Of Devils, Angels, and Heartbreak

Pants, commie angels, and a great first date

Six hundred years later

Alfred F. Jones, the king of hell, opened his electric blue eyes. The sweetdevil shrugged on a bomber jacket with slits in the back, unfurling his wings, as dark as the side of the moon. Running his long fingers through his ink black hair with one cowlick and over the large horns protruding from his head, the king grinned at his reflection in the mirror. "Another day of justice~" He sang, putting on a pair of wire rimmed glasses. He strolled through the gates of his pallace, looking at the fires where the damned were sent to pay for their sins.

"Bonjour!"

"Guten tag!"

"Hola Alfred!"

Three voices chimed from behind Alfred in three different languages. Alfred's friends and most trusted advisors. The first was a French demon named Francis Bonnefoy. Francis often joked that he was sent to hell for being "too attractive". He was undeniably beautiful, with long blond hair from which his horns delicately curled from, sparkling blue eyes, tall and lean. Francis died sometime during the reign of terror, and still had a faint scar from where his head was chopped off. The second was a Prussian demon named Gilbert Beilschmidt, who was killed for being an albino sometime in the middle ages. Loud, slightly arrogant, he was the one Alfred trusted the most. The last was Antonio Fernández Carriedo, a kind and always happy Spaniard. Those who did not know of his past often wondered how such a kind and caring person ended up in hell. Antonio was a privateer who conquered everything in his path, and was killed in a battle with the English ships.

Alfred sighed as he thought about how people often thought of them. Not all demons were bad, and not all angels were good. Some devils could be kind and well meaning, and some angels could be cruel beyond belief.

"Vhat's up vith zhe sad face?" Gilbert questioned, slinging an arm over his king's shoulder.

"Just thinking of past events. I was thinking of taking a trip to the human world, can you check if it's nice out there? I do NOT want to be struck by lightning again."

"On it amigo!" Antonio chirped, beginning to run out of the room. "New England or Texas this time?"

"New England."

Francis rolled his eyes and sighed, taking his cellphone out of his pocket. Hell had surprisingly good reception. "Vraiment? (Really) zere iz somezing called technology for zis."

"Hey give us a break Francy-pants jou are zhe youngest one here!" Gilbert protested, also rolling his eyes at Antonio's forgetfulness. "I'll go get him before he flies into zhe fire. AGAIN." he added, striding off in search of Antonio.

"No lightning today." Francis reported. Alfred nodded in thanks, spreading his wings and launching himself up into the hot air of hell. The rush of air flattened his hair against his head as he flew higher and faster up to the human world, taking a moment to observe the size of his kingdom.

Alfred burst through a shadow on the side of a boulder, taking the time to observe the beautiful scenery of the New England forests. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of pine and nature. No matter how many centuries passed, this forest remained the same, and Alfred was grateful for it. He was having a great time unwinding and enjoying the moment. That is, until someone shoved him from behind.

"Aha!" A triumphant voice cried out. "Freeze demon of the kingdom below on my authority! You are trespassing on the mortal realm and shall be punished!"

Beneath the angel's foot, lying sprawled on his stomach, the king of hell could only think a couple things. A, who the hell was this angel, B, did this angel know who he was, and C, he was going to have to have a long chat with the king of heaven for this.