Chapter 13: Finger Bones are So Crunchy/Finger Bones and Boredom/So Crunchy/How Long It Takes

With a horrible snap, he bit off the finger where it connected to his hand. Hiryu jolted horribly at the sound, then gasped as the demon reached into his own mouth and pulled out the severed finger, now mere chewed bone. Hiryu swallowed hard, grimacing, his fingers on his right hand curling defensively, although he’d felt no pain. ****WOULD THERE BE PAIN – NERVES? He watched in disgust and an odd fascination as Eigis stuck the larger end into his mouth and broke off a piece with another loud crunch, chewing happily. The sound was similar to a person chewing on ice chips.

Swallowing, the demon remarked, waving what was left of Hiryu’s third finger, “Finger bones are so wonderfully crunchy. But you see, how quick or how long something is devoured depends on the one doing the devouring. That would be me.” He gestured grandly to himself in a flurry on talons, before taking another bite of finger bone.

Hiryu’s face turned a sick pale color, tinged in green, his expression horrified. He swallowed, fighting not to throw up, and asked,

“Then you mean that, so long as I am able to – entertain you – you will keep me alive?”

About to pop the rest of the finger into his mouth, Eigis paused to rip off the nail, spitting it away in disgust. “Peh. I almost forgot how much I hate the taste of fingernails.”

Returning his attention to Hiryu, he answered, “Essentially yes. Of course it will reach a point where even my demon magic will no longer be able to keep you alive – at least a month. But it also depends on how interesting you remain.” With a smile that crinkled up his gold eyes, he tossed the rest of Hiryu’s finger into his mouth with a snap and chewed appreciatively.

“Then prepare to be bored to tears!” Hiryu exclaimed vehemently, jerking his head up aggressively.

The demon’s eyes opened wide and he swallowed in surprise, almost choking. Coughing to clear his throat, he demanded, “What’s this? I thought you wanted to live. Isn’t that what you’ve been fighting for this entire night?”

“Yes,” The young warrior answered; his voice ringing, fierce. “But now I’d rather die.”

Eigis couldn’t help it – he snickered, and finally burst out laughing.

Hiryu watched the demon shake with mirth, his resolve dissolving into confusion. What was so funny?

Eigis finally straightened, still highly amused. “This is why I like you, warrior,” he remarked. “You say the most amazing things and keep me guessing how you’re going to react next. Here you are, fighting to live the entire night, and the moment I grant you an extension on your life, you refuse. Please, explain.” He waved his talons.

Hiryu frowned, insulted that the demon considered him mere comedy, but replied seriously, “Living at the insistence of someone else is not really life at all. Caught, unable to escape, slowly eaten, death creeping nearer every second, every time I fail to make you laugh or surprise you – I would rather die, then be reduced to such a state.”

Eigis considered this.

“Yes, I suppose I do see your point. Still, you might change your tone. And it might not be so bad as you suppose.”

Hiryu snorted.

The demon ignored him. “In any case, while I said a month earlier, I doubt you’ll last that long. Most reach the breaking point after a few days, when they realize the extent I’ve eaten them, how little of their body remains intact, and they start screaming and don’t stop. Then I kill them.”

“How kind of you.” Hiryu answered sarcastically.

Eigis smiled and picked up the young warrior’s limp left hand, bringing it up to his mouth. “None of this changes the fact that I’m going to chew your left arm to the bone. And probably eat the bone as well. What I am saying is; I might keep you around for today, maybe tomorrow. If you still have the will to stay alive by then.”

The young warrior didn’t reply, wondering the same thing himself. The demon started chewing up his arm the same way someone might an ear of corn. It was just as messy. Hiryu closed his eyes tightly, trying not to listen to the sound of ripping and tearing, chewing and swallowing, or breathe in the rusty smell of his own blood, sliding down his arm.

The pain made it difficult to breathe, to think. The strain of his right arm, still dangling on its chain, was just as bad. Really, was it worth continuing to fight to live, when all that meant was just watching and feeling as he was slowly devoured, bite by bite? Wouldn’t it be better to just end it, while he still had arms and legs, hands and feet, ears and eyes? To just give in to the inevitable, the death waiting for him no matter what he did? It wasn’t really losing the fight, because he had already lost. He was just waiting for the end to come. Death. Sleep, rest, peace. No more pain. The end...