Hunson Abadeer never once felt guilty for sucking the souls out of innocent beings. He never felt sorry for the mothers whose children he had taken away. He often watched them cry and scream for entertainment. He killed and tortured out of boredom, struck fear in the hearts of all beings. He never once had a problem with it; it was just what he did and who he was.
He was referred to by many names, some called him The Lord of Evil, others called him The Nameless one, but there was one little girl who called him Daddy.
Now he stood in his throne room, cradling his little girl's body in his arms. The other demons had left the room out of respect for their ruler.
His little monster was gone. Her fingers will never strum another guitar string and never again will she sing another song. She will never depigment another red flag, or scare the crap out of another candy person. He will never hear his daughter's laugh, or get her to smile ever again.
From now on, when he says, "I love you Marceline," he will never get a reply of "I love you too Daddy,"
The Lord of Evil let out a sob, and a tear escaped from the tear ducts he didn't even know he had. One tear, then two, then three, then countless others fell down his face as he stood there crying over the beautiful young woman in his arms, whose life was cut much too short.
