And so here you stood again, before that cursedly innocent oak door that gave no sign of the evil and depravity that hid behind it.

You knocked on the door. "My lord? It is I, Janx. I've returned."

No reply.

You tried the door. It slid seamlessly on its hinges, and then caught for a moment, squeaking unceremoniously. A flickering candle lit the room, and you saw your master sitting on a chair beside the bed where the monstrosity of his former wife lay. His rich brown hair was streaked with rivers of gray and white, but his eyes were happy and his mouth was stretched into a wide smile.

"Janx! Why did you not knock before you entered?" he chidingly reprimanded you.

"I did, my lord. But there was no reply, so I entered."

He cocked his head, confused for a moment. After a while, his face cleared, and he nodded to himself several times. "Monica and I were in the middle of discussing one of her favorite books. Perhaps we were too engrossed in our conversation, and neither of us heard.

So. Your master had fallen so far as to gift Lyon's marionette with the power of speech through his own delusions.

"In any case, Janx, we are glad that you have returned. But could you give us a moment together? Since Monica is so frail, as you very well know, I want to spend all my waking moments with her. Perhaps when her condition improves, you could help bring her outside to the gardens, where we may all breathe the fresh air and smell the flowers."

"Yes, my lord." You bowed out and retreated back to your quarters. Thankfully, they were still separated from those of the reanimated corpses that Riev had brought to work in the castle.

Lying in bed. The moon rose high in the sky, a waning crescent. You wondered if Orson was still awake. The creature had probably fallen asleep at this time of night. You shook off the blankets and slid your hand underneath your pillow to find the vial of crystal clear liquid. Hastily fastened a cloak around your shoulders and crept down the hallway and down, down towards that dreadful room of unholy secrets.

The castle was dark, having few windows to illuminate the shadowed corridors, but your eyes quickly adjusted and refocused to the low light. Almost there…

A sinister figure blocked your path. There was no doubt that he had seen you. Perhaps, you could explain away your presence with a feeble excuse…

"Janx! How good to see you, my old friend." Lyon, no, the Demon King, purred. "And where might you be off to in the dead of night? Sneaking off to see a lady friend?" He laughed quietly to himself.

"I merely wanted to check up on my lord and his lady," you replied. You were surprised at how steady your voice was. "It has been so long since I have last seen my lord, and this morning, he had dark circles beneath his eyes. I want to make sure that he is getting the rest that he needs."

"Is that so?" Lyon's eyes glinted red in the dim moonlight. "Then what's in that vial you're hiding underneath your cloak?"

You straightened up. Of course. What kind of fool were you, to try and lie to the Demon King? "I don't need to justify myself to you," you replied. "You'll see straight through whatever I say either way. Why waste our time?"

"Hmph. So I see you've developed some sort of a backbone." He sniffed. "Do you realize how easily I could kill you? But no. You are much too entertaining for that. And I don't particularly care if you kill your master. But can you imagine the pain of his betrayal? He trusted you, and you're going to repay his kindness and his faith with a tasty dose of poison. Guilt is a terrible emotion, and it will haunt you for the rest of your life." He smiled. "I almost wish you had the courage to murder him. Your moral misgivings would provide me endless amusement."

"Orson is no longer the master I used to know. Now will you step aside, or must I fight my way past you?"

"Really? You would harm poor, fragile, little me?" He smirked. "No matter. Orson is of no use to me anymore, anyways. And I doubt you'll be able to actually do it."

You ground your teeth together, held the vial tightly within your hand. He stepped aside, grinning widely. You didn't look back, but you could feel those burning red eyes, watching your receding back. You took care to open the door quietly. Should your master have woken up, it would have been difficult, though not impossible, to explain your presence within the room. This time, the hinges didn't catch and you were able to enter the room unnoticed.

The candle you had seen earlier reached the final stages of its life. It now sputtered erratically, vainly providing a wavering light for those who needed none. Your master was sound asleep, and the creature lay motionless and silent, save for a monotonic wheezing of its breath.

You held your master's death within your hands.

A/N: And of course, I decide to start writing this again during finals week. There is no end to my procrastination...