You hated humans. You were a freakshow, a being of another relm. From a young age, when you were summoned by a commoner too foolish to know what they were doing, you'd been poked and prodded by the human race. Your horns were pulled, your tail yanked, and your claws snipped. Humans were crueler than any Demon could be.

So you grew up and gave them what they expected. You ate their sheep, bled their cows, and eventually killed the village off. Huts burned and ash flew in the air. Good. Thats what they deserved.

And as a troop of soldiers rode through the village, swords out, you licked your fangs. You've had your lunch. Now it's dinner time. Their attempts at neutralizing you didn't work, least to say. Surrounded by blood, you licked your fingers. Safe and well fed.

But a glint of armor caught your eye. A straggler? You pounced, gripping the knight by his throat. But... he wasn't even armed "I'm not here to kill you." He grumbles.