Don Vasco, the blonde son of the fallen angel Azazel, made a deal to live on earth in exchange to be the agent of hell.
He lived through battles-let it be war between Heaven and Hell or World wars, the internal battle he endured from the deaths of t...
I suggest you put your wattpad reading mode on night/dark mode. It's better that way ;-) ---------------
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was a frigid Friday night in Hecksville, dark clouds spawned the silent alleyway in the dead of night. Out of the vanishing smoke stepped a blonde man in a black velvet suit with a red silk tie. As he dusted off his attire, he checked his appearance on the glass window of a closed shop.
While smiling at his reflection, he caught a glimpse of a club's mirrored image.
It flashed their neon pink sign, beckoning youth to come in and get wasted.
"Maybe I could check it out and see it's patrons," He uttered to himself.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He approached a poster that advertised a band. It made his eyes ache from the poster's overuse of neon and thought it must be the new local fad. The band poster was near the people in the entrance. Some waited silently on their phones while others babble with their friends.
Ignoring their glares, he skipped the line of strangers. A bouncer gripped on his shoulder and scanned him with furrowed brows.
"Wait right there, bucko. What's your name?" The muscular bouncer asked as he pushed the newcomer away.
"Don Vasco," He replied, shoving off the bouncer's hand before showing his ID.
"You are not on the VIP list," The bouncer said, crossing his arms and suspiciously squinting his eyes.
Don shook his head and insisted, "You must be mistaken. Do check again."
He snapped his fingers downwards and pointed to the list.
The bouncer scanned the list. His eyebrow rose when he saw the name, right in the middle. His serious facial expression faded into an apologetic look.
"I see. Come in," The bouncer said resignedly as he unhooked the velvet rope. "Sorry for the mistake."
Don shrugged his shoulders and smiled amicably as he patted the guard's right shoulder, "No worries. It happens to the best of us." As soon as he entered, he chuckled to himself as he adjusted his coat. "Sucker."
He scouted the dim hallway. Seizure-inducing colorful bright lights and the silhouettes of young adults indulging in alcohol and chatting came into his view. He pushed through the sweaty crowd to be close enough to the stage.
While he fixed his formal attire, He did a double-take and noticed he was the only one wearing a black suit, while all the other patrons wore colorful eighties themed outfits.
A male drunkard jostled Don and muttered before he staggered off, "Get out of my way."
Don looked around and snapped his fingers. A girl's drink fell from her hands by an unknown force and it spilled on the ground. The drunkard slid on the vinyl floor and hit his head on the nearby counter. The crowd casually glanced and chuckled in surprise as the drunk teenager groaned in pain.
Don made a subtle and satisfied grin before walking towards the stage to watch the band.
