Newtmas & Dylmas One-Shots

His Angel was the Devil (Dylmas #17)

I know that I promised no more supernaturals for a while but clearly I lied because this is one of those. And the next one will also be supernatural. But I do have other ideas planned that aren't so if you don't like supernaturals then relax, eventually my phase will go away with this. Warning for this chapter: Suicide is spoken about in a very negative manner that does not reflect my own opinion. It is simply for the story.

Hell is always seen as such a negative place. The place where you go when you've managed to screw up so badly in your real life that you deserved to end up there. You weren't worthy of heaven, the place everyone desired to reach but ultimately failed. Hell was a place where demons lurked around in the shadows behind the fiery flames that exuded warmth and light in the underworld, and hell was the place that everyone wanted to run away from.

Except Thomas. He never thought of it as such a horrid place.

It was always spoken about in such bad terms that people begun to believe that it really was the worst place you could end up after dying, but the blonde thought that it was only a myth. The fire brought warmth, the constricting stone brought comfort, and the flames also provided light. It was perfect for a dark angel like him.

Now, Thomas was considered to be a type of demon, however if you really were to brand him, then he'd be an angel of darkness. Black wings spread out from his back that were almost the size of himself, the feathers as dark as coal, bringing out his pale complexion and hair. He really liked his wings, it was one of his proudest features, even if one of them was partly defect.

That's what happens when you commit suicide.

Not only was his suicide his reason for ending up in hell, but it was also his reason for his left wing being broken. Suicide was seen as something cowardly and selfish, as everyone failed to grasp how it really worked, and that it wasn't actually an act of weakness. It took a lot of strength to take your own life, and Thomas knew that having gone through with it.

But just because he knew it, didn't mean that others did. And when he'd jumped off a twenty story building on his own accord, he was deemed unworthy of being an angel in heaven, and was sent straight down to hell, his wings quickly darkening from the white they had been. His left wing was torn to shreds as punishment for what he did, making it difficult for him to fly as well as difficult to walk on his left leg that had been badly crushed when he collided with the ground.

It was all his fault, and heaven wanted him to know that. Yea, it was safe to say that he thought hell was a lot more polite. At least here, the demons and devils didn't think suicide was twisted and sick, although a few did mock it.

Thomas sometimes wished he could have two whole wings, not one where the feathers were torn away partly, but he smiled a bit whenever he realized that it made him one of a kind, unique. He liked that, and if he had the choice between restoring his wings or keeping them the way they were, he wasn't so sure he'd restore them.

Now, a popular misconception was that creatures from hell could not fall in love, and if they did, it was only between each other. However, you never really knew when two from hell had a crush on each other, only because everything was kept so hidden from the surface that it went past everyone. It simply wasn't an important matter, unlike how it was for angels in heaven.

Thomas always laughed at how they thought. If an angel had a soulmate back on earth, they became their guardian until they passed, and if they hadn't had one before death, they'd find one somewhere up there. The blonde always shook his head at the silliness, having given up on love a long time ago. Granted, he had died at only the tender age of seventeen, but even then had he decided that it was unnecessary, and love made people do selfish things.