Change Me || Septiplier

Four.

Mark looked over at Sean, who had gone quiet in thought and was staring off into the distance. He wouldn't admit it, but Mark was enjoying the company of Sean. It wasn't usual for Mark to enjoy the company of someone, he preferred being alone most of the time, but Sean was different somehow. The Angel was enjoyable, and Mark hated him a little less than he hated everyone else.

And Mark doesn't know if that's a good thing.

He looked over at him more, inspecting him, and noticed a strand of green hair sticking up from the rest of his hair. If it were anybody else, Mark wouldn't of cared and would've just left it to be, but his arm was lifting up before he could even realise it. Pointing up to his own hair, Sean looked up and followed his hand, his brows furrowing until he realised what Mark meant. Sean reached up and raked his fingers through his hair, his face going a soft shade of pink. Mark looked back at his cup, his mind blank. Picking the cup up, he rocked the glass in a circular motion in his hand.

Sean cleared his throat and began talking. "So, you're Mark Fischbach? As in..." he trailed off, not finishing his sentence, but Mark knew what he was going to say.

"One of the first Demons? Yeah, that's me." Sean nodded, agreeing to the answer since it was the one he was looking for.

"Yeah... figured. I wasn't born an Angel, but rather became one. I was born a human, but when I was seventeen, a few months my birthday, I got into a car crash. Drunk driver hit me directly on the drivers side," he whispered, his voice cracking in sadness. "Woke up an Angel." Mark watched as Sean blinked a few times before shaking his head and looking down.

Mark felt a pang of sadness and was confused about why he did. He was usually so emotionless, never feeling sad about someone's death. Death was something he was so used to, he collected souls for a living. So how come Sean's death was different? It could've been just another job for Mark, so why is he feeling heartbreak over him?"

>>>>>>

Sean noticed a small falter in Mark's face when he looked back up at him, but Mark pushed it away and went back to his usual emotionless, blank face he always wears. The fact that he was one of the oldest Demons to exists, next to a few others, had Sean's heart racing. But he pushed his fear away. Something was different with this Demon, he wanted to be friends with him and wanted to talk to him.

Why he hadn't left yet? He didn't know. Sean told himself to leave more than ten times now, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. They were having a conversation and Sean was enjoying it.

But he did have a question he was debating on asking. He inhaled. "Why do you like killing?" Mark froze at the question. But he fixed his regular posture and turned in his stool, his whole body now facing Sean. Maybe he shouldn't of asked, it was rather rude, but he wanted to — needed to — know. He was an Angel, he had questions as to what it was like being a Demon.

Mark reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a pair of thick-framed glasses. Placing them in his face, he adjusted them barely. They suited his face, somehow managing to tie the whole outfit together.

Mark looked ahead at Sean, their eyes meeting. "I'm a Demon. I was raised around the most powerful Demons of all. I was taught to kill. Some Demons don't kill, they just possess or make deals, or do other types of business. But I've always done it. For my own business and for others. If a human owes us something, they're given a certain amount of time to give us what they promised. If it's past it's date, the punishment is death. Say a human makes a deal with a Demon, they're given a certain period of time for it to be effective. Then, at the end of the time, a Demon must collect their soul. It's never killing for fun in my life, I kill for business." Sean furrowed his brows, the words making sense but at the same time not. He couldn't really say anything, could he? "You think it's wrong because you were raised that way, and now you've been taught as an Angel 'thou shall not kill.' It's a sin to you, but it's a living for me. I only kill the warned, never the sick or wounded. There's reasons behind my actions. So do not judge me for my actions because they're against your beliefs. I do not judge your actions. We're both living the lives we were raised to live. We're both doing the jobs we were taught to do."