gods among demons

NET.001

I remember how that night felt in vivid detail. Well, everything except the actual death. After the second hit of my father's baseball bat, a shard of my skull had already pierced my brain, putting me out of my misery before I had a chance to feel the twenty-five that followed.

    No, I remember the feeling that coursed through my veins before my eyes closed for the final time. I remember the helplessness. The anger. The feeling of inferiority. The wondering what I did to deserve this.

    Most of all I remember the self-hatred. I hated how weak I was. I was too weak to physically kill the man who hurt me and, even if I wasn't, I'd probably never be able to bring myself to do it. I was so, so naive. Thinking he'd stop. That he'd miraculously love me. That someone would save me. That I would live....

    None of that happened.

    I died, miserable, beaten, and pathetic, at the age of nineteen, before I'd even gotten the chance to live.

    It took death to make me see.

    Those who hold back, who don't fend for themselves, they suffer. And then they die. That's it. There's no savior. There's no redemption. There is no help. It's you against the world and you've got to do whatever it takes to come out on top. Weakness isn't an option.

    I changed here, but they all do. What right and wrong is there to adhere to in hell? What God is there to be afraid of when they've already condemned you for all eternity? I went through hell in life, was the pillar of kindness and generosity, and still ended up in this cesspool of evil just because I didn't believe in a god who never cared in the first place?

    Ha.

    What a joke.

It was, admittedly, a stroke of genius to get this combination of people to work with GOT7, an organization that seemed to have a hand in every would-be illegal activity down here. To combine them with us...who knows the new doors we could open together. But demons, no matter what species born they are, have a tendancy not to play well with others. Cooperation in anything is usually uncommon and only present in the most desperate situations. It was a given that our decision would take a good chunk of time to reach. What was best for business? For ourselves? For our loved ones?

GOT7 waited patiently as the seven of us weighed our options.

Devon was the first to sign. It was a smooth, unhesitant signature that happened after only seconds of thought and she disappeared without a sound afterward like she was never here at all. Abbadon and Nova brustled like she didn't sit right with them and I could understand why.

    Devon acted with the recklessness of someone with a backup plan that could slaughter the rest of us. She probably did. Hers were the only lines in the USC that I couldn't access. She has everything to hide and a part of me doesn't even understand including her in partnership. Yes, Devon's organization is home to the most skilled assassins, sex workers, and Wytches in all of Hell, but even still was it really worth the risk? Everyone at this table had a history of some level of teamwork except her. For God's sake, she was on her PSP basically the whole time they were negotiating.

    Even still, I found it a bit funny that Nova doesn't seem to be too fond of Devon. They were two sides of the same coin, Nova fully pastel and cute while Devon was sweet enough for things to seem off. It clashed with the insidious, demonic aura radiating from her and her sharp-toothed simper. Abbadon, however, made complete sense, her no-nonsense manner, militaristic disposition coming to a complete heads with Devon's personality.

    And yet there had to be something to her to strike terror into the heart of anyone who heard her name. Chan certainly seemed to think so. He'd never tell me what happened between them only that if she hadn't shown up in Jungle City, he and he rest of Stray Kids would be District fodder right now. From the things I've heard, Devon was not at all the type to go out of her way to help if there was nothing in it for her, especially not....someone like Chris. But Chan doesn't lie. And if there's anybody I trust in this shithole, it's my circle.

    And if things don't work out...I always have plan B.

    This form can't interact with the physical world so I had to bring up the USC, typing a few lines into it until my signature faded into being on the page.
It's obvious they're all unnerved. I'd wager that Yugyeom's the only one who's actually seen a Matrix Fae in real life before. I've been told that many don't even believe we exist.

    It doesn't really matter. We're here for a business deal, not to make friends. It makes no never mind to me whether they're comfortable with my 2D form or not. The flickering, black glitchy silhouette of me doesn't do much for me in the way of networking, but it's useful for skulking and maintaining my anonymity and that's all that matters.

    After my signature, Chan's voice in my head the reassurance that stayed my hand in gliding the pen across the page, Zen and Nex's were quick to follow encored by a few minutes of debtating before Nova's beautiful, scrawling calligraphy adorned the page.

    Abbadon heaved a large sigh, standing from the table, hurriedly signing her name, and striding away without a word, her pace so fast that within seconds her large black wings were nothing more than a speck in the distance.

    And with a few careless strokes of ink, we've unintentionally created the most powerful organization the world will ever see.