Heaven's Child ≫ SPN

9. Sympathy for the Devil

Alec || Somewhere in South Venezuela

Ever since man roamed the Earth, the Sun was the topic of great speculation.

Babylonian, Egyptian, Greek, and Roman civilizations took the Sun as a revered deity. Understandably, they believed it to be the creator of all life. Without the Sun, a civilization based primarily on agriculture such as theirs was impossible.

Others feared the Sun and the heat that it emitted. To them it was no more than a round, great demon, with heat that could only insinuate a hell starving for innocent flesh.

Scientists concluded that the Sun is a mixture of both ideas. It is a great demon that will someday be our demise, but until then it is the source of life for all things on Earth. Without it, plants could not photosynthesize and bear the fruits that feed more complex animals which in turn feed even greater beasts. The Sun simply equated life.

Alec did not like the Sun. 

He'd read about it in the textbooks. Dissected the entire milky way galaxy and sister galaxies, in fact. And a small part of him yearned to see the magnificent star for himself, to feel the warm rays on the leather of his skin. But as he stood in the middle of a desert in the south of Venezuela, the Sun was not making a good first impression.

Earth its self was irking him in ways he couldn't understand before. Sand getting in his shoes, the sun blinding his vision, air so dusted with sand he felt it in his lungs—it was infuriating.

He couldn't recall being cast out of hell. But the Sun was there to prove that he was on Earth. And as the Sun travelled in an arch in the sky and the seemingly endless desert was only becoming larger, he was beginning to believe that being cast out was only a figment of his imagination.

The moon made an appearance and was starting to set by the time Alec found the road. He walked several more miles before he discovered the warehouse. There, a man in his early thirties was sitting guard.

It was the first time Alec made an encounter with a human. Well, one that wasn't screaming and who's skin was bright red and sizzling. Right at the sight of him, the man ran to Alec.

"¿qué estás haciendo aquí el hombre?" He clapped a friendly hand on Alec's back. Alec tensed, not moving a single muscle. He studied the man with narrow, careful eyes, feeling his hand on his back like every nerve in his body was compressed in that very small section of flesh.

"Te vi caminando y yo no lo podía creer!" He was looking at Alec in disbelief. "Usted debe estar cansado, deja que te traiga un poco de agua." He gestured to the only chair and a bottle of water.

Alec's trained eyes studied the man.

Homely clothes, torn and ripped. He had too many scars up and down his arms, but Alec figured his were on accident. The man was too skinny, just skin and bones, just like Alec.

Bur despite that, the man was sorry that Alec walked all that distance on foot, and was currently offering him everything he had: a place to sit and a bottle of water.

"No te preocupes. Mi nombre es Stephen," the man smiled, holding out his hand for Alec to shake.

****

Stephen's body was still bleeding outside when Alec drew the symbols on the floor of the warehouse with his blood.

One by one demons yielded to the beacon, appearing with hesitant expressions on their faces, unsure where their loyalties lie. They were all wearing average civilians off the streets—school children, farmers, old women, beautiful men.