Circles and Wings

Prologue

Something really shitty happened to me on my 18th birthday, something that changed my life. On my 18th birthday, I watched my mother die at the hands of the devil himself. I watched Satan, the high king of hell, rip my mother's heart from her chest. I watched her crumple to the floor without a flicker of life, and then I watched two of my ink black tears fall onto her still beating heart, which he'd placed in my hands. A sign of her ever lasting love, he said. After that, he took me to Hell with him.

Some people were scared of him, but I wasn't. He was just a man with power, and while he used the power to get what he wanted, he was relatively harmless to me. Relatively...He went by many names, Satan, Lucifer, Morning, Beelzebub, Pride... evil incarnate... but I called him dad. 

My name is Scarlett Morning and I am the only daughter of Satan himself. High king of hell, Lucifer Morning.

My Dad was a peculiar man. But he was there for me when I needed him. He showed me how to hide my horns and wings, he took me to get tea, talked me through breakups, helped me torture my first victim, and he would even take me on trips to Hell. 

I liked Hell a lot. I would have loved to live there, but Dad always said it was no place to be raised. So I was raised on Earth by my attentive mother. Mom and Dad never saw each other, or at least they tried to see each other as little as possible.

Dad mainly communicated with me through dreams. It looked to my school like I had narcolepsy. I would randomly fall asleep sometimes... and I'd wake up in Hell, only I wasn't awake, it was a dream, and I was talking to Dad. We would talk about school, and mom, and life, and in Hell I could show my horns and my wings. And in Hell I could be myself, and it wasn't like he never came to see me. He definitely did.

He would come to the house every year on my birthday and he would only give me a gift and pat me on my head and say, "Happy birthday my pride and joy," before turning to my mom and telling her how many years I had left, before he'd take me to Hell. 

He did tell mom on my 18th birthday that if she didn't fight he'd let her live. But mom never gave anything up without a fight. Mom never didn't fight. Unfortunately for her, Dad's patience with anyone but me is impressively small.

Mom didn't like that Pride's my Dad. I think they loved each other, once. But it was long gone by the time I came around. But sometime I saw it in the way they stole looks at each other when they thought no one was looking. But Mom also hated him. 

He tricked her, you see. He made her an offer she couldn't refuse. Mom was barren. She couldn't have kids, at all. So when Dad came to her, offering her to conceive the perfect child... she couldn't say no. But what he didn't tell her, was that she'd only be able to keep the child for 18 years. No. He didn't tell her that until the day I was born.

Mom used to tell me that if the Devil had never come into her life, everything would have been so much easier. She wouldn't have been kicked out of her home, she wouldn't be stuck on earth. But she also used to say that that meant that she wouldn't have me. And Mom thought I was important. She said I was meant to bring worlds together. It was complete bullshit.

I wasn't meant for greatness. 

Mom was beautiful. She had clear pale skin and big blue eyes that showed her every emotion, no matter how she tried to hide them. She had auburn hair that glowed in the sunshine. It wasn't quite the blazing Hellish orange that crowned my head, but it was pretty. She was tall too. Both my parents were tall. She stood at a towering 5'11",  but I was only 5'5". And she had a smile that would make others smile, and she was kind. She genuinely wanted to help. If I didn't know any better I would have said she was an angel herself.

She always helped anyone she could. She was a truly bright soul... who had been bogged down with the devil and his daughter. I tried to be like her, for a while. I tried to deny the part of myself that enjoyed watching fires burn and people hurt... but I could never completely silence it. Mom always said I didn't need to be nice to be good, and as long as I was good I'd be nice enough.

Mom always dressed in dresses of flowing gossamer. I think it's what helped her catch Dad's attention. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire world. She was who I wanted to be. But I couldn't bring myself to curl my hair in the effortless way she did every morning.

 I could only bring myself to wear black pants, body suits and crop tops. My clothes reflected my need to be ready to train at anytime. And though I wore dresses, they were short and plain. She would always tell me that how I dressed didn't matter, but when people saw us together... I was ignored in favor of her and everywhere we went... I faded away. 

I didn't fade from Dad's eyes though.

He made the deal so he'd have an heir. Heirs are very important, you see. We're meant to keep peace, give stability to realms, and enforce our parents rules. That's what Dad always used to tell me when he'd take me to visit Hell. 

He told me I was prettier than Mom... though I knew it was a lie. No one was prettier than Mom. Couple my lesser appearance with the fact that I had horns and wings... and I was pretty much the nightmare of every human ever.

On earth, I always had to hide my true appearance, but in Hell I never did. I remembered the first time I removed the glamour. The first time I had let the little red horns that rested on my skull, on the crown of my head straight above my ears show, the first time I let infernal flames freely flow from the roots of my hair, the first time I let my majestic black feathered wings unfold of their tethers. I was four years old, and I flew through the circles of Hell like they were my own personal worlds.

There were six princes in Hell, not related to Dad, but high ranking demons. People on Earth called them the seven deadly sins. Dad preferred to be known as Pride. Then there was, in ranking order: Wrath, Lust, Greed, Envy, Gluttony, and Sloth. Wrath was my best friend. He was Dad's favorite prince, and he was my best friend.

Lust and I were close as well, but Dad hated Lust. Pride was far to good to go to Lust, so it was the perfect hiding place. His bed was the best place to think. The citizens of his kingdom never judged me, never looked at me with fear or estrangement. It was peaceful in Lust.

Hell was, overall, a great place to live. I lived in Pride, the capital and highest circle. I lived in a palace made of gold and blood red stone. It was a building of grand pillars and gargoyles that spoke to you, and too many rooms to count. And it was a maze. I had apartments in the palace, just down the hallway from Dad's. My apartments were sparkling and gold with black tiles spread around and light streaming in through open windows. There was a glass case where Mom's heart was kept, and too many books for me to read in a thousand years. It was my safe place, as odd as that sounds.

The only downside I see to living in Hell is that I would have to be betrothed this year, married to an angel none the less. On my 20th birthday, in two weeks, I would be expected to wed within the next 200 years. I know, that sounds like ages to a mortal, but I live forever... and I was about to be tied down at 20.

Not exactly the best situation. Which is why, two nights ago, I fled to Earth. I fled to a town on the outskirts of NewYork, Midtown. It was a nice, medium place, where I was one of two tenants that lived atop a Chinese restaurant. I had yet to meet my next door neighbor, but I was sure they were just a normal mortal looking for the same freedom as me.