Chapter Text
“Hurts...I-It hurts…..”
The little demon boy whimpered, clutching his stomach as he hid in a small hastily dug cave. The best he could do on such short notice just before the sunrise.
His back pressed upon the damp walls of his cave, as slivers of sunlight slipped through the cracks of the makeshift door. Made of hastily tied branches and his haori. Maybe in the past, he would have been glad to see the sunlight, relieved even, but now all he feels in his heart is fear. Almost like an animal’s instinct telling him to run. To hide away from its burning rays.
Taking in another shaky breath he anxiously wrings his hands. Careful not to cut himself on his claws.
‘Only a few more hours until nightfall’
he just has to stick it out until he can hunt for food to try and ease his aching gut.
He thinks to himself, as just the mere thought of food causing his mouth to salivate profusely.
Doubling over he grips his stomach as a wave of hunger crashes over him, pounding. Relentless. Panting, with eyes shut tight his hand blindly feels around, looking for the only thing that has brought him comfort during these hungry days. Eventually, his fingertips come in contact with the lovingly hand-stitched spine of a journal.
His journal
Scrambling to pick it up he presses it against his dirt-covered clothes. Flipping it open he stares down at the name written on the upper left corner.
“Senjuro” the boy says out loud to no one but himself
“My name is Senjuro” his voice just barely above a whisper
“I-I'm Senjuro” he says a bit louder
“I am a monster person”
“I won't hurt humans”
“Not ever”
Taking in a shaky breath he slows down his breathing, managing to stave off hunger for now.
It's familiar, the way he uses his breathing to calm his nerves. As if it's been drilled into his very being. But those memories have been lost to him as well. Along with so much more.
Carefully he traces a clawed finger over where his family’s name would have been written, now splattered with dried blood, most likely his own making it impossible to read. When he had first awoken as a demon many, many months ago. In a puddle of his blood. This journal had been one of the only things he had on his person at the time. Taking out a stubby and very worn pencil he flips open to where he had last left off and begins to write. As the sound of a pencil scratching upon paper fills up the tiny space, helping his mind forget the instant ticket to the underworld right outside.
October
I think? The air has been getting colder as of late. But I'm not so sure what the date is. It's been a while since I've been able to sit down and write so, unfortunately, I've lost track of the days. Right now I'm writing in another makeshift cave. Well, it's more of a hole but so far it's doing a good job hiding me from the sun so it doesn't matter. I won't lie. It's been getting harder as of late, no matter how many deer or boars I eat. I'm always hungry the next day. And whenever I try to trim away my claws they grow back just as quickly and sharper than before. I want to find my family, I hope they're alive and well. Even if they don't want me around anymore that's fine too. Who would want a demon as their child anyway? Even though I hardly remember their faces, I don't want to sleep in dirty holes in the ground anymore. I don't want to keep running. I don't want to be alone…
Lifting the nubby pencil from the paper he stares down at the page, gently closing his journal he presses it closer to his chest as tears flow past his cheeks. Still round from his youth. Quickly wiping them away with a dirty sleeve he curls up against the cold earthen wall. His back facing the sunlight as he awaits nightfall. Quiet hiccups shaking his small frame.
‘No use in crying Senjuro, you'll just make yourself miserable in the end.'
He curls into himself tight, claws still clutching onto the journal like a lifeline, his worn and dirty sandals strewn to the side.
As he drifts off towards a dreamless sleep
When he awakes a few hours later, the singing of cricket songs greets his ears. Beckoning the end of daylight and the beginning of a very long night. Gently placing the journal to the side he crawls towards the exit. Pushing away the door, he crawls out of the little hole and stands. The large trees blocking him from getting a proper view of the night sky.
Time to hunt
At just the mere thought of being able to eat his stomach lets out another inhumanly loud growl.
Senjuro grunts as he doubles over. If the sun didn’t kill him in the end it would most definitely be his stomach. Of course, he knew that demons ate humans to satisfy their monstrous hunger but just the mere thought of harming a human… It made him sick.
He didn’t know how he’s made it so far only consuming the flesh and blood of animals
But he’s determined to make it stay that way.
Eating animals was much better by comparison, but the first time he ate and killed one while it was still warm and alive, it scared him.
The way he had chased it down was inhuman. As he only thought of how warm its blood would feel on his tongue. How satisfying it would be to feel the blood seep between his teeth. And when he finally caught up with the animal he couldn’t help but enjoy the way the skin easily broke under his fangs. And how the flesh cut so easily. And just how good it tasted, Senjuro was pretty sure that when he was still human no meal he had ever eaten could ever compare to the raw flesh he had consumed that night.
Trudging through the forest he quietly examines the underbrush for any signs of wildlife. Brushing away some fallen leaves to the side he finds some freshly made tracks. Deer most likely, carefully following along the tracks he eventually spots a small herd of the animal up ahead.
Crouching down to the forest floor he observes the herd. At least seven of them in total, with one of them lagging behind the group with a visible limp.
Saliva pools in his mouth, the temporary relief to his ravenous hunger limping right in front of him. And with a sudden burst of energy, he lunges forwards. The herd immediately scatters the second Senjuro leaps out from the underbrush. With an animalistic snarl, he slashes his claws into the neck of the animal too hungry to care about his clothes becoming stained. Before placing both of his hands over its throat to snap it in one clean motion.
The once struggling animal now falls to the floor limp in his arms, the sign of its struggle evident in the indents and blood splattered on the grass below them. Taking a moment to come down from the adrenaline rush Senjuro stares down at the still-warm corpse of the deer. His hands sticky from the metallic blood
And like a starving beast he eats, tearing away limbs and shoving as much of the meat into his maw as his body would let him, blood spurting out from the fresh kill. The sound of snapping bones and muscle being pulled apart echoing through the forest like a sick melody. The gnawing hunger in his gut fading with every passing bite. As the poor boy tries his best to ignore the fact that he's confirmed his very own fears. Something that he was denying from the very start.
He was a monster