The Demon King carried an aura that set him apart from the past Demon Kings of his lineage. Unlike them, who were known for their ruthlessness, cruelty, cunning, insatiable hunger for domination, power, or of centuries-old traditions. He used to be like that, but now he changed and softened up. Why?
Crocell Hades
It was until he met a human—a woman whose laughter and smile seemed to pierce through his darkness. She did not submit to fear or awe; instead she met him with kindness and a love that was entirely untainted by his terrifying reputation. Slowly he softened up. The cold sharp edges of his commands dulled, his laughter became less hollow, and the tall walls that barricaded his heart began to crumble. They got married in the end. This revealed a side of himself that none in his lineage had ever known. Who knew a Demon King is capable of experiencing happiness, an embrace, and love.
But fate was cruel.
The mortal was pregnant with the Demon King's child. But as she gave birth, life and death collided in a single cruel instant.
She died, leaving the newborn in the hands of Crocell, the very embodiment of life that was stolen away from him. Crocell's soul fractured in ways centuries of battle had never achieved. Rage, grief, apathy, and despair consumed him. How could the love of his life, the one and only woman who had softened his heart, be taken away from him by the hands of a life yet untested by the tragedies of this very world. The baby, who the woman named before they were born, "Caleb". Caleb was innocent and pure, unaware that he had become the cause of his father's suffering and the haunting reminder of the love he had lost.
4 year old Caleb.
Little Caleb who was freely roaming around the halls of the palace, hands spread out as if he was about to hug someone—wrong.
Caleb bumped into one of the knights and its commanders, their gazes pierced through the little innocent boy.
Eeek! I should've watched where I was going
Caleb brushed himself off, bowing, "I'm s—"
The knights didn't spare a second word to the boy, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him against the cool brick wall.
Agh!...W-what was that for? Are we playing catch- but I'm the ball?
"Are– hic, we playing catch–"
The knights gave disgusted looks at the boy, "Fucking mistake of the Demon King!" the knights stomped, kicked, punched, and even tried to slit Caleb's throat but knew that would go too far even if they wanted to.
Mistake?... It hurts… I didn't know playing catch would've hurted this much.. I should go to daddy!
Little Caleb barged into Crocell's chambers, his clothes tattered, and bloodied, gashes and ugly wounds covered his petite body.
"D-daddy—"
A book came slamming into Caleb's face—a book that weighed at least one hundred pounds, causing him to pass out.
…
Ughh ... .My head hurts Caleb slowly opened his eyes and regained consciousness. As he shifted his position—he was chained against the wall. His wounds grazed against the cement, whimpering.
W-why am I here? I thought – I - I was just in daddy's room…Then I blacked out?
A door slowly creaked open, a sheer light dimly lit the chamber up. It was Crocell.
"Daddy—" Caleb's voice was high-pitched, but was interrupted by the cold threatening voice of his father.
"Silence."
Huh? Did I do something wrong?...
Caleb obeyed and sat silent, he didn't even dare to move or lift a finger.
"From now on, this is your bedroom, and don't ever call me daddy or father, got it?" said Crocell, coldly.
"W-why—"
Crocell slapped Caleb harshly, leaving a prominent red mark on his soft cheek. Tears started to form, biting his lip to suppress any burst of emotion.
"Got it?"
Caleb simply nodded, "Yes…"
Caleb's father stared at him. His eyes empty of warmth and recognition, he stood silent for a moment before he raised his hand and slapped Caleb with brutal precision. The slap was sharp and more stinging.
He clutched his cheek, only letting out a silent whimper.
His father muttered, almost absentmindedly, "Fucking Mistake. Pathetic." then he turned and left, the door shutting with finality, leaving silence that was heavier than the blow itself.
The words echoed in his mind. Mistake. Wh-what does that mean?
That term was foreign to him, a puzzle that seemed impossible to solve. He only knows the growing ache in his heart that overwhelmed the pain of his wounds. The cold dread of having something irredeemably wrong.
In the days and weeks that followed, the chamber became a prison of humiliation and torment. Servants and knights entered in with cruel grins on their face, each interaction an act of mortification. Some shoved him violently against the stone walls of the cold chamber, laughing at the thud of his petite body. Others yanked him to the floor by his collar, mocking his fear as if that was the greatest entertainment they've ever had. Their words sharp as their hands—harsh laughter, insults, his weakness, his uselessness, even his very existence.
Oh? You think princes of the court were no gentler. They mocked him for his purity and innocence. They shoved him, struck him, stole his clothes and ruined them. They treated him like a creature that was meant to withstand any cruelty they would invent each day and week.
Things escalated so far the princes and knights started crude acts on the 4 year old Caleb just to fuel their sadistic pleasure. Maids and butlers would begin to glance at that door, as if afraid of being caught in the aftermath of what they allowed to happen.
Caleb's body became a canvas filled with bruises, scars, yellows blossoming across his arms and legs, each mark is the relentless cruelty he endured.
It hurts…This doesn't feel like playing catch or making jokes ... .I don't wanna play anymore games, I don't wanna be the ball again…Mistake… Is this what it means to be a "mistake"? To just get tossed in a room becoming everyone's play thing?...I have still yet to learn..