His Butler, Beloved {KuroWattyAwards 2014}

His Butler Beloved: Preface

"In exchange for your soul," said the bloody serpent as it coiled its foreboding form tighter around the scorched and blackened branch, "I shall offer you my service and slay your enemies until your heart is unable to go on any longer."

"I accept! I wish not to give into such a feeble death; they must perish a death far greater than I!" shouted the nude fourteen-year old as he glared at the red serpent with his deep brown eyes, unmoving from his standing position within the charred and dying field of grass.

Raising its head, the reptilian creature smirked vilely. "Very well," it hissed, its deep voice echoing throughout the morbid plain, "from this day forth . . . you may call me your slave; your lapdog. My human name is simply: Jasper Airaghi."

Subtly nodding to the serpent, the boy's dark brown eyes witnessed as a bolt of lightning struck the tree, causing the snake to disperse and morph into a man of six feet in height, his silver hair long and almost stretching to the backs of his narrow, charcoal-pant covered legs. As the man's proximity lessened between the lad and he, he'd noticed the odd coloration of the man's eyes: like rubies glistening in the faint moonlight on a starless night.

Placing his white-gloved hand over his left breast, he bowed. "Do with my abilities what you wish, my lord," he said, his position still firmly and respectfully held intact, "fore I am at your disposal until you have exacted your revenge against those who have dealt thee a foul hand."

The boy scoffed at the tail-coat clad man before closing his eyes and interlacing his arms over his chest. "You shall receive my soul only after I am rid of those imbecilic bastards," he said, his tone stern, "is that understood?"

Chuckling, the man blinked his crimson eyes shut for a moment and . . . when he opened them . . . they no longer held that bloody color, rather a glowing fuchsia with various moving flecks of dull pink. "I am a demon," he said, "once a contract has been put into play between a man and a demon . . . it's permanent until the request has been properly met and the pests exterminated. You have my word that your decadent soul shall not be devoured until such a time."

As the words had left his wide, thin lips, the dark, starless skies around the two flashed a blinding shade of white and everything molded back into the daytime . . . back on Earth.

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