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The Devil has to Fall in Love with me

He's the tempter, She's the sinner, And the only place he's taking her is hell. __ When you're a damsel in distress who dropped out of college and have no job, things seem pretty down in the drain but what if the Devil shows itself to you with an irresistible offer, everything in the world in exchange for your soul? Doesn't sound that bad, right? You can live an easy life and then worry about being in hell later on. But what if you have a very special soul and not just the devil but also the celestials are after you, the only way out is to sign the deal with the devil and ask for an impossible wish. What wish do you ask for? 'The Devil has to Fall in Love with me'. No? Well, that's what our protagonist Fiona Jenkins did.

Wolfie_Gurl · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
16 Chs

3- My Sweet Angel

The sound of waves overlapping each other sounded like a melodious lullaby, her body was perfectly sunk into the softness of the mattress as the sunlight from the window warmly kissed her face, half sleepily she held up her hand instinctively trying to block it. A groan left her mouth as she turned to the other side, sinking more into the comfortness of the pillow, a soft moan left her mouth as she started to drown back into her sleep.

The bed she was in was a four post bed with see through white curtains tied clumsily to the wooden frame and had a beige cushioned headboard. French glass doors were letting in the sunlight passing it through the balcony, beside the glass doors were two white seats arranged with a small round coffee table complementing the beige wallpaper with floral prints on the walls.

Just when she had returned to the world of slumber she was wide awakened by a scream and then the scream turned into screams, brutal, painful and ear screeching screams. They sounded distant but not too far, Fiona sat up along with her loosely curled blonde hair falling down her shoulders, her eyes glowing golden due to the sunlight. She looked around the unfamiliar setting she was in as she stood up, her white cotton dress was loosely hung on her body, it's round neck made her collarbone more prominent, with it's puffed sleeves hanging a few inches above her elbows.

She walked towards the french glass doors only to find water everywhere, an ocean, flowing, crashing and overlapping upon itself, little goose bumps formed on her arms. The water made her feel shivers up her spine. She was about to open the door and walk to the balcony, when she was startled by a voice.

"Mornin', sunshine." Fiona turned to see Xanton leaning against the door frame. "Did you-" Xanton was interrupted by a loud painful scream from outside. "Ugh.. Someone needs to stuff a t-shirt or something down his throat."

"Who are you? And what's happening?" Fear peered it's way into her. "Why am I here?"

"Follow me, It'll all make sense in a giffy." Xanton replied as she stepped back from the door frame and turned to walk away.

Fiona hesitated at first but then decided to follow her. She rushed out bare feet and followed her out of the room revealing a balcony that looked down in the indoor yard. Fiona moved to the black steel floral railings as she looked down.

A man was tied down to a chair, beneath the chair was a black circle with a pentagon drawn on the floor, his head was hanging low, the crisp white shirt he was wearing was spotted with crimson liquid and was torned, around him three women stood, dressed in black robes, all of them holding swords.

"Fiona, you're coming?" Xanton got her attention and she nodded in reply.

She was following her like a lost puppy, it was almost as if she had no control over herself. They went downstairs into the yard where the whole horrific scene was happening.

The women were whispering something foreign slowly moving towards the man, holding the swords up, with their noses touching the edge of the handle. There were black markings, similar to fire, on the blade which were gradually turning red, like they were recharging and when the last part of the marking turned red, the women jumped and twirled around in the air, stretching out the sword, the blades slashed into the man's flesh as a loud painful scream left his throat as he turned his head up as if asking the God up above to take him. It sounded so horrific that Fiona covered her ears. Her eyes fell to the man's bloodied face, it seemed a bit familiar, the sharp features and the hair. His abyss colored eyes felt unfamiliar.

"Can you keep it a bit low, Yaseen? You're scaring our little midget." Xanton remarked as the man shot a glare in her way.

"Fuc-" Another scream left his throat as the women pinched the sword into his skin once more and then again and again and again until he was unconscious, his shirt fell off his body, drenched in his blood, the ropes were cut down too. The black pentagon beneath his chair was now covered with his crimson blood perfectly; not a single drop was out of the circle.

Fiona looked at the scene horrified as she saw the women step back from him. They sat on the ground one knee, bowing their heads, using their swords as canes with the pointy edge of the blade resting on the tiled floor.

The man let out a final scream as he looked up at the sky, his dark abyss like eyes were being tinted blood shot red and as they turned completely red, he smiled at the sky mockingly, looking forward his eyes fell on Fiona whose face was now drenched in tears, her hands were trembling and clumsily still trying to cover her ears.

Their eyes met and for the first time in the past few days things made sense to her, the nightmares, the dreams, the near death experience, the urge to find Xanton, it all finally made sense to her. Each and every piece fits right in the puzzle.

Her heart beat rose as he stood up from his seat, his bare feet were now standing in the pool of his own blood, his eyes were still locked into hers as he walked towards her leaving his bloodied footprints behind. The blood was still flowing out of his wounds and tears out of her eyes as he gradually closed the distance between them with each step.

The more he came closer, the more his aura got stronger, the aura of superiority, dominance and power. She felt weak, like her energy was deteriorating out of her body, her legs felt weak as stepped back and lost her balance as she fell on the floor, sitting up she looked at him towering his huge figure over her. His bloodied hand reached out for her.

"You're still as clumsy as I remember." His soft chuckle felt like a song that she'd been missing. She reached out and held his hand, the wetness of the blood smeared on her palm but she didn't care about that right now. He carefully lifted her up to her feet. She intertwined her fingers into his, as she touched his blood drenched face with her other hand, softly caressing trying to believe that it wasn't another dream. She let go of him and took a step back, observing him up and down, her eyes paused at his eyes.

More tears streamed out as she slightly laughed trying to wipe them away. She lunged forward cupping his face with her hands pulling him closer to her, she leaned her face upward, tiptoeing she locked her lips with his, tasting the rusty iron blood on his lips, softly sucking on the wound on his lower lip as he wrapped his arms around her waist lifting her up slightly above his head, lips still locked with her, softly sucking her in as she rested her arms on his shoulders.

The blood from his wounds slowly started to embed itself in the white fabric of her dress, tainting it's white gracefulness with it's crimson gracelessness.

Pulling away to catch her breath, she looked down into his beaming red eyes, trying to absorb the fact that he was there.

A hearty laugh growled out of his throat, "I'm here, my sweet angel."

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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