He stood naked over her body, silent and reserved. His eyes moved slowly and carefully as they followed the pool of blood that poured from her chest cavity. He spoke no words, instead, all he managed to do was laugh.
His laugh was loud and boisterous. The noise bounced off the castle walls like the shadow of a dancing orange flame. When he finally spoke, he only said one word. "Pathetic."
Another angel was dead. Once more, a heavenly entity had been struck down by the ruthless power of Satan's only child. At only nineteen years of age, this was the fifth angel that Damian had successfully managed to seduce and destroy.
Oh, how he loved listening to the terrified screams of his heavenly victims as they begged Damian for his mercy. The high pitched shrieking on their mortified voices sent warm sparks down Damian's spine.
It was beautiful, the blood, that is. Angel blood was different from human blood. Human blood was thick, warm, and red, while angel blood was a bright neon yellow.
It tasted different too. Instead of metallic, it tasted like salted butter. So warm and so delicious.
Then along came Mira, strolling the castle grounds in her black satin dress and crystal earrings. She was tall, thin, and curvy. She was beautiful. She was a wish - a desire - all the men wanted her.
"The moon is still out." She spoke slowly and carefully. Truth be told, she didn't even know if Damian was even paying attention to what she was saying. "Why are you awake?"
Mira slowly approached Damian from behind and caressed his neck with the gentle touch of her hands. The boy didn't flinch. His eyes were still locked on the corpse of the dead angel.
"It's a shame really," he whispered. His voice was low and grim but full of malevolence. "I liked that one."
Mira sighed. Once more, Damian was distracted. All Mira ever wanted was to have Damian's attention. She lusted for Damian, but Damian did not reciprocate those same feelings.
Damian was too busy luring in angels to even notice that Mira had acquired a new legion of demons to command. But, even if Damian did notice this, he wouldn't have cared. Damian was only concerned with one thing... Revenge.
Damian was determined to wipe out every angel, archangel, cherub, or dirty that worked under Heaven's control. He needed his flaming sword back.
The day Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden, was the day Aziraphale stormed the realm and stole Damian's flaming sword. Aziraphale used this sword and destroyed the Garden so no one could ever return.
In human years on Earth, that was two thousand years ago. In the realm of Ente Diablous, that was merely nineteen years ago.
"Why aren't you in bed?" Mira asked. Frustration echoed in her tense voice. "Your coronation is right around the corner."
Damian let out a deep growl as he finally took his eyes off the angel's corpse. "We already have seven princes of Hell," he argued. "Why do we need another one?"
Mira was silent at first. She did not know how to respond. "Because," she started. "Well, I suppose, it's because one of the princes will one day be King. So when that day arrives, you will fill in the seventh-place in the court."
"Do you really think that Father would put one of those vile demons on the throne over his own son?" Damian scoffed. He held up his hand as if to say something, but he must have forgotten what was on his mind for he quickly shook his head and lowered his hand.
There was a slight pause at first, but Mira quickly answered. "They were with him during the fall." (The fall, in particular, was the day Lucifer was thrown out of Heaven.) Mira wasn't trying to upset Damian, she was just speaking the truth. The truth was hard to hear sometimes.
Unfortunately, Mira knew Lucifer a lot better than Damian did. Mira was a demon countess put in charge of war and battle strategy. She was Lucifer's, right-hand man.
It's an indisputable fact to say that Lucifer failed as a father. All Lucifer cared about was overthrowing the armies of Heaven, and over the years, Damian developed that same narrow mentality.
Both Damian and Lucifer were hellbent on getting revenge. Damian honestly did not have a clue on who he wanted to get revenge on, but he lusted for the spilled blood of Heaven's angels.
Lilith, Damian's mother, as well as Lucifer's wife, was the mother of demons and witchcraft. She ran the realm of Ente Diablous behind the scenes. She didn't care about revenge, she only cared about the influence she had on other witches throughout the multiverse. She wanted to be a role model to other women, and men, on Earth and in any other realm or planet. Lilith just wanted people to feel loved and accepted.
"So," Mira started. "What do we do with the body?"
The merciless gears in Damian's mind started to turn like clockwork. "Put it on a pole and hang it in the field house." He smirked, revealing four large white canines adorning two rows of perfect teeth.
Mira sighed. "Complicated plan for a complicated man."
"That's life for you," Damian muttered sadistically. He laughed, but it wasn't one of happiness or comedic relief. Instead, it was a nervous laugh. It was the worried laugh of a man who doubted himself. "All I need now is a sharp stick."
"You're so sick and perverted," Mira scoffed as she exited the murder scene. "I'll be in the library if you need me," she shouted. "I'm going over our strategy to capture the Underground with Astaroth and Valak."
Yes, the Underground, a legion of angel demon hybrids that sought to overthrow the realm. They worked in secret tunnels buried deep beneath the Earth. Most of the hybrid creatures couldn't even speak, they were no smarter than a cat.
These hybrid beings were giants. They towered at nine feet tall. They were thin and bony with long grey claws that blended nicely with their dark charcoal-colored skin.
Most demons were afraid of the hybrid entities, but Damian wasn't like other demons. So when he heard this, it sparked interest in his mind.
"Are you going to -?" He stopped abruptly, and words became replaced with a bitten lip. He always knew how to hold his tongue. "Nevermind." He eventually stated with a slight tone of confusion.