Asmodeus

1

Winter this year was harsh. The howling gale swayed the bare trees back and forth as the snow fell heavily. A thick blanket of snow covered the castle grounds that once was full of life— but this didn't bother Asmodeus. In fact, he was glad the sun was hiding, the heavy winds and never ending snow kept the humans off his property, it kept them away.

The King of Nine Hells sat in his extravagant library, slowly sipping his daily coffee, a mortal beverage he found himself being addicted to since the discovery. The fire place was alight, softly crackling, providing Asmodeus with a warmth he didn't really need. He enjoyed the cold actually but the servants here couldn't deal with it so he agreed that they could at least be warm; what, he wasn't that cruel.

The library was one of the King's most loved possessions in his castle; it was filled with rare and historic books throughout the centuries- shelves that were from the ground and it reached high up onto the ceilings. Multiple ladders with tiny wheels were attached to the shelves, here and there, it wasn't that Asmodeus couldn't reach the books, he could always teleport or fly— but he loved the aesthetics of it as well as swinging back and forth on it now and then, nothing that his servants needed to know.

The library was silent, nothing but the crackling of the fire and the howling winds outside could be heard. Branches tapped against the cold panes of glass aggressively as the King continued to enjoy his hot coffee, his long fingers gently turning the pages of his favourite book. The Art of War. A ghost of a smile appeared on Asmodeus' face as his eyes danced across the pages.

Asmodeus was a brute, a cold hearted killer, dare even call him a monster of a warrior, but he loved knowledge and wisdom more than anything else. He loved the smell of old novels. It was something that bought him a sense of warmth and comfort. The King was the smartest of all his brothers and the most wisest; he was cunning, quick and strong— plus the bonus of being the most handsome out of all the brothers.

Asmodeus had jet black hair, sporting his usual style of his signature style of a slick back undercut with low fade; occasionally with the usual strands rebelling with staying slick back. It suited him in his opinion; it made him look more intimidating.

The King, appearance wise was extremely attractive. His jawline was strong, sharp and defined. His piercing, cold grey eyes made him look more heartless yet so captivating and mysterious. He adorned a few piercings here and there, a few on his lobes and one small one on his brow. The servants were against it as it was wrong for a King to look so... modernly inappropriate and so aggressive looking, but he was the king and no one could tell him no.

Asmodeus always wore a three piece black suit; keeping to the classy style of the 1930s. He looked classy, clean and admirable yet it made him look powerful, fierce and intimidating. He loved the monochrome look. Devil King or not, fashion was also another lowkey love of his. The way you dressed was extremely important.

Always in the best tailored suits, Asmodeus always wore a single breasted, black tweed jacket, made from the finest Shetland wool, lined with the finest black silk. His jackets all had three buttons with his emblem, notched lapels, conventional pockets— the breast pocket, two flap pockets and inside chest pockets on the left and the right and a must have of the 3 button cuffs with his initials. His overcoat and trousers were all made to perfection ranging from blacks to dark greys, but his go to was always black, even his button up tops underneath would be black, but occasionally he'll decide on the crisp white too. He still was able to fight in his suits which made him content. He still wanted to look good, fighting or not.

Asmodeus also paired his immaculate suits with the highest quality of cap toe Oxford shoes, made with the finest leather money could get. He had his signature black pair with black lace and stitching. The reinforced cap was made strong, enabling the king to be able to still fight without worrying about damaging his shoes. The sole of his shoes were crimson red much like the blood he spilled over the centuries— his personal favourite touch, the soles being laced with his venom that could burn mortal skin.

The King gently closed his book as he finished the last of his coffee and gently placed the cup down upon the table with a soft clink. He reached for his gold pocket watch and checked the time before putting it away and made his way over to the shelves. Placing the book back gently, Asmodeus slicked his hair back and exited the library, walking tall.

Servants bowed in fear and respect as he passed, his hands in his pockets. The winter was indeed harsh this year. The king glanced outside the long corridor windows and watched his property. Where once a beautiful garden used to be, it was now barren, covered in nothing but dead trees and snow.

The fountain was frozen over, the gargoyles being nipped at by the cold winds. It continued to howl violently as branches hit against the window panes; swaying and groaning in the cold.

Asmodeus took a deep breath and his piercing eyes followed the footprints in the snow; a small figure moving weakly against the winter. The king smiled a mischievous smile, and his eyes glistened with evil and curiosity. He licked his lips as to quench his hunger.

"Well, well. What is a human doing on my grounds?"