Work Text:
What horrifies Streibough the most is how Odio kills the children.
It is not like how he kills the guards. Those, he hunts down with sadistic glee, deliberately injuring but not killing. Those, he takes his time with, giving them false hope, letting them crawl away and die from their own injuries. He laughs until tears fall down his face, and still he does not stop until he is close to breathless.
It is not like how he kills the advisors. Those, he walks to with a sharp grin, almost strutting up to them. Those, he pins down under his claws and offers them survival if they sell out their peers and allies. Once they do, he has them kill their once allies before he strings them up. Those that do not are usually suffocate in Odio’s grip.
It is not like how he kills the nobles. Those, he does not give any hints that he is close, until his blade is at their throats. Those, he speaks casually to, asking them about their brothers and sisters and husbands and wives. Those, he lets the terror consume before he plunges his blade and claws into. Some offer their loved ones for life. They die slowly.
It is not like how he kills the villages or peasants. Those, he kills with a mass of claws and screams. Not from his own hands, but from one of his many demons as he watches from afar, ignoring their pleas for help, mercy, or for him to spare their loved ones. He turns his back and ignores them, shutting them in their own homes.
Odio doesn’t kill the children like any of those.
When Odio kills the children, he does so with a soft smile on his face. He does so with a look in his eyes that could almost be called gentle. He holds them close, with his hands stained from their parents’ blood. He holds them as they struggle and cry and scream and sob. He holds them and tells them that he is giving them mercy. That everything will be better now. That this is kindness.
Then he snaps their necks.
Somehow, that terrifies Streibough the most.