Devilish Detective ✅

Is That What They Teach You In Catechism?

Chapter Four: Is That What They Teach You In Catechism?

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The question escapes my lips without giving me a moment to properly think it through. I stare at him through hooded and teary eyes, watching as his bow-shaped lips tug upwards in a sly and amused smirk.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, and I can only watch him, my throat burning as I struggle to keep my pathetic sobs in check. Finally, he inhales before speaking;

“Pray, tell, why would I bother myself with plotting the demise of an inconsequential human?” His tone is light, almost playful, his voice is smooth and soothing like a calm lake, but I refused to get drawn into his false façade of safety.

He is the Devil!

“You suggested my bullies dropping dead, didn’t you?” I snap at him, setting my feet down so I can properly glare at him, though from his smirk and sparkling violet eyes, I can tell my glare has no effect whatsoever.

Who am I kidding? I cannot even scare a bunny with my glare and Heaven knows I have tried.

“Indeed I did. But as you stated, it was merely a suggestion which, dare I remind you, you refused. You are of the belief that I orchestrated his murder? Now why would I do that? What’s in it for me?” He raises a perfectly arched golden brow at me, making me short for words.

“You- you – well, you are the Devil! The very embodiment of evil!”

Saying the words out loud only serve to remind me of just whom it is that I am speaking to and a wave of anguish envelops me as I think about how odd it is that the day I met him is the day my cousin supposedly committed suicide.

It simply cannot be a coincidence.

For a split second, his expression morphs to one of anger; his lips curling downwards and parting to reveal sharper than normal canines that look like they can tear into my flesh easily. However, he quickly gains control of himself, heaving in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I am not the embodiment of evil. I am merely a burdened being, tasked with the burden of looking after the condemned souls. A prison guard, if you may,” he clarifies, leaning into the couch and crossing a leg over the other, looking very comfortable and not like he is in the home of a dead kid.

“Sure, I may or may not have provoked mayhem every now and then, but everything humans do is as a result of their wanting, however, I cannot be blamed for the vile thoughts that run through the minds of you humans.”

“That’s false!” I object, not believing a word. He is after all the father of lies. “You make us do what we don’t want to.”

He rolls his eyes at my words, shaking his head as he stares at me like I am but a child, unable to comprehend simple logic.

“Is that what they teach you in catechism?” He breathes out a short chuckle, seeming to find something amusing. “When will humans take responsibilities for their actions, rather than look for a supernatural being to allocate blame to? Neither I nor other Angels possess the ability to make humans act against their wanting. It goes against my Father’s desire for human’s free will.”

“You’re a liar!” I say, shaking my head, trying not to let his words get to me.

He lets out a strangled sound and moves closer to me, leaning in so his lips are close to my ear; the sensation frightening, but oddly pleasurable and while I should be running as far as I can from him, I find myself enjoying the feeling of his breath against my skin.