Born of Hate
Twelve years ago there was a demon later known as Clear Note born. Unlike most of his race, Clear Note had been born out of hate, not love. The scrawny child he had been had been even tinier when he was born, held in an unloving mother's arms. His parents did not love each other. They had an arranged marriage and had detested each other more so when their son was born. At age of two the demon child knew better than to make a sound. His parents would be angry with him and stay that way in agonizing silence for many days. The child hated those times. It made him feel smaller and weaker than he actually was. His parents wouldn't call him by a name. He didn't have one. The demon child was an unwanted ghost born of hate. Sometimes his parents would not mind him for hours, and that was the time he liked the best. He could run free and laugh, and forget himself and where he came from. If only the other demons hadn't come. Most of the time they taunted him for his transparent clothes and thin face. He was much smaller than they were, and they relished seeing him cry. It was at the age of four did he realize his strength. The demon child was able to beat up anyone to a pulp no matter what the size. All the child's anger and angst went into those fights. It was the only thing that kept him sane.
The demon child had turned five years old when he had awakened his power of annihilation. His parents, the ones who had caused him the grief and pain of his bleeding heart, were his own victims. For some reason he felt no sadness as his power devoured them. He watched silently and emotionlessly as the arms, legs, and face disappeared from his gaze. His hated home he had lived in for the five years of his worthless life had been destroyed as well. When the King had heard of this demon child, he immediately locked him away from society. "That child's only reason for existence is annihilation!" The words still whispered in his ears years later. The child was not given anything except out of necessity. They treated him the same as them, except they beat him when he didn't comply with their demands to train him. "You need to gain control of your abilities," they said, and so the boy trained as much as he could…to kill them. I hate this world, he told himself as he fell asleep every night. I hate it. His still-scrawny hand fingered the place where his heart should be. I aim to destroy it. At age of ten he was released from that prison he had stayed in for five hellish years. Now everyone was afraid of him. The frail body and the worn clothes didn't matter. Somehow everyone knew about his abilities. They all ran away. The children cowered in fear when he went by, and the adults spat at his feet or his face as he walked by them too. They know nothing of pain, he had thought as he watched the children and adults play together. They think this pathetic world is perfect. I aim to prove them wrong.
And so the nameless demon became stronger. He didn't need anyone, or so he thought. At times he caught himself hugging his knees by the river, staring at his reflection with empty eyes, trying to determine his reason for existence. The demon had tried to make friends, with anything. But the trees wilted away and the animals fled at the sight of him. He was alone…and no one what to have him exist. When the battle for king came, he wasn't surprised that his codename was written down. They want to get rid of me, he thought with a bitter smile. He stared at the codename the King had given him. The codename he had when he was a prisoner. Z1197. He looked up at the sky, knowing for the last time he would be staring at this sky again. If everyone believes my only purpose in this world is annihilation, I'm certain they won't mind if my duty is to destroy the demon world. After all, that is why I want to become King.
When he came to the human world, so much was the same the nameless demon wanted to channel his power to destroy it. People ignored him. They ran away from him. And no one helped him. Eventually the demon child found another nameless ghost raiding a garbage can. The face was childlike with brown curls stained with mud and filth. His gray eyes were hollow, and the demon didn't allow himself to feel surprise that the human child was no more than two years old. The book was still dry in his hand, and on a whim, he gave it to the child to read. The nameless demon allowed himself a small smirk when he heard the first spell come out of the child's mouth.
"What's your name?" he asked in a quiet voice. Suddenly the child – his human partner – climbed down from the garbage can and slipped on the slick rain. The child's gray eyes widened in surprise when he was given a hand.
"I don't have one," the gray eyes seemed brighter than before. "No one gave me one."
"You're just like me then," the nameless demon could sense the child's shock and elation. Suddenly he picked the child up and held him in his arms. "You're abandoned, just like me." He felt the child's hands grasp his frail back…for comfort? When had he comforted anyone? "Your name will be Vino," he whispered.
"What should I call you?"
The transparent book in Vino's hands glowed with such brightness the demon child allowed himself a smile. "I suppose you could call me Clear Note."
I know what I am doing is wrong, but I want to take this child Vino with me. He knows the same pain as I have, and I will protect him from the very hurt I had experienced. I will destroy my world, and kill myself when my duty is done for…what I will do to everyone else.