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disbelief
disbelief
Autor: Lyte

Alone

Autor: Lyte
last update Última atualização: 2026-01-21 00:26:20

Living in the human world wasn’t so bad, after I crawled out of hell a few years ago.

Learning their language and their social cues or whatever was pretty easy to grasp. Though these humans change every few seasons, there’s nothing interesting about them.

Talking to people became shallow and unbearable due to their small talk and awkward interactions. Yet I find myself drawn them.

Back at home, I was alone as I am now but it’s different now. Though not as much, it’s much nicer here.

Sitting in a random bench just watching the people be, the children playing. I never thought I would be free of that place. I was surprise to see how much stuff they had. It was a whole different world for me. I had help to adjust.

I end up going home close to midnight just to walk around at night and rejuvenate my skin with the darkness it brings. Though the motion brings up memories I’d rather not relive.

The truth is I’m alone. And it’s been like that always. I’ve never really minded it but some nights the truth hits me pretty hard.

The feeling of dread creeps up on me the closer I get to my home. The sinking feeling in my chest goes lower to my stomach at the knowledge that my home is empty and no one is there waiting for me. I mean sure I am a demon so I should be badass awesome and do whatever it is i please and so on but thats not how it is for me.

I guess the reason why I fit in so much with the humans is because I might as well be one. All the sadness and misery, the agony and suppression I feel them all as well and more so due to my heighten senses. I don’t want to live like a demon yet I won’t deny what I am. Sometimes I forget I am one.

Standing in front of my house I push in the key and turn, sighing deeply I enter my quiet home with a heaviness that I brush off like lint. “I’m home”, yep not even an echo. Walking to my room I won’t even stop by the bathroom I’ll just take off my clothes and just straight into bed most nights out the week. Too exhausted to do anything else anyway.

My mind instantly drift to lavender and a soft laughs I close my eyes due to the harsh sadness that washes over me at the thought of my junior, Peter. I start to quietly sob because in reality what else is there to do?

Nothing to change my thoughts away, no one for me to use as a distraction so all that is left is to sit with it forcefully and alone. My crying goes on and on uncontrollably, I honestly don’t even think it’s me at this point, even if I wanted to stop I couldn’t, the memories wouldn’t let me, something in me demanded I mourn him that I avenge him. I knew better of course yet these goddamned tears.

After I left my home my name and face was plastered across all stations in the underworld. No one really can just leave the underworld you need approval from the all mighty and have an escort to and fro with limited stay or you become rouge.

Choosing to become the latter my father becoming dramatic sent word that I left and now hunters are after me. I hate my father and no doubt he hates me. He just wants to save face and keep control over his things. I’ll show him quick I don’t belong next to him not now not ever.

The hunters are known for their speed and persistence also their winning streak, they always catch their prey. If I didn’t know any better, I think my father sent them to just kill me and be over with it. But no I’m alive and I get to decide who I live this life.

In the beginning of my departure I was careless, I got close to peter, just a kid really but I was vulnerable and I needed a friend, I didn’t know the human world and he had such a wide view of it. I just latched onto him and became attached.

I was optimistic for finally becoming independent and doing my own thing so I didn’t hide much or try to conceal myself so I basically made it easy for the hunters to find me. The hunter ripped through him without a second thought.

As we turn an alleyway. It was because I still wasn’t used to the sun so I was usually out at night and he insisted to come. I curl up into a ball as I reluctantly cried harder into myself. The way he screamed and the look in his eyes when he told me to run.. fuck what would he think if he knew that hunter was here for me, that I was a demon.

Woken up by the streaks of sunlight peaking through my window I wonder when I fell asleep. Like always I can’t remember much besides the crying and the faint smell of lavender.

I thought it was unusual for a male to smell as such but it’s the scent he liked most. It sizzled my nose but for him I endured it to the point of immunity.

Deeply sighing I thank the heavens for another day for the sun and my life, images of Peter’s bloodied body flash to vividly I almost curse the heavens for their cruelty instead I walk to the bathroom and brush my teeth, I sniff my hair shrug and tie it up as pretty as I can, put on a fresh pair of everything, smelled my pits and shrugged again put some liquid deodorant on and started my day with the heaviness that latched onto me like a second skin.

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  • disbelief    Gone

    I stand by the door. “What?” Race doesn’t look at me at first. His gaze is fixed past my shoulder, toward the bathroom. “Your shower,” he says. “You used half my body wash.” I release a slow breath. Fuck. For a second, I thought— “Oh.” I force a shrug. “Had to wash the dirt and blood off from the fight.” I walk over to the door. “Thanks for helping me,” I say, already stepping away. “I’ll be leaving now.” The air changes and he’s in front of me before I can blink. “You aren’t leaving.” The finality in his tone snaps something ugly in my chest. A statement carved in stone. My spine stiffens. “Move.” He doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything. I snap, temper flaring. “You think you own me now?” I reach for the handle. Pain flashes—sharp and sudden—as he grips my wrist and twists just enough to remind me how easily he could break it. I suck in a breath but I don’t cry out. “Don’t,” I say voice low and shaking with fury. “Fucking. Touch. Me.” His grip tighte

  • disbelief    Citrus

    I wake to the smell of citrus and smoke. For a moment, I think I’m still dreaming. My body is warm. Too warm. The air feels heavy, charged, like something has already happened and I missed it. When I finally open my eyes, I know instantly. This isn’t my bed. I push myself up slowly, my pulse kicking harder with each second as my gaze drags across the room. Dark walls. Minimal light. Shadows clinging to the corners. Books littering the floor. Race’s room. The realization settles in my chest like a held breath. I run my hands through his sheets, grounding myself in the sensation. Silk-smooth. Cool. Clean. Everything here is black and gray, sharp and intentional. Masculine. Him. I check myself quickly and release a quiet sigh when I see I’m still dressed in the same clothes as last night. At least he didn’t cross that line. The hair on my arms lifts anyway. I feel him before I hear him. “Didn’t know what you’d do to me if I changed you out of those clothes.” My head snaps le

  • disbelief    I’ll see you later

    *Flash back to when they were entering the portal to the underworld.* — Chyne watches Race as she enters the portal. And I watch her. Her head disappears and I face him. “How did u find me?” “Let’s skip the pleasantries.” Calm and collected. The mask he always wore. This should be interesting. I eye him expectingly. “While you were playing .. house,” He pauses and gives me a look. The hairs on my arms stand under my clothes and I fight the urge to shove him. Has he been watching Chyne as well? Or just me? And for how long. “Ive been busy.. the king seems to have made himself disappear.” He eyes me. As if he might catch something on my face. This is news to me but I won’t show my surprise. “Didn’t know you were into watching.” I say with indifference, placing my hands in my pocket. “Nothing worth staying up for.” He smirks when my skins starts to smoke of its own. Asshole. “Made himself disappear?” I repeat changing the subject looking down the portal. What is

  • disbelief    unbelievable

    Damien’s POV The heat hits first. Not the comforting kind—the kind that crawls under my skin, restless, wrong. I look up from the book in front of me and shot to my feet. She’s hurt. The thought slams into me with enough force to crack stone. I sprint out the room. The corridors at Races place blur as I cut through them, steam bleeding off my skin in sharp bursts. Soldiers scatter. Someone tries to speak to me. I don’t slow. By the time I reach Race from teleporting the first thing I pick up is the smell of burned magic, it’s thick in the air. Holy fire. My chest tightens. Race stands near the boulders, calm as ever, like the ground didn’t just witness a slaughter. He’s cradling her against him—too close, too familiar. Her body is limp, head tipped back, dried blood at her jaw. Something in me snaps. “What did you do?” My voice isn’t loud, but the ground beneath my feet hisses. Race looks up slowly. Annoyed. “Saved her.” I’m in front of him before I realize I’ve moved. H

  • disbelief    People

    I wake up coughing, dust coating my throat. I blink and take in my surroundings. I’m seated on the floor by the window. I must have fallen asleep there—thinking about Race. I grimace and brush myself off. I need to keep my distance from him. Damien doesn’t seem too fond of him, and if we’re going to be allies, I’ll side with Damien… for now. It’s early, and my loyalty is to myself alone. There’s still something Damien isn’t telling me. Until I know everything—inside and out—I keep my guard up. My power hums beneath my skin, stronger now. I use it to push the dust out through the windows and doors, cleansing the house in one smooth sweep. The air clears. The place feels lighter. I’ll need new bedsheets. Pillows. Basic necessities. I’d always like to stay to myself here as much as possible. Going to the village will give me a chance to think over everything that has happened. The walk to the village is long, but with my body is finally back in place, it feels more like a st

  • disbelief    Hopeless

    When I get outside, Kennedy’s emotionless face flashes through my mind. The urge to laugh bubbles up, sharp and inappropriate. I shove it down and put one foot in front of the other. I know better than to show emotion here. The bear-paw boots I brought from home do little to steady me. Every step slips on jagged stone. There’s literally no sane explanation for why there are so many shitty rocks everywhere. The irritation simmers, fast and hot. Fuck. This place is messing with my head. My emotions are everywhere—too loud, too close to the surface. I want to scratch something. Anything. I force myself to breathe. Deep. Controlled. It takes effort, but I manage to cage the turbulence clawing inside me. After half an hour of walking—yes, walking, everywhere, because of course—something shifts. The silence starts to empty my mind, and I recognize the danger in that. I shake my head lightly, but my chest tightens anyway, pressure blooming for no goddamn reason. I ground myself th

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