The Devil's Prophecy

There is a click-clack coming down a pathway that is lit in total darkness. The pitter-patter of acid raindrops onto the rugged black surface. In the far distance, there is a howl, yet more like a cry. Thunder roars to create the perfect balance for ultimate chaos and pure raw horror.

If you find me walking past your room this very moment, you know that you have landed where nothing really exists anymore. The only reality shall be that of your fear, your own personal agony that you have created for yourself.

You have earned yourself a one-way ticket to my playground.

Welcome to hell.

The sun does not shine here, nor is there anything living, including you, my dear friend. You will live in your agonizing present with the deed that has brought you down here. A time loop of the sin you so foolishly committed that, up there, brought you great pleasure.

Here it is my pleasure to see you suffer.

Here I am Damien, the Devil's son.

Now, do not get me wrong, I love to see pain brought to your face over and over, but this does not hold the same excitement it used to hold me before. It is the same as always, mostly, funny enough, it is not murder, yet they are my favorite ones to watch. What gets you down here is your own greed; you, yourself, will be your own downfall.

Although I do love to watch you stew in your own mess, I do also sometimes crave the things that a man like me should not crave. Those little things that are forbidden.

I crave flesh.

Here is where you should not get me wrong, I am not a flesh-eating demon. I feel the need for interaction with another than that of a poor doomed soul and the ones that so eagerly feed on them.

Which brings me here, the gates of hell.

I have, on so many occasions, tried to force myself through and step into the world of the real living. Heaven, I am truly not fazed with. Dad has his fair amount that sneaks in here on the odd occasion. What I crave are the things that only a human can provide. What it is, that I cannot tell you. My fascination is high, and I am eager to explore.

So after many days and nights, which down here makes no difference, I have carefully considered that I shall take that bold step. I know that there shall be great consequences for my actions should my father find me out, or worse, my true identity come known to a human.

The moment has arrived. I have made sure that my father will be occupied at the very moment. A sweet little angel that I snuck in earlier today. He shall have endless fun with her in his own little time loop. It gives me the opportunity that I have been eagerly waited for.

So, I mask my path and keep out of sight from any demon; the pesky little things can really be such a nagging pain at times. With a heart-pounding in a heavy chest, I find my way at the gate that keeps us away from the world that beyond this truly exists.

Yes, I said pounding, but that shall be a discussion of another day. Today, now, at this very moment, I, who has, as sneaky as I can be, stolen the gate keys when father was not looking. I had one of the blacksmiths forge me a new one, and there, I have my own.

With a hand that slightly trembles and short stuttered breaths, I only but whisper to myself. "Breathe, Damien...Breathe...You can do this."

With one click, the door slowly opens.

There is a bright light that blinds me but for a moment. No, I am not in heaven. I have entered when these humans have their day.

Now let me paint you the picture. This is not a gate that leads into a rose garden. It is not the type of gate that leads into a park. This gate, well, it has landed me in a pile of filth and mud. Somewhere on the outskirts of this city, the gate that leads you to hell is found on the edge of an old abandoned graveyard.

After closing the gate firmly behind me, for we do not want any demons to come out, I make my way through the graveyard that has not seen any new souls in years. As they say, this one is fully utilized, well, not only by space, but we have had many additions from here ourselves.

It is a horrid life, but somebody has to do it. Father hates walking around the tortured souls. He says that it has become beneath him. He will rather enjoy repeating his own little sin after sin. On the other hand, I love the hand that I have been dealt, but now I am looking for a little bit more. Father dangles his fingers in heaven; I will be dangling mine in earth.

So, what seems like only minutes, but in fact is nearly half an hour, I find myself entering the city limits. It is magnificent to see all the towering buildings that shine in the afternoon sunlight. There are the honking of cars and the sounds of so many voices. A sound that I am completely unfamiliar with. It sounds like pure music to my ear. There is no agony, and there is no crying. It is perfect. Confusing. But perfect.

There are so many places to go and so many things here to see; I thought I would only have to come out once here; I have gladly been mistaken. So the very first place that I am drawn to is a park that is near the city center. Everything is green, filled with a rainbow full of colors. The smell is even yet beyond me. I never have, and I shall say again, never smelled anything apart from fear and complete nothingness. It is as if my senses are set to pleasure.

I do understand now why this is forbidden, and even more, I do understand why these humans sin. They live with temptation every day. I have now tasted the forbidden fruit; I will find here what it is that I seek.

In the far corner of the park, I find a bench; I shall sit and watch them, learn them. They are fascinating when they are still fully intact; when they get down there, they are in pieces and completely shattered. I shall, in a way, say, here they are still fresh. Again, I do not wish to feed their flesh; I wish to touch one.

So I sit in my little corner, and I stare over this park; there are humans with their children playing what is called catch. Then there are humans, which I believe they call them couples; they are sitting tucked in each other's arms. And there are also the ones that are just sitting by themselves, reading.

But then...

I feel it come traveling through the air; it hits me off balance and shocks me back into the chair. I feel as little tingles flow over my body. I feel my skin as it is set alight; my heart starts to beat that fraction faster. I try to utter but one word to myself, but it comes out strangled.

So I turn my head in the direction that the scent has come, and as my deep brown eyes finally meet it, I am completely thrown off my feet. I have not seen any such beauty; it is radiating from her skin. It is as if the sun is glowing from her; her soft brown hair is playing in the wind over her shoulders. I can feel the vibration her body gives to the earth crawl up into my own body.

This, this is what I want.

I want to lay my hands softly against her skin and just feel her.

I want her touch.

But I am a man that knows nothing about a woman, let alone a woman that is a human. But her scent is so intoxicating; I don't care what I do know and what I do not; I just need her.

How?

How do I get close to her?

As I give myself a once over, I do not quite present the man that such a delicate creature shall talk to, let alone touch. I do seem to come across as odd in all my six-foot-two glory, with muscles that flex in tighten in a black designer suit. I could easily settle as an undertaker.

So, I close my eyes and get lost in her scent, which carries me to another dimension. I count from ten to one and build that courage and determination that the son of the devil has.

But then...

I find myself completely under the spell that this delicate creature has put me under. I know that if I count down for but one more second, I shall find myself right where I want to be. In the presence of beauty. I will be completely lost in what is so intoxicating. I can yet not place if it is her scent or her beauty that draws me most. Right here from where I am sitting, I can almost see the hairs on her porcelain skin stand at end as the cool breeze flows over her body.

But before I can experience what I have come here for, I am ripped away from her spell as my dear father is calling.

Well, one would find that rather peculiar for how would hell make contact with those on earth. The plain answer, they don't. Father, as with every other creature that finds itself as demon, angel, and the devil's son himself, only but communicate with their mind.

If father had been able to call me, the man would have known his son is playing on the wrong playground.

So, I set aside what I crave, for I cannot ignore my father's call.

I shall have to wait for another day to touch this beauty. The problem with earth, and yet so with hell, but earth is rather more, it finds itself as too populated, and finding this very soul again, will be near to impossible.

With that, I drop my head in sad defeat, only for today, perhaps tomorrow I shall meet one that is even greater than her. But for now, I need to return to the place that I call home. And it is with that, that I find myself only but half an hour slipping back through the gates of hell.

But as I have said, this is where I thrive, and this is where I love to be, though today has sparked more than a little interest.

And what else sparks my interest is my father being somewhat more irritable than normal. Now, I have learned to tread very carefully when he finds himself this way. The minute I enter his home, this is yet another picture to behold, my father does not sit on a throne in a dark, rather large room. No, my father finds himself in an actual mansion that he has created as his own little fantasy, though truly not a fantasy for the damn ungodly thing is real. And yes, there I cringe, for I should not say that word.

But let us pull it all aside, for he is burning hotter than his own hell, "Damien, where have you been?" Yes, that already has got me nervous, but then he continues, "I have been calling after you for several hours."

What the devil can do is spot a lie from a mile away, so I need to answer this one very wisely, "I had a good old laugh at our property mogul there far down on the west side. I think the man has been driven insane in his own hell."

"Well, there is exactly where the man should be; if he were not, then you would not be doing your job as you are required to do." He pauses for but a brief moment. "You have been born to set the death of hell into each soul that finds his way here, and of course, keeping those damn demons under control." He steps away from the giant table that finds its in the corner of his study and hands me a glass of his best whiskey. Now, this very gesture spells only but trouble.

So, all I do is have a sip and the chilled glass of whiskey and wait for him to tell me why he is not busy occupying himself with that perky little angel that I brought him. It does come as strange, but some of the heavenly creatures do crave a bit of the forbidden fruit. I guess, in a way, we all do; it does not matter on which side you find yourself.

Right now, I think I might be finding myself on the wrong side of my father's hand, but we are yet to find out as his breathing seems to be calming down, and he can form words that are not only mumbles. "Damien," he says. "I am afraid that someone has breach the gates of hell."

This is where I combust and shatter to piece. Did he just say that someone has breached the gates of hell? Am I going to be left with telling him where I truly was for the past several hours? I do hate to lie to my father, but I want to see that woman again, or at least another that shall captivate me just the same.

So I choose to, "What do father mean that someone has breached the gates of hell?"

"Well, we seem to be missing one demon, and I have personally gone and account for the rest of them." His fury grows as I see white-hot flames burning in his eyes. His skin is set aflame, and I mean aflame. Yes, the devil does burn hot red, without the flames, if he loses his composure.

Now, I beg to ask the question, "But how would he have gotten out?"

"Well," father starts to explain. "He managed to get himself into heaven. Do not ask me how the fucking sneaky bastard did, but not only does he get into heaven, he gets his filthy ass down onto earth."

With that, I breathe a sigh of relief; yes I was trembling somewhat over here, though that is now the least bit of our problems. "Father. Soul eater or Flesh eater.?"

I watch as his face turns from a strangled pain to one that shows defeat, "Both."

The terror that was boiling in my heart has now erupted and flows like lava through my veins. "Do I dare wish to ask what is his intention?"

"That, my son, I do not know. But..." he takes a rather loud breath that is only released in a rumble. "I am not going to sit back and find out."

"But father, sending a demon army to earth is just as bad as having one gone rogue."

"That is why you will be going."

I gasp at the thought that it has been placed on my shoulders, but then I do remember my very own reason why I have snuck through the door myself only but several hours ago. Does this mean that I will be able to feel what I felt from that beautiful creature?

"When," is my only answer, as swift as the wind takes it down these corridors.

"You shall leave at once. We have managed to get the location from where he exactly entered. You shall move from there, and you shall seek for him."

My heart can barely contain the excitement that I feel within me. This, and do I even dare to say, is as if all my desires have been answered. Yet, though, "How do you wish me to do this? Should I return each time they find their night, or am I to remain?"

He only but steps two steps closer to me while I gulp the rest of my whiskey down, "You do not return until you have found him. I shall, in turn, try to find from the rest that he ran with what his plan is." Father shoves another glass of whiskey in my hands before he carries on, "You will have to live like a human. So, for fuck sake, do not sit awake the whole night on some bench. You will draw attention to yourself."

I can not help but burst out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, "Do I look like the bench type, father?"

"No, son, I am only stating that you should try and live like one of them. Study them closely, and you will soon learn what it is what they do. I am expecting our little demon to create havoc..."

I do not even let father speak any further, "Deaths, soulless, dead people."

"Yes," He nods his head, and, strangely, he is in a way feeling sorry for these humans. We welcome death, but most of all, we welcome the souls that come with death. "Once you have found him, then I shall send for the demon army. He shall pay severely for his actions and betrayal toward me." I watch as the wickedness return back to his face as he says this. "Now, go, Damien. I am sure you will find how to live like a human."

With that, I sip the last of my whiskey, and with a very sneaky smile on my face, take the keys to the gate from him.

But he does not know that I have my own.

Now I would love to say that I am packing my bag and going on an adventure.

That is so far from reality.

A demon is one awful mean creature. I have always wondered why my father created them, but as he says, it scares the living hell into the humans that find their residence here. Now, if living in a loophole is not enough, you have some ugly creature standing at your door. Like a true monster in the closet.

Though, let me explain this to you first. Down in hell, a demon is a creature that possesses no face, no noticeable feet or hands; it is a thing that hovers like an ominous black cloud over your shoulder. But, you put a demon on earth, well, there will be no way that you could see the difference. He shall, however, need to fill his craving for flesh. Why father made them that way, I always thought he was having a wicked bad day. As for the soul part, well, that is their main part. They are created to take and leave nothing.

So, finding him, for me, will not be impossible, for I will know what deaths I shall be looking out for. Therefore I am counting on having him back home soon, and yes, that part he might not survive.

It is with the excitement pumping that heat through my veins, and perhaps a dash of cologne and dressed in my best; I am standing in the very spot where I shall start my search from. Yet, I know that this is oddly familiar. If I walk just but two blocks down this main road, I shall find that park where I was captivated by that beauty. Now there is no shit that my father and let us clear this up as well, but his brother, not one of them, are sitting and watching over the humans. They are both doing their own thing.

Which means...

I am going for a detour.

Not feeling the least bit guilty at all, I make the stroll through the hum-bum of the city to find that very bench, and yes, I will study them. After all, that is what he told me. It will just be in the same place where my eyes fell on that beauty. So as I find that very park with that very bench, I grab a newspaper, of course, now being the fucking devil's son, I am actually stealing it. But regardless, I have a paper in hand, skipping that shit called coffee, and I go sit on my bench.

As I look in the same direction where I last saw her....there is nothing.

My heart turns black and grey, and I feel something odd. Pushing this feeling to the back of my mind, I start reading my stolen paper. My aim...looking for someone that died quite unusual. So as I scan the pages, there is nothing that is truly standing out. The other problem that I might experience is the authorities might want to keep it out of the paper, which will make my work even more damn hard.

So I fold the paper and neatly on my lap, for I have now gotten a spout of guilt, and I shall be returning it; I watch the people just taking the beautiful sunshine day in and living happy lives. It is strange what people see as what their happiness is. For me, it is watching every asshole down there get tortured the way that he should be. As for here, this is what makes them happy, a single thing from nature. Well, if we created nature, I don't think these humans will be so happy anymore.

But regardless, I am watching them as my father said, and I am starting to feel a bit sick. These humans are too happy. It is not even natural to look so happy about a butterfly that is flying about in the wind. Now, if that were me, I would be killing it and pulling its wings apart.

Now, do not even let me get started on the couples who seem to have an endless need to take pictures of each other. The hugs. The kisses. It is like they are trying to merge into one. Hey, one body, two souls... But there should be a limit to being affectionate. This is rather hard on the eye. Why not just sit next to each other... There is no way that you shall see two demons having all this...contact...with each other. Yes, of course, my father, as with me, we both do have sex in the normal way, but there is no need word that ungodly thing called cuddle.

But I am yet to learn what they do as I would stick out like a rose in hell.

Rose...that is the next thing that I smell. I remember entering the part and passing lushes bushes on the side. Yet, this is not rose; this is lily. It is a soft pink rose with delicate hints of lily, and if you smell the scent even deeper, there are speckles of vanilla. I have by far never, and I have lived for a large number of forevers; I have never smelled anything so intoxicating before. My senses feel as it has been seduced, and I am drawing all the pleasure from it.

But I am wrong.

I have smelled this scent before.

So as I scan the park from side to side, then my eyes catch a glint of her. The same beauty that only but captured me hours ago has finds her way back into the same park.

But that is not my problem.

She is on her way; she is headed right to me. I hope for all living souls that she just passes by. But what am I thinking? Why would she even want to come near me, let alone talk to me? Why would she even, and this is wishful thinking, but why would she even dare to come to sit next to me? What is this feeling? Why am I feeling myself to be so excited, but let us not stop there? She is making me feel that burning in my veins when my body craves something.

While all these million things are racing through a goddamn devil's mind, I can see her coming closer and closer. My eyes do not leave her curves that move elegantly with each step that she takes. Her long brown hair is blowing effortlessly in the wind. She is floating on air, and fuck, she is floating on it with a beautiful purpose.

Then...

"Do you mind if I share this bench with you?"

What do I say?

"I- I-" Yes, I have lost all ability to speak. When I finally get my body to work with my head, I look into those deep brown eyes that have specks of green hiding inside, "Of course you may."

With my best effort, I try not to stare as she sits down next to me, but yet I have been given away, "You do know that it is rude to stare?"

"Miss, from where I come from, it is not rude to stare at all."

She only but chuckles, and I can with all certainty say that it sounds even better than heavenly. Yes, I have been on my own occasion where I also should not be. But that is not the point. How can they say that the creatures in heaven and perfect when I have one that is sitting here right next to me.

So, "Are you sure that you are not from heaven?"

Well, I think I have said some rather dumb things in my life, but this one might be the end of it. She only stares at me from underneath the thickest black eyelashes that I have probably seen and softly whispers, "Then you must be from hell because you are devilishly handsome."

I clearly almost topple over and fall flat on my face as the words escape those deep cherry lips. I can almost imagine what they would feel like if I just run my thumb over them. Her lipgloss makes them glitter in the afternoon sun, and every time she parts them, I swear that my veins vibrate. She is...let us not take out minds there.

But. "You are staring again. Mr?"

"Damien," my raspy voice comes out as a seductive rumble while I allow each syllable to stretch from my lips. Then I reach for her hand, and my heart completely combusts, but she does not take it.

Hiding my best effort of disappointment, she remains, her eyes focus on mine. "Mirabelle