Wings, Flings, and Demon Kings || COMPLETE

Chapter 5: How is babby formed?

7:43 P.M.

My apartment

Still bleeding. 

I can practically feel the life ebbing from my body as I write this.

I'm pretty sure it was the sushi. I distinctly remember someone telling us during orientation that humans aren't supposed to eat raw food.

This must have been the demon's plan all along. Drop a mention of sushi, get me intrigued, and then trick me into eating something that would kill my human body!

I knew he was plotting something nefarious.

I knew it!

7:45 P.M.

I'm going to call that bastard and give him a piece of my mind!!!!!!!

That was probably too many exclamation marks.

What does Archangel Ramiel always say? 'Exclamation marks are a sign of a diseased mind?'

7:46 P.M.

I'm getting off topic.

I'm literally bleeding to death.

There's no time to waste.

7:47 P.M.

I'm going to call him.

He can't deny it if I confront him about it.

I mean, he could deny it, but I'd hear the lie in his voice and know he was guilty!

...Maybe.

...Probably?

7:48 P.M.

Regardless, I'm calling him.

7:50 P.M.

...I'm really doing it, Diary.

Right now.

Last chance to stop me.

8:55 P.M.

Azerath's apartment

I did it, Diary.

I called his number.

It did not, as I'd feared, take me to an automated system staffed by denizens of Hell.

Instead, it rang a few times, and then, just when I was about to give up and try to call a doctor, he answered.

"Hello there, unfamiliar number," he said. "If this is another telemarketer—"

"No, it is NOT a telemarketer, you no-good, dirty demon!"

I may have shouted a teensy bit too loudly into the receiver. There was a clatter, as though Azerath had dropped his phone in surprise, and a bit of scuffling.

Then he was back. "Nirael? Is that you?"

His voice held a mixture of amusement and alarm. I might have found it alluring, if I wasn't so sure he was the cause of my current bloody state. As it was, I grew even more convinced he was behind this.

"You bet your evil boots it's me!" One of my neighbors banged on the wall, and I lowered my voice. "I know what you did, you diabolical monster!"

Another pause followed, during which I imagined Azerath was trying to find the right words to grovel to me in apology.

Then he coughed.

"Er... not that I'm not exceptionally devious and diabolical, but... would you care to enlighten me as to what it is, exactly, that I did?"

"Playing innocent, are we?" I seethed. "As if you didn't know! I'm bleeding! I clearly have massive internal organ damage! And it's all your fault."