She sat beside the campfire, occasionally looked up to the stone statue in front of her.

The statue was similar to an ornamental decoration sitting next to the stairs that granted entrance to a castle of some eccentric noble. The only difference was the dirtied, white-turned-brown cloak around it and the metal tank on its back.

However, Olivia knew the static, dead-looking rock with flickering fire shining upon its horns and frightening face was a living creature. If one makes the mistake of waking it, a pair of red eyes would appear at once and carve fear deep into one's subconsciousness.

If Olivia stood up and walked away now, the creature would sit here and watch her disappearing figure. It would be aware, but it would not move an inch. She knew, because she had done so many times before.

Olivia had abandoned her humanity. She had become a witch, a vessel of the devil.

Her family shunned her. They hurled curses and rocks at her. She didn't know which one hurt more.

The church captured her. She was locked in a pitch-black cell that barely fitted one person, with a big metal collar on her neck.

The soldiers and the priests in white attires tortured her days and nights. They hit her, then they hit her again because her blood got on their pristine clothes. Between all the abusing, raping and torturing, Olivia had lost sense of time. There was no need to count if she only wanted her time to stop.

She wondered why they wouldn't burn her on the stake like they did with the others. Was it because of the devil's power resided within her that let people go through walls? If she did enough work for them, would they cleanse her of filth and let her die?

But soon, she stopped wondering. Her eyes became livid. She had forgotten about the life before. Death was constantly on her mind.

One day, light poured in, the door to her cell opened. She was being taken by some people, somewhere. She was told to do something.

The next thing she knew, a body crashed into her. Her eyes came into focus once in a long time to witness an utterly terrifying figure jumped toward her. The person next to her was decapitated.

She lied still, her eyes closed tightly, the sound of drum in her chest resonated with the cries of death around her. Why was she afraid? Wasn't it the moment she had been waiting for?

Everything happened quickly. Silence dawned. Footsteps approached her. This was it. Something tugged at her neck and a loud crack boomed next to her ears. Instinct overcame her desire. Panic drove her body to move away.

It wasn't her neck that broke. She turned her head up to look at the two halves of a collar on the ground, the headless corpse, and the next thing she saw made her eyes wide.

Her memory skipped, then came the feeling of stones poking painfully into her bare foot. She was running away. Without a collar on her neck or a cell door in her face, nor were her legs or hands constrained. Where was she escaping to?

Humanity had forsaken her. Why was she struggling?

The demon's eyes opened. Olivia stopped the line of thoughts that had been haunting her the past month. She looked toward the civilization, where she had travelled to frequently in the forgotten past. It had become strange. The buildings and the faces of people did not feel real to her.

They were now on the outskirt of the City of Brighton, hiding in the forest. They had been camping out here for a week, and Olivia had a clear idea what the demon wanted to do.

For the past seven days, when the sun came down, the demon would wake up, strap on a new tank that it took from the elite church soldiers, and sneak into the city.

The demon breathed mana gas.

The West Church was a colossal building that towered over the city. She could see it from where they were sitting, the ominous bell tower that signalled either time, or the burning of the defiled. Sometimes both. The demon was about to massacre its way in there and take what it needed to survive.

But the demon did not sneak into the city today. After a minute of silence, it waved its hand with sharp claws in her direction.

"Tomorrow."

"Emily."

"Go."

"Church."

The broken sentence in a hoarse voice sounded like agonizing souls from the abyss calling out at the livings to join them. If anyone but Olivia had heard it in the moonless night amid the eerie forest, perhaps their heart would cease to beat from sheer fright.

"Please help."

Olivia showed surprise on her face. [The demon is asking me for help? To kill people?]

"Help? Kill?" She asked back.

Its head shook. "Help." "Take." It poked a claw at the tank on its back, making a 'koong' sound. "No kill."

"If Emily can." Its fearsome red eyes turned gloomy as it said.

"Oh." She made a sound. Her eyes glued to the burning woods.

The demon was so… humane. It wasn't the indiscriminate slaughterer in the bedtime stories she was told as a child. She had fully understood that the demon didn't find joy in the suffering of people.

It was ironic that a terror-striking creature treated her better than the ones of her own kind.

On the first day of their fateful meeting, she did not dare to approach the demon. She stayed twenty steps from the last metal tank that was being dragged on the ground. The demon took a few glances at her, then continued its way through the sea of trees.

They arrived at a river before sunset. The demon jumped in the water and caught a bunch of fish. It made a campfire and soon, the alluring smell of grilled fish tempted her.

She ate the fish in a hurry, her eyes constantly trained on the demon that had become a stone statue. As she had finished the last one, the demon moved it claws slowly, its eyes still closed. Olivia retreated warily.

"Emily." The demon spoke, with a claw pointing at itself. Its speech was so frightening that Olivia fell flat on her butt.

The demon repeated its action. "Emily. Emily Spike."

[Emily Spike? Its name? It has a name?] She thought.

"O-Olivia." She stammered. She was talking to a demon! Had the world become crazy? Had she become crazy?

"O-olivia?" The demon tilted its head. Its expression seemed strangely human.

She shook her head. [Does the demon understand what shaking head means?] A thought fleeted. She named herself once more. "Olivia."

"Olivia." That horrible voice again, saying her name. But she did not feel so afraid anymore. The demon used its claw to draw something on the ground as it spoke.

It drew a human smiling face.

Olivia smiled. "Emily Spike." She said.

***

It was time for her to repay the demon for freeing her from her agony, for the food she ate, for the beasts it killed to protect her in her sleep.

There was no need to consider anything. Olivia owned the demon her life.

"I'll help you."

"…Thank you." The demon, no, Emily drew a smiling face, with two '^' for the eyes, on the ground. Olivia had become used to the demon's weird, but friendly-looking 'emojis'.

She once asked Emily to smile, then she told it to never do that again. 'Emojis' were much better.

"Come". It gestured. Olivia, in slow motion, came closer to Emily to hear what it had to say.

The demon drew in the shape of a building. It was the image of West Church. And 14 stick figures. And a sun, with arrow arching downward.

[14 guards in the church at night.]

[Each guard has crossbow and sword.]

[5 priests, sleeping in this room.]

[This guard patrols the surrounding of the church.]

[This guard patrols the main hall.]

…

The witch and the demon discussed their plan to raid the church till midnight. It was rather stereotypical.

Maybe one day, people would tell their children about the tale of a villainous witch and her companion, the murderous demon.

[I wanna hear that story.] Olivia thought. Something about it felt comical. She broke into a grin as she closed her eyes and welcomed the warm and reassuring darkness.