women but they're filled with acidic milk so the skin is tougher, scaled on the inside. I have soft human breasts with slightly acidic milk and slightly tougher inside skin, but the outside is soft as satin like any human woman's.
Many human men vie for my attention, thinking my reddish pale skin is exotic and not demonic in the least. I will not take a human male into my bed because there is no way for them to defend themselves against demons... other than, of course, the lords' prayer and other things of that nature. Crosses are disdained in my realm and many of the men in the human world wear them. I have no want for the burn of a cross in my skin.
There are a select few number of humans who know of demons. They either clamor to be mated to one or hunt them down. Demons only slaughter the humans that hunt them or stumble into their world and don't cooperate with the mating cycle. They rape them and tear them apart, sometimes eating their bodies sometimes not. The humans that salivate at the idea of a rape from a demon are the ones who are mated to them, and then sometimes it isn't all they thought it would be and they are killed for being weak and are replaced by a stronger mate.
I walk down the dusty road to find an old bar waiting in this, the middle of hell. There are males everywhere in the underground lairs so I have to travel around. I've looked for a strong demon to take to my bed for two years. I need to find one soon. Someone near as strong as my father, who's power will grow with age. Someday perhaps he will challenge my father and win, perhaps he will lose, but someone who would have the guts to try would be good.
I walk into the petrified wood of the front doors, swaying my hips as I enter the bar. They all look up, just a glance at first, and then a few keep the glance on me as I walk up to the stools that cover the front of the bar. I hop up on one and smile flirtatiously at the demon behind the bar. His chest is wide like a barrel and his waist is thin like my fathers', skeletal. His skin is scaled, rather than furred. Light purplish-black scales that cover his arms and some of his neck. His horns are rather large and impressive looking, I consider him but then I realize that if he were strong, he would be one of the served, not the server. I turn my eye to the room, watching them gnaw on the bones of their enemies and the bones of those weaker than they were. I make certain to puff out my chest, to display my breasts to their best advantage. Many of them take lingering looks at me in my leather off the shoulder, under a jacket attire, others staring outright and still others avoided looking at me at all. Perhaps I was too human for those.
I sigh in resignation, none of them had that hum of power that surrounded my father, none of them had as impressive a set of horns or skinny enough of a body. I got up and sighed, leaving the bar and stalking up to a portal to the other world, earth. I haven't been much but many of the demons went in human form for fun and to find someone to fuck in between mates. I didn't have a human form, I was too human to change my appearance and too demonic to look human after my first mating with another demon. After I found my mate I would never be able to travel here again.
I walk in on a massacre. It's a bar that's exclusively for demons, if the bouncers didn't sense a demonic aura, you didn't get in. I appear in front of it, sensing the death inside. I walk forward, pulling out my knife from the sheath straight across my waist in the back. It wasn't long, but it was sharp and wide, it'd do some serious damage to any demon. But what we had here was most likely human and likely to have guns, so I'd have to be careful.
I walk into the bar and hold my knife aloft, tucking and rolling when I hear the click of a trigger. There's a burst of gunfire over my head and I end up standing, staring at the man who shot at me. He aims the gun at me and asks, "You one of them? Or are you one of us? Identify yourself!" I raise the knife higher,
"I am Eryka, who are you?"
"I'm the one asking questions. Are you demon?"
"Do I feel demon?" I knew for a fact I did not. He took deep breaths and answered,
"Half of them felt less than demon."
"Do I feel demon at all?" He breathed slower now, his eyes darting over my form.
"Your skin's a funny color. And your eyes too."
"I was born with them. Most people just say I'm exotic, but funny-looking that's new." He looked like he was considering whether or not I was joking.
"Throw the knife down."
