The meeting

I awoke with a scream trapped in my throat. I had the same dream. I was back in the village I went to with my father, and the sky was the same dark gray as before. There was the dead body of my “missing” mother right in front of me, and I was crying. This was before I learned how to control my emotions. 

Houses were burning down, the chapel was in ruins, but my father did nothing to stop this storm. I shake the memory away once more. Asmodeus, wait no, Henry, knocks on the door, “My lady, breakfast is almost ready,” He says, opening the door, not expecting to see me in the clothes from yesterday,

 “Well, you must have had fun with the fellas,” he says, licking his lips. “If you want to have fun, you should just ask me, and maybe I’ll make an exception,” he says, his voice husky and deep. That's when I snapped, “Stay in your place,” 

I say, my voice was loud, but not yelling, “You do not have the right to say that to me, and you know it, you know what I have been doing to get my throne back, so do NOT speak that to me or else there will be consequences.” I say, my demon form came out. 

I watch as he steps back, fear in his eyes, my demon form was unpredictable. I take a deep breath and calm myself down. My skin returns to its pale and I walk into the bathroom. I remove my dress and step into the bath that one of the maids has drawn for me. I wash off the sweat caked in my skin from my travels. 

Once I finish my bath, I put on a black dress with dramatic sleeves, blue details, and a hood. My shoes were navy blue with ribbons. I put my hair up in a ponytail and walk out of the bathroom. Asmodeus was nowhere to be seen. 

I walk out of my room and down the grand staircase, my dress trailing behind me. I walk into the dining room, grab an apple, and walk out of the room. That's when I hear a yell, “Wait, wait bitch wait!” It was Asmodeus. I turn around to watch him run up, 

“What, THE FUCK DID YOU CALL ME?” I yell, my anger bubbling up again. “ I want to apologize, my lady. I was out of line before, just allow me to come with you, the town can be very dangerous,” he says, bowing. I roll my eyes, but there was a small, tiny, teeny tiny smile. “Fine, but you need to change into something else; a psychic can’t come into the city without a familiar.”

 I say, smirking when he transformed into a cat. It was a small black cat; the only thing that made it seem off was that its ears looked a tiny bit like horns. I pick it up and put it in my basket before continuing into town. I stopped in front of an old building, which looked like a small church, and on the inside, it showed that it was a small church. Everything that was accounted as holy was removed, but there were still gold flakes or tiny jewels in unexpected places.

 I walk towards a man deeper in the church, my red hair looking like a torch in the darkness. Asmodeus tensed up as we passed a ⅛ full bath of holy water. I looked at the priest; his eyes were kind, but it was a lie; his shadow told of tales of murder and killing. “Hello, my child, you must be the charming woman who offered to buy the chapel from the church.” 

He says, his smile faltering for a second, but in a split second, it returned. I nod my head. If I spoke too soon, I could give away that I'm a demon. “I hope you don’t mind the mess; looters have gotten to it right before me.” He says, almost wholly apologetically, but not 100%. My spell finally took hold of the man. I watched as his stare became blank. It was go time. 

“Get me the documents I need to sign and show me where the storage room is,” I demand, my words echoing through the chapel. I watch as the priest walks out. Normally, demons were unable to enter chapels, but because of the lack of holy energy and because I was a higher-ranked demon than most who tried to enter, I didn’t even feel the pain demons normally feel. 

I watch as the priest emerges, and there are multiple documents in his arms that I would need to sign. I sign where I need to, and I drop the spell. I watch as his eyes refocus. Since our meeting is done, I will take my leave.” I say, before turning to leave, that's when I saw it, high in the stained glass windows, an angel. Not a sculpture, not a design, but a real angel. 

He flew down to me, and I recognized him immediately. It was Abaddon; his white wings were like pears, his blonde hair like honey, his eyes like rubies, but his hand held a scythe; it was the angel of death. But instead of running, I smiled, “Abaddon, it's been too long, how are you?” I asked, walking towards him, my heels clicking. “It was better till I came here,” He says teasingly, moving my face with only a finger, studying me. “I honestly thought you were dead,” He says, his voice barely over a whisper, “I thought you had become one of them.”