Chapter Three

The room was dark, save for the light streaming from the blindingly bright computer screen. Awful sounds pierced the silence as the man clicked on his mouse and Azarel frowned hard.

This was the man meant to be Dawn's guardian?

His eyes were glued to the screen, shoulders heaving as sweat poured down his temples. He was moving his hand quickly up and down his dick, which was dwarfed by the size of his small hand. Azarel loved humans, but not humans like these. The world were better off without people like him.

It wasn't that Azarel hated men who jerked off. No, definitely not. Azarel did so himself and it was something natural, and even beautiful. But this man, no, this man was not doing something beautiful. Azarel glared at the screen, and that made him want to wash his eyes with acid.

Moving on the display was one man with grey, balding hair. And he was having sex. Just not having sex with the kind of people he should be having sex with. As Dawn's uncle watched more and more videos from other old men, it struck Azarel repeatedly that this man was depraved.

Their ages were on the clock. And some looked as young as three years old.

Fuck no, Azarel swore to himself. He'd sooner bow down to the King of Hell than ever let this waste of space become Dawn's guardian.

❃❃❃

The man left after five hours spent at the computer for his room, a beer bottle in his hand. He grunted as he moved shakily towards the door, kicking some empty cup noodles across the floor to the other side. Azarel was spirit, so he could not smell, and right now, that was a blessing indeed. The man disappeared into the room.

Azarel shot to action right away.

Hovering his hand over the computer, he delved into the code and altered a few strings. The computer screen flashed to life and files began moving quickly. Within moments, Azarel had them sent to the police.

The next morning, Azarel visited Dawn again, as well as every human that had ever come into significant contact with her or her family. He had to find an insane amount of people, but Dawn was still recovering at the hospital.

When he found those people, he would pour light from his body towards their minds and cover it. Gradually, he sifted through their memories and inserted false memories created by him into their brains.

Everyone would remember him as Azarel, best friend of Dawn's father and very close to her parents. The person he visited the last was the judge presiding over Dawn's case. That was much harder work. He not only had to alter his memories, he also had to manipulate his emotions into favour for him. It took weeks for everything to fall into place.

Azarel would become Dawn's legal guardian himself.

❃❃❃

Azarel watched Dawn limping into his home, her left arm still in thick bandages. Over the past few months, she had healed quickly because she was young and as expected, the court appointed him as her legal guardian. Now, Azarel was certain that there would be nothing he wouldn't do if it meant keeping her safe.

Closing the door behind him, Azarel stood behind Dawn as she threw her head in every direction to study his home. There was a long rectangular table to the right and behind it stood the kitchen. On her left was the common area which housed a couch and a flatscreen. Beyond that lay the bedrooms, one of which he took extra pains to decorate so that a teenage girl would enjoy it.

Dawn spun around to face him, and he beheld the features of her face closely. She had raven black hair which was straight and thick. Yet it wasn't frizzy and stuck closely to her head, framing her face in even though it was already so small. Her skin was pale and her eyes sparkled green. If this had been a movie, she would've been a powerful vampire sorceress.

"Nice home," Dawn said to him.

He smiled. She was as kind as how she looked. Gentle, too. It came as no surprise. "Thanks," Azarel said to her. "It's not much, but it'll do."

"I can see that," Dawn said. "What were you thinking when you decorated the place?"

"I was thinking about how to make it as welcoming as possible for you."

"You seem to care a lot about me," Dawn said, smiling.

His heart softened. She was a nice girl. "Yes, I do. You're my ward now, and my responsibility. Nothing will harm you. I'll send those who dare to straight to Hell."

"Well, Azarel," Dawn said. "Azarel, that's your name, right?"

"Yes."

"Look, Azarel. You can put all your effort into taking care of me, break your back, whatever. But don't for one moment think that I give even the slightest shit about you. I never gave a crap about rules, not even when my parents were still alive and I'm not about to start now. I don't care who you are, but I won't listen to any fucking order you give me. You may be my father's best friend but it's not like we ever interacted."

Azarel's jaw fell open. Words failed him.

"What?" Dawn said, scoffing. "You think just because I look like this, it means I'm also a pushover? Well, you thought wrong. What kind of fucking name is Azarel, anyway?"

He closed his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair. It was apparently going to be much harder than he expected. "Dawn, I want you to know that you have every freedom while you're living under my roof. I respect your autonomy and I won't force you to do anything against your will. You're really safe with me."

"Sure," Dawn said. "Can I go to the nearest pub right now and bring a married man home to fuck him all night long?"

"I'll permit anything as long as it doesn't harm you."

"Then don't fucking tell me that I have every freedom. 'Cause I obviously don't," Dawn said as she approached a bedroom.

"Dawn - " Azarel said, walking after her.

But she slammed the door in his face.