Bonds and Connections

by Sylene Bloodrose

The demon within the emerald cave has waited over a century to get revenge on those who ended his life. After an encounter with there descendent, the monster soon begins the hunt to satisfy its bloodlust. All while Arthur, Vivi, and Mystery search for there missing friend Lewis, who may also being looking for them.

1. The demon

Chapter 1: The demon
Chapter Text
The Demon

1873

Thick dark clouds consumed the sky, blocking out the sun entirely. Faint rumbles could be heard in the distance, growing ever loader as the approaching storm drew near. The wind was picking up, bringing with it the scent of rain. A storm was coming. This was an obvious fact to the young man running for his life as he trampled his way blindly through the thick foliage of the woods that grew on the outskirts of his home town. The sound of dogs barking nearby sent chills down the man's spine. One of the search parties that were currently searching for him was hot on his trail. He couldn't let them catch him; it would be all over for him. He would certainly hang. Dark green curls stuck to his pale forehead with sweat. Labored breathing filled his ears as well as his increased heartbeat. He still couldn't believe this was happening. He had been so careful, always covering his tracks, never leaving evidence behind. Well except for perhaps some trophies he keeps locked in the caller. That being items that once belongs to his countless victims.

Besides that, he had always been extra careful. That`s why he had never been caught. But this time things hadn't gone according to plan, hadn't gone his way. How the woman had gotten away was still a mystery. The green haired man knew he had locked the latch to the cellar. There should have been no way for her to have gotten out. None of his other victims had. So how? How did that blonde bitch escape? It was truly mind-boggling. He remembers laying the tied up, unconscious woman down onto the thin mattress tucked into a corner. Then locking the shutters to the cellar with a padlock. The only way out had been locked from the outside. There was no logical explanation for her disappearance.

The lock was had still been in place when he had gone down the next morning to check on her. That had been the moment he had discovered she was gone. It was as though she simply vanished into thin air. Had she used magic to escape? No, that was absurd. The young woman he had met the night before didn't look like a witch. Though the question of how she made her great escape was still unknown. But there was one thing he knew for sure, and that was that he was screwed. He didn't even have time to pack anything up when he heard galloping near his home. The towns folk where coming for him, he knew it. Who knew how long that woman would have of had to make it back to town for help. He lived outside of town, at the edge of the forest. The town wasn't to fare away, but wasn't exactly close by either. She must have gone straight for the sheriff the first chance she got. He had to get out of there. The moment they searched his home, the cellar, to be more precise, they would discover the evidence needed to connect to the string of resent disappearances. It would seem that he hadn't been as subtle as he had thought he'd been. He had believed that the individuals he had made disappear wouldn't be missed, it would seem he had been wrong, people had noticed. Though it wasn't enough to deterrent him away from his killing spree. At that point nothing could have. The trophies he had acquired would be used against him. He knew he should have gotten rid of them, but he hadn`t been able to part with them. And now that was going to bite him in the ass. So he kept running, even when his lungs get like they were on fire, and his legs started becoming sore. He had to keep going. There was no way the story of Charles DeRail would end like this. He was an average man in his early thirties, of average height and weight.

The only unusual thing about him would be his mass of curly dark green hair, which was also the same color as his hair. Charles was currently wearing a simple long sleeved green button up with a pair of brown overalls and shoes. His simple appearance had allowed him to go unnoticed, working to his advantage as he manipulated victim after victim. Drugging and kidnapping them in the night without anyone being the wiser. Now it was all ruined because of her. A wave of white hot anger surged through him. If Charles managed to escape he would make sure to go back for her one day and bury her 6 feet under with like the rest.

Thinking back, going after the cute thing had been a mistake. If he remembered correctly, the blonde`s name was Agatha Rose, daughter of a wealthy family and fiancée to the owner of town`s tavern. It was actually just outside that very tavern that Charles had first seen the beautiful Agatha. It was late, the only light coming from the tavern. She must have been waiting for her fiancé, but it's not like he had actually asked. He had been on the hunt for new prey; it had been a few months sense his last play thing. It had only taken few moments. He had created a sound just loud enough for her to hear, but not to load to draw unwanted attention from the men inside. Once she had taken a few steps into the shadows to see what it was, he covered her mouth with a drugged cloth to render her unconscious. After that he simply snuck her into the back of his wagon then carefully made his way back to his home. It was once he had arrived at his home and shined a bright lantern onto her sleeping form that the man got a better look at his newest victim. She was small and slender young woman like most of the girls in town.

Though was made her stand out was her attire of bright orange and yellow colors. She wore a lovely orange dress with a yellow shawl draped over her small shoulders. An orange bonnet sat on top her head of long wavy strawberry blonde hair. To complete her look was a pair of yellow gloves that fit her tiny hands perfectly. Everything about her was beautiful, from her small round face, to her big orange eyes, and her adorable heart shaped eyebrows. Charles just couldn't help himself, he wanted her. If the green haired man was to be honest, he hadn't decided whether he was going to kill her quickly like he had most of the others, or keep her locked up to play with for while longer. Both ideas sounded appealing, and she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met. The second option was sounding more appealing now that he thought about it. He had always had a weakness for beautiful things, be it lovely ladies or charming young men.

It didn't matter to him as long as he had a pretty victim to play with. The trees began to thin out as Charles reached the edge of the forest, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was then that he realized that he couldn't hear his pursuers anymore. They must have lost his trail, for now anyway. Without anymore foliage to take cover beneath, the young man looked around frantically for someplace to hide out until things died down. Not far away, an entrance to a large cave came into view. Perfect. He ran for it, heading for the mouth of the skull shaped cave. Just then a gun shot rang out. A bullet ricocheted off of the rocky wall near Charles head.

Nearly jumping a foot into the air, he quickly turned to see who had fired. Steeping out from the trees was a young man around the same age as Charles, perhaps a few years younger. Charles recognized him right away as that woman's fiancé. Now standing before him was a tall, broad shouldered man with blonde hair and golden eyes. Eyes that now glared at him with the fires of hell. A shot gun was pointed in Charles direction. More accurately, his face. It would seem that Kingsmen was out for blood. Charles snarled, "What are you going to do George, shoot an unarmed man?" The broader man lifted a thick eyebrow as he cocked his gun.

"You? Unarmed? Like I'm going to believe that!" George spat back. "I'll make sure you never touch my Agatha ever again you sick bastard!" pang! Charles moved out of the way just in time to avoid a bullet between the eyes. It would seem that Kingsmen was hell-bent on being his judge and executioner. He needed to get away from him. There was only one option open to him, the cave he had already been planning to hide in. It only took a second for the green haired man to find himself tearing his way into the mouth of the eerie cave, deeper into its darkened pathway. Despite there being no natural forms of light to be found, a strange soft white glow covered the inside of the cave's walls. Unfortunately, Charles didn't have time to admire the strange sight, not with a man out for blood at his heels. It didn't take long for him to reach a fork in the path, two tunnels going opposite directions. Without thinking, Charles blindly ran for the left. He couldn't afford to stop to think about which path he should take, he had to keep moving.

This would end up being a fatal mistake. For it didn't take long for him to reach a cliff, he had hit a dead end. Looking down, Charles was met with a long drop to what appeared to be stalagmites below. It was almost too dark to tell, but he saw the sharp spikes waiting down below, as if calling for him. At that moment a thought flashed threw his mind, this would have been a great place to dispose of bodies. If only I had found it sooner. Turning around, Charles once again found himself facing down the barrel of a gun. He was cornered; there was no where left to run. Only death waited for him, both before and behind him. Charles reflexively took a step back as George came closer, his feet brushing the cliff's edge. This was the end. If this was going to be his last stand, he would go out starring death in the face. He hadn't been lying before when he said he was unarmed. He hadn't had time to grab for his gun when he had to flee mob coming for him. That no longer mattered. George Kingsmen cried out "Burn in hell," then pulled the trigger.

That plus the sound the shot's load bang would be the last thing Charles DeRail would ever hear. An unimaginable pain spread across his chest, blood flew from the wound as shot sent him flying backwards. He was suddenly airborne, falling as his consciousness faded. Just as death took him, another pain tore through his body. It was one of the stalagmites that he landed on. It had pierced through Charles back, protruding from his chest like a thorn. His mind didn't have time to fully process the new pain before it slipped away. His world became darkness, everything fading away, everything but the pain. Lying pierced on the pointed rock, the life of Charles DeRail ended in suffering. His dying wish was to make those two lovers pay, at any cost.

Green eyes slowly opened. Confused and unfocused eyes blinked groggily as Charles looked around to see where he had woken up. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying propped up against what felt like rock, a green mist circling around his body. He was at the bottom of a large cave, how he got there though, escaped him. Everything blurred together, his thoughts scrambled. How did he get here? The last thing Charles remembered was running for his life through the woods. He had been running from the town's folk who had been hunting him down after the orange clad woman escaped from his cellar. The mist around him darkened along with his thoughts. That Bitch, it was all her fault! If it wasn't for her, everything would have been fine. Stumbling to his feet, Charles looked up at the stalagmite he had been resting against. At the top he could make out a dark stain. What was that? Turning his head, Charles saw a cliff high above, a familiar cliff at that. His mind swirled with anxiety as he tried to piece together what had happened to him. He had been running, then reached the edge of the woods. He then saw a cave that looked to be a great hiding place, and then was confronted by Kingsmen…that's right, it was George Kingsmen. That bastard chased him into the cave and cornered him on that cliff. Charles felt himself be consumed with rage as he remembered.

He'd been shot by down, his body falling backwards into the jagged rock with the stained tip. That was his blood. That stupid tavern owner had killed him! The green mist that had been circling around him sense be woke up began to spiral with his emotions. The cloud of toxic looking mist expanded outward, tainting the soft white glow of the cavern's walls. Everywhere the mist touched, white light darkened to green. It was as if his very hatred was consuming the aria around him. Pure hatred for the ones who had caused his demise. He would make them pay, even in death. Charles was so wrapped up in his rage that he almost didn't notice that he was floating a few inches off of the ground. Catching on to his sudden weightlessness, Charles looked down, and saw that his feet weren't touching the ground. He was hovering in the air, another sign of his death.

A disturbing grin slipped onto his face; if he was a spirit now then no one could stop him from getting revenge. With that revelation in mind, Charles floated up the cliff he had been shot off of. He didn't know how much time had passed between then and now, but it couldn't have been too long, right? The absence of his body proved that he hadn't been left to rot like he would have thought. The green mist that continuously engulfed him, spread trough out the cave like a virus, infecting everything it touched with an emerald hue. Charles paid it no mind as he made his way to the exit. He was almost there, he could taste it. But just as he reached the mouth of the cave, Charles found himself flying face first into an invisible wall. His back collided with the ground as he was flung backward. What the hell was that?

Floating back into the air, Charles floated back over to where he had been pushed back. Extending out an arm, he felt a hard surface at the cave's entrance. Yet there was nothing there. Dread seeped into his gut as he felt around the invisible barrier keeping him inside. No, no, no, this couldn't be happening, he couldn't be trapped here. He had to get out of this cave. How else was he going to kill that bitch and her fiancé? Unfortunately no matter where he felt, his ghostly hands only found resistance. He remained there who knows how long trying to force his way out. But no matter what he did, he couldn't. How could this have happened? Was he trapped because he died here? Charles refused to accept that. He flew away from the cave's entrance, heading deeper to look for another way out.

Turning back, Charles noticed that the soft white glow the cave walls had produced before was now entirely green. In fact, he could also see a trial of his green mist flowing from where he had come from. Once more reaching the fork, he decided to go through the other tunnel. It led to the cavern he had woken up in. He had gone full circle. Days turned into weeks, which stretched to years as time lost all meaning. A fading figure sat on the cliff looking down onto the jagged rocks that took his life. Thick dense green fog tangled around his transparent form. How long has he been trapped here? There was no way of knowing. The ghost hadn't seen another soul sense the day he had woken up after dying. Left alone to wallow in his rage and hatred for those he blamed for his death. After all this time, Charles felt himself slip away. He would never get his revenge; never get to enjoy the feeling of making George and Agatha suffer. He might as well disappear.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt something approach. Curious, the green ghost headed to where he felt the presence. Reaching the mouth of the cave, he saw a young man in his teens standing just a few feet within. He had a head of mousey brown curls, brown doe eyes and a small tiny build. He wore a brown wool sweater, over dark pants. The style seemed odd to him, though who knows how fashion might have changed sense he became trapped here. The sight of the nervous young boy sent a thrill through Charles. The boy looked back as if looking at someone then began slowly walking forward. Glowing green irises fallowed the boy as he walked deeper into his cave. This was his chance. If he couldn't leave on his own, perhaps he would be able to with this boy's help.

Spirits should be able to possess the living if Charles remembered correctly. He had never done this before, though it's not like he an opportunity to try. Once the brown haired teen had ventured far enough inside, Charles lunged. The boy never saw it coming, didn't even have a change to cry out in surprise when the spirit launched itself into his body. It had been so easy, coming as naturally as he slipped into the other's body. It only took a split second and he was in complete control. For the first few minutes, Charles was completely disoriented. Sensations he hadn't felt in so long overwhelmed him. The chill of the cave hair on exposed skin, the feel of the boy's clothing, even the feeling of air entering his lungs as he took a deep breath. It was addicting, the feeling of been alive. Damn, it felt good.

"You ok in there Marco?"

A feminine voice called out from outside the cave. "You're not scared, are you?" A male voice yelled in response to the first. This one sounded mocking compared to the concern of the feminine sounding voice. So there were at least two others waiting outside for this Marco. Well that explains what he had been looking back at before. The words had snapped Charles out of his daze of hyperawareness. He had to say something to the others outside, Charles couldn't have them becoming suspicious before he got a change to get his bearing. "Yea, I'm just fine," Charles yelled back in the boy's voice. He then brought his now small hands up to his face. If he remembered correctly, his original hands had been slightly tanner then this boys. It was a small comparison, but it was enough for Charles to feel relieved that he still remembered what he had looked like. He hadn't seen his own reflection sense he died. From what the two outside had said, Charles could guess that this boy had been dared to come inside. He was kid once to, after all. He knew what it was like to be dared by the other boys.

Well, he might as well walk around to get used to moving in a living body again. Can't have them wandering why he just walked out after only being inside for just a few minutes. Charles had only taken a single step forward when he heard a soft whimper from the back of his mind. It was the boy's soul struggling for control. It was like a gnat he couldn't swat away, aggravating but tolerable. He paid the boy no mind as he casual strolled down the familiar cavern. He took the right tunnel and walked down to where the stalagmites rose from. Charles had roamed blindly through here countless times as a disembodied spirit; this was the first time seeing it through living eyes. The view was exactly the same, but the way he experienced it was completely different. Though he couldn't explain how even if he tried. Once he felt that enough time had been wasted, the possessing spirit headed back to the mouth of the cave. The closer he got to the entrance, the more nervous Charles became.

Here was the moment of truth; would he finally be free of this accursed prison? The outside was just before him, he could see the trees of the nearby woods, the blue of the sky, and standing not too far away were the two who he had heard before. He didn't pay them much mind as he stepped forward, closer to freedom. Just as he stepped through, he slammed into a very familiar force, forcing him out of the boy's body. Charles couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as his meat suit collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The girl gasped in fear and ran over to the smaller boy, the larger teen fallowing close behind. The blonde girl shook the brown haired boy on the ground. He groaned, but didn't stir. The larger boy picked him up, looked at the girl next to him then nodded his head. Rage flooded the spirit.

WHY?!

Why couldn't he leave? Was having a body not good enough? Was something intentionally keeping him here? Charles was so angry, he had been so close! Why was this happening to him? Glowing green irises watched the three depart, unable to do anything as they left him once again alone within the silent fog filled cave. More time past. Years flew by as Charles grip on his humanity, if he had any to begin with, slipped away. All that was left was anger, rage, and hatred. Charles didn't even feel like himself anymore. Something had changed sense he first woke up trapped. His ghostly form had faded away until all that was left of him was the green mist. He had become the very fog that shrouded his cave in its eerie emerald glow. That boy, whose name he never bothered to remember, wouldn't be the last to venture into the demon's domain. Each time he tried to use a living body to escape, Charles was met with the same fate. He couldn't leave his prison, no matter what he tried, so he eventually gave up. So why not have fun with his trespassers. Each time someone entered he would kill them like he had in life and would hide their bodies in a hidden cavern he had found deeper within the cave. It was fun, he could play with his victims all he wanted, and nobody could stop him. It would seem that his after life wasn't so bad after all.

This would all change, when one day he heard the sound of one of those strange contraptions coming to a stop outside. He had seen the bizarre carriage like objects that moved on their own along the paved road that had been placed near the demon's cave. Looking out from within, green eyes saw an obnoxious orange thing stop just outside. His anticipation spiked, oh goody, more prey to toy with. It's been a while sense he last had visitors. The first think he noticed was a girl in all blue jump into view from the other side of the bright orange contraption, her eyes filled with wonder as she gazed at the mouth of his emerald cave. A large man in purple stepped out next fallowed by a small dog, though it was too far away to get a good look at it. The girl in blue walked to the back of the modern carriage, he wasn`t too sure about what they were called.

He has heard people refer to them as cars, or trucks, and even vans. He wasn't sure which name was correct, or if they were just different names for the same thing. The demon watched the girl open up a door that led to the back, and then leaned the upper half of her body inside. She stood there for a few minutes, her mouth moving as she most likely spoke to a third person within. He couldn't hear what was being said, but she was most likely trying to coerce whoever it was to come out. The demon once known as Charles laughed at this. Over the countless years he had remained trapped, he had grown to find the behavior of the living to be, amusing. An orange figure finally stepped out, closing the door behind him. Once again he had guessed right, there was a third human. Excluding the dog, that makes three new victims for him to play with.

A trio of lives just waiting for him to snuff out. Focusing on the young man in orange, the demon couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà. He seemed, familiar some out. He couldn't tell from where he was, but there was just something about the third one's appearance that pulled at an old memory. The demon racked his brain, but the answer wouldn't come to him. Oh well, he'll get a better look once they've entered. The mist demon retreated to the fork where the two tunnels branched off. He would wait for them here to see what they did. Green eyes gleamed with excitement. Would they head down or up? Or better yet, would they split up and go both directions. He loved the sound of that; it was always easier to catch these silly humans off guard when they split up like a bunch of fools.

He didn't have to wait long for his prey to come to him. Two young men, a lady, and a little doggie. The girl and the large man in purple both help lit torches, light up the green fog that had continuously poured from him until he had become one with it. The man in orange hid behind the larger one, his eyes full of fear as he clung to him for dear life. Now that they were closer, the demon deiced to get a better look at them. The girl was cute thing in all blue with a skirt that would have been scandalous back when he was alive. The big guy was nicely dressed with a vest and ascot. And finally, third one who had seemed familiar from a distance, to familiar for his liking.

His hair was strawberry blonde, not quite blonde, but no red either. He had on some kind of orange vest and bright yellow pants. There was something about his appearance that just nagged at him, but what was it? It had been so long sense he had been alive, so long sense he had last seen someone where just bright clothing. Wait a minute, strawberry blonde hair, orange and yellow clothing, heart shaped eyebrows…oh…OH! Suddenly a faded image of a young woman in those exact colors flashed into the demon's mind. He looked like her, like that bitch that got away. Who had sicked her gun toting fiancé on him, as well as the rest of the down. A rage he hadn't felt in decades erupted from deep within him. He hadn't felt this kind of anger sense the day he died. How dare that boy remind him of that blasted woman! Oh he was going to make him suffer the most, play with him until he brakes.

Like he had hoped, the group slit up. The two men headed for the left tunnel that the demon already knew would take them up to the cliff where he had died. The girl went down the right one, the small dog at her heels. Though if the demon had been able to take his eyes off of the orange clad man for even a second, he might have noticed the suspicious look on the dog's face as it changed direction at the last minute to fallow the other two.

Once the two reached the cliff, the larger man leaned over the edge in a dangerous manner to get a better view. It would be so easy to push him over; the thought gave the demon chills. He knows what it feels like to end up impaled on those spikes. Then the Agatha look-a-like dipped his arm into a denser cloud of the demon's fog. This was his chance, while the big guy's bag was turned. The demon lunged for the blonde, he could already feel himself slipping inside, taking him over from the inside out. But just as he slipped into the man's left arm, he was hit with resistance. He had never felt anything like this before. He had always been able to take over instantaneously, but not this time.

There was something trying to block him. It slowed the demon down, but wasn't strong enough to stop him altogether. He slowly slid up the man's arm, completely unnoticed. He had to be careful, he couldn't risk the orange man to notice and alert the other before he could completely possess him. Unfortunately, like always, luck wasn't on his side. The large man with the puffy purple hair started to turn around just as he reached the other boy's head, alerting him to the demon's presence. No, this can't be happening. He can't let him interrupt him, he wasn't ready! Why was this boy so hard to take over, it's not fare. But he had taken over enough to do what he has to. The demon was in control of his entire left arm and the left half of his face. Just as he began to lift the arm he was controlling, the orange wearing man screamed within his head at him.

NO! DON'T, PLEASE!

The demon ignored the human to best he could, which was surprisingly more difficult than he was used to. It was too late anyway. Just as the other had turned partially around, the demon darted forward with his outstretched arm. It only took a single hard push, and the other was sent flying backwards into a free fall. The demon had been right, it was easy. But that control shattered instantly afterward, as the man who he was partially possessing wailed loudly. The other arm shot up and grabbed onto the one he controlled, holding it in place. He fought back against the demon's control harder than the entity had thought the small man was capable of.

Damn it, I can't keep this up, the demon thought as he pushed back as hard as he could. The resistance he felt before became stronger as he tried to spread further into the young man's body. It was because of this struggle that the demon failed to hear the man make contact with the stalagmite, as well as the woman's scream from below. In fact he was so engrossed in the internal conflict with his host that he almost didn't hear the deep growl from behind him. The two stopped there struggling as the hair on the back of their next rose. Both the demon and the orange colored man looked back as one, just in time to see a large creature come down onto them.

A scream of terror tore its way out of their throat, as they were slammed down into the stone floor of the cave. The demon felt hot breath on their face as the creature which, now that he thinks about it, resembles the mutt he had dismissed before. But that wasn't possible, right? Six tails waved behind the creature as it barred its sharp teeth at them, glaring holes into their skull. For the first time sense his death, the demon felt threatened. Even the boy cowered in fear at the sight of the large wolf like creature before them.

Without thinking the demon threw the only arm he had control over in front of them in a pathetic attempt to push of the monster pinning the two of them down. This would be a horrible mistake. For the moment he did, the creature lunged at that arm, closing its large jaws around the upper bicep just below the shoulder with bone crunching force. An unimaginable scream of pure agony was ripped from them. There two voices mingling together into a single screech. As the creature began to pull at the limp in its grip, the demon felt himself being ripped out of the boy's body. The demon refused to go out like this. He wouldn't go down with ought a fight. And it would seem that the boy he controlled felt the same, as fear consumed his mind to the point that he forgot about the demon. They were still screaming as the monster with golden glasses on its snout continued to shake its head back and forth, trying its best to rip his arm clean off. The demon's grip was failing; he was going to be ripped out along with the boy's left arm. In one finale desperate attempt, the demon grabbed onto the other's soul with a death grip.

Trying to hold on as he was slowly ripped out. He dug his grip tighter and tighter in the orange soul, refusing to torn out that easily. The man in orange continued to scream in pain as his arm was mauled by the beast above. Soon enough a ripping sound filled the air, as well within the shared consciousness of demon and human host. With one final tug, the boy's arm was torn from his body, as well as the demon that had tried to take him over. But flesh wasn't the only think that ripped. It would seem that the soul the demon had tightly gripped on to had also been torn. Body and soul had both been ripped apart by the savage creature's attack.

The demon felt disoriented as he felt himself trapped within a disembodied limb dangling from the monster's jaws. He flailed within its vise grip, as he tried to flee the arm, only to hit a wall when he did. It was like the one keeping him inside the cave. This can't be happening, was he going to be trapped within this limb as well as this cursed cave? The demon didn't have time to think about it as inhumane screams continued from the man he had just tried to possess. Blood pulled around his shoulder where his arm had once been attached to the rest of him. The sight was satisfying for the demon to witness. Serves him right for fighting against him. That was the last thing the demon thought before the monster flung him through the air, over the cliff, and down to the cavern below. As he landed onto the hard ground, the demon's last bit of strength left him. He consciousness faded, his word slipped into fog and mist.

Some time later the demon would wake up within a bloody severed arm at the bass of the stalagmites. He would once again try to exit the body, only to be met with failure. He was truly trapped in the orange man's arm. Soon he would notice a small glowing orange fragment floating inside of himself. And after reaching out towards it with his mind, he would recognize it as a piece of that man's soul. A piece he had torn away while clinging to it so hard. The soul fragment was letting out a strange energy that just seemed to call out to the demon. Pulling the fragment closer, he absorbed the aura that bleed out. It restored his strength a little. The feeling of the soul fragment near him was intoxicating. And as he drew more energy and felt it revive him, the demon would soon come to realize he had been gifted a golden opportunity, a second change to achieve his long forgotten wish.

Notes:

Hey everyone, I hope you liked my first Mystery skulls fanfiction. This chapter ended up a lot longer then I had originally planned for it to be. I had a lot of fun writing it and I do plan to continue, though I don't know when the next chapter will be finished. I hope you liked my origin of the green demon and its connection with Arthur. Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought, how I can improve in the future.