by 
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My little demon can out demon your demon . That was the sentence that started everything . It sounded like a joke the first time it was said , almost playful , almost proud . But in the under world , words carry weight . When spoken aloud , they echo longer than intended , and sometimes they become truths that cannot be undone .
He was not large , not terrifying in the traditional sense . My little demon was small enough to disappear into crowds of shadows and smoke . His horns curved unevenly , one chipped at the tip , the other polished smooth by years of nervous touching . His skin held the dark red tone of old embers , glowing faintly when emotions rose to the surface .
Yet what set him apart was not his appearance . It was his confidence . He believed , truly believed , that he could out demon any demon placed in front of him . Not by force . Not by cruelty . But by something unexpected .
He sings and dances .
In a realm built on suffering , where screams were common currency and silence meant fear , singing was rebellion . Dancing was defiance . My little demon moved through the under world with rhythm in his steps , tapping claws against stone floors , spinning through corridors carved from anguish .
The under world stretched endlessly , layered upon itself like a nightmare that refused to end . Lava rivers glowed beneath iron bridges . Towers rose crooked into smoke filled skies . Chains rattled in unseen places , and distant bells marked nothing but time passing without mercy .
Through out the under world , whispers followed him . Demons paused in their duties to watch . Some laughed . Some sneered . Some stared in silence , confused by the sound of joy in a place that thrived on despair .
Trying to work his way out of hell was not a goal most demons dared to speak of . Escape was considered impossible . Hell was not just a location . It was a state of being . A loop of punishment and purpose that defined existence .
But my little demon believed otherwise .
He had learned early that strength alone earned only temporary respect . Bigger demons crushed smaller ones daily , only to be crushed themselves by something even larger . Power rotated endlessly , leaving nothing but exhaustion behind .
So he chose another path .
He sang songs that told stories of fire without pain , of darkness that held stars . His voice was rough , cracked from smoke and heat , but honest . When he danced , his movements were sharp and playful , turning rigid demon forms into awkward mirrors trying to copy him .
Laughter spread slowly at first . Then faster . A dangerous thing in the under world . Laughter weakened the rules . It bent them .
My little demon can out demon your demon . The phrase became a challenge . Other demons tried to prove him wrong . They mocked him , tested him , surrounded him . Each time , he answered the same way . With song . With movement . With a refusal to break .
Through out the under world , his presence changed the air . The walls seemed less close . The fires less suffocating . Even the screams softened when he passed by , as if something inside them recognized hope .
Trying to work his way out of hell meant learning its secrets . He listened while dancing . He watched while singing . He learned where the gates shifted , where the ground cracked , where the rulers argued among themselves .
The under world was not as solid as it pretended to be .
Demons began to follow him . Not openly . Not at first . They walked a few steps behind . They hummed quietly when they thought no one could hear . They tapped their claws to his rhythm .
My little demon never asked them to join . He simply kept moving .
One night , beneath a ceiling of burning ash , he sang louder than ever before . His voice echoed through out the under world , reaching places it was never meant to go . Doors trembled . Chains fell silent . For the first time in memory , hell listened .
Trying to work his way out of hell did not mean abandoning it . It meant changing it . Every step he danced carved a new possibility into the ground . Every note he sang rewrote a rule .
The rulers noticed too late .
By the time they confronted him , the under world was already different . Demons stood straighter . The air felt lighter . Fear had loosened its grip .
My little demon stood before them , small and steady , still moving , still singing .
He did not demand freedom . He did not threaten rebellion . He simply continued being himself .
And that was enough .
Through out the under world , cracks of light began to appear . Not blinding . Not sudden . Gentle . Patient . Like dawn learning how to exist in a place built for endless night .
Trying to work his way out of hell turned into something larger . It became a way forward . Not just for him , but for everyone who dared to believe that hell was not permanent .
My little demon can out demon your demon . In the end , it was never about winning . It was about becoming something hell could not hold .
And so he danced . And so he sang . And so the under world changed , step by step , note by note , until even hell had to let go .
