Olivia Green: Envy's Child [COMPLETED]

Chapter 24: A Painful, Gut-Wrenching Dawning

"Your father wishes to speak to you," Samson declares as I enter the safety of my dorm. It's been a long week, currently it is lunch before self defence and I can't help but have lost my appetite. With so much going on and lessons becoming more challenging, I can't help but need somewhere calm and quiet to stop my brain from combusting.

"Now's not the time," I mumble, massaging my temples and strolling over to the mirror, picking up my lipgloss and applying a thin layer to my lips.

"Not right this second, preferably on the weekend when you are free. Instead of going to Envy's kingdom, why not go to the centre?"

"Can we arrange to bring Lucy?"

Samson tilts his head to the side questioningly, setting down on the dresser and peering at me with curiosity.

"Lucy is my hellhound, I miss her."

"Oh," Samson's eyes turn pale, his usual vibrant green irises dimming as if he's not mentally there. As soon as it happens, his eyes relight and he blinks a couple of times. "Emperor Lucifer agrees to your conditions. He is arranging for Lucy to arrive tomorrow morning, with you coming shortly after."

"Good, she doesn't deserve to be lonely," I mutter more to myself than anything. "Escort me to class?"

"Of course," the imp grins flapping onto my shoulder before taking a small sniff. "I do like your perfume. Where did you get it from?"

"I'm not sure, it's a gift from my mother."

"So you and your mother are close then?"

"Not at all," I say with a sigh. "If she knew me, she'd know I prefer feminine perfumes, not flowery. Yet I ran out yesterday so I had to resort to this."

"Well I think it smells delightful," Samson says with a light tone.

"Too sweet," I grumble as I open the door, Samson turning invisible. I don't know why, but the weight of his small body is somewhat comforting; I feel confident and untouchable when he's by my side, knowing that he can be another pair of eyes for me. Despite being a demon, I didn't quite realise how twisted the world truly is. I mean why should I? I live a privileged life, I'm still fifteen and I've never been completely exposed to the world.

We make our way to the school's dojo where we learn to defend ourselves in hand-to-hand combat, meanwhile being trained with different weaponry. Being a demon can be treacherous work since making deals with the humans also exposes our presence. Some people assume that we are all bad- we're not. We are just trying to survive. Yet those people who make assumptions track us and kill us. Demon hunters. The bastards, slaying my kind with their weapons of steel.

I wear a pair of high-waisted, black leggings with a Forest green strip down the side with a matching, short-sleeved crop top. I wear a simple black jumper to cover myself, hair tied up into a high ponytail and light makeup dotting my face; I wear a pair of simple trainers.

I open the double doors and step into the tall, wooden room with large glass windows, laminate flooring and a wall of mirrors. The two exposed walls are oak panelling with weaponry adorning them; different shapes, sizes, types, weights. Nine square mats are placed equally across the floor, black and padded to reduce impact on the floor.

The majority of my class is here already, sorted into divisions by Coach Smith. He's a short, muscled man with a gleaming bald head with two grey horns jutting from his skull. He coaches the rugby team, self defence and some PE lessons; kind and caring, he's only downside is his hotheadedness and short temper. The wrath demon approaches me wearing a sport branded shirt and matching shorts, knee-high socks, wristbands and trainers. He's an inch shorter than I am, making him 5'5.