The room was cloaked in a soft, ethereal light as I stirred from my slumber, the remnants of a dream lingering in my mind like wisps of smoke. A voice, gentle yet familiar, drifted through the stillness, drawing me from the depths of sleep.
"You like it here, don't you?" The voice, tinged with warmth and affection, filled me with a sense of longing. With a sense of anticipation, I cast off the duvet that enveloped me, eager to discover the source of the sound.
There, seated in a chair bathed in the soft glow of dawn, was my grandmother, her presence a beacon of comfort and joy. A rush of emotion washed over me as I rose from the bed, my heart overflowing with love for this cherished figure from my past.
"Grandmother," I breathed, the words a whispered prayer on my lips. Her smile, radiant and filled with love, enveloped me like a warm embrace..
"He doesn't hate you, Deva," she said, her voice a soothing melody that eased the turmoil in my heart. Confusion clouded my thoughts as I struggled to make sense of her cryptic words.
"The devil doesn't hate you," she continued, her gaze unwavering. "He simply cannot accept the impossible, the forbidden. But even the creator of all cannot change what has been set in motion."
Questions tumbled through my mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind, each one vying for my attention. "Why did Mother kill you?" I asked, the words heavy with sorrow and regret.
Her smile faltered, a shadow passing over her features. "It was for your own good, Deva," she replied softly, her words a balm to my wounded soul. "I would have been the key they would use to bring you back to DEVONA."
Before I could utter another word, a sharp rap at the door shattered the fragile peace that enveloped us, sending my grandmother's form vanishing into thin air.
With a heavy heart, I crossed the room to answer the door, my senses on high alert. Standing before me was a stranger, his presence commanding yet tinged with an air of familiarity.
"Can I help you?" I inquired, my voice tinged with uncertainty. The stranger's smile was disarming, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity.
"What did that old witch tell you?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity. Confusion knotted my brow as I struggled to comprehend his words.
"What are you talking about?" I demanded, my voice rising in frustration. But before I could receive an answer, Lucifer's voice cut through the tension like a blade, his presence filling the room with an almost palpable force.
"Hades, I didn't tell you to come here and yell at my guest," Lucifer's voice was calm yet tinged with a hint of warning. Hades bowed his head in deference, his gaze never leaving mine.
"My apologies, my lord," he murmured, his tone respectful yet tinged with defiance. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Lucifer signaled for Hades to leave, the tension in the room dissipating as he departed.
Alone once more, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air.
"He is so scary," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.
"And you are not scared of me?" Lucifer's voice was a soft murmur, his eyes locking with mine in a silent challenge.
As the words hung in the air, I felt a mixture of defiance and curiosity bubbling within me.
"Why should I?" I challenged, my voice laced with a hint of amusement. But beneath my bravado, uncertainty gnawed at my resolve.
A curse escaped his lips, breaking the tension like a sudden gust of wind. I couldn't help but grin at his irritation, finding a strange sense of satisfaction in his discomfiture.
"Don't you smile?" I teased, the corners of my lips quirking upward despite my efforts to maintain composure.
His response was curt, devoid of the warmth that had colored our conversation moments before.
"No," he stated flatly, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. But there was something in the depths of his gaze, a flicker of something unspoken, that belied his stoic facade.
The revelation of his penchant for darkness gave me pause, a shiver running down my spine at the implications of his words.
"But why did you save me from those things my mother does to me?" I pressed, the question hanging between us like a heavy curtain.
His response was measured, revealing a glimpse of the complexities that lay beneath his enigmatic exterior. "I punish bad people because the creator wants me to do that," he explained, his voice tinged with a sense of duty. "And I also encourage it, so I can bring more people to hell."
The weight of his words lingered in the air, casting a pall over our conversation as I struggled to reconcile the darkness within him with the spark of humanity that still flickered in his eyes.
As he turned to leave, a question burned on my lips, demanding to be voiced.
"How did you become the devil?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. But he offered no answer, disappearing into the shadows without a backward glance.
**LUCIFER.**
"Father."
"Father," Lucifer whispered again, his voice barely a breath in the dim chamber. He rose from the floor, his movements fluid yet weighted with an unseen burden. No one had dared to breach the sanctity of his chambers; only Hades had ever crossed that threshold. Blood trickled down his cheeks, a crimson testament to his inner turmoil, as anger simmered beneath the surface of his stoic demeanor.
With purposeful strides, he traversed the winding passages of hell, each step echoing with the collective anguish of the damned. Human cries mingled with those of witches, werewolves, and vampires, a cacophony of suffering that surrounded him like a suffocating shroud. Yet amidst the torment, he remained unaffected, his gaze cold and unwavering.
His attention settled on a woman, her tear-stained face a reflection of her sins. She had been both a prostitute and a murderer, her life snuffed out in a tragic dance with a demon. Sentenced to hell for her transgressions, she now faced the consequences of her misguided choices.
"Father, father," he called out in his mind, a desperate plea for guidance in the face of his own inner turmoil.
---
**Deva.**
I rose from the bed, stretching my limbs in a languid stretch that banished the remnants of sleep.
"That was the best sleep ever," I murmured to myself, relishing in the rare moment of tranquility. With a yawn, I made my way to the bathroom, my reflection greeting me in the mirror.
As I went about my morning routine, Lauren entered the room, her presence a comforting presence in the otherwise empty space. "Good morning, my princess," she greeted warmly, drawing back the curtains to let in the soft light of dawn.
Returning her smile, I replied in kind before turning my attention back to the task at hand. As Lauren helped me with my hair, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss, a distant memory tugging at the edges of my consciousness.
Once dressed, I adorned myself with the finery befitting my station, a silent tribute to the enigmatic figure who had haunted my dreams. With each stroke of mascara and dab of lip gloss, I prepared myself for the day ahead, uncertain of what it may bring.
"Thank you," I said to Lauren, her brown eyes sparkling with warmth as she bowed her head in response.
"Lauren," I called out, and she turned to face me with a gentle smile.
"Yes, my princess?" she responded, her brown eyes twinkling with warmth.
"I want you to be free with me, like a friend with no constraints," I explained, hoping to bridge the gap between us. Her smile widened, revealing a charming dimple that reminded me of someone else.
"Are you married?" I inquired, curious about her personal life.
"No," she replied shyly, shaking her head.
"Oh," I murmured, processing the information.
"How old are you?" I pressed on, eager to learn more about her.
"I'm 24," she answered, her laughter nervous yet endearing.
"I'm 20," I replied, noting the slight age gap between us.
"So, have you ever had a crush on someone?" I ventured, hoping to lighten the mood.
Her smile turned bashful, and she admitted, "Yeah, once."
"Who's the lucky guy?" I prodded, intrigued by her confession.
"Master Hades," she confessed, her cheeks flushing crimson. The name resonated in my mind, stirring a mixture of curiosity and unease.
"Wow, interesting," I remarked, masking my surprise.
"Yeah, just that he's too focused on the Kingdom to notice me," she lamented softly, revealing a hint of longing.
"Don't worry, everything will work out," I reassured her before our conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Who is it, please?" I called out, eager to know the reason for the interruption.
"The Lord wants to see you in the dining room," came the reply, disregarding my inquiry.
And with that, our conversation came to an abrupt halt.
To be continued...