The Devil's Daughter

The Sinner's Saint

"So, tell me about your relationship with your father." Lisa Bradley spoke, inviting me to answer.

"He's my dad." I answered bluntly. "And The Devil. What else is there to say?"

The blonde pouted, her ballpoint falling to her lap. "Stop resisting and work with me, please. We've been here for a half an hour and you haven't given me anything." She begged of me.

"It's not going to work you know: trying to get answers out of me." I refused. "It's not that I don't want to talk; it's just that I'm talking and you guys aren't listening. You are the fifth therapist that my dad's sent me to, but he's too stubborn to see the truth that's staring him straight in the face while you guys are all so desperate to not lose your souls that you ignore me completely and just tell my dad what he wants to hear because he's Satan."

"I'm listening to you. What do you want to say? What isn't your dad seeing?" She fed into the rant that I had started. I shot up and began pacing the room as I started spewing each and every thought that came to mind. "My father's constantly saying that I need to just accept my destiny and be like him but he doesn't seem to accept the fact that I'm not like him! I'm not a pure-blooded Devil like everyone else, but my father insists on treating me like I'm one. He never gives me any say over my life and I'm absolutely sick of it!"

Bradley leaned forward, cupping her chin with her hand as she eyed me with what seemed to be understanding. "So you mean to tell me that you don't want to be like your father? You don't want to punish the guilty for their crimes?"

"Not the way my dad does it." I shook my head. "The way he does it, he's judge, jury, executioner... and sometimes even the defendant. He's taken the will of so many people over the years that I'm surprised he even has his own personality. He's taken away the things that's made people human and he's using their 'faulty nature' as an excuse to murder them with his damned deals."

"So how does that relate to you? Has your dad ever done something that crossed the line and made you decide that you didn't want to take over for him?"

"No." I answered. "He hasn't done anything yet, but I won't put it past him to try something. I want to make the world a better place like everyone else does, but the way my dad does it is wrong. I honestly prefer my grandmother's method as opposed to his: just have them go throughout their lives with no trace of divine or demonic interference, then when they die, put them in a place that will cleanse them of their sins if they really want it."

"But how? How could the Princess of Hell want to do something that's attributed to God? That should go against your entire nature as an absolute incarnation of evil."

"It does... if I was evil, but I'm not. Now, I'm not saying that I'm a Saint, but I don't share my dad's vision for wiping out all good."

"So you're like me, then? Somewhere in the middle between Good and Evil?"

"Yes." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally someone gets it. I guess I'm more Mortal than I realized, which is funny since my dad refuses to let me go up there!" I yelled the last part into the tape recorder that Lisa had on the desk, making absolutely sure that once my dad hears it, that'll stand out to him... provided he's made it that far in without destroying half the castle first. Lisa leaned forward, turning off the recorder.

"Off the record, do you like this school? Do you like Satan's Academy of Darkness?"

"No." I responded. "I hate this place; everyone here is absolutely cruel and dark and evil and I don't like it one bit. I'd go to a Mortal school if I could; sure some of the kids are cruel, heartless bastards, but at least they're closer to the middle of the moral spectrum than these urchins."