SebastianXReader Two Demons Prologue The night draped itself across the sky, the only light coming from the moon and stars. But even these were darkened by the fog that had rolled in, filling the streets of the city. The lights from the lamp posts glowed eerily in the fog and every sound seemed amplified as they bounced off building walls, making the streets of London seem even more frightening. Of course, this didn't faze you, no not in the least. And why should it? You were the most dangerous person walking the streets anyways well, potentially the most dangerous person, or, thing, walking the streets. You sighed, running a hand through your (h/l), unkempt and greasy (h/c) hair. A dog barked off in the distance and your ears twitched in the direction of the sound. Yes, your ears, cat ears to be precise. See, you were born ..different. A creature. Not human. You were bo
ToTheSwastika,DevotedAreWe.2 Adolf Hitler gave me a light smile. To my surprise, he raised his own arm in salute and declared "Heil Deutschland". My face flushed in both embarrassment and honor at his praise. The man I had adored for more than a decade was saluting me. Pure joy coursed through my veins. My eyes shone. As the days and weeks went on, I continued to look up to Hitler in the same way a young boy would to his father. When he wasn't busy with meetings or speeches, Hitler would tell me about himself and his glorious Nazi ideas. Some days he talked either about his mother or about one of his idols, the Fascist Italian, Benito Mussolini. On other days, he told me all of the ways in which the traitorous Jews and dangerous Communists had caused all of my pain and failures. He also would remind me how my race, the master Aryan race, had to be preserved. Everything he told me, I listen to eagerly. In my eyes, Adolf Hitler was a God.
I had thought that
ToTheSwastika,DevotedAreWe.1 When I first met him, he seemed confident, prepared, and passionate. The year was 1920, and everyone around me was suffering. Because of that, I was too. The economy had been destroyed, and my people were still full of bitterness over the result of the Great War. That fateful night, I found myself in my usual bar stool, drinking away the stinging of my pain. Like every other night, I had the bartender bring me my first frothing, overflowing mug of my favorite ambrosia. Just as I brought the beer to my lips, I heard him. His captivating voice rang out, drawing his listeners in until they forgot about everything but his beautifully strung words. With these same words, he commanded every bit of my attention. He promised me everything I had ever wanted. I became so convinced, so sure, that he could bring to life every one of my dreams. He was going to bring me back everything I had lost- the renown, the wealth, the glory, the powe