Two days had gone by and Mortus was still waiting for the demons to decide his fate. They’d left him in a very cold and empty room without any food or water. On the third day, he felt like he was going to die right there in the room. He walked to the door and pounded his fist into it. Though he regretted it because it took everything inside him to do that. The door opened a few hours later, and the leader of the low-born demons walked in.
“You look like you’re dying,” he said, looking him up and down.
“Why wouldn’t I when you’re trying to starve me?” Mortus asked sarcastically. The demon gave him a lethal look that shrivelled up his insides. Mortus looked down at his feet.
“You should be glad that I need you or else you would be dead,” he said, closing the door behind him. Mortus gul
