The demon lay dormant deep within. It always possessed the threat of releasing its fury without warning, without hesitation. It’s monition summoned her attention when her screams for help became too close to the surface. Tortuous pain would admonish her for this behavior.
Her beauty was its mask. She was a beguiler. People passed her on the street, unaware of her imminent demise, her diminishing spirit. Her soul riddled with evil, her body haggard and jaded. Relinquishing control would make it go away. And then, just as it thought it was victorious, he came into her life, drenched in light.