(A/N): I started these drabbles 'cause of a drabble music meme I came across by chance. Here are the instructions:

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.

It sounded like it would be fun and would stave off my boredom for a little while, so I thought, "What the hell," and did it. And here it is. Anyway, if anyone else would like to try the meme, be my guest. It's UBER FUN. Yes. I just said uber fun. Deal with it.

Warning/s: Some morbid and depressing themes, character death(s), and mild shounen-ai in Chapter 5 if you squint hard enough

Disclaimer: The Demon Ororon, it's characters, and all of its wonderful, tragic goodness belongs solely to Mizuki Hakase-sama.


What's the point of morals?

For safety. Security. Comfort. Self-restriction.

You don't believe in any of those.

He knew that. He knew that such luxuries had never been granted to him, and the very idea of restraining himself had always seemed preposterous. He was Ororon—he lived because he killed and he had accepted that fact centuries ago. At least, until now.

Why do you hesitate? Kill them.

Chiaki. His precious, exquisite, half-bred angel.

Kill them. Kill them all. Kill them now.

He could already picture her anguished sorrow featured prominently on her face—how she would clench her hands, how her knees would buckle from the heavy weight of his own sins—if she could see him now. It wasn't fair to cause so much pain for her, even if she made pain seem beautiful in his eyes like none ever could.

Weak.

He knew, he knew. Chiaki was his Achilles heel. Through blood stained eyes, he saw the path that he had destined himself for when he granted that boyish girl's ludicrously endearing wish—when he had vowed to stay by her side forever.

You'll hate yourself in the end.

No. You're wrong about that.

You've dug your own grave.

Perhaps.

It seemed ironic to him that after all the blood he shed for the sake of his own pathetic existence—demons of high-ranking, royal status, demons that were lower than the scum of the underworld, bogie monsters, predatory angels, family members—his life would be ended by one precious, little girl.