It was raining.
Scratch that, it was pouring. The streets were already cleared, save for a few sorry sods who were running late, or the occasional stray animal.
One such stray, a lone girl, watched the downpour from underneath her messy bangs, trying to make out anything beyond blurred shapes and silhouettes. It had started as a light drizzle, something completely harmless, but one that changed with a crack of lightning, turning into a full blown rainstorm. She had been forced to postpone her search for food and seek shelter immediately, which certainly did not make her a happy camper.
The small body she was carrying in her arms shifted, like It was mirroring her own feelings of unease. With a tightening of her grip It stopped, going limp like a doll with its strings cut. But she wasn't satisfied by Its docile behavior, and the weather only served to worsen her mood. She had taken refuge in a dirty alley, which was hardly refuge at all. The only provided shelter were the rather short window ledges above her, forcing her to press her body against the rough wall as much as she could, just to get at least halfway underneath them. It was safe to say that it didn't help at all, and she was already getting an uncomfortable itch on her back. She would have complained, if she wasn't soaked to the bone, and numb from the cold already.
As It started squirming again, she held onto the body tightly, the misshapen monster in her arms that was her one and only companion. Was it a child? Or was it a demon? It was her own creation, a spawn of the madness that had once been wrapped around her heart and mind. Therefore, It was her demonic child. That madness was now transferred to this child, at the mere price of her life.
Its body was wrapped up in a thin cloth, ripped and tattered from use. Over Its head was a paper bag, and around Its neck hung a thin rope. Oh, how she, at certain times, wanted to pull at that rope, to watch as the little beast writhed and squealed in that high pitched voice, until It fell silent, leaving her in peace. But how could she? How could she kill what her life revolved around? The mark that she had stamped on her left eye, although blotched and nearly unrecognizable, was the mark of the thing that she almost unwillingly held in her arms. It held on to her shirt as if it were its lifeline, and It slowly corroded her soul once again.
She sighed, a long, suffering sigh, as she watched the people run by, or rather, their blurred shapes, none of them sparing her a glance. And why would they, she mused. She was but a soaked street rat, her dirty hand-me-down clothes weighing her down, and threatening to slip off of her thin frame. You didn't get size measurements for clothes, not when you were desperate.
Motherrrr.. a voice echoed in her head, and she bared her teeth at the wall across from her, all the while mournfully regretting her choice in teaching the creature some of her language. "Shut up,“ she said, irritation and fear fighting for dominance in her heart. That voice never failed to startle her, or get her blood boiling in anger. "Get out of my head!“
But you know I can't do that... the voice replied, sounding much more intelligent than Its first garbled call. It had Its own bouts of intelligence sometimes, she could admit, despite Its poor upbringing. She snorted at the thought, perhaps in amusement. As if the little spawn deserved anything better than what she was giving It. It was already feeding off of her soul, still tied to her, as It had explained in its own chopped sentences.
That didn't stop her from making a contract with another demon, It had assured her hastily, as if the mere thought of not signing a contract with one of the beasts would break her fragile heart. After all, their contract had been unsuccessful, due to ignorance on the demon's part. And she had gotten the shorter end of the stick, it seemed. The only thing their messed up pact did was blind her in one eye, and allow the little demon to eat her knowledge. The latter was a common thing that demons did with their young until they reached a certain age, those rare few times that a demon was born because two of the beasts decided to settle their differences long enough to produce another disgusting offspring.
She had thought that she could appreciate that, though. The giving her knowledge away part. After all, if the only thing that the demon required was her limited knowledge, she would gladly give it, if it meant that she wouldn't be tied down by It. Like... Like the key bearers were. She had heard that name a few times, passed around from one person to another, in whispers not nearly as hushed as they had thought. Sometimes, the most unlikely people would talk about these traitors, the ones that had abandoned their own kind to sign with the enemy. The mere thought of being like them made her shudder.
But are you not worse? the raspy voice reminded her. She grimaced at the coppery taste of blood as she bit too hard on her lower lip, which she had been worrying while thinking. It was a bad habit she had developed over the years, but all nervous people had their ticks and habits.
Was she just as bad? She had, after all, created a demon scum. Did that make her as worse as the key bearers, or was her reluctance to take care of her demon separating her from them? She wouldn't know what those people thought of their own demons, of course, so she couldn't be sure. It was still worrisome.
Hungry... the voice muttered, interrupting her thoughts once again. Ah, so it seemed that It was back to Its normal levels of intelligence. What a pleasant thought. "You won't be getting any, you worthless thing!“ she snapped out loud, looking by all accounts like she had lost her marbles. But she reluctantly found herself agreeing with It, because she was hungry as well. She could already feel hunger gnawing at her insides, making her stomach ache. When was the last time that she had eaten? She remembered the nice people that gave her the clothes she wore, and some bread and soup. They did that for quite a few of the outcasts hanging around the area, most of them homeless children, not unlike herself. But running through the rain just to get to the building on the other side of town didn't seem so appealing.
The long nails digging into her skin, and successfully drawing blood certainly changed her mind fast enough, though.
With another sigh, although possibly heavier than the first one, she took off at a fast pace out of the alley, and proceeded to sprint down hill. Sometimes, she wondered what made them, whoever they were, decide to build a city on such a terrain. It was all ups and downs. But that thought was promptly replaced by a new one, or rather, a scream and a curse as she slipped on the muddy ground, and unceremoniously fell flat on her face. She heard a loud wail from the creature in her arms, which was pinned down by her weight, and allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction despite her aching limbs.
At least she wasn't alone in her suffering.