He paid little mind to them since he would eventually usher them out so he could seal them away. He turned his gaze down to the one writhing beneath him, yelping and barking. It had eaten many humans, but it couldn’t speak.
Orpheus grabbed one of its wrists and brought its claws to his snout. A snarl tore through his throat as he opened his mouth to bare his fangs. The dried scent of Reia’s blood stained it.
“You’re the one that hurt her.”
He would get to fulfill his desire to maim in vengeance after all.
It whined and wailed as he pulled on its wrist, slowly, oh so very, very slowly, tearing its arm from its shoulder. Delight soared through him as the sounds of skin-tearing, muscles-ripping, and bone-dislodging played in his ears like a wonderful song. Its horrified, pain-filled cries sent a shiver down his spine, ruffling all the inhuman parts of him that flared without cloth to keep it down.
Demon blood, being so foul, rarely stirred hunger in him.
He threw the severed limb to the side before he moved to the other hand, sniffing it to check that it had also harmed her. It had. He did the same, his tongue darting out to slip over the bony edges of his snout, as blood burst from its shoulder when it too was removed.
It gargled, trying to form a word. Perhaps stop or please.
This was a medium Demon, strong for a human to fight, but weak to Orpheus. Grabbing all its parts, its armless body thrashing in pain and fear – the scent wafting from it – he dragged it out of the salt circle.
It cried, knowing exactly what he was about to do next.
He threw it through the opening. Patiently, he waited, watching as it tried to crawl away with its back legs and torso.
The other Demons fell upon it, called by its blood, its fear. The ones that had been inside, unsure of how to get out, raced for it. It was eaten by multiple mouths, yelping as it was consumed before it was silenced when it became nothing more than a corpse to be fed upon.
He turned to collect his items to fix the salt circle.
Once he was done, he made four trinkets to protect the house, seeing that Reia had replaced the two over the porch which was the only thing that kept them at bay. The Demons had been trying to scratch their way through the other side of the house, a small hole had been dug where he’d boarded up the window in her room.
She was lucky and smart. He’d woken in time to prevent them from getting inside and he thought by dawn – since it was night-time – they would have made their way inside.
Then Orpheus left his home to make his way to where she’d dropped the amulet. The dagger was gone, but the circlet tiara remained undisturbed. He bent over and picked it up, placing it in his pocket before returning home.
He checked the garden to find it was trampled, but mostly intact.
There was one last task he needed to complete, one that required he go to the stream to fetch more water. He was uncertain about leaving her, worried she’d run, but she’d promised him she wouldn’t.
He thought she might be asleep the whole time regardless.
There was blood all the through the house, his blood streaking across the ground. He would spend the rest of his time cleaning so that Reia could wake to a clean and tidy home.
It was only when Orpheus was done bathing in the tub, removing the remaining grime from his body, did he discover Reia had awoken. He’d been walking past the door to head toward the living area and poked his head inside to check on her, as he’d done often over the many hours she’d been asleep, to see her sitting upright in his bed.
If the sight of her as she sat with her knees up, arms folded and head buried against them hadn’t already unsettled him, the sound of a sob would have.
He tentatively entered the room, unsure if she would want him near her right now. In the past, the humans always preferred it when he was as far away from them as possible when they cried.
“Why are you crying?” he asked softly, tilting his head to the side.
“I miss my family.” She held her legs tighter. “I’ve missed them for so long.”
He slowly crouched down on knee next to the bed, lowering himself so he wasn’t a looming figure over her.
“What happened to them?”
He didn’t know if she’d tell him. She’d refused to before.
“I killed them,” she cried, her back heaving as her breaths shuddered. “They’re dead because of me.”
The desire to touch her with a comforting caress was too much for Orpheus to bear. He sheathed his claws and slipped his hand between her knees and head, lifting her face so she’d greet him.
“The Arachnid of Sorrows showed you your family, didn’t she?”
Her lips trembled when they parted on another sob before her head nodded.
“I saw my mother, my father, my baby brother. I heard their voices. I haven’t seen or heard them for so long. Not since I was a little girl.” Her brows drew together and her forehead crinkled into so many creases. He’d never seen anguish this deep on a human before. “A-and they’re all dead, all because of me. Why couldn’t I have died too?”
“How did you kill them, Reia?”
She tried to turn her face away, but he cupped the side of it and kept it firmly faced toward him.
“I brought the Demons to our home.” Heavy tears fell faster. The lines of her glassy eyes pink and raw, her nose and cheeks puffy and red. “I’m a harbinger of bad omens. That’s why the villagers forced me to offer myself to you. They wanted to get rid of me because all I do is bring death!”
“What is a harbinger of bad omens?”
He’d never heard of such a term before.
“It’s someone who brings Demons to those around them. Someone that the Demons don’t kill while eating everyone else.” Her hands raised to clutch his wrist as he continued to hold the side of her face. “I hid in the corner and let my family die. I-I did nothing to save them. It’s all my fault. I think two or three Demons attacked my home, and I brought them there by my cursed luck. I-I’ll probably get you killed too.”
“There is no such thing, Reia,” he answered with a subtle shake of his head while trying to not make it rattle. It was the truth, he knew it to be. “Were you afraid?”
“No? I don’t think so. I just remember sitting in the dark and covering my ears from the gross sounds.”
So, she’s always been with little fear.
“Demons like the taste of fear, and once they have killed, they are consumed by what they are eating. If you weren’t afraid, they were probably too distracted by the blood of your family to even know you were there.” She shook her head, telling him no, as she opened her mouth to rebuff him. “If you were quiet, made no noise and stayed out of sight, without your fear guiding them to you, they wouldn’t have been able to smell you if your scent was already strong in your home.”
“But if I hadn’t just sat there, I could have—”