Devoid

it's raining demons

Meliodas looked back over the village, then beyond. Directly vertical to the hill they were standing on was another. Earlier, Fake-Gowther had read the minds of a few townspeople and found out that that hill had an underground secret hideaway. It was in that no-longer-secret hideaway that the traitors were suppose to meet on this very night. He grinned cruelly. They were about to get a very unwelcome guest.

Meliodas formed his darkwings. Dark violet feathers ruffled in the slight, ominous breeze that spelled bloodshed. He breathed a sigh of contentment. He loved the feeling of the wind on his wings. Galand used his own darkness to form bat-like darkwings, while Gowther simply used his to levitate. "Let's go," Meliodas intoned. They lifted off in a fury of dark feathers and killer intent.

It took them about three seconds to reach the other side of the village–Gowther's levitation wasn't as fast as their wings. They hovered over the site were the underground lair was. "Stay here. Wait for my signal. And obey," he growled, glaring at Galand. Galand gritted his metal teeth. "As you wish, Prince," he hissed. Meliodas chose not to respond to his disrespect. Instead, he activated his Ghostasu Form and became one with the shadows. It took him about a minute to find the traitors. It wasn't hard, considering they were screaming at each other.

"YOU IDIOT!" One male screamed. "HOW COULD YOU ALLOW HIM TO LIVE?! WHAT IF HE BROKE UNDER TORTURE?! YOU'VE RISKED EVERYTHING!" "Oh, shut up, Gethin," the other male snarled. "It couldn't be helped. The High Prince himself oversaw his torture. Then he killed him." "Th-th-the H-High Prince he-himself?!" Gethin squealed. Meliodas chuckled silently. It was amusing, seeing how panicked they were at the thought of him. But I'm already here, he thought, deceptively soft. And you're about to meet your worst nightmare. He turned his gaze towards the one named Gethin. Black hair, red-tinted eyes, and cowardly. Definitely Davorin's cousin. Davorin was the 7th Councilor and a gutless weakling. He only got his position because he was the only child of the last 7th Councilor. He was only a year into his job, and Meliodas knew he'd be gone before another year was up. The position would probably go to his uncle, who was most likely this traitor's father. Meliodas laughed again. An opportunity to piss off a Councilor before he even took office? Even more reason to have fun messing with them.

"Itzal!" Gethin hissed. "Why didn't you just have your person poison him? If the Prince tortured him, he definitely told him everything!" Meliodas's eyes narrowed. A person? A traitor, able to enter the Prison? Unbelievable. And Itzal. That had to be Abraxas's grandson. That poor, poor bastard. Meliodas had a grudge against his grandfather, and he had no qualms about taking it out on him. Itzal snorted. "Please. Do you know how hard it is to sneak into the Prison? Just being caught in there without permission is enough to get you killed. Having a weapon or poison will land you in the same situation as the inmates. And I'd rather avoid being imprisoned and tortured the rest of my life."

Meliodas grinned sadistically. I might let you die....after you're completely broken. Gethin shook his head. "So much for your influence." Hellfire burned in the other Demon's eyes. "Shut. The. Hell. Up. You coward." Gethin laughed mockingly. "At least I'm not an idiot." "You-!" Before Itzal could attack Gethin, there was a knock at the door. "Who is it?" Itzal demanded. "It's the guards from Cadiz." That's Abraxas's city, Meliodas thought, his eyes narrowing. Is Abraxas part of this? When he had first realized Itzal's relation to the Councilor, the thought had popped into his head that maybe he was a rebel himself. But he immediately threw the idea away. The Councilors were completely loyal to the King. But maybe, just maybe.....

"Good, come in," Itzal continued. The door opened and a dark-haired Demon walked through. Itzal rummaged through the bag next to his seat and withdrew a scroll. "Take this back with you to Cadiz. You know who it's for." The guard nodded and bowed. "Yes, Lord Itzal." He pocketed the scroll.