A Demon's Past

Chapter 20

Light was disorienting, especially at night.

Andras had susceptible eyes, so he avoided looking out the window of his cars as the thousands of lights made him dizzy. Constantly moving, existing, disrupting the perfect peace darkness brought.

That night he stared at the window, nonetheless. Thinking about the moment that boy saw them and he couldn't help but offer him an evil smile. He quite enjoyed it; it pleased him, and he was fond of pleasure.

The second Arella noticed they had company she dashed out the door without saying goodbye and dragged the fuming boy back to her apartment. He couldn't enjoy the anger on the nosy creature's face without noticing she was taking him into her home.

That disturbed him. The way light disturbed darkness. The way water disturbed fire.

But that boy wasn't light, he wasn't anything at all really. He was a waste of life that should have been dead for ruining what could have been.

Andras could easily kill the human boy, he was aware of who he was and where he lived. He could send legions of demons to finish him off and then drag his soul to hell, but even eternal punishment would not be enough for having offended him.

He was trying his best to keep his composure, reminding himself he needed to avoid doing something that might emotionally or physically hurt the girl.

And then he started wondering if he was wrong about leaving. Was she safe with that boy?

He left because had he stayed a second longer, he would have ripped that boy to shreds with his bare hands and despite her apparent anger toward the boy, Arella seemed to be fond of him.

He pushed away what that made him feel because feelings were useless, especially if she wasn't safe.

He was about to turn around when his brain caught up to his instincts, this could go very wrong.

Why?

Because as much as he hated to admit it something was happening to him, he was losing control, he was feeling again and that made him very dangerous. His impulsivity was the reason he fell, and it was mostly fueled by his emotions.

So, he stopped feeling and adapted to life by meticulously planning every second of it. There was never an outcome he didn't consider or something he did not expect.

All living things follow patterns and if you learn them you can learn to control life by predicting it. So, he did, he used his considerable intelligence to control everything and everyone around him, and that only worked because he didn't feel.

But now he was feeling. He was feeling dread at the thought of something happening to her. He was feeling anger and jealousy toward the boy because he left with her.

It all came down to her. And when it came to her, he couldn't think straight.

So, despite feeling physically ill by not going to her and protecting her from harm, he picked up the phone, "I need your help," he said as he tried to summon his usual demanding voice, but that voice didn't match what he had just said.

He couldn't remember the last time he said something so pathetic.

"Are you okay?" Violette seemed to pick up on his strange choice of words.

He didn't even care about his pride anymore, fuck his plan, fuck it all if she wasn't whole and safe. "I need you to go to Arella's building and make sure she is okay,"

"Okay," she said but then asked, "Why?"

Violette wasn't asking why she needed to go see if Arella was okay, she knew she would find out soon enough and, she also knew that wasn't important.

What she was asking was 'Why can't you go?'

He didn't know how to explain it, he didn't even think it through before he said, "It's not safe - I'm not safe," his ears started to ring and he knew he would lose consciousness if he didn't get himself together "I don't want to ruin it all," he gritted and hung up.

He didn't know what he was saying or what he meant by his words.

Was it that I'm not safe for her?

Was it that I'm not safe from her?

Perhaps a little bit of both, he realized as he conveyed away from his car and onto the roof of his building.

He felt it then, the pain, the fire. It was surrounding him as he lost control.

Angels were created for one purpose and one purpose only. To serve.

Angels had free will before humans did, and still, they served because they chose to. Because they knew nothing else. And the moment some learned there was more, they were cast down.

Turns out angels were as powerful as humans were lucky. Because despite their power and authority, there was no forgiveness for the fallen. Just as there was no mercy for the damned.

And that is what he was, damned.

Condemned to a life of suffering, pain, and regret. Condemned to struggle with a power so big and volatile that made him lose all reason.

Damned because even though he was an angel, he wasn't good. He was tainted by sin. He was a being of good that couldn't be because the flames of discord had touched him.

Damned because, for him, there was no salvation. And damned because he didn't care as long as he could save her. Because for Andras, all that mattered was her.

And he would gladly go to hell and back for her. 

Because he already has.