Demons And Owls

I watched as the darkness shrouded the human. As it enclosed it, like a thick, inky fog. This gutter of spite, so seething with lime-green deception and with eyes and hearts as black as her deeds.

She circled him, if it is possible for such a vapour to circle, invisible eyes searching for his soul, broken spells cast into her every movement. It has always been recorded that our kind was able to see the cracked ones. They were once our mortal foe, rivalled only by mice and wind, and we came to draw a mutual respect, but all that had dissolved into the thin nothingness now.
This one was different. I could see below her sheath of omnipresence, her tricks and guises, her flesh and mist. I could see her eyes, and the sight that seeped from them terrified me:
She was looking into mine.
I saw her mind turn over the words to my heart in her mouth. Twisting them with her Tongue. All I could do was watch and hoot. I slowly plucked at an upturned feather, stretching my rounded head round to oust it. My glazed, yellow eyes focused on her's, daring her to break the bond, to blink, to utter, to kill. My talons itched where they clung to the tree branch, my beak almost ready to give out another silent but aggrivating hoot.
The human seemed intentionally oblivious to my presence. Typical of his kind, I assumed, focusing back onto the soulless, perfect monstrosity.

But I was too late. While my head turned, she had uttered those forbidden words. The only true words. Without making noise but with so much meaning, my name was spelt out, and my eyes turned into my soul, and bore a hole through my head.

With a great screech, like a miniature lion, I, mudbeak the great, scourge of the shrews, and owner of most marvellous plumage, was slain.

"thud".

In reply to @naaviie 's reply to @MrAlex 's
'Demons and Hunters'.
I always fancied naming an owl.