disclaimer: disclaimed.
dedication: to all you lovers and fuckers reading The House That Fear Built. We've been a long way, yeah?
notes: dicks. everything is dicks.
skewed-by-headcanon!alert: until canon tells me different, Takara is the Eighth King. just sayin'.
chapter title: millstone
summary: I wanna wrap my hands around that pretty neck and squeeze. — Exwires.
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Takara kills silently.
He kills when no one is looking. He is the knife in the dark, the prince playing court jester; he is arsenic slipped into tea on a summer's day. He kills in the dirt and the muck of a back alley, determined that no one will hear the victim scream.
His cover must not be blown.
Not yet, anyway.
He kills because he can, because it is amusing, because there is joy in the simple act of ending a human life. And he is unlike the others—Takara takes no joy in destroying demons. He's done it so often that it's got to the point where it bores him. He knows how to kill demons. They all die the same way.
But humans…
Well, humans are a different story entirely.
Humans die in a splatter of red as his claws shred through their vocal chords. It is a messy way to die, and the killing is all the more exciting for it. Takara kills because he is born of chaos and destruction, and those things work the best behind enemy lines.
And there is a vague affection for these strange little humans that he has learned with and watched for so many days, months, years.
But that would not stop him from killing them, if he had the chance.
His claws curve around a slim throat, and it is the fear that turns him on—yes, he kills for the fear, too, and feeds on it. She is lovely, but she will be lovelier with her blood all over the wall. Takara knows it for a fact.
And he kisses her without knowing her name.
"No one can hear you," he says.
She doesn't even have the time to scream.
And then he digs in, and rips out her throat.
Takara kills silently.
tbc.