Heavenly Creature

Now I would love to say that I am packing my bag and going on an adventure.

That is so far from reality.

A demon is one awful mean creature. I have always wondered why my father created them, but as he says, it scares the living hell into the humans that find their residence here. Now, if living in a loophole is not enough, you have some ugly creature standing at your door. Like a true monster in the closet.

Though, let me explain this to you first. Down in hell, a demon is a creature that possesses no face, no noticeable feet or hands; it is a thing that hovers like an ominous black cloud over your shoulder. But, you put a demon on earth, well, there will be no way that you could see the difference. He shall, however, need to fill his craving for flesh. Why father made them that way, I always thought he was having a wicked bad day. As for the soul part, well, that is their main part. They are created to take and leave nothing.

So, finding him, for me, will not be impossible, for I will know what deaths I shall be looking out for. Therefore I am counting on having him back home soon, and yes, that part he might not survive.

It is with the excitement pumping that heat through my veins, and perhaps a dash of cologne and dressed in my best; I am standing in the very spot where I shall start my search from. Yet, I know that this is oddly familiar. If I walk just but two blocks down this main road, I shall find that park where I was captivated by that beauty. Now there is no shit that my father and let us clear this up as well, but his brother, not one of them, are sitting and watching over the humans. They are both doing their own thing.

Which means…

I am going for a detour.

Not feeling the least bit guilty at all, I make the stroll through the hum-bum of the city to find that very bench, and yes, I will study them. After all, that is what he told me. It will just be in the same place where my eyes fell on that beauty. So as I find that very park with that very bench, I grab a newspaper, of course, now being the fucking devil's son, I am actually stealing it. But regardless, I have a paper in hand, skipping that shit called coffee, and I go sit on my bench.

As I look in the same direction where I last saw her….there is nothing.

My heart turns black and grey, and I feel something odd. Pushing this feeling to the back of my mind, I start reading my stolen paper. My aim…looking for someone that died quite unusual. So as I scan the pages, there is nothing that is truly standing out. The other problem that I might experience is the authorities might want to keep it out of the paper, which will make my work even more damn hard.

So I fold the paper and neatly on my lap, for I have now gotten a spout of guilt, and I shall be returning it; I watch the people just taking the beautiful sunshine day in and living happy lives. It is strange what people see as what their happiness is. For me, it is watching every asshole down there get tortured the way that he should be. As for here, this is what makes them happy, a single thing from nature. Well, if we created nature, I don't think these humans will be so happy anymore.

But regardless, I am watching them as my father said, and I am starting to feel a bit sick. These humans are too happy. It is not even natural to look so happy about a butterfly that is flying about in the wind. Now, if that were me, I would be killing it and pulling its wings apart.

Now, do not even let me get started on the couples who seem to have an endless need to take pictures of each other. The hugs. The kisses. It is like they are trying to merge into one. Hey, one body, two souls… But there should be a limit to being affectionate. This is rather hard on the eye. Why not just sit next to each other… There is no way that you shall see two demons having all this…contact…with each other. Yes, of course, my father, as with me, we both do have sex in the normal way, but there is no need word that ungodly thing called cuddle.

But I am yet to learn what they do as I would stick out like a rose in hell.

Rose…that is the next thing that I smell. I remember entering the part and passing lushes bushes on the side. Yet, this is not rose; this is lily. It is a soft pink rose with delicate hints of lily, and if you smell the scent even deeper, there are speckles of vanilla. I have by far never, and I have lived for a large number of forevers; I have never smelled anything so intoxicating before. My senses feel as it has been seduced, and I am drawing all the pleasure from it.

But I am wrong.

I have smelled this scent before.

So as I scan the park from side to side, then my eyes catch a glint of her. The same beauty that only but captured me hours ago has finds her way back into the same park.

But that is not my problem.

She is on her way; she is headed right to me. I hope for all living souls that she just passes by. But what am I thinking? Why would she even want to come near me, let alone talk to me? Why would she even, and this is wishful thinking, but why would she even dare to come to sit next to me? What is this feeling? Why am I feeling myself to be so excited, but let us not stop there? She is making me feel that burning in my veins when my body craves something.

While all these million things are racing through a goddamn devil's mind, I can see her coming closer and closer. My eyes do not leave her curves that move elegantly with each step that she takes. Her long brown hair is blowing effortlessly in the wind. She is floating on air, and fuck, she is floating on it with a beautiful purpose.

Then…

"Do you mind if I share this bench with you?"

What do I say?

"I- I-" Yes, I have lost all ability to speak. When I finally get my body to work with my head, I look into those deep brown eyes that have specks of green hiding inside, "Of course you may."

With my best effort, I try not to stare as she sits down next to me, but yet I have been given away, "You do know that it is rude to stare?"

"Miss, from where I come from, it is not rude to stare at all."

She only but chuckles, and I can with all certainty say that it sounds even better than heavenly. Yes, I have been on my own occasion where I also should not be. But that is not the point. How can they say that the creatures in heaven and perfect when I have one that is sitting here right next to me.

So, "Are you sure that you are not from heaven?"

Well, I think I have said some rather dumb things in my life, but this one might be the end of it. She only stares at me from underneath the thickest black eyelashes that I have probably seen and softly whispers, "Then you must be from hell because you are devilishly handsome."

I clearly almost topple over and fall flat on my face as the words escape those deep cherry lips. I can almost imagine what they would feel like if I just run my thumb over them. Her lipgloss makes them glitter in the afternoon sun, and every time she parts them, I swear that my veins vibrate. She is…let us not take out minds there.

But. "You are staring again. Mr?"

"Damien," my raspy voice comes out as a seductive rumble while I allow each syllable to stretch from my lips. Then I reach for her hand, and my heart completely combusts, but she does not take it.

Hiding my best effort of disappointment, she remains, her eyes focus on mine. "Mirabelle."