the large wooden door to my throneroom is tossed aside with a bang, an army of demons storming inside. i observe their gathered number calmly. i could **** each and every demon taking part in this revolt with ease. the problem is, i have no fight left in me. i've relapsed into my addiction to human blood, and i have no strength to cut off the rebellion. i'm exhausted, and i keep hearing my own words from that fateful night in the church so many years ago, knowing they could never become reality,

we deserve to be loved
i deserve to be loved
i just want to be loved

so, when the demon army orders me to step down from my throne, i agree. even if they sentenced me to death, i probably wouldn't fight it. yet, the demons are too afraid to attempt execution. instead, they allow me to return to my old profession as a crossroads demon. my work as a crossroads demon was the only thing i've ever felt truly confident in. i loved the job, and I was the best in the business. after all, i am king of the crossroads.