My heart pounded like a drum in a metal band as I tried to move my paralyzed body. My legs betrayed me, and my brain seemed to have surrendered its only mission: 'Escape.'
Pressed against the wall like a human pancake, I felt trapped, with no room to wiggle my way out. The demon before me raised his hand, and his long, witch-like nails glinted in the moonlight, looking like a blade ready to plunge into my heart. But wait, where did the moonlight come from? Well, try dying, and you'll see all sorts of weird things when your life flashes before your eyes.
Moments felt like eternities as I braced myself for the blow that might end my life or lead to a slow and agonizing torture. But to my surprise, the blow never came. My mind raced back to hours ago, or was it an eternity? When Stacey, the demon, had tried to kill me, I thought I was safe, only to be saved momentarily before being plunged into despair once more.
Time dragged on, and the silence was deafening. I couldn't bear it any longer. I slowly opened my eyes, expecting the worst, and let out a yelp of surprise when I saw Gluttonia leaning in, his striking, human-like green eyes staring intensely into my soul.
In the awkward silence that followed, I felt like I was in a staring contest with a predator. My eyes watered due to a lack of blinking from fear. When I couldn't hold it any longer, I blinked rapidly multiple times, trying to bat away tears and the sting in my eyes. Unexpectedly, Gluttonia burst into laughter, a deep, throaty sound that somehow managed to be strangely pleasant.
I couldn't believe it. Was this demon mocking my fear? My mind reminded me that appearances could be deceiving, and his real form was terrifying beyond belief. However, I found myself somewhat drawn to the charisma he exuded, despite my better judgment.
Still trying to catch my breath, I stared back at him, my mind a whirlwind of confusion. The laughter abruptly ceased, and Gluttonia straightened up, resuming his intense stare.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, "Are you sure you don't want to be my wife? Nobody would dare lay a finger on what belongs to me."
My eyes widened in disbelief. Are we seriously still on that topic? I thought it had been a spur-of-the-moment comment earlier. But then it struck me—Gluttonia had mentioned me being a ghost earlier. How on earth did he remember?
"Don't worry your pretty, delicate head, Alora. Yes, I remember everything," Gluttonia drawled with a smug smile. "And I'm not here to kill you, either. Why would I kill something that interests me?"
My mind raced with questions. How could I possibly fathom what was going on in this demon's twisted mind? I had to be cautious, to remember that demons were masters of deception.
"Of course, there's no way for you to know that," Gluttonia continued, almost as if reading my thoughts. "That aside, I need to send you back to LA and wipe your memory clean. Can't have lover boy coming back to find you or me here, now can we? Besides, you wouldn't want two drop-dead gorgeous men fighting over you, would you?" he said, giving her his most infuriatingly charming smile.
My resistance flared up again. I couldn't let him erase my memories and manipulate my life, not him not anybody. "What do you mean, wipe my memory? Are you going to mess up my life all over again? Obliterate my memories like nothing happened, while I'm in danger, completely unaware, and forced to face an even worse fate?"
Gluttonia's grin only widened. "Now now, don't make me out to be the bad guy here. You'll be sent back to Los Angeles, the City of Angels. It's a haven where no demon dares to tread. You'll be safe away from me and from anything else that wants to harm you."
I rolled my eyes, doubting the name's angelic connotations. "City of angels, my arse," I muttered under my breath.
"Hmm? Did you say something?" Gluttonia teased, his eyes narrowing with amusement.
Oh, great. I had spoken aloud. "Nothing," I replied hastily.
You might wonder why it's called the city of angels. Had angels or fallen angels dwelled there before? No, not at all. Los Angeles just means "The Angels." If that sounds like an odd name for a city, that's because it's just part of the original Spanish-language name of the settlement: El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río Porciúncula. I read that on Quora once.
"I'm losing you there Alora." Gluttonia drawled. "I promise you, you'll be safe there. No demon dares to go in."
"And yet Stacey did." I challenged.
"You see, angels or demon slayers can't detect demons who possess a human body," Gluttonia explained, taking a casual sip of his drink that I don't know where it come from. "But in the City of Angels, you'll be untouchable."
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "What about Stacey? She seemed pretty determined to kill me and she was with me in LA."
Gluttonia waved his hand dismissively. "Stacey was an exception. She possessed a human body, rendering herself vulnerable while she played docile in her host's form. No demon would want to humiliate themselves and possess a human while being unless and unable to cause havoc, we have dangerous and foolish pride. Glade is willing to do anything for me .Besides, she's utterly infatuated with me." He happily and arrogantly declared like that would make any differences to me.
"Oh, spare me," I muttered. "How then do you explain Sei, he clearly is one of you."
"Sei, oh Sei isn't one of us. He's an angel, a very terrible one judging by the fact that he tried to kill you."
Tried?
"I heard that he has been doing rebellious stuff of late. " He continued paying no mind to my raised eyebrow. "He's trying to gain the attention of his elder brother Gabriel. Although, a number of angels have been shown to have disdain for humanity, whom they believe are flawed and inferior creations, maybe Sei is one of them. I don't know, I don't care."
Gluttonia's charming facade disappeared and his expression darkened. "Enough about that. The memory wiping, my dear Alora. That's what we need to discuss."
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"She moved a finger! Nurse, my friend moved a finger!" someone shouted, and the sound of loud running footsteps filled the room as a nurse rushed over to check on me.
"Hello, Miss Smith, can you hear me? Move your finger if you can hear me."
In response, I managed to move two fingers, and a resounding cheer erupted.
"She's back! I told you, my friend is a fighter," I recognized Samantha's voice. The medical professionals hushed her excitement.
I attempted to speak, but my throat felt parched and itchy. Struggling to stay awake, I eventually succumbed to a deep, dreamless sleep.