But there is no safety in words.
Bianca's eyes found the flashing neon lights at the corner of the street, where her safety net ways placed. She found it odd, for only a handful of minutes ago was the street completely vacant. How could anyone find the time to set up shop now, especially on Devil's Corner? Especially when the evil tower erected not even a mile away! How stupid were these people? Did they have a death wish?
She huffed softly, quiet as a mouse, and shook her head.
They were probably here to help, she told herself. They knew what they were getting into the moment they decided to get into it, much like these devils. Dancing around with blood on their hands and bones between their teeth. The people taking up residence here in the city on her precious corner must have known full well that this wouldn't be easy... She thought of them as exterminators. They could possibly be exterminators. Yes, that had to be it.
Because, if not, who was going to save the city?
A hiss broke through the silence, overpowering her soft breaths and even softer footsteps, and a freezing air touched her skin. Fear tickled her nerves and she let out a whimper, her hands shooting up to her mouth to silence it. Her heart raced against her rib cage, beating against it like a ferocious drum. And under a streetlight stepped the most hideous and frightening creature Bianca had ever seen. Blood poured from its mouth all twisted in a jagged grin, teeth mangled and sharp, and its eyes a piercing violet, narrow and void of humanity. Dressed in nothing but torn red robes and thick straps, it held onto a gnarled scythe like its hands had melded with the rusted metal. She blinked at it a few moments, fear completely overtaking her. It knew she was afraid and its evil grin widened, spreading its feet apart in the pool of blood it stood in, as if preparing to chase after its prey like a cat did a mouse. Hungry and frothing at the mouth. A disease ridden dog blindly snapping its jaws at whatever lay in front of it.
A shiver ran down her spine and she took a step back, her heart trying its damnedest to burst out of her chest. She couldn't breathe. This was what all those poor children had seen before their tiny souls were snatched from their bodies. This is what they had to look forward to when they left their homes to run away. This is what she had to look forward to. Her death was staring her in the face and she couldn't even breathe. She couldn't stand against it, defy it, cheat it. She stood no chance anyway.
She was going to die.
Hot tears stung her eyes and a tight knot rose in her throat. The demon took a step forward, a sickening crack sounded underneath its mottled, enormous foot, the bones of the dead shattering. Her blood ran cold and she grew stiff. She knew it. She knew it, she knew it, she knew it. It chuckled at her and flashed before her, poised with its scythe at her throat and its face in hers. And now that she could see it so clearly, she saw her fate splayed out before her in its ill violet eyes.
A flurry of claws and fingers flew into her blond hair, bringing with them white hot pain and a jerking pull. And she'd never felt such pain, not even from all those times her mother beat her. She screamed at the top of her lungs.
It cackled. "Lookit what we've got 'ere," it squealed, its voice a twisted laugh at best. Like it enjoyed what it was doing far too much. It tightened its grip on Bianca's hair and breathed in her face, drool and blood dripping from the spaces between its teeth.
She screamed once more and threw her hands up to the demon's clasping her hair in an effort to lessen the pain. She struggled, her head pounding and her scalp burning. It only laughed in her face.
"The scared mousy spawn of 'at traitor's most trusted friend, eh? I can only imagine how great you'll taste, lit'le mousy." The demon cackled, clotted blood splattering across her skin and clothes, and the cool metal of its scythe was lifted from her throat. It let go of her hair and she fell to the ground with a pained yelp, splashing into the river of blood in the streets, crying and crying and crying some more. Her heart beat was outrageously hard and fast, beating against her rib cage like an angry man beats on a drum in war time. And it all hurt so bad.
She just cried.
And through her tears she did see the glint of the demon's scythe in the blood, flashing above her to deliver that killing blow she knew would come. Her heart skipped beat after beat, pounding in her chest, and her head throbbed with it. Tears fell like the rain. She knew she was going to die. She knew it, and she could never be told otherwise. She saw it in its eyes, smelled it on its breath. She knew it. And in no more than four seconds would she be dead. Dead. She'd never come back.
Oh gods, why did it have to sound so permanent? It was only stasis, a time for rest before rebirth or heaven. That's all. But she'd never return. She herself, in this body and this life, would never come back. She gazed into her reflection in the blood, ignoring the pain and fear now, and waited for that slow-motion blade to run her through, slice off her head, or slit her throat. She waited. She cried, but she waited.
And just as the cool blade met her skin-
"Woohoho! Not today, buddy!"
Gun shot.