The Bridge of Betrayal
The Lord of Flies hovered silently toward his waiting escort a man once known as a politician in the old world. Handsome, sharp, and devilishly wicked when needed. A sympathizer. One of many who traded loyalty for survival in the age of demons.
"We have plenty to do," the Lord of Flies murmured.
"Yes, my Lord," the man replied, opening the door to a bulletproof Rolls Royce Presidential.
They drove in silence.
"You received a message," the man said. "From Lord of Greed."
"What does he want?"
"He requests a meeting. At the memorial bridge. Says it's urgent."
"Very well. Take me to him."
They arrived.
Lord of Flies stepped out, wings folding behind him. Lord of Greed stood alone, massive and pure gold armored, gleaming in the dusk.
"Why summon me?" Lord of Flies asked.
Lord of Greed grinned.
"Just wanted you to know my legion now outnumbers every other in the Kingdom of the Damned. Four to one."
Lord of Flies narrowed his eyes. "Why does that matter?"
Greed's smile twisted.
"Last time we met, you disrespected me. Never apologized."
"There was nothing to apologize for."
Greed's grin vanished.
"Too bad. I thought we could've had a future."
He swung his a long gold blade with human bones engraved in it..
Lord of Flies dodged, wings flaring.
"What are you doing, you big fool?"
"Evening the score."
The sword came again. Lord of Flies dodged until thwip.
An arrow pierced his back.
He staggered.
The escort. A trap.
Greed raised his sword for the kill.
But Lord of Flies caught his wrists, holding the blade at bay. Then dropkick the demon. He launched Greed backward, spun, and lunged at the traitor.
The sympathizer tries to run but gets two feet away till Lord of Flies grabs him and
Snap.
The man's neck broke clean.
Greed roared.
"You squirm like a bug!"
"And you're one big buffoon who's about to die."
Greed charged.
Then buzzing.
A swarm of flies descended. Thousands. Armored. Fanged.
Greed swung wildly, but it was useless.
They devoured him.
Screams echoed across the bridge until they didn't.
His body dropped.
Lord of Flies turned, blood dripping from his wings.
"Trust," he whispered, "is a rare thing."