The walls trembled as a deep growl echoed in the night. Its sound traversed many dark rooms, with no light but the small violet flames of some candles.

Deep in the stony manor, through human built corridors, there was a dungeon, hidden past iron doors. And past those, was the darkest chamber.

A long black tail whipped again, slamming itself against the steps on the ground. Only that movement revealed his presence in the dark. It all made his next growl ghostly, full of anger.

He waited. How he had waited. With that awful notion, his eyes opened. Their faint light revealed his figure slightly, crouched on the steps. His claws were gripping them, and almost broke their stone when he pressured with his nails.

Another day he had waited. And yet, there was no trace of his hunter. For it, he stood slowly and took a deep breath, which made him seem taller. Something he did not need, not when his figure was already two meters tall. His sharp horns peeked from behind his ears, rising backwards, to loom with his shadow. His presence could be described as what a human would imagine when naming a demon.

He was a devil. A fang peeked from his lips, and some flames puffed around him from time to time, to fade and die after. His hands ended in sharp claws, like his feet; they could seem human if covered with gloves or the black boots he wore.

He really could seem human if he didn’t have his claws, tail, horns and bright eyes. All those features were intensified by his height. Even with them and his strong appearance, he did not look like a monster. He was attractive; his skin was tanned, and his expression could be gentle. His elegant clothes did not match his feral features, perhaps fit for a noble, tinted in a very dark cobalt.

The word beast was not appropriate. Uriel was a high demon, after all. Powerful, yet untainted by the magic he was capable of wielding.

He took a deep breath and controlled his anger. He raised his claws over his chest, to then lower them slowly, letting out a sigh. That exhale was full of resignation. His long pointy tail was moving behind him as well, nervously.

“He is not coming.”

Have I worried in vain?

He got down the steps slowly, glaring ahead in anger. He walked through pitch-black corridors and halls, letting all the candles die out as he passed by.

The manor was fortified, for he had prepared for his arrival.  He stepped carefully through a familiar hallway, evading setting foot on one tile. One of his many traps, a trapdoor, with sharp razors in the bottom. He got into the main areas of his home, with many empty rooms and halls, all guarded by tall black armors. Their helmets were lit by faint violet lights, which died when he gave them a single glare. They lost their glow when his eyes shined. As he let his will fade, so did their strength, letting go from the handle of their spears.

His violet eyes sharpened even more, because he was tired, emotionally. He had waited for far too long. He did not know how much time already, but it was enough. The notion of his situation had him sick; he had thought his angel would try to find him, and slay him.

He could feel he was somewhere, out there. Alive. His heart was pulsing, begging him to confront him, find him and prove he was the one to survive. But… his enemy did not seem to want to appear before him.

All the traps he had prepared would be pointless if no one ventured near them. He had been sure that waiting was the wisest thing to do, in order to have the upper claw, know the battleground where to fight for his life.

Uriel halted in front of a big glassy window. His figure was shadowed in the middle of the beautiful old hall. With no light in his den, it was the moon what shined light over his gaze. His eyes soon narrowed, with resentment and doubt.

Maybe the angel was waiting as well. Perhaps he had the same strategy. Only god knew what that fiend might plan, what tricks lurked in that scheming mind.

He had to know well what he was doing. Few angels displayed this patience. Most wouldn’t waste time; all wanted to destroy them as soon as possible.

The young demon fumbled nervously with his claws, closing his gleaming violet eyes again. He questioned himself, time and time again.

Should I make the first move?

He pondered for another long while. He let the moon hide between the dark forests surrounding his home. Time flew by.

Uriel raised his gaze at last, much more determined. A choice was made; he had waited enough. Delaying their clash any longer would only tear his mind apart. He had to stop wondering why the angel waited and act instead. He was not scared of his enemy.

The air seemed to run cold when the doors of the manor were slammed open. It was an icy rush, even if flames burst for a second. The demon bolted towards the woods, fast. He only had one thought: hunt the hunter. Find his angel. Kill.