The Demon

Chapter Three- IDK what to name this yet

*A/N Oops. Whats this? Another chapter? From the author that is questioning why you came this far? No wayyyyyyyyyy.*

She was at the top of what she did, known as the best demon slayer in the industry. People looked up to her. Heads turned when she walked into work. She was unbeatable. And she knew it too. You could tell by the subtle gleam in her green eyes. The ones that fit so perfectly with her light freckles on her cheeks and her deep tan and flawless skin. You could tell in her posture, how she strode with confidence in her worn out leather boots. She was a killer.

This time, she had been assigned an undercover mission. A demonic presence had been spotted in (insert name of town). It is her job to find the source, eliminate it, and make sure no human finds out. It was simple. She was used to this kind of work. And more.

"Agent 70, are you prepared for operation 403?"

"Yes sir."

~~~~~

"So how'd it go?"

Maurice flung himself onto the couch just as Mikkel hurriedly moved out of the way. This went in to rather unexpected territory as Maurice accidentally hit his head against the wall and screeched like an actual bald eagle(when you hear an eagle cry with all those American videos, it's not actually an eagle, it's a red tailed hawk so an eagle screech is very different and is pretty pathetic). He fell to the ground dramatically, yelling "Monty my boy! Save me!"

Mikkel squeaked, Alby's face contorted in confusion and Maurice died on the floor.

"What was that?"

Maurice groaned. "It was ruined. Ruined!"

Alby tilted his head to the side.

"What's ruined?"

"The thing, sweetheart, the thing."

Mikkel shared a look with his friend before asking, "What thing?"

"I was gonna slide in, flop on the couch, dramatically cry into the cushion, and then say that it went horrible," the demon answered in a whiny voice.

"So it went well?"

"Yeah! Fan flippin'tastic. They said they'd email me this week."

"That soon?" The Russian boy inquired.

"You betcha!"

"That...that's great!" Alby commented.

And it was great. On Thursday, Maurice got the job. He worked at the local café called 'Espresso Patronum'. Nerdy, I'll admit but it's also rather creative. Around three weeks later a new girl showed up as well.

"So um...how long have you worked here?" "Three weeks. Not too long, I know but I think I got everything down." Maurice said confidently. "Have they shown you the routine?"

"Yep, though I'm still a little nervous. I'm Michelle by the way."

"Oh really? I saw that name tag but you never can trust those." He answered good naturedly. "I'm Maurice."

Michelle had green eyes with deep tan skin and freckles. 'Pretty', the taller thought, but not his type(he liked people of culture. The ones with hives that lined their demonic faces).

"So do you go to school here?" She asked as he started opening up the shop to customers.

"Nah. School wasn't a big thing for me. I could never pay attention," he improvised.

He may not have gone to human school but he'd been to the schools in hell. They always teach you about human culture, always pointing out the flaws. She was rather biased, his teacher. She went to earth once, during World War II. She told everyone about how she had been on a mission with twenty others to figure out the amount of people they should be expecting in the next ten to twenty years. They each were assigned different areas. You could never shut her up about what she saw in Auschwitz and all the other concentration camps. She'd go on for hours about how deeply flawed humanity was. How they deserve all the torture they get. That's coming from a demon. She was a little impressed, as you can tell. Maurice had always been one of the lesser demons. In the eyes of his brethren, he was weaker than them, but you see, in hell, the more emotion you show, the more vulnerable you are to becoming something...else, something they never talked about but knew instinctively that it wasn't good. He ultimately, though he kept it to himself, thought the humans weren't too bad. They made great music, their food was to die for, and the amount of weird crap they produced every year was astounding. Yes, he quite liked them. That's why he took human classes.

"Oh that's a shame. I actually moved here a little while ago with my uh...boyfriend."

"Cool, cool."

He wasn't too interested in her though she could make a killer cup of hot cocoa. 

~~~~~

The room was consumed by a blanket of darkness. The only light coming from behind the musty curtains and from her glowing reading glasses as she looked down upon the thick folder of paperwork.

"Agent 70, how is everything on your side?" Came a voice from a small gray circular communicator that sat atop a moldy brown dresser.

"Satisfactory in my opinion. I have easily integrated myself into their society. Nobody suspects a thing."

"Good, good." The man muttered in a gravelly voice. "The trace only lasted a few seconds so we aren't for sure on where it is but we know it came from the East side of town." He let out a deafening cough. "If we find a more secure answer, we'll let you know. Keep up the good work Agent 70."

"Of course, sir-"

The communicator turned off and her cheap motel room was plunged back into the pre-call silence. She didn't mind though. It helped her think. Voices voices voices. That's all you heard back at the office. It was nice to be out on a job. To finally get some fresh air. She realized rather quickly though, at this time, if she didn't sleep now, she'd be exhausted the next day. She'd already pulled an all nighter. And she didn't want to miss out on Maurices stupidly hilarious commentary on the customers, acting as if it was a nature documentary.

*A/N Hehehe. Why am I doing this? Good luck!*