The fight went further than he'd planned. He'd under estimated the boy greatly. There was more wrath and fury and lust for blood than he'd seen in a mortal in many centuries. In fact, he came very close to succeeding. The vessel that housed him was dying fast. He could feel it. He poured a flood of his own energy into the vessel, and forced the tissues back into place. But the poison was there. It would continue to do its work. It wouldn't take long to use up his reserve of energy in keeping the body alive... which was, after all, exactly what he wanted.<br/><br/>The boy was stalking away, his back to the demon. He couldn't have that. Rising to his feet in a fluid, easy motion that belied his impending death, he charged at the boy. Reaching down, he wrenched a fragment of wood from his own body. The gaping wound that was left in his side was slow to close. He pulled a knife from the sheath at his belt and carefully pressed it into his own wound. When he pulled it out, he grunted in pain, nodding as he saw the blade was coated in the thick, dark, inhuman substance that was demon blood. He drove the blade into the boy's side, forcing it deep to deliver the blood that would fulfill his obligation.<br/><br/>His hands were beginning to shake, but he managed to seize the boy and throw him to the ground. Stalking closer, he lowered himself onto his heels, crouching over the boy's prone form. The human eyes of his vessel had gone cloudy, but he could see well enough.<br/><br/>"You will die soon, young mortal. I have fulfilled my orders. My master will call me to his side, but he will be too late. I've no desire to go to him. I choose instead to depart with you. You held yourself with honor befitting your station. She was wise to choose you. In delivering you, I will fulfill my orders..." the world around him went black for a minute. When his vision finally flickered, he found himself sprawled on the floor beside the dying slayer, trembling. The poison was quick. He rolled to his side and reached for the slayer's arm. Picking up the slayer's own knife, the unpoisoned one, he slashed a long red line in the slayers wrist, then duplicated the line on his own wrist. Clasping his hand over the slayer's arm, he pressed their wounds together, blending the blood that poured slowly from their wounds.<br/><br/>Shaking violently, he began speaking in a dark, evil tongue that would send fear into the heart of anyone capable of emotion. Weak as he was, dying on the floor, the Slayer might not even notice. The spell was difficult to cast at the best of times. It took everything he had. When at last he finished, demonic runes burned into existence around the Slayer's wrist and his own. Their hearts began beating together, weak as they were.<br/><br/>The dual pulse slowed drastically, all energy and will to live spent. When the beating stopped, they boy lay still. The human vessel's wounds returned all at once when the demon faded from the mortal plain, and the human's consciousness was restored. He screamed in mortal agony only once before the wounds took his life.<br/><br/>They knew only blackness for an undetermined span of time. When at last awareness returned to him, the demon had returned to his dwelling. The city of Dis was in chaos, as always. It was dark, and dangerous... corrupt and rank. It was home. He drew in a deep breath and smiled. Looking around, he found the slayer still unconscious, sprawled on the ground at his side. Rolling to his feet, he reveled in the feeling of being whole.<br/><br/>In his true form, he was tall and devastatingly handsome. He was dark, evil, and terrifying in his beauty. Crouching over the slayer, he tapped his cheek.<br/><br/>"Wake up, my young opponent. Wake and hear my words. You've a journey ahead of you, and little time for it. She is waiting, and will not last long."