Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 37: Trickery

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          “I have question before we…discuss my situation,” I said, staring the demon in front of me, right in the eyes. “What’s up with the whole, ‘I’m a bird’ thing?”

        An altered, younger looking version of the Raven Demon sat across from me, wearing an all black suit and a wide, wolfish grin that looked peculiarly familiar. His black hair, once wild and twirled in dreadlocks, was now short, and his once clean, shaved face was dusted with dark stubble.

        “Always charming, Faith Williams.” Malphas finished the rest of the hard liquor in his glass and leaned back, draping his well-built arms over the back of a leather couch. “I’m a demi-god,” he corrected, black eyes dropping briefly to pendent on my neck, then back up to my eyes.

        “So, you’re the son of a god…?” I guessed.

        “Yes,” Malphas replied shortly, his eyes suddenly growing a bit colder and his jaw setting. He paused for the longest time, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to tell me more. There was a device that resembled a metronome on the table between us that filled the silence, which I found oddly entrancing.

      Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

        Whenever I opened my mouth to ask why it was there, ticking back and forth on the table, I would suddenly forget it was even there.

        “I was once human, believe it or not, because of a genetic mutation, which is how most demi-gods and demons begin. I had a half-human, half-demon mother, and an immortal father I never met, nor knew anything about. I died in war as a highly ranked general. I can’t tell you this story firsthand, but according to spectators there at the time, a witch, who practiced dark magic, discovered my dead body on the battlefield with a raven perched on my chest. She realized I was rather extraordinary, given my father’s blood in my veins, and ripped out my dead heart, switching it with the raven’s. I was reborn into what I am today.”

        My gaze drifted over the creature before me, following the contours of his face. “Your humanity is completely gone?”

        “Fortunately.” Those coal black eyes shifted to Atticus. “Being human is boring and overvalued. Don’t you agree, Atticus?”

        Atticus, the lean, attractive demon was perched on the arm of my couch and watched me curiously. Suddenly, he exploded into a puff of feathers and those feathers caved inwards, imploding into a black raven. I flinched backwards with a shriek. The bird exploded once more into feathers, which merged to form the flesh of the demon once again.

        “I couldn’t agree more,” Atticus said, winking at me.           

        An unsettling sensation settled in my gut. “Does Death have any humanity in him?”

        Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

        “Not humanity, but perhaps something that mimics it.” Malphas looked down at the metronome-like device between us, his eyes following the little pendulum swinging back and forth, and for a moment, we were both mesmerized by the device. “The trick is, Faith, don’t let the imitation of something that was once there, fool you into believing the real version exists. Just beyond the shallow depths of a façade, there is always truth. You just have to peel away the mask…”

         “I’ve seen these…memories of Death and I,” I said, still transfixed on the metronome. “Maybe they’re visions, or maybe they’re just a part of another game that he wants to play with me. Maybe these memories aren’t real at all… But I saw a side of Death that I-”