Capricorns and Devil Horns

What the Holy Hell?

After coaxing Hannah out of the house with BOGOF wine vouchers for the club down the road, I stormed into Morgan's room to find him head in hands.

"Care to explain what the holy Hell you're talking about?" I snapped.

Morgan slowly lifted his head, only to give a bitter smile.

"What? What's so fucking funny that I had to kick Hannah out?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

For the first time since I'd met him, his voice was small and meek. Instead of being hoarse and childlike. Seeing him like that made me calm down a little. So innocent and vulnerable... I sighed, and sat beside him, placing a hand on his knee.

"Just tell me, Morgan. You can't make all this fuss then not tell me."

"But you won't believe me," he croaked, "And if you do... you'll hate me."

"I'll hate you if you don't tell me what you're going on about. How on Earth could you been Hannah's dad?"

His eyes locked with mine, seemingly softer than usual and more blue than white. His lips were slightly parted, as if he were about to say something. Instead, his face inched closer and closer.

Morgan's lips brushed against my own in a brief, somewhat chaste kiss.

"What was that for?" I murmured, unable to form a coherent thought.

A couple of seconds passed, the two of us staring at each-other, and it was clear Morgan had no intention to explain his actions. His expression didn't change when the next sentence fell from his lips.

"I'm the Devil."

I shuffled back, furrowing my brows.

"Wh-What?"

"I'm the Devil. Satan. Lucifer. And every couple of decades, I come down to Earth to escape. Twenty-two years ago, I met a woman by the name of Janine Wilde. We had a relationship- purely physical. And, when I returned to Hell, I caught wind of Janine's child. My child."

The heat drained from my face and fingertips. My mind seemed to only play back white noise. I just stared back at him blankly. Then, I erupted into a howl of laughter. Wiping tears from the corner of my eyes, I tried to collect myself.

"Have you been shitting me this whole time?"

He stared. Not even a blink.

"The product of a human and an angel is more powerful than anything you can comprehend. She's a kind of mixture between a siren and a succubus." Morgan said.

"You're serious."

"Deadly. Look, she's dangerous, Nora. I'm here to stop her."

"Stop her?"

"From hurting anyone. Turning 21 brings new power. My dear daughter is basically a Black Widow. She'll try to sleep with everyone and any one and she'll succeed. And then they'll die."

"Hannah isn't a Black Widow. She's just a confident woman who... enjoys some male company. She doesn't even believe in God. Or Satan for that matter."

"She doesn't have to! It's in her blood. Her black blood. All she knows is that she needs to seduce. She gets more and more power from each soul she reaps."

I gave an ironic laugh.

"So, now she's the Grim Reaper, eh?"

"No. She's a Nephilim. And, now that she's 21, she will try to fuck anyone in sight."

"You're insane." I said, getting up and edging towards the door.

"I told you you wouldn't believe me." He mumbled, scratching through his stubble.

"Believe you? I'm surprised you believe yourself! You're fucking deluded!"

"How dare you!" He growled, now standing too.

"Oh, my apologies, King of Hell, did I insult you?"

"Don't you condescend me, Dearie, or I think you'll find yourself without a head."

I let out another laugh.

"That's right- you're the Devil! All you have to do is snap your fingers and I'll burst into flames, right?"

"Right." He spat through clenched teeth.

I backed out of his room and into the kitchen to grab myself another beer. Only, Morgan followed.

"Y'know," I scoffed, snapping the lid from my bottle, "I bet Vivienne didn't even cheat on you. I bet she left you because you're fucking insane."

"Shut up!" He roared, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

"Does she know?" I continued, "Does she know that you're Satan?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, she fucking does. You wanna know why?"

"Oh, do enlighten me, Lucifer."

"Because I brought her back to life! 1975, I found her stabbed in some alley. Bad drug deal or some shit. No colour in her face. No pulse. No nothing. You know what I did?"

"What?"

"I went down to Hell and pulled her back out! You wanna know why I could do that?"

"Why?"

"Because I own the fucking place!"

"Bullshit."

I swigged the rest of my beer, before storming to my room and pulling a bag from my wardrobe.

"What are you doing?" Morgan questioned, quieter but still with an edge to his tone.

"I'm gonna pick Hannah up and I'm gonna stay at hers the night."

"Oh no you're bloody not!"

"Oh, yes I am! And by the time I get back here tomorrow, I want you and your shit out!"

I turned for the door, my bag slung over my shoulder, only to be blocked by an arm. I clenched my jaw, before jerking my knee up into his crotch. Morgan barely flinched at a motion that would've had any other man doubled over on the floor in pain. Instead of questioning this, I exploited his smugness as a distraction, and ducked under. He seemed to appear in the living-room, somehow getting there before me without passing me, and stood, arms folded over his chest by the door like a bouncer.

"Move." I said calmly, but assertively.

"You're not to see Hannah again."

I scoffed.

"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do, hm?"

I edged closer to him, having to crane my neck to look up at him.

"I'm the Devil."

"And I'm the Pope. Be gone evil spirit, blah blah blah..."

"I'm the Devil."

"No!" I yelled, "You're just a random psycho who somehow convinced me to let him stay in my house. Biggest regret of my life!"

He face became an alarming shade of red and he began to quake.

"I'M NOT A PSYCHOPATH!" He erupted, before raising his clenched fist.

I flinched and winced, expecting a blow to the face. Instead, there was a large crash coming from behind me. When I could finally bring myself to peel open my eyes, Morgan was there with his fist, elbow-deep into the wall besides the door.

"What do you think you're d-"

I was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

"Police. Open the door. We've received a number of complaints about the noise and concerns for domestic abuse."