🥀𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒🥀 (Azrael x fem! love story🖤)

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

ACIDIC RAIN...DEMON CRIES...blood washing away like water slipping through the cracks to the sewer beneath pavement...
  I remember it all as if it happened yesterday, and not ten years ago.

I was a teenager--sixteen years old--and I found myself caught in between bloodthirsty Exorcists, and screaming demons running to get away, not bothering to help a fallen demon beside them, but simply trampling them as they ran.
Chaos is one definition of Extermination Day, though I have a better one.

Nightmare.

When you're a young Hellborn demoness, still having little to none experience with your own strength and powers, and your thrown into a situation such as that...
  Call myself the little lamb in a lion's den.

I remember running as fast as I could, jumping over debris and broken pavement, my head on a swivel as I scanned to see if any Exorcists were on my tail, hunting for my flesh...
  There were bodies everywhere, fellow demons I had chatted with moments ago, laid dead beneath my feet.

I continued to run, tripping once and skinning my knee, though forcing myself to get back up as I searched for some sort of shelter to separate me from the outside.
  Though my desperate searching led me to my near demise, for one little turn, I was cornered.

Not by an Exorcist, not by a demon...but someone else. Or something else.
   He was tall, nearly reaching ten feet in height if I had to guess.
He wore a horned Exorcist helmet, though no armor, carrying in his hands what appeared to be a golden blade scythe.
  His boots were black, reaching up to his knees while he wore a black coat with gold resembling a cross on his chest, while also wearing white pants clean of stains.

I could see the smirk through his mask. "Oh darling shush, we wouldn't want to alert the others, would we?"
  He removed his mask and tossed it to the floor like a napkin thrown into a trashcan, revealing his slender, pale colored face with his blackened eyes and golden pupils.

The smile on his face...sends shivers down my spine to this day.
  It was condescending, playful, dangerous, sadistic...

He didn't look like an Exorcist, he resembled nothing like them.
  So what was he?
I found out sooner then I wanted...

He approached me, bending down and lazily throwing an arm across his knee, tilting his head to the side with a playful smirk.
  "For demon scum, you're kinda pretty," he extended a hand to caress my chin, though I smacked his hand away harshly.

"Ooh, feisty, I like it when my prey puts up a fight."

I got back up on my feet to run past him, but a golden chain wrapped around my feet, knocking me headfirst to the concrete.
  A gush of blood ran down my forehead, as I shakily tried to sit up all the while being dragged slowly towards the threat.

  "Now now, where are you going?" He asked in a charming, almost seductive tone.

"Let me go!" I screeched, furiously kicking and squirming, trying to loosen or attempt to break the thin golden chain wrapped tightly around my ankles, though to no prevail.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ophelia..."
  Every nerve, muscle, tendon inside of me froze to ice at the sudden sound of my name rolling so casually off his tongue.

"Y-you know my name?" I gulped.

He chuckled; his hands wrapped in golden chain. "I know all the names of my past prey, and recent prey."
  With another tug, I was at his feet, cowering, shaking, all the while he towered over me, a smug, sadistic smile on his face as he leaned down, slipping a gloved finger under my chin to forcefully tilt my head up to meet his golden gaze. 

"I can't help but wonder...do you even have a soul? Hellborn such as yourself, it's puzzling. Though...only one way to find out if you actually do have a soul." 

He grabbed handfuls of my hair to lift me up off the ground. The feeling of my hair ripping from my skull caused me to yell out in pain, my hands raising to try and pry his fingers away, though they don't budge a centimeter.
 "Let me go!" I screeched, but he only laughed, his eyes filling with a psychotic stare that haunts me to this very day in my nightmares.

  "You think you're real funny, don't you? Ophelia, the little daughter between two Overlords who simply wanted to fuck but ended up with a mistake. The daughter who runs around Hell and mocks Death right in his face. Well news flash little girl..."

His grip on my hair tightened as he whispers darkly, "I was there to witness the death of your parents, those you call your friends. Each frivolous end for them..." he grins, his voice growing softer, "but you don't even see me, because Ophelia Carmine laughs in the face of Death."
  My blood went cold, the pieces of the confusing puzzle falling into place.

"What...what are you?" I whispered through a crack in my voice.
  He chuckled, a little gleefully. "Death," he smiles, "and I don't mean it metaphorically or rhetorically or poetically or theoretically or any other fancy way. I'm Death...straight. Up. And I've come for you, little Ophelia...because after tonight, you won't be laughing in my face any longer." 

I yelped when he pulled me closer. "But...but I'm still alive!" I cried out.
  He smirks. "You know, I'm not a demon person. The idea of these sinners is enough to make me sick, but knowing that these fuckers are actually able to reproduce? That's a crime all on its own. So why don't I do all of Heaven and Hell a favor, and take your soul right now?"

His free hand began to caress my cheek, and I squirmed to get away from his disgusting touch.
   It only made him more excited. "Aww don't be like that, trust me, you'll like this. And if you don't...I'll make you like it. Now, let me taste those lips of yours..." 

It all happened in a flash that to this day, it's barely comprehendible. He leaned closer to kiss me, but instinct had caused me to lift my feet and kick him in the stomach, which instantly made him drop me as he doubled over onto his knees.
  The chain loosened around my ankles, giving me enough slack to get up and run, but he was on my tail, swinging back his scythe to take me down.

And then...he suddenly went flying backwards, his back making contact with the wall, cracking it, as he laid limp on the ground with golden blood gushing from his chest.
  At that time, I didn't take the precious moments to try and understand what it was that happened, he was unconscious, so I took that as my chance to escape.

But later on, I discovered what it was that happened. When the blade of his scythe swung down, aiming to slice me right in half, I threw my hands out to block it, accidentally using my powers, and causing his weapon to boomerang and hit him instead. And the impact, so strong it threw him backwards.
  I never saw him again after that day...and that was ten years ago. 

Though the years have passed, the fear of walking through Hell and seeing him blended in with the crowd is always in the back of my mind.
  It's almost funny...I have him to thank almost. If it wasn't for my encounter with Death himself, I would've lived life in Hell carelessly.

He was the reason I became so determined to become stronger, to better control my powers, to understand them, and to be able to escape another dire situation.
  Luck is a chance that happens once in such a situation...and that luck was used up.

I wasn't going to be thrown into that again and die by the hands of an Exorcist, Death, or even a sinner demon. 
  And in the ten years that passed...I've managed to succeed in making myself a fighter, someone who can get in a fight and win.

Though every night as I lay to sleep...I always remember these key words. 
  Death...always comes to knock on your door. And one day...he would come back to find me.
And this time...I'll be prepared.