Spilossch the demon lived in a vast Netherworld populated by others of his kind. Much as he tried, he never seemed to fit in with the other demons. He had the insatiable hunger for something unknown, the same as the others, but it didn’t preoccupy him as it did them. They spent all their time attacking each other, bouncing against walls and screaming. He enjoyed a bit of fighting as much as the next demon, but it seemed to him there must be more.
The others seethed with hatred. They exuded anger. They exemplified rage. He thought maybe he could rise to such a level, with motivation. He heard whispered words like “revenge” and “passion” and thought such things might spur him on.
But for now he was an anomaly; the less than demonic demon. He didn’t worry. He might be lonely, but it was not as though the others led social lives.
One day, he felt a change come over him. Like so many others before in the Netherworld, he started to vanish. He opened his eyes in an alleyway, looking at a woman, for so he knew her to be. In the last split second before his personality integrated with his human host, he thought, “This is going to be...neat.”