The story of Jet, the cursed demon who is sustained by eating the souls of others.Taking the lives of others and exchanging them with hell for a solid form, as without this deal opacity is too good to hope for, Jet's body will slowly disapear.
It didn't take much to get him to kiss me. The sweet taste of brandy on his blood flushed lips told me even if he were to live till tomorrow he would have no hope of remembering this.
Yet that made it no better. The sad fact is that I would remember, would remember for the rest of my life, his dirty hands closing over me, like a sparrow caught in a whirlwind tossed about in an inescapable nightmare.
I began to whisper the words under my breath, into his mouth. The words that would kill him infected his body, and I could feel his grip on me slacken. I felt sick at the sense of relief that washed over me as his hands fell from my side. I hated that he was touching me, this old sweaty man, but the fact that his hands were falling from my side meant he was dead. I had stolen his soul.