Down Goes The Devil

Chapter 16

Author's note: Again, sorry for the late updates. I would also like to add a trigger warning to this chapter: s**cide. If you're sensitive about this topic, please do not read this chapter. You can move on to the next chapter as I will be introducing a whole new character and a different part of Ethan's plan (this chapter won't be related to the next one).

As Ethan ensured his plan was almost coming to an end, he went back to the café.

"Relax, it'll be okay." Chris' legs were shaking and he was restless, however, he tried to seem composed, which was quite the fruitless attempt. "They'll be here soon."

"I know, I'm trying. It's just-" he paused, as his fingers were trailing the edge of the table, trying to keep his mind off what's about to come. "I can barely control my anxiety. I don't want to bring the mood down, but-" he paused again

"You're not bringing the mood down, talking it out is the only way to overcome it. I really enjoy your company, Chris, please, don't feel the need to hide anything from me." He reassured him.

"My anxiety is something I cannot control. If I'm anticipating something, be it a major event or a minor occurrence, my heart starts racing at a speed that breaks the sound barrier." He giggled, finding his own joke amusing, although Fred was so engrossed in his colleague's complaints that he kept a straight face, not wanting to make him feel as if his troubles were frivolous. "It has consumed me so much over the past few years that it has become the norm for me. I feel hollow, Fred. It's like a black hole that keeps on expanding and consuming everything within its reach. I feel numb, but restless at the same time. I know I'm blathering on and on, I don't expect you to give me advice, or even understand what I'm saying. I'm not expecting neither empathy nor sympathy, but-"

"Chris, I feel happy you've finally gotten that burden off your shoulder. Although you are not expecting me to be empathetic, I assure you that I am. Do you remember the time I broke up with Katrina, back in college?" Chris nodded, and Ethan tilted his head in confusion. "Well, I've gone through hell afterwards. We may have not gone through the same events, or faced the same troubles, but I assure you I know what you're talking about. After we broke up, we've been on and off for a whole year. She kept toying with me, convincing me that I was faulty at the time when I was trying my best to be the perfect lover, as banal as that sounds."

"It's not banal." Chris kept his eyes on his friend, eyeing his every move, focusing on his body language to respond to him perfectly.

"It kind of is, but that's not the point" he chuckled. "I've been feeling guilty for a long time. My heart was aching, and the pain was so intense that I could physically feel it, no kidding. I spent a year indulging in self-destructive behavior. I've taken drugs, consumed barrels of alcohol, trying to numb myself. I didn't want to feel pain. I hated it. My body could not bear the sorrow, and I've got no tears left to cry. I was just feeling plain torment. It may be a tenuous experience compared to what you've been battling with for years, but the point is, I get you, and I want to help you as best as I can."

"Thank you, Fred. I'm not just saying this to be courteous, but I feel less lonely now." He sighed. "For years, I haven't felt a sense of belonging to this world. Being alive has only brought me pain and agony. I feel like I'm being crucified for every wrongdoing I have ever committed. Sometimes, my mind starts playing games and makes me feel as if I deserve this, as if this is payback from the universe for what I have done. But then, I look at the people around me. They're all sinners, and yet, they're thriving, which is contradictory to what I'm feeling. I just want time to stop, I want to take a breather from all the pressure. I want to feel alive."

Upon hearing Chris, Ethan remembered Lucifer's words. "Try to analyze these people that you're trying to destroy. Doesn't looking at them feel like looking at a mirror?". That asshole could be right, but I am the devil now. I'm no longer as weak as I used to be.

"I know. This is a new start for you. Make the best out of- Oh, look who's here!" Chris turned around to find Jessica and Aaron walking inside. He didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but they shot him a glare as they walked towards their table. The two of them did not bother to greet him, grabbed two chairs and sat at the table.

"So, Chris, go ahead." Fred asked him gently.

"A-Alright." Chris kept his eyes on his fingers as he kept trailing his fingers around its corner, not able to meet their eyes. "I-I just... I wanted to... I want to apologize." He stopped for a few seconds trying to verbalize the tornado of thoughts swirling through his head. "I have been...Well... I've been an asshole. To both of you." He raised his head to meet Jessica's intimidating gaze. "Jessica, I'm sorry I haven't been the perfect..." His voice quivered. "The perfect boyfriend. I have no excuses. I know I have been terrible. Horrendous. I am not expecting you to forgive me, you've been nice to me all the time and I messed it up." He turned his gaze to Aaron. "Aaron, you're an amazing person as well. I was not tolerant, I was pretty square back at the time. And again, that is no excuse for me to have treated you the way I did. Both of you are amazing people. I am not expecting you to accept my apology, but I just wanted to lift this heaviness of my chest. I-I wish you the best in life, no matter what."

Jessica and Aaron looked at each other dumbfounded. Their hearts softened for a hot minute, however, Ethan had other plans. Do not accept his apology. Humiliate him. Destroy the boy. The devil's murmurs were slowly penetrating Jessica's and Aaron's train of thoughts, however, they still fell silent for a few seconds. Ethan grew vexed as he felt his power weakening. Do it, now.

"Chris." As Jessica started speaking, Ethan saw a beam of delicacy in her eyes, and a softened tone of voice, which annoyed him to no end. "HUMILIATE HIM, YOU MEASEL HUMANS" Ethan yelled.

"I do not accept your apology." She finally spoke.

"Me neither." Aaron followed suit.

"I understand." Chris replied melancholically.

"You've been a horrible, homophobic, abusive, and so on. The list is way too long but I just pointed out the main atrocities you committed against us." Aaron was determined to continue. "We do not accept your apology."

"Guys..." Fred avoided looking at Chris, as he felt blameworthy for inviting them.

"I understand." Chris grabbed his phone and placed it in his pocket. "I think I should take my leave, I wish you the best in life." As he stood, he took a final glace at Jessica's and Aaron's expressions, but they looked stern and determined, which wounded him badly, then he left them with Fred, unable to look back, holding back a mournful cry, feeling irremediable sorrow wash over him entirely, from head to toe.

"That was...harsh. I shouldn't have said that." Jessica admitted.

"Me neither, I feel horrible." Ethan was astonished by their admittances, as per usual, the devil's whispers worked like magic. This was the first time he couldn't leave a long-lasting impression on his targets. Curse Lucifer. He felt as if he shouldn't have gone to hell last time. Lucifer's words were resonating in his ears like white noise. Or maybe was it Gabriel's prophecy? Curse him too. For the first time on his mission, although he has achieved his goal, he felt quite dissatisfied.

He closed his eyes and found himself in Chris' room. The man was weeping and breaking everything around him. Had his mother been home, she would've tried to urge him to snap out of it. He wished she were home. Although he hasn't been the best son she could ask for, her presence was comforting. He kept thinking about his mother, picturing her face. Each wrinkle on her face painted a past that she kept locked in her heart. Her quivering lips as she talked tenderly to her son, trying as hard as she can not to say the wrong thing, knowing that he was hypersensitive. Her wistful eyes, glistening with merriness everytime she looks at him, tainted with a tinge of woe as she has gone through the wringer trying to get him back on his feet. Her soft hands by which she carried him to his bed as he was a little boy, ignorant of the harsh world that awaited him. Her gray hair telling a story that only him knew, word by word, as he watched her grow old by the second, which pained him deeply. As he pictured these images one last time, he grabbed a shard of the bottle of wine he just shattered, and slit his wrist, and at that moment, Ethan left, feeling half triumphant, half uneasy.