"Semi-Short Stories" [ Story Collection ]

Father Issues [] 11/11 []

"Draco...you didn't."

The blond, almost-blond, can't look at Matthew. Instead, he keeps his eyes trained to his now bandaged hand. He cried. He's not crying now, but he cried when it happened. His face is stained with his tears.

"Tell me you didn't."

"That would be lying. And that isn't good for a relationship, Belial." Samson is cleaning a blade, black and reflective, with a rag. The rag is a deep red, so it's difficult to the see blood. But they all know it's there.

"...Draco—"

"He did it for you. And for himself, I'm sure. He traded his soul for an equally important rank as you. So you'll be together when you pass. Isn't it sweet?" He exchanges a look with his son, and shrugs. He returns the knife to its box. "Well, I think it is. You'll be grateful later, but don't be upset with him now. He did what was best."

"What was 'best'? This just...this just doubles the problem!" With his newfound facial expressions, Matthew looks almost hysterical. Why did they even come back here? He didn't need to know about his soul that badly. At the least, he should have come alone.

"Don't be dramatic."

"Dramatic! Dramatic! You're the one— You're the— You're the one—" Matthew covers his mouth with his hand. He's trying to calm himself. There's no use in accidentally triggering an episode, maybe not one of hallucinations or delusions, but one of uncontrollable speech patterns. He takes several deep breaths. He speaks slowly. "You're the one who carved a pentagram into my hand."

"I didn't do that. You did."

"There's no way I did that myself!"

"But there is. Draco did it too, would you like to see?" He steps towards Draco. Matthew blocks his path, having stepped between them.

"No, I don't want to see! I want it reversed!" Matthew barely hears a tiny 'I'm sorry' from behind him.

"For the last time, it can't be reversed. You both made your choice, and that choice is final. Sealed in your blood. The only one who can undo the seal is our Lord himself, and I have a feeling that he doesn't intend to do that." Samson takes a seat in his sinister Dad chair. "I really don't see why you want to undo it. Don't you see how much your getting out of this? High ranks. Honor. You'll essentially be deities. Why reverse it?"

"Because we don't want this. We don't want to become some fake deities, we don't want the so-called devil to have the rights to our souls, we don't—"

Samson calmly interrupts. "You see, this is where I don't understand... What do you mean by 'fake' deities? And the 'so-called' devil? Why bother trying to reverse the deals you've made if you don't believe that you've made them? From what I'm hearing, you shouldn't be worried about this. With your logic, the only thing you've lost is a bit of blood, and the only thing you gained is a new scar upon your palm. So tell me, boys...if you don't believe, why are you here? To insult me? To insult my Lord? If that's all, then I suggest you leave." When he doesn't get an immediate response, he continues. "But what I believe to be true is this...you do believe, but you don't want to accept it. You don't want to accept something you've been trying so desperately to avoid. My Lord is given such a bad name...at this point, no one wants to accept Him. No one wants to think about Him. He's 'bad', isn't He? Is that the problem, Belial? Draco? He's scary. Evil. But has He ever done anything to either of you?" He's stood, beginning to pace. He does that often. "He hasn't. He just told me so Himself. So why is it that you're so unwilling to accept the facts that you know to be true?"

Matthew is still speaking slowly. Slowly but surely. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Are you really going to challenge Him this—" He pauses abruptly. His expression changes: frustration, confusion, fear, intrigue. "Well. Alright. If that's what it takes, Belial. He says He accepts your challenge."

The hair on the back of his neck stands up. Matthew's hand throbs again. Draco, feeling small due to what he'd just endured, hides behind Matthew. "Yeah? Then where is He? I don't see Him."

"You're not looking very hard. You haven't even turned around."

Directly behind Matthew and Draco towers a man of at least 6'6. Hah. His hair is as black as can be, and it's tied into a short ponytail. His eyes are red, which is only emphasized by the lighting. From either side of his head sprouts large horns like that of a ram — they seem to be polished.

"Don't you watch movies? The big scary guy always appears behind the ones who are looking for him or doubt that he's there. In this case, it seems to be both. I'm disappointed, honestly."

Samson is the only one of the three able to speak. "My Lord. How lovely to see You again."

"Samson. Yes. If only the situation were more favorable." He sighs. "You were much easier to persuade. If only I'd chosen you as the antichrist from the beginning."

This brings such a smile to the man's face. He nods. "A shame."

He, Lucifer, steps towards Matthew and takes his chin in one large hand. His nails are sharp. "Well. Do you believe me now, Belial?"

Matthew nods. He thinks he does, at least. It seems sufficient enough for him to drop his grip and move to Draco, who immediately slinks further behind Matthew. Lucifer seems to decide that he isn't worth the trouble at the moment.

"Samson, you've done your best with your son..."

"I have."

"But it seems that he needs more forceful direction."

"I believe You're right."

"I'll work on him myself." He eyes Matthew, who can't look at him for long. "Whether he wants me to or not."

"I understand completely, Sir. My home is always welcome to You."

"Not necessary, but appreciated. I'll see you both again, very soon." And just like that, he's gone. Samson looks very, very pleased.

"Well?"

Matthew struggles for words.

"I think I want to go home."