Kissed By The Devil

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                      »In your hands, in your decisions, lies your destiny

                                                    Pan's Labyrinth

Loud, piercing sound of shattering glass echoed through the darkness that had just now filled the room. A light bulb had exploded and the scent of burnt plastic teased my nostrils. I opened the nearest window and a cold breeze brushed against my still wet skin, causing the bath-soaked curls to stick to my cheeks.

With the corner of my eye I noticed a lingering shadow at my blue dresser. Fear creeped up my spine, ghosting beneath my flesh like an uninvited parasite.

Weak light of car headlights from the street stripped the shadow of its presumptuous black masquerade, and revealed a lone figure. A man.

Suddenly, the towel I was wrapped in seemed too short. A normal person would have run or at least scream for help, but not me. I was petrified and no sound dared to escape my lips. Somehow I managed to place my hand on the table and my fingers curled around the first thing I could find; a large bottle of extra absorbent body lotion.

I was seventeen, covered only with a towel, and I was armed with a skin care product. Slowly, I muttered the words: "Oh my god..."

The stranger answered with a cackle, and at a slow pace stepped into the dusky light. "Wrong," he said with a soft, yet manly voice. "I am the Devil."

Terrified as I was, I quickly noticed our similarity in age. It was too dark to distinguish the colour of his hair, but his luminous eyes shone in bright red shades of scorching fire. Fire that devoured blood of innocents. But it was not just their colour, it was also the way he looked at me; as if he knew all my thoughts, all my dark secrets. Like he knew the words that are going to come out of my mouth, even before I did. He stood with an ego of a king.

"W...Who..." I trembled, feeling the panic and adrenalin mixing in my veins like intoxicating poison.

"The Devil. Satan. Lucifer. Or however you children choose to name me nowadays," smirked the boy with red eyes and stepped even closer, shortening the tense distance between us.

I tightened my grip around the plastic bottle, digging at the label, which sticky edges were already peeling off. Sharp corners of it were jabbing at the soft tissue beneath my nails, but the stiffness in the air overpowered that pain. For a moment, I felt completely disoriented. "Who..." No more than a whisper would leave my mouth.

"Do you believe in the Devil?" He spoke softly with lips to break your heart.

Because of my knowledge of what he was, I perceived him as a monster, but as monstrous as he may seemed, he was also extremely inviting. Handsome features of his face only complimented that alluring voice he spoke with.

I shook my head to answer his question, feeling the burning heat of panic at the back of my head.

He leaned on the old, rusty radiator, making the old piece of metal groan, quietly laughing to himself. "How about now?"

Flames painted the room in orange and red colours. Everything caught fire; table, my blue dresser, the bed, even my stuffed animals. I watched as Mr. Pinky, the elephant I got for my eight birthday, burst into flames, plastic eyes with huge black dots melting into unrecognizable patterns. Black scuffs of paint scared the dresser, burning all the blue away. Every single object in my room was ignited, giving off the unbearable heat and smoke that burned my lungs. I tried to cover my mouth but a bit of smoke still found its way through my nose. The searing heat burned my bare feet as if I were walking on embers, and I could swear I sensed a smell of my scorched skin.

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