When the boy-monster walked into the room Light was already up and angry. She was holding a chair leg in her left hand and in the other was a lava lamp.
Light stated in a growling voice, “You. You brought me here.”
He surveyed the room Light had trashed with his black eyes and frowned. “And you shredded the curtains with… your nails? How lurid. Do you have titillomania?”
Light let out a snarl that would’ve done Nixa proud.
“How about you calm down before you hurt yourself. See, we can pretend that I wasn’t the one that killed your family, it wasn’t even my idea-” He was cut short by Light clubbing him -or at least trying to- with the lamp.
The boy grabbed Light’s wrist an inch away from his head and wrenched the lamp away from her grasp.
He tucked a strand of black hair behind his ear and said in a irritated tone, “Okay, you-”
Light swung the chair leg at him, but it too was taken away from her with ease.
“Why don’t you just go back to the slime hole you crawled out of and die there?” Light screamed in frustration. “You monster!”
Tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t care. It was this demon that had killed her family and Nixa, he killed her uncles, aunts, gram, and all her neighbors. It was his fault her life was a mess, and she wanted him to pay for it in blood.
Light fell to her knees and cried until all her tears had dried and she was left only with cold rage. When she was finished the boy was still standing with his arms crossed at the doorway, looking down at her with what seemed to be amusement. She glared at him.
The boy sighed and crouched down until he could look into her eyes. He put his hands together as if he was praying, “If I told you that I am sorry for killing your family and the rest would you stop screaming?”
“Don’t you mock me, demon.” Light said in the harshest tone she would manage. The boy flinched. “The croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.”
“Hamlet. Act three, scene two.” He said in awe. “I didn’t know that this realm had children that could actually use their heads.”
“That’s probably because you killed all of them. After all, that’s all you knows how to do, isn’t it Mr. Demon.”
He narrowed his eyes, “My name isn’t demon.”
“Oh, what is it then? The Mr. Big-and-scary boogie man?”
“No-”
“Then, how about Mr. Child-killer? Oh, I know, how about Fang? I’m sure your little friend would find it a cute name, too bad he’s dead.”
The boy stared into her eyes with no trace of emotion on his face. He then got up and turned to leave.
As he stepped out he turned back to her and murmured, “I call myself Eran. You can call me whatever you like, little bride-to-be.”
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