The Fallen Angel

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sharia_kags4 (ao3)

  The Devil was an Angel. He was God's favorite. He fell to Hell for being different. No one can love the Devil. But can someone love a Fallen Angel? 

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 "Please stop," the boy whimpered. He was cowering against the wall, trying to make himself appear smaller to the monster that stood before him. His knees were to his chest, hands clenched over his head, as if it could protect him.

The figure laughed at his attempt.

"It won't work. You can never hide from me, little one," he said, running a finger down the boy's face.

The boy flinched, shivering when he felt how cold his hand was. He struggled to open his eyes, to dare and look into the other's. He found himself unable to, as if a force was there to keep them shut.

"W-why me?" he asked, not able to comprehend why he was chosen. "T-there are plenty of other candidates, are there not? Ones who are far better than I in skill?"

"While there are those whose skills surpass yours, there is something you have that I want," the figure replied. "Something only you have. And I will not stop until it-you are mine."

He laughed, and it wasn't something the boy would ever forget. It was loud, echoing throughout the room that held the two of them. It resonated from the figure's throat, making it sound forced, as it he had said something funny but seemed to realize that it wasn't in the end.

The laughter hurt the boy's head, making him scream in pain as it pierced his mind, the sound embedding into his memory. He could barely make out the figure's words before he began to black out.

"Remember me little one. I'm coming back for you."
~
Kyungsoo sighed as people made way for him, not wanting to be near him, but at the same time, wanting to be close to him because of his position.

He walked down the path, shivering in the cold as he had not received his fur coat for the month yet, the only thing covering him being a flimsy leather skirt; one that was common for women to wear in his village.

He had grown used to being treated as a woman, as he was chosen by the Devil.

It had been ten years since he had that dream, the one that changed his life. After he woke up, he found himself surrounded by his family, looks of sadness and awe on their faces. He was no longer able to play with the boys, having to learn how to sew with the girls. Luckily, he was still able to sing, as it was seen as both a male and female activity. So was learning to cook and taking care of children.

"Hello," a voice said.

Kyungsoo looked down, surprised to see a young girl standing before him. He smiled and knelt down.

The girl looked away, blushing when he handed her a flower from the basket he was holding.

"Thank you," she said, running away, giggling as she did so.

He smiled and continued down the path. The closer he got to his house, the more people greeted him. He merely smiled at them, not using his voice.

He was often told that he should save his voice for the Devil. He didn't understand what that meant, but he did as he was told, not having spoken a word since the age of seven, when the dream came to him.

He entered his house, the buildings having no door on them, but merely a fabric to block out the sun or rain if it was too much.

Kyungsoo sighed sadly when he set his things down. It had been a little over a year when his mom died, his father dying when he was an infant. He's been a lone ever since, but he tries not to let that get to him.

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