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Every time I saw you, you were always covered in blood, dark red on your ashy black horns, crimson staining your pale skin. I’m sure it was hard to wash away the blood of your fellow demons. Yet every time I hear stories about you, you are always this sinful, yet beautiful monster. Gone is the blood that drips down your wings, and gone is the red in your eyes whenever you spot your next prey. Why do I never get to see you in this form? But I can’t hide from these stories even if I were to banish myself. These tales of such a majestic demon that many claim has freed them. Can I ever meet that version of you?
Or have I already met that demon that they claim is so angelic? Do I simply see you differently?
Oh how I wish to see such a demon. One who kills, in such an alluring way.
You, are dragging me back to hell. And this time, it might be worth it. I swore to never go back down there again. But when I’m under the golden light, and I can feel the warmth against my skin, all I think about is you.
Your horns and your eyes and how your hair brushes against your cheek in such a perfectly immoral way. It’s truly sinful, how I think about you while I’m strolling past those pearly gates. I pear down sometimes and when I find you, I watch for awhile. You know that I’m looking at you from up above and you do things I cannot do anymore just to spite me. You hate that I’m here while you are left to rot down there. And now you have to do it alone.
I cannot decide if I enjoy it here. I also cannot decide if I actually deserve to be here. Sometimes, I almost slip up. Sometimes, I almost think of killing someone.
The urge is there. Like some untamed beast, or some powerful monster chained up deep within me and it’s buried too deep that I can’t hear it but I can feel the vibrations of its low growls. Its the itching on the tips of my fingers. Its my thirst when I look at a glass of wine, though it isn’t wine that I want it drink. Its that numbness that threatens to take over me whenever I kill. But I never go through with it.
Sometimes I think if I should just fall back down. The cold smooth marble beneath me feet is something I cannot get used to. I feel like I don’t belong.
Do you think I belong here?
Of course, you would say no.
I know you think you deserve to be here in my place. And I can’t help but agree. You punish sin with sin. And in such a graceful way might I add.
However, to my leader, sin is still sin.
I don’t agree with him though. Not that I would say it to his face.
I’m an angel, yes. But I was once a demon and have been, for far longer than I have been an angel.
If I fall to hell now, I would simply get killed by the demons there. Though, I wouldn’t mind dying. However, it is a sin to take ones life as well.
I don’t even know if I’m an angel. I don’t seem fit to be a demon anymore than I am an angel either.
What am I? For an angel who plots schemes and lusts after a demon is not an angel. And a demon who worships god is not a demon at all.
Am I simply destined to be a fallen angel? Please tell me, because I simply can’t stand not knowing. Is that a sin too? I’m not sure.
I think, out of the two of us, you are more fit to be an angel. With that being said, you are no where close to being an angel. A being of purity and such. I don’t know. Could that be a sin?
Atsushi is a true angel. He might even be my role model. Though for him, its the other way around.
Everything down to his appearance is so fitting. He’s got platinum blond hair, shinning almost silver under the sunlight and he’s got a cute little black streak on his bangs; the only thing that allows me to differentiate him from the statues that are displayed in the garden.
Is sin truly avoidable? I’m questioning God himself now.
“Why hello there…” You tilt your head to the side, eyeing the group of demons. They see you, and they freeze.
You kill them, each taking one blow to the head. They drop to the ground, dead and lifeless. I tell myself to stop watching now.