The Exit
They say a liar's heartbeat changes. Psychologically, too—odd behaviors emerge. They can't meet your eyes, or they force it. Once they start overthinking natural actions, everything turns unnatural, a fatal flaw that the perceptive spot instantly.
Even liars falter like that. What about someone plotting murder? Wouldn't every flinch and pounding heart give them away? Pretending normalcy with a poker face while scheming a kill? Impossible for me.
To kill the hero, I left the bag of potatoes and fork in the corner, curled up, and pretended to sleep. Better to sleep till night—no need for talk, no suspicion if we skip conversation. Solid plan. Eyes closed.
But what if he notices the fork while I'm asleep? Unlikely, but "unlikely" kills. Eyes snapped open. I pulled the fork from the bag, scanned for a hiding spot. None. Frowned, about to stuff it back—then my chest caught my eye.
That massive chest. I'd cursed its inefficiency plenty, but now? A godsend. Glanced at the fork, slid it under my underboob. Found an angle safe from stabbing. The cold metal made me stifle a yelp as I secured it.
Now, he'd have to lift my cloak to find it—and waking me first. Smart. Slept soundly.
I woke to pitch-black night outside. Shaking off daze, I sat up. In the dim room, the hero prepped for bed. My rustling drew an incredulous grunt.
"...What? Finally up? How long do you sleep? Gonna crash again?"
I listened, then replied.
"Sorry. Body's weak."
"...Sigh. Fine. We're leaving tomorrow—sleep fast."
Leaving? Where to, suddenly?
"Where?"
"Think chasing the Demon King is just lounging in the palace, hounding you? Gotta hunt big magic beasts."
Ah... I'd figured his palace prowls were his "search." Wrong. Relief washed over me; I rubbed my chest.
Mulling it, I furrowed my brow and asked what nagged me. He might know more about me than I did.
"What's the gain from big magic beasts?"
He shifted, propped up, sat on the bed. Eyed me suspiciously.
"...You really the Demon King's closest aide?"
Silence. He muttered, 'Knows nothing, huh?' Pulled up the blanket, flopped down. Answered anyway.
"Giant magic beasts hold Demon King fragments. That could be a clue."
"You've caught some."
"Once—watched one caught... Hey, aren't you a slave? Why the casual talk?"
I'd been casual forever; polite outside was just playing nice. Now he acts like he expects formality? Laughable. Scoffed, leaned against the wall, tone flat.
"Doesn't matter."
"Keep it up, you'll starve days again."
"..."
Demon bastard. Nails were longer by then, but scratching by? Brutal. Silence.
Groaned in defeat. He smirked pityingly, waved dismissively.
"Packed already. Just get dragged along."
Glanced around: huge backpack. Clothes, money, spare daggers. Half-filled with food. Stared blankly. Packed while I slept? Busy bee.
After killing him, snag some dried rations for the trek to Demon King's Castle. Nodded, waited for sleep.
Time crawled. Eternal. But insomniacs take 30 minutes to two hours—gritted teeth, endure. Better boredom than eternal slavery.
Sleep. Hurry.
Waited for steady, rhythmic, soft breaths. Snores, grinding teeth, sleep-talk—bonus. Yeah, sleep.
How long? Squatting, staring—time blurred. No clock anyway. Just my fatigue.
Breaths evened. No quirks, but the faint rhythm told me: He's asleep.
Fumbled under cloak, eased out the warmed fork. Gripped fork-style for eating, shifted to killing grip.
Excitement surged. Heart raced. Freedom so close. Swallowed, drew it out.
Post-kill? Flee. How? Walk? Frail body far? But outskirts—city escape quick. Clothes: fold his layers. Food: backpack. Magic? Summon beast, ride like Kudbeka. Shook head—plan after success. Bit lip.
Swallowed, stood. Bad deed, murder—rustle like construction roar. Tension gripped.
So? Whining changes nothing. Lifetime as subhuman cattle? No. Heart in throat fearing his death anytime? No.
Muffled exhale, crept to bed. Chain clinked softly—careful steps kept it quiet. Hero slept on.
Chain taut. Beside him. Steel yourself. Fail, humans kill you someday. They hate demons—gouge eyes, skin alive, laugh, wear as trophies.
Human hatred simmered. Fueled resolve. Recalled his abuses: rape, beatings, starvation, public humiliation. Worst human. Others might worse, but he did this.
Revulsed memories steeled me. Thanks—your trash self let me commit.
Arm extended. Aimed throat, raised slow. One stab kill? No—fork holes tiny; multiple needed. Ignore piercing disgust.
"Hng...!"
Struck. No flesh rip, no blood spray.
Claaang!
Vibration shook my hand like metal plate. Ears pierced by clang—I recoiled, panicked.
His body: magic circle blazed. Navy blue, dark black unfurled ominously, faded as attack ceased.
What? Heroes auto-defend asleep too?
Done. Noise, impact—he'd wake. Bet it's one-use alert. Prayed fading meant gone—swung.
Whoosh! Arm halted. Not circle—his hand gripped mine.
Damn. Eyes cracked open.
"What're you doing."
Irked from rude wake, he frowned at the sharp fork. Grip crushed like vise.
"Guh..."
Unhealed bruise throbbed. Swallowed groan; he wrenched power out.
"Aaaagh!"
Pain. Why so weak? Slight squeeze, grip fails, drops weapon. Hated this body. Fuck, fuck.
Clink. He rose, shoved me, snatched fork.
"Where'd this—... Ah."
Traced origin, narrowed eyes. Night-framed, savage glare. Why magic asleep? First circle sight—thrilling? No, just bullshit. Magic's such bullshit. Modern world, he'd be dead. Ground teeth.
He tossed fork out of chain reach, grabbed table key. Dangled my chain key, swung it.
"This what you want?"
"..."
No bold retort. Murder attempt failed—crime clear.
Should've succeeded. Rash? Even not, unknown circle—same. Thoughts swirled. Bit lip.
Sighed heavily, unlocked wall lock. Chain loosened, clattered limp.
Stared blankly.
He stared back. Night-hair tousled, spoke.
"Hated it that much? Treated slave well."
"...No way I'd like it."
Low reply. Criminal now—he torches village for pyre, I'd take it. Theft: humans jail month; demons? Hand chopped. Braced for failure's price, eyes shut. Kill, spare, roast, boil—whatever.
Resigned, head bowed. He sighed.
Doorward, creaked open.
"Slave life's hell? Go. I'll allow."
Unexpected. Eyes wide, stared. Dark living room beyond.
What I craved. Seized.
Heart pounded. Freedom.
I stepped forward.