Fault
A long time ago
A deal with the Devil is preferable to a pact with the demons.
Them
They turn towards you; face twisted in anger. There’s no real identifying features about their face, nor is it really even a face. Yet, the rage is omnipresent.
“You would save them?” they hiss, voice ethereal and directionless.
“I would ask that we follow our own laws,” you say, not yet willing to rise to their bait.
This is not the first time they’ve raised this topic. Every time something goes wrong, this is their first solution.
A mass extinction.
“You’re a naive idiot,” they say, turning to the other figure standing nearby. “Do you think the same?”
The second of us turns, their features just as indistinguishable.
“I believe you have already done the damage,” though their voice is much softer, their words ring like alarm bells.
“What have you done?” you ask, stepping towards your wayward sibling.
“Made a deal,” they laugh.
Light and pain flash around you. You hear the first of us scream with a deluded joy. The second’s scream is one of suffering. Yours is one of anger and fear.
For this is the beginning of the end.
“Your fault,” a voice hisses into the dark.
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”