Azazel had had his fair share of love and happiness, though it was ruthlessly stripped from his grasp. It had nearly broken him. But somehow, he managed to recover. Now, it was time to return things to the way they were always meant to be.
It was time for him to become the soulless demon he was created to be.
The door to his chambers creaked open and the moggly crawled inside, head bowed low in submission.
"Your Majesty," it rasped, "the witch has returned. And unfortunately, she is stronger now. I fear she may be able to help the prince… and ruin our plans."
It took Azazel a few seconds to respond. "I can feel her power. Yes, she has grown… stronger. More dangerous. We must move a step further. End this for it has gone on for far too long."
"Should I take care of it?" the moggly asked carefully.
"No." Azazel's voice was ice. "I will do it myself. I want to watch it all burn."
