The Gray Area

Chapter Ten

"What do you want?" he asked casually, tone bored.

Morte knew one of his brothers would come but didn't expect Santy, the eldest, to be the one who'd show up.

"Aren't you pleased to see me, little brother?" Like Morte, his brother Santy was as beautiful as him only bulkier and his body was covered with what looked like tribal lines tattoo.

"Not really, Santino."

"See, I came here to remind you of your old same antics." With a swoosh, Santy pinned Morte to the ground, their faces four inches apart. He didn't see that coming and he was caught off guard. "Your stubbornness is killing me."

"Glad to know I affect you," he replied with a glare.

"First," Santy ignored his comment. "You did magic knowing you aren't allowed to use it. Second, you saved a girl- a human girl."

"So?" He knew right then he was in trouble. Saving human wasn't acceptable. Not buts and ifs- plain fucking period.

"Father wasn't happy to hear it all, baby brother," Santy replied. "It makes me want to kill the girl."

"It's not her time yet!" Morte retorted, pissed to hear his brother's words. His temper was getting the best of him and he was now struggling to push his brother away from him.

Santy released him as they both stood up, the air getting thick and heavy. "Oh, are you God?"

"I am Death!" he hissed as he tried to look taller than his brother.

Santy nodded and looked away from Morte. When he turned to him again, he launched himself so fast that Morte hadn't got the time to dodge and found himself being pinned down to the ground again. His brother's arm choked him hard and fighting him off in that position was no use. Santy was stronger than him. He always was.

"And you should always remind yourself that you're Death! For a moment there I feel like you wanted to be as high as God!"

"I wanted to be as high as father!" his tone screeched.

"Bullshit!" Santy exclaimed and leaned closer to his brother. "And they said that I'm the king of possession. Look at you, talking like another demon has possessed you. You can't be as high as Lucifer. He'll condemn you- just as God had condemned him!"

Morte didn't know how but he bucked his brother off of him. "The closest condemnation Dad could do to me is to chop my wings off."

"He will. And I'll be the one to do it." There was a poison in Santy's tone and Morte could tell that it wasn't an empty threat.

"Oh, afraid it's me who's gonna be crowned king?" Morte mocked, devilish grin on his face. "I'm not afraid of you."

Santy stared at him, long and hard. "Maybe you're not." He then turned at his back, ready to leave. "But one day you'll be begging on your knees."

"Fuck you." Then Santy was gone.

Rage filled Morte's senses, his hands balled into tight fists. He knew he got into trouble. And with his selfishness, he brought trouble to Vita too.

The moment he defended her, he knew he exposed himself, more accurately, he exposed his weakness. And demons could feel it... And they would definitely use it.

****

Vita woke up at three in the morning. After a while, her clock turned 3:01.

She didn't know what happened. Still contemplating if it was just a dream, a hallucination, illusion or just an imagination in her head- she couldn't pinpoint what.

But she knew she was with Morte. It was alarming, actually. Being with a devil was not something she should tolerate. It was hard to throw a 'no' at him, something she should do but couldn't. After all, she's just human, easily deceived and tempted. But an inner voice inside told her that there was nothing bad about it. He didn't harm her so far and even saved her life once.

She felt safe at the same time in danger, if only that made sense. But that was the thing- none of it all made sense. She didn't know what to make of it.

How could she stop the devil if she was letting him enter her life, allowing him to consume her?

Now she started to wonder if she was really the one to carry the mission set by the angel. The mission set by Him.

But how? Morte's too powerful. You couldn't dictate a dictator.

"This is getting stressful," Vita sighed.

****

Morte was at the exit gate of the school where Vita works. An angel appeared, her white silky dress smelled sunshine.

"You have to stop this," she uttered.

"Since when do we started talking to each other, angel?" Morte asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Since you keep on stalking Vita."

He thought for a moment. "Ooohhh, you're her angel, I get it."

"Leave her, devil."

"Why you're not with her all the time?" he asked with a mocking tone. "With all the things I did, why you're just turning up now? Come to think of it, I already give my position away, many times, but no angel seems interested to chase me."

"We don't answer questions especially from the likes of you."

"That hurt," he replied nonchalantly. Then he took a sigh. "Where's your sword? Aren't you gonna fight me?"

"I order you- "

"I don't take orders, dumb angel," he hissed. "Fight me if you want me to leave her the fuck alone."

A blinding light ignited as an archangel appeared. "Let me fight you."

"Gabriel," Morte said at the newcomer. "It's getting serious then, for an archangel to enter a scene like this."

Gabriel, who has as perfect beauty as the other angels, looked fierce as he face Lucifer's son. He drew his tall shiny sword, posed for a fight.

Though it hurt as fuck, Morte released his wings, his indifference evident. The two angels gasped at it, obviously fixated. But it didn't last long, Gabriel step back, ready to launch himself into battle.

Then they collided as a roar of thunder hit the sky, gray clouds started to form above them. Gabriel, one of the most trusted messenger and warrior by God, was flawless when it comes to battling the devils. Morte respected that fact, he respected that some creatures were stronger than him but it wasn't going to stop him from fighting.

He was Death, for fuck's sake. He wasn't afraid of himself. He was battling to buy some time for Vita, a little more time for him to be with her.

Morte was brave, full of pride and greedy. He would do anything to get what he wanted. One way or another.

As he teleported from one place to another, Gabriel followed, tracking him like a dog. The archangel's strength seemed not to waver, eager to destroy the youngest prince of hell. Morte dodged another hit from Gabriel as he escaped, this time though, he escaped for real.