.....
The demon's voice trembled as it spoke, its once confident tone now filled with fear. "H-How did you find me?" it stammered, the words escaping its lips almost like a plea.
The man stood before the creature, calm and composed, his gaze unyielding. His presence exuded a quiet but potent power, one that seemed to suffocate the very air around them. He took a step forward, his boots barely making a sound on the metal floor of the plane, and spoke with a measured calmness.
"It's simple, really..," he began, his voice carrying an authority that sent a shiver down the demon's spine. "You've been leaving a trail, a trail of despair and destruction. Every plane you've touched has vanished without a trace....each disappearance a ripple that echoed across the world. But you see, those echoes led me straight to you."
The demon's eyes widened as the man continued. "You thought you were clever, didn't you? Jumping from one airline to the next, from one doomed flight to another, always thinking you were one step ahead. But all you did was prolong the inevitable. All you did... was delay your death."
"The man dark figure flowed and the bloodlust in the air increased like no other.."
"My death?" the demon spat, its fear quickly morphing into anger. Its grotesque almagamation of eyes narrowed, glowing with a sinister light as they glared at the man.
The words felt foreign in its mouth, as though the concept itself was absurd.
The air around the demon began to vibrate with dark energy, a manifestation of its rising fury.
In an instant, the demon thrust its hands forward, and the air within the plane seemed to thicken, growing cold and oppressive. Darkness began to seep from the demon's fingertips, spreading outwards like an ink blot on paper, quickly engulfing the entire plane. The passengers, unaware of the impending doom, were swallowed by the encroaching void, their screams silenced as the darkness claimed them.
The cabin lights flickered violently, then died, leaving nothing but the deep, unnatural blackness that pressed in from all sides. It was as if the plane had been plunged into another dimension, a world where light was a distant memory. In the suffocating gloom, shapes began to emerge from the floor, grotesque and twisted forms that clawed their way into existence.
These dark figures, abominations born of the demon's malice,
slithered and writhed as they took shape. Some crawled on all fours, their elongated limbs dragging their misshapen bodies across the floor, while others stood upright, their forms vaguely humanoid but with features too twisted and wrong to belong to anything of this world. Their eyes, hollow and void of life, locked onto the man, and a low, guttural growl rumbled through the darkness as they began to advance.
The man stood his ground, his expression unreadable as he watched the abominations approach. The air around him seemed to shift, the oppressive weight of the darkness failing to reach him, as if he existed in a bubble of light amidst the void. He reached for his belt, his movements deliberate, his hand closing around the hilt of his sword.
With a smooth, practiced motion, he began to draw the blade. The sound of metal sliding against metal cut through the silence like a whisper of death, and as the sword emerged from its sheath, it seemed to bring with it a faint, ethereal light that pushed back against the surrounding darkness.
The blade, though only partially drawn, gleamed with a cold, unforgiving light, its edge sharp enough to split the very fabric of reality.
The dark figures hesitated, their advance faltering as they sensed the power emanating from the weapon. The demon's eyes flicked to the sword, its earlier bravado faltering as a flicker of doubt crossed its features.
It recognized the blade, or rather, it recognized the energy that radiated from it—a force that was older than time itself, a force that had claimed countless lives before and would continue to do so for eternity.
The man spoke again, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "There is no escape, you filthy Oni. Your time has come." His words were not a threat, but a simple statement of fact, as undeniable as the rising sun.
The demon snarled, baring its teeth in a final act of defiance. "You think you can kill me?" it hissed, its voice dripping with venom. "I am eternal! I am the darkness that consumes all! You are nothing but a mortal, a speck of dust in the vastness of time!"
The man's expression remained unchanged, his eyes locked onto the demon's. He continued to draw the sword, the blade fully revealed now, its length glowing with an inner light that seemed to pulse with life. "Perhaps," he replied, his tone still calm, "but even the darkest night must yield to the dawn."
With that, he raised the sword high, the blade catching what little light remained in the plane's cabin.
The dark figures that had been closing in on him now recoiled, their forms twisting and contorting as they tried to retreat from the weapon's radiant glow.
But it was too late. The man moved with a speed that defied comprehension, his sword slicing through the air in a perfect arc.
The first abomination fell, its body disintegrating into shadow as the blade cleaved through it. The man did not pause, his movements fluid and precise as he turned to the next, and then the next, each swing of his sword dispelling the darkness that had enveloped the plane.
The dark figures, once a terrifying horde, were reduced to nothing but wisps of smoke, their existence snuffed out by the man's relentless assault.
The demon watched in horror as its creations were destroyed, one by one, until nothing remained but the two of them, alone in the void. The man lowered his sword, his breathing steady, his eyes still fixed on the demon.
The creature's fury had turned to desperation, its form flickering as it tried to summon more darkness, more abominations, anything to stop the man from delivering the final blow. But the darkness that had once obeyed its every command now seemed to resist, the void no longer responding to its master's will.
The man took a step forward, his sword still glowing with that same cold, relentless light. "It's over," he said, his voice low but firm. "There is no place for you in this world."
The demon snarled, backing away as the man advanced. "No! I will not be defeated by the likes of you!" it screamed, its voice cracking with fear.
But the man did not waver. He raised his sword once more, the blade poised to strike. "Your reign of terror ends here" he declared.
And with a final, decisive swing, the blade cut throuhh the darkness, through the demon, and through the very fabric of the void itself. The plane shuddered as reality reasserted itself, the oppressive darkness dissolving into nothingness, the light returning in a blinding flash.
The demon's roar echoed one last time, a sound of pure agony and defeat, before it was silenced forever. The man stood alone, his sword lowered, the battle won.
The plane, now back in the real world, was silent. The passengers who had survived the ordeal began to stir, unaware of the nightmare they had just escaped. The man sheathed his sword, his expression unreadable, and without a word, turned and walked down the aisle, leaving the remnants of the darkness behind.