What if demon kings had a heart, somewhere deep within? What if they were obsessive, possessive, and yearnful? Once upon a time, there existed such an entity, and he was not one to share what he deemed his…
My name is Penelope, and upon my death, I awoke in the Underworld. I was processed as normal. Introduced to my new life. Told that I’d slowly forget my earthly memories… until I saw his painting. Kallúm, the demon king that we owe allegiance to.
His eyes followed me.
It was easy to ignore, assuming it was a facet of this world. Until I’m led to a deeply subterranean statue of him, where every newcomer makes an obligatory offering of fruit. His carved figure was surrounded by small, sweet, colorful signs of devotion–markings of every soul that had pledged allegiance before me, whether by reverence or by force. I placed mine at his feet, and his stone lids opened.
I can feel that he saw me.
Apparently, my soul has been here before, and he was hungry to catch me then. Now I’ve returned, except as far as I know, I’m just Penelope.
Come to me, tempest…