Lucifer's Revenge

Part 1: Dark and Twisted Happiness

There she was, lying in the snow, her body barely a smudge against the expanse of pure white. She looked so small, so fragile, surrounded by winter's cold embrace. The sight struck me in a way I hadn't anticipated. After all these centuries, after all the hatred that had grown within me like a storm, there she was. Helpless. Vulnerable. The one who had taken everything from me—Seraphina.

Her gown, ethereal and delicate, draped around her as if trying to shield her from the unforgiving cold, but it was no match for winter. Her long hair, now darkened from its once radiant blond, spilled across the snow like ink. Her skin was pale—paler than it used to be, and yet it was untouched by time. She was still beautiful, that eternal kind of beauty that had haunted me for far too long. Her features, carved by the hands of the divine—those high cheekbones, those perfect lips—were exactly as I remembered. And that fact filled me with both fury and longing.

Her eyes were wide open, staring up at the sky, lost and confused, like a child who had awoken in a world she didn't understand. I watched her, standing in the shadows, the bitterness in my heart as sharp as the winter wind that tore through the trees around us. She was trembling, struggling to stand, her bare feet sinking into the snow, and for a moment, I almost felt something akin to pity. Almost.

She had betrayed me. Stripping me of everything I once had, and now here she was, stripped of power, stripped of memory, barely capable of surviving the night. I should have relished this moment. It should have brought me satisfaction, but all I felt was the stirring of something I had tried to bury deep within me—something dangerously close to mercy.

I remained there, unmoving, my heart a stone lodged within my chest. I might have watched her die, let her suffer the way I had suffered, if it hadn't been for them. A group of men approached her, their laughter cutting through the stillness, their eyes gleaming with something dark and malicious. They closed in on her, and I watched as she spoke to them, her voice soft, barely audible in the cold night air. She rejected their advances, her confusion evident, but they paid no heed. They surrounded her, and I could see their intent as clearly as I could see the snow beneath my feet.

My eyes darkened, my patience wearing thin. One of them reached out to grab her arm, and she flinched, her eyes widening in fear. Something inside me snapped. Despite everything—despite the anger, the hatred, the desire for revenge—I couldn't stand by and watch. Not like this.

I moved before I realized it, swift as a shadow, a force that seemed to materialize from the night itself. My hand closed around the wrist of the man who had dared to touch her, and with a flick of my wrist, he was sent flying back into the snow, his scream cut short by the impact. The others turned, their eyes wide with fear as they took in my presence—the aura of power that radiated from me. They stumbled over themselves to escape, their bravery dissolving into panic.

I turned my gaze back to her. She was on the ground, her eyes wide, staring at me in awe and fear. There was confusion, yes, but there was also gratitude. She whispered a soft "thank you," her voice trembling, her body shaking from the cold. She didn't recognize me. She had no idea who I was or what I had been to her. She looked at me as if I was her savior. For a moment, I felt the urge to reveal myself, to see the realization in her eyes—but the satisfaction of remaining unknown, of having her oblivious to who I truly was, was too enticing to resist.

A dark smile tugged at my lips. She didn't remember me. The goddess, Seraphina, had no idea who I was. For a moment, I considered leaving her there, letting her fend for herself. But then an idea took root—an opportunity. If she didn't remember me, then I could use this. I could earn her trust, get close to her, and when the time was right, I would make her pay for everything she had done.

I reached out, offering her my hand. She hesitated, her eyes searching mine, uncertainty written across her features. "The other option is to stay here and die in the cold," I added, my voice carrying a hint of finality. Her eyes flickered, fear mingled with desperation, and after a moment, she slowly placed her hand in mine. Her fingers were cold as they slipped into mine, and I pulled her to her feet, my eyes never leaving her face.

She shivered violently, her body unable to withstand the cold any longer. I knew that if I left her here, she wouldn't survive the night. And that simply wouldn't do—not if I wanted to exact my revenge. I shrugged off my coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, feeling her lean into its warmth instinctively. Her fingers clung to the fabric, and for a brief moment, her eyes met mine, filled with gratitude. It made my dark resolve only deepen.

I knew she couldn't keep walking like this. Without a word, I bent down and lifted her into my arms, her weight barely registering. She let out a surprised gasp, but she didn't resist, her body too weak to protest. Her head rested against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck as I held her close, her bare feet no longer touching the snow. I wrapped my arm around her, feeling her weight lean into me as her strength began to falter.

Without a word, I continued carrying her, her head resting against my shoulder, her body trembling from exhaustion and cold. She had no choice but to let me take her, her trust born out of desperation. She was fragile, a shell of the goddess she once was, and that made this all the more perfect.

I decided to walk, to carry her to the car instead of teleporting—now I was in my human form, just another man. I needed to keep my identity hidden from her and any passerby. Keeping her away from the prying eyes of those who could come to her rescue was crucial, and teleporting would reveal to Seraphina that I was not just a human.

I walked steadily through the deserted streets, her breathing slowing as her exhaustion took over. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she was asleep before we even reached the car. Once at the car, I opened the door carefully, easing her into the back seat without waking her, her body limp and exhausted. I then drove through the silent streets, the city lights flickering in the distance, until we reached a remote part of the city.

I had driven us to a place I knew no one would think to look—a building I owned on the outskirts of the city, hidden away from prying eyes. It was a place where no one would think to look, secluded and forgotten, but it would serve my purpose well.

The door creaked open as I pushed it aside, carrying her inside. The air was cold, stagnant, but it was still better than the biting winter outside. She remained asleep in my arms, her head resting against my shoulder, completely unaware of her surroundings.

I moved through the darkened space, guiding her to the bedroom. I laid her down carefully on the bed, her body sinking into the mattress, and covered her with a blanket. She looked so peaceful, so fragile, and for a moment, I allowed myself to simply watch her. Her life was in my hands now, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of happiness—a dark, twisted satisfaction that filled the emptiness inside me.

Seraphina's betrayal had taken everything from me, and now, she was completely at my mercy. I would savor this. I would be patient. This was just the beginning.

The revenge I had dreamed of for centuries was now within reach, and I would take it—slowly, patiently. I would savor every moment of it. The betrayal would be slow, like the centuries of pain she had condemned me to. I wanted her to feel it all—the heartbreak, the confusion, the agony. This time, I would be the one in control, and I would relish every second of her downfall.