The Witch's Toy ✔

21: the music of poverty

"Samael," I acknowledged, hands balling at both my sides in an effort not to show just how afraid I was of him. It didn't work though; my body still shook, trembling as I instinctively took another step back.

"Ah, so the witch knows my God-given name," he said, grin stretching even wider. Samael's head swiveled around on his shoulders before stopping at the front. He lifted it up at a forty-five degree angle, shadows from the night and moonlight playing across his sharpened features. When his eyes traveled up to mine, they flattened and pulled into crescents, sharpening to points at both sides. I shivered. "But I would much rather be known as 'Jackie Boy' as the Madame always calls me that." He laughed, a soft chuckle starting at his throat before bubbling up to the surface.

I swallowed, suddenly unable to move. I was stuck in place as if the grass underneath had slowly inched up my feet and latched around my ankles like fetters.

He looked hysterical, brows coming together as the black in his eyes bled into the whites surrounding it. The laughs stopped abruptly, silence filling the air. When he threw his head back over his shoulders, my eyes widened.

Tears had formed in his eyes and now they were rolling down his face in dark rivulets, outlining the curve of his cheek before plopping from his chin down to the grass. A look of anguish slowly crawled across his entire face, darkening it to an overcast of gray clouds. "Uriel," he whispered, voice quivering. Hands shaking uncontrollably, he brought them up to his face, smearing the dark tears across his cheeks with long, slender fingers. "Uriel, I can't take it anymore."

His image wavered in front of me, switching from his form as the Jack in the Box to a tall man with black hair and dark eyes.

Still grounded, I didn't move as he advanced toward me. He halted when there was a breath's distance before us, boxed feet touching the tips of my white trainers.

I couldn't speak; my jaw wouldn't work.

And somehow, my heart was squeezing painfully, aching because of the expression on his face. Samael was sobbing at this point, his tears like thick black paint over his already blackened face.

All his resolve was gone.

There was a twinge if guilt in his eyes — a bit of remorse. For what he'd done in the past or what he was going to do, I didn't know. "I'm sorry, my lady, but this is the only way." Without hesitation, he lifted his hand over his head.

The last thing I remembered was the sound of thunder overhead and a crack that echoed through my skull. Pain blossomed at my cheek, splitting my lip until I could taste the metallic tang of blood through the small opening of my mouth. Then, the world faded to darkness.

•••

"Samael?" I repeated, looking up at Maalik. "Who's Samael?"

He grinned like he was about to play a prank. "A demon like me, but one who's more on the mysterious side. He doesn't really share his thoughts with many people and declines any invitation to fun and games. The only thing good about him is the fact that he can play piano."

"Maalik!" Azazel glared at him so sharply I thought he'd might as well have been stabbing him with two knives. "Yu Rui doesn't have to know what a demon is."

Maalik shrugged it off, crouching down to my eye-level. "Yu Rui, dear, you know already, don't you? That there's something black and fuzzy around me."