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Owen stands before the mirror, his face twisted in abject disgust. He could barely bear to face himself in the mirror since his encounter with Apo in the maze. The return of his memories and former life reshaping his self-preception. For years, he had been forced to keep his demonic traits hidden from the world, as his father was ashamed to have a “demon” for a son. A secret, hidden under the guise of humanity, gnawed at him. An affair with a demon that resulted in his birth. His father, unable to accept his role in creating what he considered a “demon spawn,” had attempted to erase Owen’s demonic features. The fear of rejection ran deep, even after Owen lost all memories of his past life.
Owen’s not too sure how nobody’s noticed he’s something other than human, his horns and traits may be smaller than somebody like Apo or Krow but they were still relatively noticeable with his only cover-up being his thick head of hair and the flower gifted to him by Gracie. His horns were smaller than others due to his father, in fits of drunken rage, he had tried to sever his horns, a painful reminder of his perceived monstrosity.
Owen’s sure some people have probably connected the dots and realized he’s an inhuman monster but they probably chose not to say anything out of fear. He shakes the intrusive thoughts out of his head and focuses on the immediate danger. He needs to get back outside to discuss the lava slowly engulfing their small clearing.
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The group of outsiders stood in a circle around the crackling fire, casting long shadows on the clearing. Despite the heat radiating from the flames, the air was filled with tension. The looming threat of encroaching lava held their attention, and they were in the midst of a heated debate about their next move. Suddenly, a disruption sliced through the air like a knife. An enraged voice, thick with anger and accusation, pierced the tense air and the group parted to reveal Krow. It surged forward, a tempest of fury that the outsiders attempted to restrain by grabbing the bloodied and bruised figure.
“HE TRIED TO KILL ME!” Krow’s voice echoed through the clearing, It’s voice silenced the murmurs and arguments. It desperately struggled against the hands restraining it.
Krow isn’t dead… he failed he has to kill Krow before he can finish all of the demons off.
Owen stood frozen amidst the gaze of the group. His eyes met Krow’s, a silent exchange of unresolved conflict. The crackling flames cast eerie shadows on their faces. The crowd, a mix of confusion and concern etched across their faces, formed a barrier between the two. Whispers of disbelief and shock rippled through the onlookers.
“He tried to kill me!” Krow’s accusation echoed again, the words a haunting refrain that refused to dissipate. Each syllable reverberated through the clearing, leaving an indelible mark on the uncertain atmosphere.
The chaos swirled around Owen like a tempest, voices clashing in a mixture of anger and confusion. The crowd of outsiders had devolved into a chaotic chorus of accusations, each member vying to be heard over the others. Yet, amidst the chaos one voice cut through.
Graecie’s voice, on the verge of breaking, carried a haunting calmness that resonated amid the tumult. Her eyes wide with concern, met Owen’s distant gaze. “Did you do it, Owen?”
The crowd momentarily hushed by Graecies’s question, awaited Owen’s response. It was as if time itself had momentarily frozen, and the world held its breath, anticipating the revelation that hung in the balance.
“I did do it.” A sudden stillness descended upon the gathering like a heavy curtain, and the collective breath of the crowd seemed to catch in their throats.
Graecie’s voice, a fragile melody in the silence, broke through the tension once again. “Why did you do it, Owen?” Her words laced with both confusion and hurt. The question, a plea for understanding, lingered in the air, demanding an explanation.
The night crackled with tension as Owen lunged at Krow determined to finish what he started. The crowd gasped as Krow, sensing the attack, broke free from the restraining hands, A frenzied clash ensued, fists and fury intertwining. Owen’s punches echoed his inner turmoil, while Krow retaliated with demonic ferocity.
The outsiders, caught in the crossfire, attempted to intervene, forming a human barrier between the two. Hands grasped at flailing limbs, and voices pleaded for restraint, but the intensity of the conflict defied such attempts.
With a final slash of Owen’s dagger, Krow staggered backward, a gash across its form bleeding profusely onto the crumpled grass below.
Amidst the chaos of screams and accusations, Owen struggled to make his voice heard. “I’ve done nothing but help all of you!” he gasped, desperately trying to catch his breath. “I’ve disposed of all those creatures for the well-being of the clearing!” His words, though drowned out by the cacophony, cut through the uproar with an unwavering determination.
Owen’s hand sought out the familiar weight of his quiver, pulling out an arrow with a shaky hand. The sharp point pricked his fingers, drawing blood. “Now I will finish my job and dispose of the last demon remaining in this god-forsaken place.”
His gaze shifted towards the lifeless form of Krow, sprawled in the grass, blood staining the once-vibrant green grass. A solemn murmur escaped his lips, a whispered farewell to the fallen demon. “See you in hell,” he mumbled, the words lost the disarray. Owen raised the arrow to his skull, driving it through with all the force he could muster. He hears screams of horror from his former friends before he is met with nothing but silence.
Owen’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground, a poignant symbol of the irreversible choice he had made. His once- neatly tucked flower now soaked in dark red, lay beside him, a silent witness to the tragedy that had unfolded. The tangled mess of his hair clung to his head, matted and stained by the blood that marked his final moments.
As some outsiders rushed forward in a futile attempt to undo the irreversible, Owen’s demonic horns were fully exposed. The outsiders' faces etched with horror and disbelief, grappled with shock.
Among them, tears streamed down Soup’s face as she reached out to touch one of the small horns. Her trembling fingers brushed over it, confirming that these once-hidden features were indeed real. With a heavy heart, Soup stood up, her gaze shifting towards the horrified group.
“He was a demon the whole time.”