Devil Inside

From The Roaring Flames Of Hell.

His fists unclenched, his shoulders dropped and she could hear his heart rate slow and feel the utter despair he was feeling inside so keenly it broke her heart. He turned away from her.

“I'm the devil Elsa,” he said. “You need to leave now.”

“I'm not leaving,” she said, standing up, “Devils don't save people who throw themselves off buildings.”

“I should have let you fall,” he said, “Now I have to leave again just when things were becoming more normal.”

“What do you mean? You don't have to go anywhere, I won't tell anyone about your...” she wasn't quite sure what to say. “What were you doing there anyway, when I jumped?”

“I live here,” he said, “I heard something on the roof and got there just in time to see you throw yourself off.” he looked at her with a pained expression on his face, “Why would you do that?” he asked, “You've got everything to live for, you're young and beautiful, you've got friends and family, no worries, no responsibilities, a future. You have no idea what it is truly like to have no reason to live and every reason to die.”

“I wasn’t trying to...” Elsa shook her head, “That's how you feel?” she asked quietly.

“It's what I deserve.”

“But you're still alive?”

Sebastian gave a bitter laugh, “Oh, I've tried.” he said and he picked up a can from a workbench, emptying it's liquid contents all over the floor. “If my appearance won't convince you to stay away from me, maybe this will.”

He placed a hand in his pocket and drew out a lighter, lighting it and throwing it to the floor. He did not flinch as the flames engulfed him and held her gaze through the golden shimmer of flame looking all at once both defiant and utterly, hopelessly lost.

“I've tried everything,” he said simply, “I can't die.”

Elsa did not look away, she could barely breath but she did not hesitate and stepped forward reaching her hand into the flames until she was just inches from touching Sebastian’s chest, where she could see the pulse of his heart beating powerfully beneath his skin. “Then we are more alike than you realise,” she said softly, wincing slightly as she withdrew her hand and held it up for him to see as the blistered skin healed and became cool and ivory smooth once more. Sebastian stepped back, his eyes searching hers, his expression one of shock and confusion.

“You are ... like me?” It was a question tinged with hope and Elsa felt so powerfully his anguish she could hardly bear to be near him. Suddenly aware of the ridiculous picture they must present, he with his enormous, black wings curved about his shoulders and she standing on the other side of the flames looking like Joan of Arc at the stake, she stepped back, broke his gaze and turned away, “I am similar to you in many ways I think,” she said, so much about Sebastian beginning to make sense to her now, “but not quite the same.”

She looked back to see Sebastian turn away from her, walking to the edge of the room, his wings retreating back into his body leaving only two angry red welts down his shoulder blades. The ridges in his spie had smoothed and, as he sat on the floor, his back against the wall, Elsa could see that his features had also returned to normal. Her senses were reeling; she had not expected to meet anyone out here and had foolishly left her medication at home. The beat of Sebastian's heart was sending pulses of heat through her body. She could smell him, his fear and loathing of himself, his adrenalin, his sweat, and his deep, deep sadness. She could smell his blood. She forced herself to walk towards him once more, trying not to inhale his scent as she sat on the floor near to him, but not close. The fire continued to burn, the shadows it threw highlighting his features, making him look like a beautiful, perfect statue carved by a tortured hand.

“Explain this to me,” he asked quietly, “What are you? What am I? Are there others?”

“I don't know what you are,” she answered truthfully, “I, apparently, am a vampire.” She saw his muscles tighten, so aware was she of him now she could virtually hear the friction of muscle fibres moving against one another. She expected him to look at her in horror, to get up and walk away, to never look back but instead he simply looked at her and asked, “Have you killed people?”

“No - almost,” her answer was delivered quickly and she looked to the floor, not wanting to remember but somehow knowing that Sebastian needed to know everything, needed to know he wasn't alone, “Someone stopped me.”

“Did you want to kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Did they deserve to die?”

“Yes – I – I don't know.”

“You need to know, it is the only way you can ever sleep at night.”

“I don't sleep.” She wanted to ask him why he had asked her the question, had he killed people? She wanted to ask but everything about him told her that she already knew the answer and that he might not be ready to go there yet.

They sat in silence for a few minutes and when Sebastian spoke again, it was as if his voice was far away, as if he was speaking from another time, another place, a place where Elsa could never go. “I crave the blood and flesh of humans everyday. I have forced myself, over many years, to control the hunger but I can only do it for so long, then it becomes too much and I know I will get to a point when I will lose control. When that happens I have to make sure I'm somewhere I can't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. The hunger has to be satisfied, the best I can do is try and use it to rid the world of people who have as little right to life as me.” His jaw was set and he spoke through clenched teeth, his hands pulled once more into tight fists, “I remember little but I know that no matter what they've done, the people that I choose, I can never be sure they deserved to die like that.”

Elsa wanted to speak, wanted to tell him that she understood how it felt, the need to kill no matter how much you didn't want to. But her head was throbbing in unison with the beat of Sebastian's heart. His blood was so powerful, the scent of it so much more intoxicating than any human. Her own blood rushed in her ears and she closed her eyes, trying to breath steadily through the desire to tear out Sebastian's throat.

“Elsa, are you ok?” for the first time Elsa heard something other than sadness or anger in Sebastian's voice, he was concerned and the tentative touch of his hand on her arm sent a bolt of electricity through her body which snapped her out of her violent, lust for his blood. She jumped up.

“I'm sorry, I have to go.” was all she could manage and it took all her strength to turn and run away. To Sebastian, one moment she was there, an angel emerging from the roaring flames of hell, the next she and the flames were gone, the sheer speed of her departure sucking the oxygen momentarily from the space where she had stood and stopping the fire in it's tracks. Sebastian sat in darkness, alone again and more confused than ever.

 At home, Elsa began to breathe more easily as the serum did its work. As her mind cleared and she lay on the bed that was of little use to her anymore, images of Sebastian filled her thoughts. Could she tell her father about him? No, first she needed to know what he was; what if he was on the 'kill on sight' list her father had told her about? We have a ist of demons and supernatural beings that are too dangerous to be rehabilitated, that are beyond the help of Haven I'm afraid. She couldn't allow herself to imagine Sebastian dying, she wasn't even sure if he could be killed, he said he couldn't die but the organisation had found ways to rid the world of so many demons, maybe they had a way. Sebastian's desire to die terrified her; she would not risk introducing him to the very people that may be able to make it possible. She wanted so badly to tell him that there may be a way to stop his cravings, but she knew she couldn't give him that hope unless she was sure. She remembered him standing in the flames, his body so strong, his spirit so broken and she hated herself for leaving him behind. When he'd touched her, that split second his fingertips had made contact with her skin, she'd felt something so intense that the mere memory of it made her breath catch in her throat, her pulse quicken. The attraction she'd always felt towards him was now etched with white-hot flame into her very soul and somehow she knew there would never be anyone else for her but him. In each other they had understanding and hope for the future. She'd felt it and she'd sensed it in him to, hope that together they could be more than the monsters they feared they were.