The lights burned his eyes, he couldn't step out into daylight. His skin was sickly pale, his glossy black mess of hair draped to his shoulders, every day it would grow back to this length. And every time he would stand in the mirror, shaving his face of the thick stubble, and snip his hair.
The feeling of the razor against his cold skin, it did'nt nerve him. The sensation of cutting skin was almost numb after so many times his skin has been cut by blades of many shapes and sizes. But he knew enough pressure, gentle strokes.
After the sink was filled with water, hairs running down the drain. The quiet background of the house creaking above his head. He started to smell the thick aroma of the coffee being poured into his cup upstairs. Grabbing his suit and tie after dressing appropriately he stepped quietly upstairs to the main hallway of His home. A docile place, a house like many others.
Entering the kitchen in a calmly manner, right to the marble counter. The lights hanging from the ceiling of the kitchen were dull a dreary, one of the bulbs flickering. But as he reached for the freshly poured cup his dead mind had stopped entire bodily movement. Who poured the cup of coffee?
His eyes wide open as his head turned to convey the room. And to the demons surprise, someone was sitting at his kitchen table. "So, you have something up you're sleeve? Poison my morning cup with something nice?" The demon picked up his brew of morning blend. Sitting at the table was a youth, a teenage boy with dirty sandy blonde hair and deep coral green eyes.
Dressed in a blood hoodie and white jeans, chewing on one of the hood strings. His voice oddly monotone. "No poison. I was too tired to put something together, so I thought I'd do something nice for you." Satou did'nt know how to respond when the young man raised his hand to show a long gash across his hand, wrapped up in bandaging cloth.
"You poured you're blood into my coffee?" He looked to the cup, if focused enough he could smell the tinge of blood in his coffee pot. "Why?" Was the first thing that popped into his head. "The old man is training you to kill things like me. Why would you help me Keiji?"
Keiji, the youthful wrapped his hand back up as he explained. "The night you found me, I was dieing. I had no memory of who I was or what was happening at the time. You gave me you're blood in an attempt to save my life, it succeeded. I lived, horrible condition but alive. Think of it as payback." He stood and headed for the hallway as he talked.
"I had hopes that my blood could sate the beast in you, hoping to save a poor girls fate." He left without hearing the demon grumble a thank you under his breath.
Taking a sip of his coffee, he could taste the boys blood in the brew, it was in the background, though for him it was stronger then the coffee now, filling his nostrils with each flare. His hands shivered from the feeling of exhilaration it gave him when he tasted blood, as if his entire body lit aflame with ecstasy. But even with all the joys of tasting blood, the need for it grew. It did'nt settle his thirst for more. So he drank, and drank. He emptied the entire pot of coffee. But it wasn't enough, he wanted more.
The throbbing in his skull, the sound of a beating heart. He could smell her. Kahako. "Why is she here?" There came a knock at the door. Keiji paced down the hallway calmly, talking as he walked. "I called her here for research! She's here to help sort out your brain a bit." He answered the door. It was also the first time he'd get to meet the girl the demon chose.
Satou stood by the kitchen door before the hallway. His head was pounding, his veins constricted with a clenched fist. His fangs slowly sliding back into smaller razor sharp canine teeth. "Warn me next time." He mumbled quietly to himself.
The House Kahako stood before was a rickety old home, it looks condemned. The mailbox full of letters. Windows smashed, unlivable. But she was called to this house, a damned household. To help her friend.
The feeling of the razor against his cold skin, it did'nt nerve him. The sensation of cutting skin was almost numb after so many times his skin has been cut by blades of many shapes and sizes. But he knew enough pressure, gentle strokes.
After the sink was filled with water, hairs running down the drain. The quiet background of the house creaking above his head. He started to smell the thick aroma of the coffee being poured into his cup upstairs. Grabbing his suit and tie after dressing appropriately he stepped quietly upstairs to the main hallway of His home. A docile place, a house like many others.
Entering the kitchen in a calmly manner, right to the marble counter. The lights hanging from the ceiling of the kitchen were dull a dreary, one of the bulbs flickering. But as he reached for the freshly poured cup his dead mind had stopped entire bodily movement. Who poured the cup of coffee?
His eyes wide open as his head turned to convey the room. And to the demons surprise, someone was sitting at his kitchen table. "So, you have something up you're sleeve? Poison my morning cup with something nice?" The demon picked up his brew of morning blend. Sitting at the table was a youth, a teenage boy with dirty sandy blonde hair and deep coral green eyes.
Dressed in a blood hoodie and white jeans, chewing on one of the hood strings. His voice oddly monotone. "No poison. I was too tired to put something together, so I thought I'd do something nice for you." Satou did'nt know how to respond when the young man raised his hand to show a long gash across his hand, wrapped up in bandaging cloth.
"You poured you're blood into my coffee?" He looked to the cup, if focused enough he could smell the tinge of blood in his coffee pot. "Why?" Was the first thing that popped into his head. "The old man is training you to kill things like me. Why would you help me Keiji?"
Keiji, the youthful wrapped his hand back up as he explained. "The night you found me, I was dieing. I had no memory of who I was or what was happening at the time. You gave me you're blood in an attempt to save my life, it succeeded. I lived, horrible condition but alive. Think of it as payback." He stood and headed for the hallway as he talked.
"I had hopes that my blood could sate the beast in you, hoping to save a poor girls fate." He left without hearing the demon grumble a thank you under his breath.
Taking a sip of his coffee, he could taste the boys blood in the brew, it was in the background, though for him it was stronger then the coffee now, filling his nostrils with each flare. His hands shivered from the feeling of exhilaration it gave him when he tasted blood, as if his entire body lit aflame with ecstasy. But even with all the joys of tasting blood, the need for it grew. It did'nt settle his thirst for more. So he drank, and drank. He emptied the entire pot of coffee. But it wasn't enough, he wanted more.
The throbbing in his skull, the sound of a beating heart. He could smell her. Kahako. "Why is she here?" There came a knock at the door. Keiji paced down the hallway calmly, talking as he walked. "I called her here for research! She's here to help sort out your brain a bit." He answered the door. It was also the first time he'd get to meet the girl the demon chose.
Satou stood by the kitchen door before the hallway. His head was pounding, his veins constricted with a clenched fist. His fangs slowly sliding back into smaller razor sharp canine teeth. "Warn me next time." He mumbled quietly to himself.
The House Kahako stood before was a rickety old home, it looks condemned. The mailbox full of letters. Windows smashed, unlivable. But she was called to this house, a damned household. To help her friend.