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It’s not that I don’t know how to talk to people or that I dislike people... well, I do dislike a lot of people. It’s just that something has always felt off. Like I don’t belong.
It’s not that I think I’m better than most people, I just know there’s more to my life than a white picket fence and some stale American dream. I’m not sure what my destiny is, but I know it’s got to be more than this.
Jennifer Iglesias liked this
While my purpose in life hasn’t been given to me by some burning bush or written out for me in the stars, I know that I have one.
As I look over at my innocent and endearing sister, I know that it’s my job to take care of her and protect her from the evil in this world, even if it darkens my soul further.
Was I so blinded by a decent dick that I didn’t see the warning signs?
Maybe this was the more that I always thought I was capable of. This is my purpose, ridding the world of evil men who think they are above others.
And maybe death wasn’t an appropriate punishment for Professor Montague. But it doesn’t matter when I think about how good it felt.
It’s not exactly the best place to carry out a murder.
It appears that I’ve gotten really patient lately, and I’m proud of myself for developing this new trait. Then there’s the whole new-taste-for-murder, but right now, we’re just thinking about the positives.
Another man meets his maker at the hands of a vengeful woman. It’s so poetic and perfect that I can’t stop grinning, knowing that Tyler won’t be the last.
But the fact of the matter is that I need as many demons as possible right now. Heaven, as always, is looking for a reason to start shit.
It’s just gotten so mundane. I nearly wish the angels would start a war with me just to switch up the routine.
The dead who prove their worth to me in Hell are the ones that I bestow the blessing of becoming a demon.
I’m sure it’s confusing since I made the admittance area stark white. I get a little thrill when people think they’ve made it to Heaven and not Hell.
The power trip I’m spiraling down is steep. I know my ego is huge, and this vigilante shit can only end with me dying or behind bars. But fuck, if the thrill isn’t worth it.
I brought my blade with me; obviously, I’ve become codependent on the bloodthirsty piece of metal.
The last thing I hear before I go is a deep voice. A voice that would probably make others tremble, but it fills me with warmth. “It’s alright, love. You’re coming home now.”
“It’s alright, love. You’re coming home now,” I tell her as her mortal life ends and our forever begins. Again.
“I’m in Hell, and you’re what?” she scoffs. “The Devil?” I keep my eyes fixated on hers. “I believe that’s one of the terms mortals use for me. I’d prefer for you to call me Lucifer, however.” Or sir, or any number of delicious things.
“Listen, having angel siblings sucks ass. I would not recommend it. If you thought they were little goody two-shoes on earth, they only act like bigger assholes once they get to Heaven.”
I wonder if there are therapists in Hell, maybe that’s something I should seek out.
“Listen, if you’re going to survive in Hell, you’re going to need to learn how to take a joke and deal with criticism. That’s lesson number one.”
“Don’t mind them, I like to call them the cunt gang.”
“You’re in Hell—which I happen to be the king of. When I want something, I have it. When I need something done, I have one of my demons do it. This realm is under my command, and you will do as you’re told.”
She grins against my hold on her, a shit-eating grin that makes me want to spank her ass and show her who’s in charge.
If anything, she wants nothing to do with me, and it makes me crave her even more.
He frustrates me, and I’m not sure what it is, but every time he’s around me, I want to get under his skin and annoy him.
Because coming to terms with the fact that I find the fucking Devil to be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen is just not going to happen. I mean, does he have to be six-foot-nine and have thick, dark brown hair with eyes so dark they nearly look black?
I am a little disappointed that no stabbing or other demon way of killing is going to be happening tonight.
“I can taste lies. And yours taste so fucking sweet.”
“Eyes are up here, love,” he teases, and I swallow. I’m not going to look at Satan’s dick. I’m not going to look at Satan’s dick.
As big as his body is, he would probably be able to wrap it around me like I was nothing.
we will always be sisters, even if we’re realms apart.
If I’m so fucking horrible, the villain, a monster? Then it’s about time I started acting like it.
“You know I can taste lies, little Hellfire. Yours are so fucking sweet, like sugar-coated strawberries.”
“Still hate me, love?” He slides two fingers inside of me, curling them upwards. I can hear how wet I am. It’s both a huge turn-on and completely betraying everything I’m saying. “Yes,”
“You might hate me, but this wet pussy sure as fuck loves being wrapped around my fingers.”
“Only I can give you this, and you know it. You want to come, you want to dance. You come to me.”
“Know that if I see you with another demon, you’re condemning them to death, Lilith. I don’t fucking share, and you belong to me whether you want to admit it or not.”
“That’s it, there’s my good girl,” he praises against my hair
Maybe being on the ‘bad’ side of the afterlife has its perks.
Now that I know making her come is one way to get her to shut her mouth and listen, I plan on doing it often.
But the way she fucking crumbled under my touch when I told her that she belonged to me, that she was mine, made this unmeasurable amount of joy bloom inside of me.
“You can’t just finger fuck a girl in a hallway and then not say anything. It’s rude.”
“I’m not good, but I wouldn’t say I’m evil either. Do I do as I please and step outside of what mortals and Heaven consider morally just? Sure. Am I the ruler of Hell? Yes. But as the ruler, my job is not only to manage the dead who come here but to ensure punishment for the most evil. I don’t condone certain behaviors because no one should. My soul is a deep shade of gray, and I’m okay with that.”
I am a patient man, but the idea of Lilith never being mine makes me sick.
A merely semi-significant amount of mortal time later…
“Let’s go do something fun. I heard there’s an extra handsy frat boy at the local campus. I know they’re your favorite.” Catching the drift that this conversation is over, I nod my head before we finish our coffee, letting the distraction of killing boys shield us from the bullshit we refuse to work through.
While killing frat boys is always a blast, it just didn’t hit the spot.
