Chapter Text
He had been wronged and he needed to get back at the demon the wronged him. His sister was hurt in the process. He was not going to let the devil get away with that. The owl hissed as he stocked the person that he was going to use as his tool. He has already found a place and has it ready for what he was about to do.
He stayed and waited sitting outside the castle waiting for the person that would leave the biggest mark on the devil as possible. He knows who that person is. The devil known as Ivlis. He was known to be an airhead and quite weak, the perfect prey. Also, it seems the flame devil was also Satanick’s favorite toy. He will break him. Make him scream and he will know that it is Satanick’s fault that he was being tortured.
Seeing the man emerge for the gates he drops down from the branch he was perched on. His wings gliding him over to just behind the dark haired weak devil. The rag in his had was covered in a potion most effective on demons. To knock him out to be transported to the cellar that he has ready. He is more then amused to be able to get the Satanick back for what happened. How long before he can break Pitch Black’s Devil’s favorite toy.
It has been such a long time since the Flame Devil could finally enjoy a break. Satanick had been much more clingy than usual those past few days, to the point that he never thought he would ever come back to his realm. However, it was not the only strange thing as he felt that even their child has been more distant with him as of late, not that he was too worried about it, as long as he was alright but he could not help being a little concerned anyway, not wanting to lose another child. Even while Licorice was different, he was still his. To get it out of his mind, the devil felt like taking a break from his usual responsibilities in the Flame World, just a little walk would do.
One would say he was out for some fresh air, but it was not exactly the case in a realm like his, he would rather enjoy the heat, contemplate the brightness of the flame gleaming through the strangely dark space, just like the inside of some volcano. It was enough to distract him though and he did not need to go too far. He was completely unaware of the presence around him, until the a light noise of feather caught his attention, pointy ear twitching as his tail froze behind him. There was no bird nor any kind of winged being in his realm, and bats would not make that kind of noise so if it was not just his imagination… As a shiver ran along his back, the Devil found himself unable to move though, as much as he wanted to turn around, there was a sort of big discomfort taking over and preventing him from making the slightest move. It was not like Satanick’s presence… the Pitch Devil was no longer as subtle and would have crashed through his personal space already.
It took him so long to try and think about what to do that whatever was following him was already way too close for him to react, covering part of his face with some kind of fabric. The scent was strong and despite his effort to avoid taking the smell, he was quickly feeling light headed, his tail wagging nervously for a moment as his scaled hands gripped at the ones holding him. After a moment, everything turn black, hands dropping to his sides along with his tail moving much slower before the struggle stopped completely, the Devil knocked out by what he was forced to breath in and getting numb in his unknown abductor’s arms. It would take him a while to wake up, only to realize that his break was over by the change of atmosphere. The familiar coldness of Pitch Black World