The Angel with Black Hair

Chapter 6: We Were Always Meant To Meet, Mate

[Revised Version]

"I remember. I remember the days when you were new to me. And I was new to you too." ~Francois Klark

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Back to the start, the surroundings had only Darkness to offer. But the Devil could only be used to it. The trees were high, their branches thick enough to shield the forest ground from the infuriating Sunlight above. His strides were wrathful and decisive. Yet, their direction was unknown. It had never happened before. He always knew His aim, His Quarries each time visible at the end of the road.

Not this time.

This time, His legs had a mind of their own.

This time His rationality was spellbound. And the Hex had the form of a melody His Indolent Heart couldn't simply let go of.

Captive - it seemed that He was to that voice. It had pulled Him from His Realm, numbing His senses - calling His name. No one could. No one had that Power. No one up until then had managed to force Him to do anything - to summon Him.

He was Curious.

At least, He had convinced Himself that He was.

He had to find the Owner of that Force - that Siren. So He could eliminate it once and for all. To have that kind of Power over the Devil - was something beyond Dangerous. It was Madness. An Imbecility He could never tolerate.

"All of this seems like a Dream. Don't try to disappear." He reached a point where the trees were slowly starting to become sporadic. The Sun got a chance to sneak among them. And the Devil didn't like it. When He stopped by the end of the trees as the Bright Daylight had blinded Him, all He could feel was that hypnotic voice in his bones. "Is it true? Is it true? You, you, you are so beautiful that I'm scared."

His brows struck in a deep frown, creating wrinkles in the space between them. The Sun, the scenery, that voice - were getting under His skin, in His nerves. That ridiculous scene unfolding in front of Him had to stop. An endless Meadow of bright green grass and flowers of all colors, with several Stray Butterflies everywhere here and there and other tiny Fluffy Animals in it - that was a sight the Devil had to admit that He had eight millenniums to see. "Will you stay by my side? Will you promise me? If I let go of your hand, you will fly away and break. I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared of that."

He hadn't missed it - not exactly. But it hadn't passed indifferently to Him back then - the same as now. He couldn't say that pretty and colorful things weren't awakening something somewhat unspecified within Him. Something stagnant and absurd from creation - something deeply asleep inside His atoms. The Rational part of Him insisted that it was because He wasn't used to sights like these. Perhaps, He needed a change from the dull Blackness in every corner of His Realm. The Daredevil fragment in His Soul had a perilous antithetical theory in mind.

"Will you stop time if this moment passes? As though it hadn't happened yet, I'm scared, scared, scared I'll lose you." With that tiny, incautious piece in charge of His Whole Dark Entity, His Scarlet eyes spotted and pinned the Center of that debonair mess of color and light. And it seemed that His Tetchy self fell into a dire stillness of a new set of Heartbeats and Breaths he had never known before.

A honed, unintentional step forward - and the atmosphere instantly tried to match His Dark countenance. Every tiny fluff-ball, every bird, and every Butterfly disappeared first from that White Creature's side on the green floor, rushing to hide. The Sun hid next behind ominous black clouds - but not him.