𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕘𝕚☾𝕎𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟 ✞𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧✞

ℂℍ𝔸ℙ𝕋𝔼ℝ 𝕊𝔼𝕍𝔼ℕ

❦ And these voices, the ones that I can hear in my head. Oh, these fellas are telling me that I'd be better off dead. ❦

Could It Be...Satan?

Its been a couple months since we moved in with Micheal's new devil mama, and she completely hates me.

Well she tolerates me in front of Michael, but I know she loathes me, and I can't figure out why. I have my own room though, but I miss Murder House. I miss Ben and Violet and Vivian and even Tate, although he was a huge pain in my ass, he was giving me the opportunity to talk to Constance. Which I never got because Micheal wanted us to leave the home we had made together to start fresh.. so he said.

I just feel like a burden living with the two of them. She was one of the two disciples that came with the Black Pope who took Micheal away that night Vivian read the book of revelations to me, I'm still not too sure how she found us though.

Micheal never told me what they did that night. He won't, he always finds a way to curve the question or tells me not to worry about it but I do.

I'm a bit jealous to be honest because she kind of took my role as his caretaker. I'm happy for him, that he has another person to count on, he sees her as the mother he never had. Which leaves me kind of out in the cold because they connect on a level I'm not a part of.

Sense she's so religious, it took me a while to get accustom to how she lives. We only pray to satan before every meal and even before bed and I fallow every one of her rules but it's become exhausting to deal with. I guess I'm just not use to the whole being a satanist thing yet. But this is what it's come to stay close to him, then I'll do it.

This afternoon I'm helping her prepare lunch, only to end up smacked on the hand with her wooden spoon for putting to much spice on the meat.

"Ow!" I drop the pepper and it spills in the floor.

"You're putting too much spice!" She yells, "I swear sometimes I don't understand how Micheal didn't croak with your way of cooking."

I pout and eye the back of my red hand.
"Now clean this up and set the table like a good little satan worshiper okay?" She smarts.

I sigh, but don't argue with her and clean up the mess before setting out the plates and silverware. I smile at how neat I set everything up and then she complains about the fork begging on the wrong side of the plate.

"Micheal food's ready!!!"

"Do not SHOUT in MY house!" She demands and I flinch at her tone of voice, "What in satan's name is the matter with you?"