The Devil's Angel

It's funny how suddenly your life can change, isn't it? One day you're just an average teen guy then the next you're an angel of Satan himself.

So let me just get you all caught up with my situation.

My name is Conor. I am 16 years old, about 6"1 and I'm one of Lucifer's best servants, also known as The Devil's Angel.

I've been his servant for a year now and during that year I did my best to become the best damn demon I could. Now demon aren't they same as the way we thought they were. They don't go around killing and causing mischief. It's like being in an office building I guess, you just go around doing what your boss can't find time to do and work your but off to impress him. God knows...no..Satan knows I've tried.

I am a demon. A warrior and I  protect the earth and all you vulnerable, fragile mortals from the dreaded Cloaked Angels. Many of you may know him as another name though...The Grimm Reaper.

God controls this army of Grimm Reapers and every day us demons put our asses on the line to save you.

Grimm Reapers, or Nemesis as we call them, aren't beautiful people with big, feathery, white wings nor are they a tall, dark, shrouded figure who shows up when you die to take you to the afterlife. No. They are monsters. All of them. They come in the forms of something or someone you love and they snatch you and kill you. They do this in such away that they leave no trace of their existence at the scene. They take you in the worst ways possible; slit throat, snap your neck and various other ways.

They never show their true form to anyone, no one was even sure if they had one, but they do and I saw it. They're horrible and grey and disgusting. If you have ever seen 3 day old mouldy porridge topped with dried up flour then you know what I'm talking about. They stalk around with scwelching noises, they communicate through grunts and groans, they have venomous foam dripping from their 7" fangs and they have horrible blood red snake like eyes. They have no body parts except their beady eyes, huge jaw and long legs that had to be at least 9m long.

This is their true form and I try to remember that every time I come face to blob with them. One wrong move and those venomous fangs could cut me in half. I am the best demon, I am their leader and I will destroy the Nemesis.

Before I was just your average guy; flirting with girls, playing sport, hanging out with my friends. I had a pretty good body if I do say so myself and I was quite smart and good with my hands if you know what I mean.

To my friends I would have been known as a good mate. Good on the playing field and decent with girls, maybe even a bit of a player. I had good grades and things were looking good for my future. I was happy.  At least that's what they thought. If only they took more notice to the cuts and bruises that decorated my body.

Truth be told I wasn't happy. Sure I put on a happy face and stuff but in reality things weren't that good.

My dad was a drunk and my mum left when I was little. I guess she finally had enough of all the abuse he gave her. Her only mistake was that she left me behind. He started going out more after she left and once he had a few drinks in him he'd start taking out his anger on whoever was there and guess who was that lucky person?  You got it. Me.

I did whatever i could to numb the pain of it all. I couldn't bring myself to just up and leave. Who knows what would become of him if I did and despite how miserable i was i couldn't be like my deadbeat mother and run. Where would i go anyway?

We didn't have alot of money, he spent whatever he earned down in the pubs. My 3 secret jobs were the only things that didn't get us evicted and if he knew about that no fount he'd waste that too. Not even my best friend Dylan knew about my life at home and it really sucked dealing with it on my own.

One night he came home stone drunk and ranting on about some girl who wouldn't hook up with him. I was tired from a 9 hour shift and didn't want to pretend like I was interested so we ended up arguing. He went to hit me with a baseball bat that was sitting next to the kitchen table but this time I hit him first and knocked him out cold.

I didn't want to hang around until he woke up so I ran for it.

That's how I ended up here as the head of Satan's army. I was alone, cold and stumbling through the dark, dangerous streets of Chicago when a group of druggies started staggering after me. They cornered me in an allie and all of them were armed with bats and knives.

I always hated the thought of hitting someone because of what my father did but at the time I had no other choice. I closed my eyes, let my mind go blank and whispered quietly "Death...".

20 minutes later I left the allie with only a scrape on my cheek. 2 of the men were dead and the other 4 were seriously injured and knocking on deaths door, only it seemed that I was knocking on his door. The nemesis came to kill me and finish off those who survived and that's when I saw Jake.

He saved me and he brought me to Satan. He showed me the way to happiness and bliss and how to make the most of life. I was trained up and slowly worked my way to the top, I let nothing distract me from my task and thirst for revenge on my father...well, nothing except one person.