Eye to Eye

"Finally," someone cried softly, carried on by the wind to ears unwilling to hear, a voice so desperate as if it was holding on to life by a thread. "I'm sorry mom. . .dad. . ."

Noah held on to the bridge's railing and peered down below at the roaring waves of the river as they crashed against the pillars of the bridge.

He knew it was dangerous. But that was exactly why he was standing there. All of his 18 years playing in his mind like a film as he unclasped his fingers from the railing. He closed his eyes and a single tear fell across his cheek. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear anything anymore.

Finally, he jumped off the bridge knowing he was breathing his last breaths. He felt the strong gush of air against his face as he fell down. . .down towards the river.

He screamed knowing someone might see him and have empathy for him. And at least that would help him emotionally.

Suddenly, he hit the icy water below, the severe impact making him gasp with astonishment. He knew he was drowning as he fought for breath and his lungs filled with water. The pain, it was unbearable.

But his efforts went unnoticed and his cries went unheard, and eventually, he lost the will to keep holding to his meaningless life.

Within moments, he was dead.

Noah always hated God, for what he had done to him, his family, his life. He didn't want to meet him nor anything like him, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

While dead, he had no idea where he was, it was only darkness.

"W-Where am I. . .?" He looked around, afraid of the unknown.

That moment, a translucent figure emitting shards of light appeared in the distance, and Noah gasped, taken aback.

Noah thought the figure was god.

"Who are you?" Noah exclaimed fearfully, the crack in his voice evident to even the most ignorant of men.

"Welcome, little one," said the figure, its voice hoarse and frightening. When the figure came closer, it was that of a woman with long horns and a height so high that Noah was having difficulty maintaining eye contact.

"W-Who are you?" Or rather, he meant to ask, 'What are you?' but couldn't bring himself to.

The woman smiled. "I'm the darkness itself."

Noah felt his heart race.

"What are you going to do to me?"

The woman smiled once more, but there was nothing happy about it. Then she clicked her fingers, the sound echoing through the darkness around them.

At once, Noah felt a strange sensation inside him, like there was something inside his chest desperate to come out. The feeling spread through his neck and to his head as if enveloping him whole.

"Who are you?" he questioned again, this time more hazily.

The woman smiled again and this time, her face warped into an image of pure hideousness. Noah cowered in fear.

"I am the devil," she said. "Well, the 'Manual Devil', specifically. My job is to select new recruits and train them as professional devils to lure people towards the darkness."

When Noah frowned in confusion, she continued:

"You think you died, but you're not exactly dead. Well. . . you're half-dead."

The strange sensation in Noah's chest had nulled down. He turned to the devil lady, his mind a big jumble of thoughts.

"So, where do I come in all of this?" he asked, at which the Manual Devil laughed gruesomely.

"You are a Devil now, obviously," she said, "but we will let you keep your puny human body."

"I'm a Devil!?" Noah cried, horrified. "There's no way. You must be joking! I don't feel any different."