The Girl Who Made The Devil Weak

The Angel

"What is your name?"

He looked down upon her visage, taking in her features as he whispered quietly, "I am Lucifer. I am the Devil. The instiller of fear in mortal men."

Hanna's eyes widened slightly, but softened, suprising him but also sparking a glimmer of hope within him.

"I do not understand. Why do you not fear me?" He scrunched up his face in confusion, "I am Satan. Evil incarnate. Yet you have never felt a sliver of fear towards me. Why is that?"

She tilted her head to the side in thought,
"I do not know to be quite honest."

He hummed in response, holding her closer, "You're a strange human."

"Maybe I am. That's not a bad thing."

"Never said it was." He chuckled.

She smiled to herself. His voice was gruff yet soothing. Who knew the Devil would be like this?

""Evil incarnate", you said? You don't seem all that bad," she inquired, "You seem more like a protector than anything resembling evil."

"I act this way only to those of pure intentions and good hearts. So far, you are the only one of them I have encountered." He looked off into the distance as he continued.

"No matter what you have done, it was done with the right intentions. You always meant the best in all you've done," His voice dropped to a small whisper, "And you tried your best to defend yourself. The angels would be proud of the fight you put up."

Her eyes lowered as tears blurred her vision once more.

"I'm damaged now, though. No longer pure. No longer lovable." She looked up at him with teary eyes. "Who's ever going to want a broken girl?" She began to sob, not being able to hold back the flood of emotions any longer.

"What's the point in fighting if you have nothing left to fight for? What's the point of a good heart if it just screws you over more times than you can count? I bare my soul, show kindness and goodness in this terrible world, and get walked all over. What's the point of anything I have ever done if I'm just going to end up in Hell anyways?!"

He sat, holding her to him as she cried. His soul ached for this poor girl. What broke him, though, was hearing what she muttered next.

"You should have let me die."