The Demon Powerless

CHAPTER 1: PART 2 – The Demon Powerless

The morning sun filtered through tinted glass windows of the Aeterna Corporation’s headquarters, a skyscraper of black steel stabbing into the clouds. Inside, the penthouse office belonged to Jeremy.

He sat behind his desk, a wall of glass stretching behind him to reveal the entire city. His suit was immaculate as ever, his crucifix necklace resting neatly on his chest. Papers, reports, and digital screens hovered before him in perfect order. To the human eye, Jeremy looked every inch the unshakable young CEO.

But inside—something was wrong.

He flicked his wrist toward a pen resting on the desk. Normally, it would rise, float into his hand. But nothing moved.

Jeremy frowned. His eyes glowed faintly red. He pushed harder—telekinesis refused him.

He closed his eyes, reaching for the silence of telepathy. Normally, the thoughts of every employee in the tower whispered faintly like static. Today—silence.

Jeremy tapped the crucifix on his wrist. No pulse. No burn. Nothing.

A chill crept into his chest—not fear, but unease. He tried again. He mimed the trigger of a gun at the empty wall. His hand shook slightly when no shadow-bullet came.

The door opened. Joel, his personal assistant, stepped inside. Tall, sharp-dressed, glasses framing eyes that missed little. Loyal to Jeremy beyond all measure.

“You called for me, sir?” Joel asked.

Jeremy didn’t turn his chair. His voice was calm, but edged.

“Something’s wrong.”

Joel stepped closer. “What do you mean?”

Jeremy finally faced him. His crimson eyes were dimmer than usual, almost human. He raised his wrist, tugging back his sleeve. Smooth skin. No crucifix mark.

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, though he quickly composed himself.

“The mark… it’s gone?”

Jeremy nodded once.

“Both. The chest and the wrist. Vanished.”

Joel hesitated, studying him carefully. “Then… you are…”

“Human,” Jeremy said flatly, though the word tasted bitter.

For the first time in fifteen trillion years, Jeremy felt small. Mortal.

He closed his eyes. And in that darkness, memory flickered back: the girl in his arms, her lips against his, the tear falling, the burst of light.

Jeremy opened his eyes and said quietly, “Her.”

Joel tilted his head. “Her?”

“The girl. The one I saved last night.” Jeremy’s voice sharpened. “Find her. Now. Arrange a meeting immediately.”

Joel adjusted his glasses. “Yes, sir.”

Jeremy’s gaze fell back to the city, his reflection staring back at him from the glass. His jaw tightened.

The demon had become powerless. And the cause… was a kiss.

CHAPTER 1 (continued) – The Demon Powerless (Extended at Aeterna HQ)

The office was too quiet.

Jeremy leaned back in his leather chair, staring at his reflection in the glass wall. It was uncanny. His face looked the same, but there was… hollowness in his gaze. The faint glow of his irises had dulled.

He extended his hand again, palm facing up. He imagined the flicker of flame, the roar of fire that usually burst from his skin like a second breath. Nothing. His hand trembled.

“Pathetic,” he whispered, echoing the word he had thrown at the assassin the night before—but now it tasted like venom against himself.

Joel returned with coffee, setting it on the desk carefully. He lingered a moment, studying Jeremy.

“You’ve tried more than once.”

Jeremy said nothing.

Joel adjusted his glasses. “Perhaps it’s temporary. A fluctuation.”

Jeremy’s jaw clenched. “Fluctuation?” His voice cut sharp as a blade. “Do you know when I last failed to conjure fire? Or hear the whisper of thought?”

Joel said nothing, wisely.

Jeremy rose. His footsteps across the marble floor were soft, deliberate. He stopped before the far wall where a full-length mirror stood. His suit reflected back. His crucifix necklace rested calmly on his chest, black and cold. No glow. No pulse. Just an ornament.

“Look.” Jeremy tugged open his shirt collar. His chest was smooth, pale. The black crucifix birthmark that had burned into his flesh for eternity—gone. His wrist, bare.

Joel inhaled softly, though he masked it with a calm nod. “Something… has been taken.”

Jeremy’s reflection spoke back to him in silence. His lips curled.

“Stolen.”

He turned back toward his desk, snatching the coffee Joel had brought and tossing it into the air with a flick of irritation. The porcelain cup should have floated, hovered, danced before shattering. Instead, it fell.

The crash echoed too loud in the office. Brown liquid splashed across the floor.

Jeremy’s crimson eyes narrowed, anger and humiliation swirling. For a being who could bend reality, to be reduced to clumsy human hands was unbearable.

He exhaled sharply and sat again, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. His voice, low and measured, cut through the silence.

“She kissed me.”

Joel blinked. “…Sir?”

Jeremy’s gaze flicked to him, unreadable. “The girl. The one from last night. She fainted. But before that—she kissed me.” His eyes darkened. “And when she did… the mark vanished.”

Joel straightened. “Then she has it now.”

“Yes.” Jeremy’s voice was low, edged with cold certainty. “And I want it back.”

Joel inclined his head. “I’ll arrange a meeting.”

Jeremy nodded once, dismissing him. Alone again, he leaned back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in trillions of years, Jeremy felt a strange sensation gnawing at his chest.

Not anger. Not fear. Something worse.

Vulnerability.

CHAPTER 2 – The Crucifix Revelation

The silence after her gasp was heavy, pressing against the glass walls of her office.

Beyonce stared down at the black crucifix birthmark etched into her chest, her breath caught in her throat. It was so sharp, so perfect, as if it had always been there beneath her skin. She tugged at her sleeve with trembling fingers, and when she saw the second mark carved into her wrist, her knees almost buckled.

Her heart thundered against her ribs. “Oh my God,” she whispered, the words barely leaving her lips. “It’s… it’s real.”

Jeremy stood still, watching her as one might watch a storm forming on the horizon. His crimson eyes betrayed no surprise—only certainty.

Beyonce spun toward him, her voice breaking. “How come I have your crucifix? This doesn’t make sense!”

Jeremy’s expression didn’t shift. His voice was low, firm, inevitable.

“It happened when you kissed me.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting. “I—kissed you?”

“Yes.” He took a step closer, the air between them taut with unspoken tension. “And when you did, the marks left me. You carry what was mine.”

Beyonce shook her head quickly, as though the motion itself could erase the words.

“No. No, that’s impossible. Things like this don’t happen. You—you can’t just transfer marks or powers or—or whatever this is—by kissing!”

Jeremy’s jaw tightened. His tone sharpened.

“Not by choice. By fate.”

She backed toward her desk, clutching her blouse closed with one hand, still pressing her wrist against her chest as though trying to force the mark to vanish. Her laugh was nervous, brittle, defiant.

“Are you even listening to yourself? Do you know how ridiculous you sound? You’re just a guy. A strange one, maybe, but still just a guy. You’re not… whatever you think you are.”

Jeremy’s gaze darkened. He stepped forward until the light caught the sharp line of his jaw, the crucifix necklace glinting faintly against his shirt. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of millennia.

“Not all demons wear horns and crawl on their bellies. Not all monsters look like nightmares. Some of us… look like men.”

Her lips pressed together. She shook her head again, almost angrily.

“No. You’re trying to scare me. You’re just a—what? Some delusional… cosplayer? An escapee from a mental ward?”

Jeremy’s voice deepened. “I am not a man.”

“Oh yeah? Then what are you supposed to be?”

“A demon,” he said simply.

The word cracked like thunder between them.

Beyonce froze. Then—laughed. Sharp, disbelieving, defensive laughter.

“You’re insane. You’re standing in my office in a thousand-dollar suit, telling me you’re a demon. And what? I’m supposed to bow? To scream?” She stepped toward him now, her chin lifted defiantly. “You’re just a young-looking boy. What are you—twenty? Twenty-one?”

Jeremy’s eyes glowed faintly red, not bright, but enough to shimmer unnaturally in the daylight. He leaned down slightly, close enough for his whisper to chill the air between them.

“Seeing your age, I am twice as old as your first ancestors. I am fifteen trillion years old.”

Her laugh died in her throat. The color drained from her face.

“You’re… what?” she breathed.

“Fifteen. Trillion. Years,” he repeated, each word deliberate, carved into the silence. “I have walked beneath stars that no longer exist. I have bartered with kings who have long turned to dust. I have ended the lives of men who begged for death as the world forgot them.”

Beyonce staggered back, hitting the edge of her desk, gripping it tightly for balance. Her chest rose and fell with shallow, rapid breaths.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Nothing… no one… lives that long.”

Jeremy straightened, his gaze never leaving her. His presence filled the room, immense and suffocating, as though the walls themselves bent under the truth of his words.

“You think time binds me? You think mortality defines me? I am not a creature of your world, Beyonce.”

She shook her head violently, eyes wild. “No. No, no, no—this is a nightmare. That’s all. A nightmare. I’m just imagining this. You’re—you’re human. You have to be.”

Jeremy’s expression softened only slightly, though his eyes still burned with otherworldly fire.

“Please. Not all demons look horrifying. That is the lie humans tell themselves so they can sleep at night.”

Her voice cracked as she whispered, “Why me? Why did this happen to me?”

Jeremy’s gaze lowered briefly to the crucifix on her wrist before lifting back to her face.

“Because you stole my kiss. My first kiss. And with it, you stole my mark.”

Her lips parted, stunned.

“First… kiss?”

“Yes.” His voice was sharp, final. “In fifteen trillion years, no one has ever touched me that way. And because of that moment, I am powerless. Vulnerable.” His eyes narrowed, voice dropping into a blade-edged whisper. “So, you will kiss me again. And return what is mine.”

The silence stretched. Beyonce stared at him, her heart hammering, the crucifix birthmark burning faintly against her skin as though it recognized its true master.

But her voice, though trembling, came out steady.

“And if I don’t?”

Jeremy’s crimson eyes flared with a glint of danger—and something else. Something deeper.

“Then,” he murmured, “you will learn what it means to carry the weight of a demon’s soul.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***