Demon who thinks it's so cute how you believe that trinket will protect you.
Barx'xuth stalked towards the quivering, terrified out of his mind priest, savouring the moment. Letting his horns grow taller. Fanning his flames to throw even more menacing shadows. Elongating his claws in anticipation.
The young priest, who'd expected... he didn't know what he'd expected when he'd been called in for an exorcism, but definitely not an actual demon, prayed like he'd never prayed before. Clutching his crucifix so tightly his knuckles were white, and a trail of blood slowly made its way down his wrist from where he'd nicked himself. Pissing his cassock as he felt the approaching hellfire bake his skin.
Barx'xuth laughed. A terrible sound, akin to a box of rocks falling down stairs. "You think that will protect you, priest?" he taunted him. "I met the Nazarene, little man, and your faith is like a match to his sun."
The priest blinked, terror forgotten for a brief instant. "Really?"
Barx'xuth nodded. "Oh yes. Must have been almost 2000 of your years ago. When me and the boys were joyriding." The demon sighed. Closed his eyes, thinking of the good old days. When things were a lot simpler. A lot more fun. Humanity had really made things difficult for demons since then. But no time for reminiscing now. He had a priest to eviscerate.
Opening his eyes, Barx'xuth noticed a change in the room.
There was a priest, right there, cowering in that corner... but he was gone now.
Brimstone and pitchforks.
Not again.
Scoring the walls with his claws, setting the scene, the demon started composing his report to his superiors in his head. "Oh yes, lord, this new generation of priests can wield their unwavering faith, turning it into a radiant shield. Couldn't get any closer. Tried my damnedest. Better luck next time, eh?"
