kitchen, I headed for bed. I crossed to the couch, switching off the lights. I lay down and rolled over to face the kitchen, closing my eyes.
I can't believe I found someone to be my friend after searching all these years for someone who wouldn't go running at the sight of me. Actually, I can't believe God slipped up and let this woman cross my path. It's been so long... And God was so annoyed with us all, especially Sera, Aspen, Azazel and me for beating the crap out of Her...What could She be planning?
My thoughts turned dark as the light behind my eyelids turned them a rich dark red, the color of the light shining through my skin.
But what if she doesn't want to know me? What if she learns the truth of the Fall and blames me for Sera's death? What if she hates me? I need a friend so badly now.
I could feel a tear falling down along my nose.
She should hate me. I got Sera killed, and my daughter smashed among the trees, at the mercy of the Earth. But how could I have saved her? God had me chosen as a victim even before I went up to Seventh Heaven. I could be like Beelzebub, throwing party after party, hosting a whole nightclub, for a distraction from the monotony of eternal life. I could be like Azazel, a drunkard seeking respite from his own private torture in the bottom of a dozen different bottles, at the same time. Could I still gain a friend through this?
Would she still wish to be my friend in the morning?
Six
Clarissa Avario
I woke up as the sun rose, as I usually did. For a second I was disorientated, looking around the room. It wasn't my room, but it was familiar. The light blue walls made the room seem cool but spacious, and the matching quilt was half off the bed, as my blankets usually were when I woke up, regardless of how tightly I tucked them in the night before.
I lay still, thinking and breathing in an unfamiliar scent as my memory fought to come up with an explanation for me being there. Did I have another one-night stand last night? I asked myself, examining my head. There was a dull ache, but not enough to let me know that I'd gotten smashed last night.
I normally didn't drink so much that I slept for a whole day afterwards. I knew I had, I remembered the setting sun, from this window. So why couldn't I remember anything else of the last couple of days? Since running into the Hellraisers as I walked home from work again, them catching me...
The image of a red-skinned man sitting on the end of the bed flashed behind my eyelids. I groaned.
Why is it always me? I rolled over and felt something stretch in my stomach. It'd only figure that if I met the King of Hell himself the rest of the nightmare would be painfully real.
I sat up cautiously, feeling the ache restart in my muscles and thud to a crescendo in my bladder. I groaned again, throwing the last of the quilt off the bed, and put my feet on the floor. My head spun slightly, but I was able to stand up slowly. The stitches in my stomach pulled with every step, but the pain in my bladder was stronger—I moved as quickly as I could to the bathroom.
I emerged from the bathroom using the wall to keep me upright and headed out to the living room. I stopped at the doorway, watching Lucifer carefully for any sign that he was awake. He was frowning slightly, and I was surprised to watch a tear roll down his nose, glinting in the dawn light from the kitchen window.
I didn't know the Devil could cry, I thought with pity and wonder, staring at the tear. I stood in the doorway for a while, observing Lucifer slowly relax into sleep. His face softened, though the frown never really left it.
When I was sure Lucifer was asleep, I crept past him, heading for the kitchen. He didn't stir as I put the kettle on, searching the cupboards for a mug and the coffee—I was dying
I can't believe I found someone to be my friend after searching all these years for someone who wouldn't go running at the sight of me. Actually, I can't believe God slipped up and let this woman cross my path. It's been so long... And God was so annoyed with us all, especially Sera, Aspen, Azazel and me for beating the crap out of Her...What could She be planning?
My thoughts turned dark as the light behind my eyelids turned them a rich dark red, the color of the light shining through my skin.
But what if she doesn't want to know me? What if she learns the truth of the Fall and blames me for Sera's death? What if she hates me? I need a friend so badly now.
I could feel a tear falling down along my nose.
She should hate me. I got Sera killed, and my daughter smashed among the trees, at the mercy of the Earth. But how could I have saved her? God had me chosen as a victim even before I went up to Seventh Heaven. I could be like Beelzebub, throwing party after party, hosting a whole nightclub, for a distraction from the monotony of eternal life. I could be like Azazel, a drunkard seeking respite from his own private torture in the bottom of a dozen different bottles, at the same time. Could I still gain a friend through this?
Would she still wish to be my friend in the morning?
Six
Clarissa Avario
I woke up as the sun rose, as I usually did. For a second I was disorientated, looking around the room. It wasn't my room, but it was familiar. The light blue walls made the room seem cool but spacious, and the matching quilt was half off the bed, as my blankets usually were when I woke up, regardless of how tightly I tucked them in the night before.
I lay still, thinking and breathing in an unfamiliar scent as my memory fought to come up with an explanation for me being there. Did I have another one-night stand last night? I asked myself, examining my head. There was a dull ache, but not enough to let me know that I'd gotten smashed last night.
I normally didn't drink so much that I slept for a whole day afterwards. I knew I had, I remembered the setting sun, from this window. So why couldn't I remember anything else of the last couple of days? Since running into the Hellraisers as I walked home from work again, them catching me...
The image of a red-skinned man sitting on the end of the bed flashed behind my eyelids. I groaned.
Why is it always me? I rolled over and felt something stretch in my stomach. It'd only figure that if I met the King of Hell himself the rest of the nightmare would be painfully real.
I sat up cautiously, feeling the ache restart in my muscles and thud to a crescendo in my bladder. I groaned again, throwing the last of the quilt off the bed, and put my feet on the floor. My head spun slightly, but I was able to stand up slowly. The stitches in my stomach pulled with every step, but the pain in my bladder was stronger—I moved as quickly as I could to the bathroom.
I emerged from the bathroom using the wall to keep me upright and headed out to the living room. I stopped at the doorway, watching Lucifer carefully for any sign that he was awake. He was frowning slightly, and I was surprised to watch a tear roll down his nose, glinting in the dawn light from the kitchen window.
I didn't know the Devil could cry, I thought with pity and wonder, staring at the tear. I stood in the doorway for a while, observing Lucifer slowly relax into sleep. His face softened, though the frown never really left it.
When I was sure Lucifer was asleep, I crept past him, heading for the kitchen. He didn't stir as I put the kettle on, searching the cupboards for a mug and the coffee—I was dying
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