Somewhere I Belong - Bennoda

Chapter 05

Observation: Phrases in italics are dialogues that have happened in the past.

They spent the night in the woods. The angel ended up sleeping in Chester's arms, and the man stood all night looking at Michael and wondering how he got into this mess. He had a literal angel in his arms, one of his enemies, just another blind angel who thought the devil was to blame for everything, just another naive boy. If they knew how much they were being manipulated, they might turn against God. Maybe they would be kicked out of paradise just like him. Maybe they would just cry like big babies who just got their feelings hurt. The demon laughed ironically at the thought. For Chester, feelings are the most stupid and grossly annoying thing he has ever seen. People weep for love, anger, fear, sadness, and that just didn't make sense to the devil. Is crying good for them? Does it make them feel better? Did they like that? Or are they just too weak to avoid crying? Chester would never cry. That's weak. It's stupid, too dumb for him.

Chester definitely didn't understand much about humans and their troubled feelings. He knew the anger, as when his Father kicked him out of heaven, or when he has his limits tested. He also knew pleasure, like when he'd had a ménage with those hot Russian blondes about five months ago, or when that Spanish man was his submissive for weeks and did everything Chester asked. He sighed, remembering the sensation of pleasure, and his remnant of anger was gradually disappearing. But then, there were the other feelings he would just never know. Happiness, love, fear, true fulfillment. What did that mean, anyway? What does it mean to be happy when you live in hell? How to love someone when you don't know what love is? How to feel fear if you are the King of Darkness? When you are what people fear, there is no reason to waste time thinking about the worst, after all you are the worst. Sometimes Chester imagined he had some kind of accomplishment after he tortured a bad soul or when he spent his millions dollars on expensive works of art just to burn them later. But, he always wondered if this was actually an achievement. To him, it just seemed empty. Everything just seemed very empty. Chester closed his eyes, trying to stop his anger from returning. He stretched one of his arms forward and set fire to his right hand. He watched the fire in his hand as it danced gracefully and burned in fury. The flames of fire invaded his fingers, corroded his soul angrily and made him smile. Any simple and innocent insect that flew by was instantly burned, the fire was very intense. Some leaves fell from the tree and fed the fire, which grew more and more, making the demon's smile grow larger. The destruction, the power, everything was in his hand and that was fucking exciting for him. Chester felt Michael cling closer to him, entwining his hands behind Chester's neck. The man lowered his hand at once, making the fire disappear. He rubbed his right hand on the tree so that any trace of fire would burn the wood and not the lovely angel in his arms. Then he finally brought his right hand to the boy's back and unconsciously caressed it. Michael murmured something as he slept and shook Chester affectionately. The devil didn't know exactly how to act, so he just smiled and kissed the boy's head. That wouldn't change anything, right? They'd stop seeing each other soon, when Michael finds out who Chester is, so it doesn't matter what happened here. It doesn't matter if, maybe, just maybe, Chester was feeling something for the boy. It doesn't matter because the boy will go away soon. Right? It doesn't matter if Michael is hugging him passionately, it doesn't matter if Chester kissed his head or if he smiles honestly at the boy. None of this will matter in a few days. Right?

Wrong. The men came to see each ot[her a lot after this meeting. They felt the need to see each other, simply because they understood each other in a way that never happened before. Michael had never connected with anyone that way. He loved all the human beings around him, but as brothers. As if he had to protect all humans, as if he were an older brother with billions of younger siblings to whom he felt responsible. He felt that he ought to be the example to those creatures and teach them the best way to go through everything, and that was all. But with the man it was different. He didn't feel the need to be exemplary or angelic or perfect. He was just himself. Michael felt so happy with the man, so naturally and blindly realized.