The Devil's Accessory

***

Azrael stood in a dense forest with straight trees standing in straight rolls, red leaves painted a path disappearing to thick mist. Azrael knew this place all too well, with its silent breeze and comforting scents, because she walked this path every day for years. She placed her hand on her chest, which was encased in a corset that floated into a tulle skirt. Flowers sat in her curly mane of hair and glittered, gathered around her doe eyes. Her rich sepia skin reflected the constellations up above. Her ivory eyes could see waves of spirits falling from each being that was lost in the forest. Her lips parted as she searched for the one pure soul, and her round button nose cringed in a playful attitude; she picked up a certain pitter-patter that clumsily echoed through the greenery.

Tiny arms wrapped around her waist "tag, you're it" she giggled before running down the path, the angel watched as the mane of black hair bounced on the little girl's head, she turned to look if Azrael was following her "come on" her almond-shaped eye which was in a dark coal against her dark umber skin that glows with rainbow undertones which only made the red dress stand out.

Azrael smirked. "Here I come" Azrael took off, chasing the little girl through the straight path.

The girl in red screamed and giggled with; such joy; the angel could easily catch her with no problem but she wanted to live with this childish expression. She kept the girl in sight until her eyes found a wrinkling hand reaching out to capture the innocent child, but Azrael pulled her scythe out and touched it to the ground, softly, which made the hand struggle before shriving away back to its darkness.

They came to an opening, a great river that flowed with no end. "Is this the river?" the little girl's voice trembled in her throat, fear coated her coal eyes.

Angel nodded and lifted the child to her hip. In a great whoosh, the river parted. They crossed the storming river which thundered even though it was parted, the little girl clinging to the angel for dear life while they crossed, Azrael's fingers run through the girl's hair, and she cupped the girl's head to her chest while the girl got visible calmer and rest her head against the woman's chest listening for a heartbeat but found none.

Once they crossed the raging river and touched the green lush grass on the banks. A set of stairs appeared, reaching towards the heavens, pearly white stairs that looked slippery to the touch. The little girl in red was lowered to her feet, and she stared at the stairs in wonder, but there was an underline of anxiety.

A shiver went up her spine. "I am so scared," she whispered, holding herself.

The angel knelt before the little girl. "It's ok" she pushed the child's hair out of her face "We can walk around until you feel ok to go in." The girl in red grabbed Azrael's hand and smiled so widely.

Suddenly the ruffle of voices came from up above and the little girl's eyes turned glossy. "Grandma" she gasped, letting go of the angel's hand and running towards the stairs "grandma!!!" she shouted in glee followed by a squeal of laughter.

Azrael turned away from the scene with her eyes on the forest before her. She pressed her hand against her chest as the corset fell away, flowers fell from her hair and the glitter faded leaving her in a pale dress with an armor coating her chest and arms, a hood captured her mane of hair and her scythe lay welcoming in her hand; in a breath. The weapon whispered in deep comfort and the clock on her waist clicked loudly.

A sound like craving metal moved through her mind 'another one' it hissed, and Azrael took a step forward. But a large fire appeared before her, she watched the flame dance on the stick in front of her, the very light was making her feel warm and comforted.

"for the warmth" a voice cracked like burning bark.

She didn't dare look into his face, she grabbed the stick and began her walk back but when she stepped towards the river. It was gone, the forest was gone and even the spirits that roamed through it, there was nothing but space. Dark, silent, and lonely but in the midst of all this stood a silhouette, his back was turned to the angel and she gasped.

***

"Natasha" Erik's voice sounded in front of the model in a deep primal growl "pin" he clicked his fingers in front of her face but she still saw right through him "Nat, pay attention" a pair of blood-red eyes popped up in front of Natasha followed by a sharp jawline, hollow cheeks and full lips the shade of terra-cotta against dark umber skin "the whole point of having a live model is to be alive during this process" he stressed with two long fingers on the bridge of his nose.

Natasha, a woman with bright hazel doe eyes, rich sepia skin, and hair neatly styled into boho braids "sorry" she whispered as Erik just opened his hand towards her which she placed a pin in.

He began to frantically place the fabric onto her body, mumbling to himself but now and then telling her to move. He was frustrated, it wasn't the fabric nor the lack of creativity nor Nat's drifting attention but his hunger that was causing him to have such a temper. They haven't been hunting in weeks and Erik himself grows weaker by each day but Nat ignored it. She just glanced around the room which was frighteningly empty and quiet, with no windows to bring in light, and no colors filtering the white wall. It was all white with sheets hanging off beams, racks full of fabric and accessories while trays of buttons, pins, needles, and everything else.

With a whoosh, the pastel fabric was ripped off of Natasha's body and tossed to the other side of the room but she didn't flinch because she was used to his tantrums, especially ones fueled by hunger and rage. 

She watched him squeeze his fist and shut his eyes. "We are done." He pulled his waistcoat straight and straightened his ringlets of hair before offering his hand to his assistant, helping her step off the platform. 

She stepped over the hellhound with pitch black fur, slanted inky red eyes, and three heads; whose heads rested against the platform, whimpering for some affection. 

The door crept open as a platinum blonde head popped in, his pink eyes and long features could be seen from where the two were standing "Erik?" the smoky voice echoed through the building.

Erik waved him over and let go of her hand "come in, what do you need, Jasper?" he turned with such dramatics, flinging his arms as he minced towards his blazer

Jasper moved deeper into the room, his black leather jacket moved with his body and his mesh shirt with a tiny sliver chain completed his lazy rock glam look. "Morning," he announced before moving to Nat who was on her way to the changing area "For you" he offered her a cup of coffee which she smiled and thanked him.

Erik noticed the gesture immediately, he flipped the collar of his blazer down "where's my coffee?" he asked, watching the pale man's expression.

"You don't like Mugg & bean coffee," he said with a bored expression while Nat stuck her tongue out at her boss over his shoulder. "You prefer Nat's coffee, it's the very thing that can ease you out of a bad mood, which seems to be the problem you have this morning" Jasper began to play with buttons and accessories.

Erik slapped his hand away "what do you want?" he pronounced the sentence slowly as Nat disappeared into the back.

She pulled on her pastel purple sweater as she listened to the conversation "I found her" Jasper mentioned which made Nat's heart stop "at a library cafe place, I want to confirm with Nat, when are you two available" a whimper moved through the room unintentionally.

For centuries and centuries, they had searched for a pure soul - one that would grant them access to hell - and it seemed almost too good to be true. Mixed emotions flooded her; on one hand, she was happy for Erik to have a chance to reclaim his throne, but on the other, she might lose him in the process. The thought was so real, so painful, that it caused an ache in her chest and a burning sensation in her stomach.

"We are too busy today, we can't make it" he growled, Nat knew it wasn't his pride but his fear of talking.

So Nat grabbed his coffee, straightened the outfit she knew he would hate, and walked out of the makeshift dressing room. "We will be there, we have an opening for lunch" bathed in pastel purple from head to toe, she stared up at Erik who gave her a harsh look.

Jasper sensed the tension of their stares and saw himself out. Erik moved towards Nat in a swift move, not breaking eye contact until he was right in front of her. This stare alone could send men and women running but all Nat did was give him a sweet smile and hand him the coffee. Not a word was said between the two, Erik's eyes scanned her outfit from the chokers, platform boots,  truffled skirts, and lacey socks but he didn't say a word; just sipped his coffee and walked off.

But midway he raised his finger "don't ever speak for me again" he mentioned over his shoulder, Nat could feel the frustration dripping from his mouth.

She smirked "don't fear, then I wouldn't have to" she gave him a sheepish smile before walking off.