“Quick, we’ve got to get out of here.” The lead goblin says. He quickly pockets a small trinket that is not worth much. “I know but there must be something valuable here, or at least something useful. He lives on the 8th circle of Hell.” The shortest goblin complains. “It doesn’t matter we’ve been here too long anyway” retorts the lead goblin. The three goblins quickly follow their leader as he scampers away from the house. All four of them know that they are cutting it close and that the demon lord is leaving work now. 

__________________

A fairly tall demon can be seen leisurely walking down a well-worn path heading home after a normal day's work. He waves to the goblins scampering past. Strange, he ponders, they normally don’t come this far down the road. I wonder whose servants they are. He shrugs and continues on, passing by the mansions of the other demons he works with. Soon, he’s reaching his home, a modest one-story house with dark purple walls and bright green accents. The gray-skinned demon makes it to his door only to find it open with the lock missing. Enraged, the demon slams the door open more, making a dent in the wall from the force, looking for the intruders that dared enter his home. 

Yet, when the 8’ demon sees his foyer all he can do is gape in horror at what someone has done to his home, his safe space, the place that lacks the judgment of his peers. Seeing his plants, shoes -even his stim objects- strewn across the floor sends the demon's mind spiraling. His only thought is wrong wrong wrong wrong wrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwronGWRONG… Kicked into action by these thoughts he immediately runs to the shoe rack to right it, sitting down before placing the shoes back haphazardly.

-WRONG- 

Viscerally flinching at the shock that went through his body the gray-skinned demon tries again, removing the shoes and then placing them back. This time he organizes them by size.

-Wrong- 

This time the shock is not as violent so the demon tries once more. This time he goes by color.

-Wrong-

He gets the same shock as before and begins to ponder the other ways to order his shoes. Snapping his fingers the demon arranges the shoes by size and color. This time instead of a shock the demon feels only satisfaction and looks for his stim basket. Seeing it nearby he grabs it and places it dead center on top of the shoe rack. Of course, it takes a couple of tries before he is satisfied with its placement. The next step is the stim objects, 4 stim rings, 3 squishies, 1 small fidget cube, 1 infinity cube, 1 container of play dough, and 1 container of kinetic sand. A quick look shows that the objects are just strewn across the ground with no care and both the play dough and kinetic sand containers have been opened with their contents littering the floor. 

The demon sighs before saying, “Guess I’ll need the vacuum.” He crawls over and grabs the rings, squishies, fidget cube, and infinity cube to put in the bucket. The rings get placed on his fingers, with the squishies in one hand and the cubs in the other. Crawling back to the basket the demon realizes that there is sand on his hand and quickly deposits the cubs and squishies before rubbing the sand off of his hands quickly. Now, with his focus back on the basket he arranges the squishies so that the largest is in the center leaning against the back of the basket with the other two on the sides of it. Satisfied, the cubes get placed so that they are laying perfectly flat on the base of the basket in front of the squishies, in such a way that the cubes are touching each other but not blocking the center squishy. Finally, the rings come off the demon's fingers as he places them in a semicircle around the cubes. The demon grabs the two empty containers on the ground and brings his magic forth to get rid of the containers. 

With now empty hands, the fiery-haired demon stands up and walks over to one of his house plants, “Poor Samson, you barely lasted two weeks without getting knocked over. At least it wasn’t one of my idiot friends this time.” Bending down he set the aloe Vera plant, Samson, upright and leveled the dirt that remained in the pot, quickly dusting off his hands after. Stuff on his hands always made him feel dirty and icky. He goes over to his older plant, Lily, named after the type of plant she is, and delicately tilts her upright. Once again the demon lord levels the dirt and wipes his hands. Surveying the foyer the demon feels better. 

The sense of wrongness is gone now, but it is replaced with an intense dirtiness. The house feels contaminated. He heads to his cleaning closet and grabs the broom. First up, sweeping the floor. Then grab the mop for the floor. Next, get wipes and wipe everything down. Finished with the cleaning frenzy the demon goes to return the wipes only to pause at the sight of the kitchen. It was trashed, similar to the previous state of the foyer. Quickly returning the wipes the gray-skinned demon rushes to the living room entrance, only to find a similar sight, except the furniture was destroyed. The couch was upturned with large gashes, the wicker chair is torn to shreds, accompanied by its cushion, the stuffing of which is littered across the floor. Thank god his books weren’t harmed. 

There is too much change, disorder and destruction, the demon begins to feel overwhelmed and retreats to his room, hoping that it is still intact and he can rest there. Yet, when he enters the room no relief is felt, instead all of his feelings increase tenfold at the sight of his torn-up sanctuary. All of it quickly compounds into anger and soon pure malice is radiating off of the very powerful demon. His mattress is torn to shreds with a claw sticking out of it, there are clothes everywhere, the drawers for his dresser are all pulled out, the papers from his desk are on the floor, and even his bookshelf didn’t remain unscathed. 

The demon floods his power throughout the room creating a stifling deadly aura that would make even Lucifer tremble in fear. Using his vast amount of magic the books float back onto the shelf in hexadecimal order, the papers get neatly arranged back on the desk, and drawers go back in their place all fixed as clothes are folded and neatly placed inside by color or are hung back up in the closet. The bed that was once torn to shreds is replaced with the same type of mattress with a fitted sheet on top as the rest of the blankets make themselves on top of the bed, the claw sitting on the desk for examination. Once satisfied with his job the demon sends a pulse of magic into the room to unlock his two private rooms, the weapons room and the torcher chamber, which can only be unlocked with his magic signature. Thankfully, both rooms are untouched. 

Suddenly, while looking at his torcher chamber, the high-ranking demon gets an idea, a horrific, awfully evil idea. “W̶̝͍̔ë̶͈͙́ĺ̷̫͍̔l̸̯̅,” the demon growls, “such a deed t̶̯̆r̶͔͎̍u̵̎̈́ͅl̷̪̓̆y̷̟̳̅ should have c̵͕̯̭̫͇̉̈́̃̈́̅͂͐̀̅ò̵̘͕̻̹͕́̽́̊͐̇͘͝n̵̛̫̱̥̜̝̈́̓̏̽͋̉́͘͝s̷̜̲͚͈͝ę̶̬̖̦͎̰̖̈́̓̌̾͘q̷̪̝̼̜̩̩͉͖̳̰̓̒̀̀̄̚͝͝u̵̳͛͗̌̃̓̈́͜͠ȩ̶̹͂̽̽̔̔̿̀̈̍͑͘ͅñ̴̨̝̹͇̳̯̰̩̩̭̳̌̌͗c̸̳̯̣̜̬͊̈́e̵͕̒̂̈́̄̈̚͝͝s̵̡͓̰̲̲̥̯̮̹͇̽̉̍̇̆̂̄̉̈̔̔. Those responsible must be properly p̷̥̲̝̺̗̝͇͇̯̝͊̔͆͒́̀̅̍̂̒̇͐̄́̂̎̓͆̑̃u̴̥̗͙̩̘̤̅̆̓̇̓̈͋̑̒͌̒͠͝͝͝ͅn̶̙̭̓̀̀̃̋̋͊͛̄̑̎́̎̆̒͐̃́́͘͜ͅï̵̦̫̈s̸̨̡̰͇̲̫̼̞͖͕̬̗̺̥̯̘̀̑́̉͒͆̏̓͘͘h̸̢͚̞̙̤̖̮̦͚̬̱̺͙̥́̀͗̈́́͐͛͗͂̃̍͒͝͝e̵̩͙̒̓͆̋̈́̆̓͑̾͑d̸̢̢͕̙̭̺͈̤̩̥͋͒͜.” Smirking, the demon walks over to the desk and grabs the claw, “Yes. This will do nicely. Why don’t we have some f̶̘̮͉̆͠ȕ̷͉͉̪͠n̷͇͑̈̐?” Suddenly, the house is filled with a magic pressure, “But first,” suddenly items are being righted, floors are being cleaned, and furniture is repaired as the demon uses his magic to fix and clean his house, getting rid of the dirty feeling at having his house invaded, “let’s clean up a little. Don’t want the g̴͕̃ư̴̤e̶̞͗s̷̢͋t̵̠̿s̷̨̓ to see a messy house.” Walking into the weapons vault hidden in the bedroom closet the demon lord grabs a snap metal-tipped whip and a sacrificial dagger, that came from an old summoning. 

Satisfied with his choice of weapons the demon Draconus struts through the open bookshelf into his torcher chamber and gathers his magic for the final time this night. Wrapping his demonic powers around the claw and tracing it the demon finds, “G̷̨̯͗̕ö̸̦́̅̾͊̿̚͠ͅb̷̝͈̦̰͖̎͌̉̾̔l̸͙͑̀ỉ̶̼̖̰̣̳̪͚̗̕ņ̵̢̧͉̰̼̩̍͂̅͊ś̴̨̨̧͈̦̼͍̪͗̆̑̚.” The same group that he passed by earlier it seems. Wrapping his power around the scampering group he pulls his magic back to himself, teleporting the goblins to his chamber with their wrists trapped in chains. The demon grins a toothy evil grin, chilling the goblins to their very core. The smallest goblin soon starts begging, “Please s-s-sir s-sp-spare us.” “Yeah! We didn’t even take anything!” Another one pipes up. “S̵̛̙̉̈̂̓́̄͝i̴̩͛́̆̌̏̍̆̍̿̓̇̓̑̆͌̈̕͝͝l̷̢̡̛̤̣̬̮̼̠̮͖̼̠̥̜̙̙͉͈̈́̉̅͗̈́̌̾̓̐͑̍͐͘͜͠e̵͉͇̥̟̻͕͊͋̆͐͑̄ñ̸̨̛̛͍̰͈͎͇̜̮͉̫͎̣̭͓̘̱̫̩̠̒̑c̸̛͎̗̙̞͎̳͔̙̐́̆̉̽͂͊̋͆ë̶̮̜.” Anger, magic, and malice are radiating off the demon now as he says this. He cracks the whip and says, “I’m sure you know who I am. So, you know it's u̶̟͗̌s̷̥̈́e̷̻̞̲̕l̶͉̋̿̈́ė̵̪̯͚̃s̸̙͑͜s̶̨̲̱̏ to beg.” Quivering even more the lead goblin finally speaks up, “O-o-of course Lord Darmoth b-b-but pl-please we’re desperate.” 

CRACK!

The demon cracks the whip right onto the goblin’s sternum, creating a gash that slowly drips blood, resulting in a shout. “Ạ̷̡̮̖̜͍͇͕͇̮̣̰̬̝̩̑͂̏̿͑͝n̸̢̨̢̨̻̭͔͚̘̼̞͖̜͙̤̞͋̅́̿́͗̂̓̂́̚ͅỷ̵̨̛̟͇̞͈̰̱̩̥̮̰̰̥̠͆̓͒̽̍̈́̒̕͜͜͝͠ͅo̵͇̦̪͂͆̀̓̽͒̆̅̔̇͑͘͝͝n̴̢̈̉̆͑̚è̷̛̠͋͂̉̈́̈͒̿́̋̈́̃̾͠ ̷̲͖̗̰͍̮̘̥̈́͑́͛̒̀̾͂̊̓̃̂̕͝ę̷̛͖̟͉̝̠̖̲̫̙̻̏͂̌̒́̐̿̃͂̑̈́͋̈́́̈́͝l̸̞̦̠̖͚̿͜s̵̢̧̧͎͔͎̣̮̩̱̟̰͈͙̖̳̀͋̄̓̔̇̆̿͑̑̈́̒̎̓̕̚͝͝ͅe̵̢̡̩̭̹̤̘͓̺͕̟̠̳͖͂̆̊̔̇?” The demon intones with a threatening air to him. The goblins shake their heads no while trembling. The demon looks for his next victim and notices one of the demons has wet their pants. “Oh look,” the demon tilts his head while walking towards the soiled goblin, “your companion seems to have lost control of his bladder. Tut, tut, surely to be on this level of Hell you’ve experienced awful ţ̴̚̕e̵̦̅͜͠ř̴̯͇̖̂r̷͛͜ọ̷͋͑͝r̴̦̮͎̽͐͛s̴̛̺̉̽. Seems like you are faint of heart. Well no matter, you’ll still get the same t̶̖̉r̴̺̾e̷̖̓a̷̼̅t̷͇̍ṃ̷͛e̶͖͛n̸̥̕t̶͈̎ as your c̶͕̩̱͓̞̔̒͜o̷̡̤̫̥̗͑̅m̴͍̗͇̼͖͓̀̎̃̋̚p̴̬͙̓̓̒̎͌̚̕á̸̧̹̺̖͓n̷͔̳̉̑̊̎i̷̜̲̘̫̮̽͒̋͑͛ō̸̧̠̭̲̭͐̋̄̀͝͝n̸̡̞̺̋̊̄̅̊ͅs̴͇̣͙̮͑̾̈.” 

CRACK!

This time the whip goes across the goblin’s lower abdomen and the wet spot now grows with blood as the goblin lets out a ‘girly’ pitched, pain-filled screech. With his trembling now tenfold the demon notes how hard it will be to make a clean slash with his dagger. Shrugging off the thought he brings the dagger and makes a y-incision on the solid goblin. “Not as clean of a cut as I would have liked but it will do.” The demon muses. Pulling on his magic again the demon summons a bucket with a yellow-tinted liquid. The goblins wonder if it is pee, but pee would be merciful compared to what it truly is. Dipping the whip in the bucket the demon chuckles darkly, “Let’s see what your pain tolerance is before you p̴̪̑a̶̖̅s̷͍̒s̴̩͗ ̴͖̌ŏ̷͇u̶̝̔t̴̨̔.” Quickly moving the whip, the goblin gains three new slashes over his torso. 

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Shouts fill the room as the goblins start to sob while new and old wounds sting excruciatingly. The shortest goblin fearfully asks, “W-W-Wha-What’s i-i-in th-t-there?” The demon's head snaps towards the goblin, with a face-splitting grin showing his sharp teeth that open to respond, “L̷͈̥̥̩̀́̎ě̸̥̣m̸̪̖̈̏ơ̶̬̩̩̋̌̐n̶̥̿́̀̉ ̷̦͙̃̿̇͘j̵͕̗̓̄͝u̸̞̦͒̍ĩ̶̳̥͑͜c̷͙̓̕͜ḛ̶̳̄̏͒̊.” The three goblins’ eyes widen in horror, leaving the demon to huff darkly in amusement, “Who’s ṅ̸͖̦̜̞̪̲͕̔̆̓̀͒ē̴̛̖͇̲̞͈̌̽̎̾͌͜x̴̢̯̹̬̙̎͗͛̉̊͝ț̶̝̞̼̲͒̚?”