The girl in the photo on her wall blinked. She was a rather nice looking girl, really. Her hair was long and silver, glowing in a light that shone from far outside of the picture frame. She had the most beautiful deep green eyes, and freckles scattered her nose. She had a sweet smile. 

“It’s too bad,” thought the woman outside of the photo, staring at it from only a few paces away. “It really is too bad that such beauty has gone to waste.” 

The woman pulled a dagger from her boot, flipping it in her hand so that she pinched the tip of the blade. She cocked her arm back, preparing to send the dagger flying into the photo of the silver haired girl. But then she paused, her breathing heavy. 

The girl from the photo stepped out of the picture, entering the dark room with the woman who’s chest rose and fell rapidly. The girl’s hair did not glow in here, but her beauty was still surprising to the woman. 

Why couldn’t she just throw the dagger?

“Why can’t I kill you?” Seethed the woman, her dagger still raised in her arm. “You… you took everything! You deserve to die!” 

The girl smiled sadly. 

“Maybe you are right—maybe I do deserve to die. But, killing me won’t bring them back.” Said the girl, stepping closer to the woman. 

“You’re a demon!” She yelled. She was about to continue when she was cut off. 

“And you would be one too, if you killed me.” The girl spat, her words as sharp as the blade that was still in the woman's hand. 

The woman tried and failed to suck air into her lungs. She felt as if her throat was closing, and she clawed at the skin stretched across her trachea, dropping her dagger in the process. 

She wasn’t a demon.

She wasn't like the girl. 

She didn’t kill countless people and—

But… wouldn’t she be like the demon if she killed the girl? 

Wasn’t she like the demon for even considering it?

The woman collapsed to the ground, tears now streaming from her face. She folded in on herself, sobs racking her body. Her hands clawed at the ground, she begged to anyone who was listening for a better life. She begged, and begged, and begged. 

But nobody came to save her.

It was only her and the demon in this room, and now that she had put her dagger down, she knew that this was the end.

She would die.

But the woman still had questions unanswered, and so she decided to ask one, knowing that this was her last chance.

“Why?” She sobbed. “Why did you kill them?” 

The girl looked sad as she turned her head away from the sobbing woman on the ground. 

“I had to.”

“Why?” The woman screamed. 

The girl exploded suddenly. 

“Because!” She shouted. “The other demons, they have my family! They said they would kill them! I had to…”

The girl swallowed and straightened, not allowing herself to weep for the family that she hoped she would one day be able to see again. She lifted her chin. 

“I must be brave—for them.” She said. 

Then, as if out of thin air, a sword appeared in the hands of the girl. She saw, for a moment, her green eyes shimmering in the reflection of the metal, but she didn’t allow herself to look for long.

Those eyes are dead inside, she knew that looking into them would only remind her of the soul that she lost when she became a demon. 

“I am so sorry.” She whispered, and then she stabbed the sword through the woman's chest.

The woman screamed, but her pain was short-lived as the light faded from her eyes, and she toppled over sideways, her body soundless as it hit the ground. 

She would have an easier death than her life. She would be with her family.

Still, the girl covered her mouth as blood leaked from the wound of her sword, pooling on the ground around the woman. 

One would think that a demon couldn’t feel emotions or wouldn’t care for the people she killed, but this demon was different. This demon never really lost her soul, no matter how much she believed she did. 

She still cared, just as she cared for her family that she was trying to save. 

She fell to the ground beside the woman, her long silver hair dragging in the blood when she bent down to press a kiss to the woman’s still warm cheek. 

Her legs, her hair, her hands—they were all covered in the blood of the woman that she had just murdered. She knew that the blood would wash off of her skin, and that she could cut her hair… but she felt as if the blood were staining something deeper than her skin and her hair. She felt as if a deeper part of her was being eaten away by the blood of this innocent woman. 

She raised her eyes to the picture on the wall, now just an empty frame. The other demons would enter through that portal and be here soon to ensure that she had completed the job, and to take her back. She needed to clean up this mess before they got here. 

She got to work, mopping up the blood and disposing of the body. When she was done, she was the most bloody thing in the room. She picked up her sword just as the other demons arrived. She allowed them to take her back to the demon world. She asked about her family, but each of them just told her to wait and see. 

It was a long journey back to the demon world, and she regretted every second of it after she finally saw what she came back to.

Her whole family, gone. Dead. Murdered. 

Demons lied, she knew that. They were evil and cruel and liars and she didn’t know why she had trusted them to give her family back. 

She didn’t realize it, but although she had had some of her soul before, the last piece of it died at that moment. 

She was a demon too. She could be lethal just like them. 

She killed them all.