The human race, the self entitled 'superior' animal on this ball of rock, how truly pathetic they were in the eyes of one so old. Humans were to most demons nothing more than a plague, a virus that would hopefully run its course and give way to something new, something better. They were little more than an irritant that, at times, could provide some relief from the crushing boredom that came with a long life spent in the burning horrors of the under plains. It had been a while since someone had called for them though and many had theorized that the silly little humans had come to their end, met with both a sense of joy and despair. Humans were greedy and once upon a time they were summoned for every little nuisance that popped into a humans life. They wanted that girl to like them, that man had more money than them, if only they were prettier, the requests had come in like a stream of self-hate and loathing ridden by ignorance and arrogance. Demons had made more a mark on their filthy napkin of history than any human ever had but such didn't' reflect in any history book but the one kept in the bowels of the earth in the forbidden library which held every book written and thought of, every life story of every human that had ever lived and the things that came before. 

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The candles in the dank little room flickered and all blew out with a chilling wind that sounded like the souls of a thousand tortured men, the floor cracked down the center, spilling the piles of animal bones and breaking the markings, like lightening the crack spread reaching up to the stone altar and breaking it in two, though while one end sagged half an inch it barely moved. In a rush of air a river of fire ran across the ceiling in waves before coalescing into a ball at the far end of the room, which stretched and began to form an archway. The man at the front with the blade dropped it and clutched at his throat, scrambling away from the alter like a rat scurried away from the right before dropping to his knees and coughing a torrent of blood. As the first panicked screams entered the room the resounding sound of the doors banging shut and a heavy sounding lock rang out. The silly insects attempted to open the door but found it was indeed locked and refused to shift. As some cowered and wept others began looking for ways to escape their little trap and one stepped passed the ritual master who still choked and coughed on a mixture of blood and vomit, and grabbed the blade from the boys chest, making to plunge it into his heart. However an inch above the boys prone flesh the blade seemed to snag and refuse to move, even as the person gripped it with both hands and put his full weight onto the blade it refused to budge. The ghostly wind howled louder and caused those already weeping to go into hysterics while the person with the blade tried harder to force it into the boys chest. It still didn't move. With a gust of air the would be killer was swept off his feet and thrown clear across the room to become impaled upon the antlers of a deer that had been hung there. 

Finally the form began to come, a face not befitting that of humans, a face they did not deserve to see and so among the torrent of hell fire it changed. For those capable of observing they saw a camel the hue of gold and silver licked with ruby incandescence and finely bedecked in jewels and fine rugs but it was the creature beside it that would command attention. Eyes of a burning blue that only seemed to intensify rather than cool the flames, a head of jet black hair fell about his form lifted by the air currents created by the fire. Two fine ebony horns rose up and behind like those of a mountain dweller while a further set curved in towards the face like the legs of some great scorpion. His skin was the hue of caramel, a delicious but delicate bronze that gave a hint of ethnicity to the strong features of his face. As he pulled himself from the generated rift one could see his body was devoid of any unnecessary hair and that he was completely unclothed. Standing at six foot and four inches he cut an imposing figure, a strong looking body that narrowed in a slight V from shoulders to waist giving him a desirable aspect. The muscles in his arms were defined but he did not seem to bode impassable strength, one hand held long pianist fingers while the other was more bird like, with four long digits that hooked into claws at their tips. His stomach was flat, a defined but not overly accentuated six pack to flash off his 'good health' while his legs were likewise defined and toned. 

Impassive blue eyes scanned the room as the opening behind him rushed shut like water rushing down a hole, the screaming sound of the wind intensifying to near earsplitting levels until it and the portal disappeared leaving only the silent sobbing and the darkness. Glancing to the 'offering' he plucked the dagger from the air where it had been hanging since the unfortunate soul who'd tried to use it had been flung across the room and impaled. Glancing at the blade he cast it effortlessly aside and returned his gaze to the room, everyone here reeked of desire and greed, of deep wanting for the most mundane things, the kind of things a demon grew bored of granting. There was only one desire here that interested him, one that held potential for a meal of fine delicacy instead of the fast food the others threatened to offer. Glancing to the quivering prone wreck upon the stone altar his deep voice seemed to fill and echo every inch of space in the room. "Your wish is granted." His tone sounded like the crackling of an eternal fire, like the night, like a thousands serpents battling a thousand lions and even that didn't seem to begin to describe this deep and ancient voice. 

Screams then filled the room, crying, scrabbling and yet the demon rose only clawed hand and watched as the madness began to destroy the remaining people, the original ritual master had collapsed now, dead or unconscious the demon cared not. The impaled one was very much dead, his blood and saliva dripping to the floor which now one of the humans danced under while clawing at her own face, removing strips of flesh with ease. Another had devolved to rubbing its own feces on itself while others were going at it tooth and claw, literally ripping chunks out of one another. With them suitably seen too the demon turned his gaze back to his prize, the scaled talons dropped to where the wounds ran red with blood, they felt smooth like snake's skin and devoid of any of the stereotypical slime associated with such creatures. They were warm too, not hot but that comforting warmth and as the talons rose passed the wound it was sealed, not healed but sealed for the time being. Each wound received a similar touch until the claw was lifted and resumed a similar guise to the one on the other side. With a click of his fingers the chains restraining the boy burst open, releasing him of the binds, the demon scooped up his charge, holding him in a 'bridal' carry position, his body was as warm as his hand had been, his skin smooth and soft to the touch. Hanging around him was the faint smell of a bonfire mixed with exotic spices and perfumes, it was not an aggressive smell but subtle and hard to catch a second time on purpose. "What will you have me do to them?" His voice now softer, more human, still powerful and old but restrained to the form he had taken, he knew full well the hood was still on and for the moment he wanted to keep it that way, humans often were more creative when there was a filter between them and their actions.