Devilish Detective ✅

Is She A Nephilim?

Chapter Twenty-One

Interlude: Is She a Nephilim?

Sam’s POV

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His life was going well despite the obvious bad event that occurred eons ago. All the riches the world had to offer, he had at his fingertips. Humans were puppets for his own amusement and he loved pulling the strings and watching the chaos that followed. It was always a well-planned domino effect that he enjoyed sitting back and being a silent spectator.

Yes, he was having a good time.

That fateful day, he was sat amongst people he didn’t necessarily care about. He was trying to take a break from his duties and the horrors of Hell, so we went for a drink with a mayor of… He didn’t bother himself with specifics. All he knew was that he was hanging out with the supposed elites.

They all drank and laughed as he entertained them with tales. They were happy, and he couldn’t blame them. He considered himself an amazing entertainer and the best company to have. He couldn’t say he was having fun though, mostly because he wasn’t. His companions weren’t as pleasurable as he was.

If he were human, he would have yawned. He scanned the lavish room for something that was worth his time and a small smile almost made it to his lips when he caught sight of the guitar that lay idly on the large black couch.

With grace that was otherworldly, he got up from where he was sat, walked around the centrepiece and to the couch where he picked up the instrument. His companions watched him and they marvelled at how fluid his movement was, it almost looked as though he was floating.

He sat atop the table, though he wrinkled his nose slightly as he wasn’t particularly fond of the dark colours that surrounded him. He didn’t complain though. He took a deep breath he didn’t really need to. It was all for dramatic effect and he loved to be dramatic. He loved the attention he was getting from everyone in the room.

He plucked the strings of the guitar. His movements were gracious and his companions thought the sounds he made were heavenly. They quickly discarded their drinks and their documents to gather around him, though not too close as they knew he wasn’t fond of physical contact. He loved the look they gave him; admiration, respect, envy. He loved knowing he held the power in the room as his song was like a siren’s call and they were susceptible to suggestions.

When he was done with the piece, the people cheered and offered their praises which he ignored. He was already bored out of his mind. He ditched the guitar and exited the room, not heeding the calls of his companions. He walked into the garden that was at the back of the large building and ran his fingers through the flowers and hedges.

He got to the large swimming pool and took in his reflection which was different almost every day. That particular day, he was tall, probably six feet and five inches. He was well built and bronze skinned with contrasting silver hair and very golden eyes. In human age, he appeared to be in his late thirties. A very handsome man as he had heard people whisper to themselves.

“Why are you following me?” He suddenly spoke up, though to the human eyes, there was no one around him. His voice was husky and lacked emotions, but at the same time, it was almost seductive and pleasing to the ears.

A figure suddenly appeared from the shadows. A figure that cast no reflection on the surface of the pool. It stood at an awkward angle that looked like all the bones in its body had been broken, then healed in the wrong position. It was a monstrosity.

It walked up to the man and bent awkwardly at what resembled a very painful bow that the man didn’t regard. It didn’t even turn to face it. He didn’t have to and it knew. It raised its head and offered its message.