Graverobber I can Steal Spells of the Dead

Lyro found the daemon mask in a pile of trash. He knew its worth, so it only puzzled him why it was here, in the Outskirts, where only the banished and broken belonged.

Who cares? Its mine now, Lyro claimed, clutching it close to his chest as he zipped up his jacket. He wanted to try it on, but the only thing out here in more excess than trash was greedy eyes. Disease too, he thought with a cough, making his way back to the burned building where he spent his days. Ill have to wash it first, he thought, feeling the hollow eyes of the mask beneath his jacket. If I want to keep my sight. Even though there wasn anything worth looking at—not out here—and the water was poison anyway.

The Outskirts wasn a place anyone wanted to be in, which meant its only residents were the ones forced out of the city. The air was always musty and foul, the landscape no less drab and dirty, winding paths twisting about mounds of junk formed of abandoned and dumped things small as needles and buttons and big as cars and trucks. Crows and vultures circled lazily in the muddy skies, waiting for men dead of disease or defiance. Lyro hadn been the one to murder a rich city man for his money, it was his father, so why his mother died giving birth to him in this dump, he did not know.

Growing up all on his own, Lyro had to teach everything to himself. Including survival. Mostly survival. But some things he wished he hadn learned. Like the fact that the glowing tower visible from here, standing tallest at the heart of Clearlight City, was actually the headquarter building of the Daemon Hunter Association. People lived there. The towers peak kissed clouds and it was a house! Their meals must be costlier than the entirety of the Outskirts. How could people get so rich?

He knew the answer. Everyone did. By hunting daemons, how else? That much was certain. Lyro had seen the wealth of lesser hunters when he used to sneak into the city in broad daylight, so he feared imagining the wealth of the ones above them all. They say Tonio Lightbeam owns the biggest daemon hunter guild. He must be the richest man alive.

Lyro felt the nose of the daemon mask. If I sell it to Hetry… It would fetch a pretty price for sure, but then it would end up on the face of another daemon hunter, making the rich even richer. Id rather break it to pieces than hand it over, he concluded bitterly.

A group of thugs was nearing, so he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants to not raise any suspicion. They were hauling a cart full of junk, most likely to the Street of Scrap. Expensive junk, yet junk nonetheless. Lyro had been trying to do the same when he found the daemon mask. The factory by the river recycled stuff. But only the men actually working there made money, and they always had more people working there than needed. The rest simply tried their luck in finding something of worth to sell. The ones too good to rummage through trash got involved in crime. These three worked for such a man, Lyro knew, so he kept his eyes from their things as he walked by them.

”What ya got there? ” one of them called. ”Ay, grey-head. ” Lyros hair was actually black, but only after a wash, and not for long, not out here. ”You deaf, bwa? ”

That wouldve been a great excuse. ”Yes. ” If only Lyro hadn been so dumb, his mind being too preoccupied by the daemon mask to think straight. Im rusty…

”I see that, ” another pointed. ”Whats under yer jacket? ” Greedy eyes miss nothing.

”Pull the zip down, ” the third said. ”Lets have a look. ”

The other two glanced at him and chuckled. ”Suspect ass mother**er. ” The accused chuckled in return—

Lyro ran for it. I haven even tried the mask on—! He was on the ground tasting dust and dirt before he knew it. ”Get off me! ” Lyro shouted, pushing at the face of the one who had tackled him. ”Now we know ya got something in there, ” the man said, clinging to him.

”Alright, I give up, ” Lyro said, raising his hands. ”Ill show you, so get off. ” What could he do to get away?

The man raised a brow but did so, the other two now standing even closer. ”Chop chop. ”

Lyro climbed to his feet, dusting off his pants. ”Yeah, yeah. ” He reached for his neck, pulling down the zip of his jacket. ”Its mine, so back off. ” He knew the mask was about to get stolen the moment he pulled it out and those greedy eyes fell upon it hungrily.

”A daemon mask! ”

”You shanked a hunter or what, boy? ”

”For sure snuck into a city mansion and stole it. The balls on this kid. ”

Lyro took a step back as they straightened up, looming over him, eyeing with nothing but greed. ”Now lets all be on our way, ” Lyro suggested. ”Its getting dark. ”

They glanced at one another, then laughed. ”Gimme that, boy, or Ill take it from ya. ”

Lyro gulped. They were three. No chance his skinny ass was going to beat them. And hed found running was not an option either. ”Its mine, ” he said again, taking another step away. ”Find one yourself. ”

”I just did, ” the first one said, grinning. ”Im out to get rich, baby. ”

”Why sell it? ” the second suggested. ”Can be a daemon hunter with one of thems. ”

”I always wanted to be a daemon hunter, ” the third said. ”Enterin dungeons, killin beasts, **in beauties. I like me some adventure. ”

Lyro stabbed his fingers through the eyeholes of the mask to hold it, swinging it over his head, knowing there was no way out. ”Fuck off, or Ill break it! ”

”Hah? Well **in break you if ya do that shit! ”

”He won . Even rats know the worth of a daemon face. ”

”Dimwits don . Ill get him— ”

Lyro threw the mask on the ground, slamming it hard. ”FUCK OFF! ” If he couldn have it, he wouldn let anyone else have it either. And here I thought it was my ticket out this dump…

The mask rested face down on the ground without a single crack or even a scratch.

”Fuck. ” Lyro jumped on it before the others moved, getting it under him.

”Get away, bwa, I don wanna kill ya! ”

The hail of fists and kicks fell upon Lyros head and ribs, but he only curled up further, getting the mask right underneath his face. It was over. Theyd beat him up and take it away. Life did that to Lyro a lot. He lowered his head. At least Ill try it once—

A rock crashed against the back of his head, flattening him on the ground. He was surely dead. He was… He… Thinking was hard… His mind was numb, but he heard the voices through the ringing and pain.

”Pissed me off! ”

”You killed him! ”

”Get the mask! ”

The back of Lyros head throbbed with the worst pain of his life as blood gushed out of the searing wound, crimson lines trailing down past his ears, streaking his face, dripping from…

Lyros bloodied face. Buried in the mask. I…did it…

[Youve awakened the Graverobber!]

Huh? Somehow…this voice didn come from the outside. But how could that be? Hed certainly lost his senses now. He couldn feel his body. He was surely dead.

One of the thugs flipped him over, smiling. ”Its still good. ” He reached down with a dirty hand, fingers gripping around the edges of the mask on Lyros face. He pulled it away, looking at the other two. ”Todays a good day. ” Lyro could see their smiles. Was he not dead, then?

The thug looked down in confusion. ”The haell? ” He pulled on the mask harder. ”What the shit! ” He tried to yank it, but only his fingers came loose.

”Need help? ”

”Lemme try. ”

”Nah, ” he said, holding Lyro down by a tightened grip around the throat, as he pulled the mask with his other hand. ”I got it. ” He clenched his jaw and grunted as he tried again. And again he failed, the daemon mask refusing to come off Lyros face. ”The **! ” he cried his complaint. ”How the haell… ” He trailed off when he noticed the icy puff riding his voice.

Before a frosty chill surged through the air.

”Do as I say and I will let you live, mortal, ” Lyros tongue and lips moved, but it was not his words, nor his voice. ”Beg for mercy. ” Lyros hand reached up, but not at his will. It grabbed the man by his neck, fingers squeezing together before he could respond to the voice that just came out of the mouth of the kid he had killed.

Lyro climbed to his feet, but he was not the one guiding the motion, nor the hand squeezing the air out of the thug. ”Do it, ” his lips moved again. ”Beg. ”

The mans face flushed purple, his mouth fuming, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

”Kids possessed! ”

”Kill him! ”

Lyros head turned toward them without him doing it, his eyes shooting a chilling glare he did not know them capable of. ”You must be with this one. ” Lyros hand lifted the choked-out man with ease, then flung his limp body to the other two. ”I shall give you easier deaths. ” Deaths? Instead of being out, was the man really…dead? And how was Lyros body moving on its own?

The daemon mask… Is this what a daemon possession felt like?

The thrown body crashed against the other two, knocking them back into their junk cart.

Lyros left hand straightened out in front of him, palm outstretched. ”You have my permission to brag in haell that I was the one to kill you. ” His arm felt as if it were burning, but there was no pain to it, only a slight tingle, the sensation running down from his shoulder to his hand.

The two men helped each other back to their feet, kicking away crap they crashed into. ”Whats happening? ” ”Bullshit, I say! ” They checked up on the fuming one. ”Hes…out… ” ”Killed by that…boy? ”

”Furysphere, ” Lyros tongue called, the sides of his lips curving up, the sensation down his arm feeling hotter and hotter.

Before it was all gone.

Lyros fingers squeezed the air in front of his held-out hand, as if something was supposed to be there. Then his eyes regarded his callused palm, as if something was wrong with it. ”Pathetic. What a weak host. ” No arguing that.

The thugs charged with steel rods. ”You
e dead! ” ”Die, you **er! ”

”By mere mortals? ” Lyros lips were a line. ”Who do you think I am! ” His fist crashed into the skulls of the thugs, snapping their necks, bone sticking out of their throats as they went down, blood pulsing out and pooling around their corpses, turning them into an invitation for scavengers.

Lyros clenched fist pulled closer to his chest. ”I am the Daemon King Mezlok, the Nightmare of Aengels! ” His finger pointed to the dead men. ”Take that to Saetans Haell, you mortals! ”

Only then his eyes fell upon his mangled fingers. ”Pathetic. Utterly Pathetic. ” A condescending scoff. ”But I can expect any more of mortals— ”

Lyro screamed in excruciating pain. And it was him screaming, him feeling all the pain. ”AAAOOOWWW! ” He glanced at his broken purple fingers with thin eyes as sweat mixed with the blood trailing down his face, falling to his knees as the pain in the back of his head overwhelmed him. ”Fuck… ” he cried. ”Fuck…! ”

[Vitality: (1/10)]

”Whats this now? ” Lyro didn say this, his lips didn move. This time, the voice called from inside his head. His throbbing head.

”Huh? ” Lyro groaned in confusion, not sure if any of this was real. ”You tell me— ” He grunted loudly from the pain, the sight of his twisted hands becoming unbearable even to him. ”Is this what happens when you wear a daemon mask for the first time? The daemon takes control and kills whoever is around while wrecking its hosts body as well? ”

”You have managed to resist my possession, boy. I just found an interesting mortal! ”

Laughter. Joyous and loud. Only a daemon laughs at death.

So its real, Lyro thought. All of this…

Including him dying.

Fuck!