Of Devils, Angels, and Heartbreak

The day it all began...

"Run!" A demon with hair as black as the night and eyes filled with flames roared. A young child with electric blue eyes and small horns cried, burying his face in his father's chest. The young demon was dressed in the clothes of an angel baby, only about a century old. The elder demon took the hand of a female angel that was running beside them, the cloak hiding her wings and white robes flapping in the wind.

"Demons! O'er there!" The human villagers called, the flicker of their torches casting shadows of the weapons they carried, the enraged calls echoing around the forest. The trio stumbled into a dead end, the small clearing blocked by walls of stone. The king of hell roared in frustration, casting aside his own robe to reveal enormous wings. The child only cried harder, hearing the humans come closer. The demon gathered his son in his arms and prepared to spring up into the air and fly away.

"Wait!" the cry of the angel stopped him, and he turned to her, only to fall to the ground in pain. The child fell out of his father's secure arms and tumbled to the clearing edge, where he watched the sight with horrified eyes.

"Augh! Why?!" the boy's demon father screamed at his angel mother, who stood, a vial in her hand. The vial glowed vivid green, and was filled with the only substance known to kill or weaken strong demons. A couple drops dripped down her hand as she put the bottle back into the folds of her robe. The demon king rolled onto his back, where hissing and steaming burns could be seen. "How could you betray us?!" he yelled, trying to stand but failing, writhing around in agony.

"You don't understand James!" the angel cried, her tone panicked. "If they find me here I won't be let back into heaven!"

"IS THAT WORTH BETRAYING YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILD?!" James roared, rising to his knees, inky blood pouring from his wounds. "IS IT? AMELIA HOW DARE YOU!"

Amelia cast aside her disguise and let her feathery wings unfurl, the tears that were pouring from her eyes quickly drying. "MY FELLOW PURE, THERE IS A BEING FROM HELL HERE!" she called out, voice strong and melodic. The villagers heard her, and rushed into the clearing, surrounding them. "I HAVE WEAKENED HIM WITH MY POWERS, YOU MAY NOW BURN HIM."

"No!" the child cried out, his scream lost in the noise of the mob. He watched in horror as his father was fed to the flames, heard his screams as the closest being to immortal died. He sobbed, hiding in the bushes, wings curled above his head for protection. The bush was suddenly pulled back, and a villager grabbed the boy by the back of his nightgown, holding him high above his head.

"Angel, there's another one here! How do we kill it?"

"Mommy help me!" The young demon cried, locking eyes with his mother from across the clearing. She looked back with no remorse in her eyes, even as the mob grew impatient.

"This one is weak. Stabbing should do the trick." She instructed, handing a sword to the leader. They cried out for blood and attacked, hacking at the small body. After the deed was done, they turned around and left, following Amelia back to the village.

The boy curled around the blade in his gut, feeling his strength slowly return. A sweetdevil, the result of an angel's and a demon's love, mortal weapons could not hurt him. He lay in the dirt until the sun began to paint the sky, his wounds healing. A sudden pain jolted through his body, and he pulled away the sleeve of his nightgown to see a black mark in the shape of crossed swords on his wrist. He knew what this meant. He was the new king of hell. His eyes sparked with fury, a look so strong on a face so young. Alfred F. Jones would never forget the day he became king, and the day he felt the cruelty of an angel.