By Parker Nutter

The demon cowers with his midnight scleras becoming more and more visible, lips pulled back in fear, revealing rows upon rows of sharp teeth. The normally arrogant and ferocious creature was now in a state of pure terror. As my hand lowers itself to feel the hilt of my dagger, the demon makes a motion as if trying to escape from its horrible fate. I stab my dagger into the floor, a mere inch from where his hand rested a moment ago. His hands pull back in shock. In his eyes, I was the judge, jury, and executioner. He should be glad that this is what’s happening to him. My hands make their way around his neck, slowly gripping tighter with each breath he takes.

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