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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1960446-Philomel
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1960446
A girl runs into the demon Philomel.
The night was dark and the sky was stormy. Rain-laden clouds billowed in the distance. The forest was still save for the lilting birdsong that echoed through the leaves. The dead leaves rustled in the breeze.

Suddenly a figure burst into the clearing. A young girl stumbled towards a large grey rock. Her face was red and she was breathing heavily. She sat down and stretched out her legs. Her clothes were mangled and she was covered in dirt and mud. Her filthy hair was strewn around her face and there was moss underneath her fingernails.

“Run little nightjar. I will hunt you,” A voice whispered behind her. The girl shot up and bolted out of the clearing. She ran deep into the dense forest before she stopped again. She turned around to see the demon that was chasing her, hovering three feet off the ground.

The demon looked both old and young at the same time. His skin was translucent, clinging tightly to his bony frame. He had black circles under his eyes and his dark hair was filled with twigs and feathers. His neck and torso was encircled with chains.

“Who are you?” The young girl squeaked. The demon cackled and his smile almost split his face in two.

“I am Philomel,” He sneered, “ Master of the night.”

The girl narrowed her eyes. She ceased to fear the madman that hovered before her for a moment. He was small and weak.

The demon’s eyes widened, “You think I’m weak. You think I’m powerless,” He said astonished. Philomel pointed his hands at the ground: his palms facing towards the little girl. The earth at his feet began to stir. The girl backed away in fear. From the ground rose the pure white skeleton of a rabbit.

Using his palms as a guide, he led the rabbit to the girl’s feet. She stopped and looked upon it in more astonishment than fear. The girl reached down to touch it. Philomel smiled horribly and twisted his fist. The rabbit’s vertebrae snapped one by one.

The girl recoiled in horror, though; at once she got to her knees and cradled the ailing creature in her arms. Philomel grinned with delight.

“ Stop it,” The girl yelled, “You’re hurting him!”

The demon sighed and released his fist. The rabbit disintegrated into ash and dust. The girl silently cried into her hands.

“Oh, Sweetie,” Philomel said softly, “I was only trying to help you,”

“ Help me?” the girl whimpered.

“ Sweetheart,” He said, smiling sweetly, “You need to see how the world really is. I’m sorry, sweetie, but it’s cruel.”

The girl said nothing and only shivered.

“Shut up!” Philomel screamed at the top of his lungs.

“I didn’t say anything,” Said the little girl.

“Not you,” Philomel started to maddeningly pace the air. The girl started to back away slowly. “ Don’t move,” He snarled. He glanced at the girl and lowered himself to the ground. He started to walk towards the girl: his hollowed eyes trained on her face.

He tossed his chains wrapped them around her wrists. He pulled the girl to her knees.

“ You think I’m fake,” He growled,” I was an angle once. I sat by the sides of the greatest gods that ever lived. I was happy,” he smiled a little. “There was a god that no one remembered. He hated my control over death. He hated how I was able to revive the honorable and the innocent.” He paused for a moment then shouted. “That’s all I ever did! I only tried to help people. The people who couldn’t help themselves: murder victims, children who died of disease. I gave them a chance at life again. That god considered my work unholy and banished me to walk this dismal planet. He stripped me of my power and left me so I could barely raise the skeleton of a rabbit.”

“ I’m sorry,” said the girl nervously.

“I don’t want your sympathy,” He screamed, “I want what is rightfully mine. I want power and glory and the throne!”

“ What makes you think that you could get any of those things?” asked the girl. Philomel’s expression softened. H took the girl’s cheek in his hand and looked strait into her eyes.

“Sweetheart, gods fall everyday but only a few people notice it.” he said.

Philomel got back to his feet and returned to hovering above the ground. He looked shocked. Glancing around nervously clenched and unclenched his hands repeatedly.

“ He will come again,” he muttered

“ Who?” asked the girl.

“ Me, sweetie, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m scared.”

The girl moved towards him to try to embrace him. Lightning cracked and thunder roared in the distance.

Philomel roared like a lion that had lost his cubs. He doubled over in pain. His face was hanging just inches away from the ground. A strange blue light started to flood his hollow eyes. He looked at the little girl in absolute terror. He started to rise.

“Please…please, don’t let them take me.” Philomel began pleading to the little girl. “ They’ll torture me… they’ll kill me in every way they know I fear.” The girl just looked on blankly. “Please help me.” Philomel asked. He was silent and didn’t speak again.

The little girl looked on in a quiet relief. She walked away. As she walked away nothing could be heard but the lonely crow of a nightjar.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1960446-Philomel