Mask

Prelude: The Boys (RW)

As the son of Lucifer he would have to go to hell every now and then to help with the rogue demons and escaped spirits.

For today though, Cerbeius was practically done. He'd patrolled, supervised the pitch black souls bound to hell, and all he needed now was to capture one of the rogue demons that managed to slip out into the mortal realm.

Exhaling, he shut his eyes, focusing on temporarily opening the portal. He imagined a small crack where stars from the other world would shine through, the air much more pleasant, the night more peaceful, and the people quieter. The image became stronger in his head until he felt like he was actually there.

When his eyes snapped open, Cerbeius was no longer surrounded by flames. His eyes scanned the dark, abandoned alleyway. He breathed in, lips curling up into a smirk.

There were traces of the rogue demon being here, the air had a faint decaying and smoky smell, there were scratches along the brick wall, and there was a claw stuck next to the scratches.

A fresh, tangy smell of blood -human blood- came from somewhere in the shadows.

Cerbeius scoffed. "It didn't even try to cover it's tracks." He started to walk in the direction the scent was strongest. The leisurely stroll broke into a sprint.

He soon came to a stop. The demon was in the area. Glancing around the abandoned road, his eyes stopped at the small flicker of light coming from a liquor store. The smirk came back.

He ran a hand through his hair as he walked to the store. The door made a jingling noise as it closed behind him.

"Y'know, if I were you I'd come out now rather then later. You wouldn't want to be punished any worse, now would you?" Cerbeius let out a low chuckle. A shadow slithered on the wall. There was another flicker of light.

As he walked towards the shadow he snapped his fingers. Instantly the shop lit up. A shriek of pain came from the ugly monster in front of him.

Demons didn't like light.

His smirk widened when the demon began to shake. He took a step forward, cocking his head. Red eyes glared up at him and the demon lunged, hoping to catch him by surprise. It only managed to nick his neck.

Cerbeius's smirk dropped.

"You really shouldn't have done that." He hissed, grabbing the demon by the throat and threw it into the wall.

Glass shattered and a diluted black liquid pooled the floor. He stalked towards the bleeding demon, grabbing on to the demon's hair. He pulled while twisting.

"Any last words?" he asked.

"Fvck you!" it spat.

He grinned manically. "I'd fvck myself if it were possible, too."

It wasn't even a second later that tore the demons head clean off his shoulders. The body was already starting to disappear. Cerbeius smiled.

Back to hell, it went. Why did they even bother trying to escape when they were just going to get caught and sent right back. Cerbeius shrugged, uncaring.

Assignment complete.

*****

There are many ways to die; old age- a slip, a fall, a crash- illness, disease, epidemics- natural disasters, fires, storms- etc.

There are many known ways to die, but there are also those unknown. And those are the circumstances involving Death in all his glory.

His dark cloak like thick, black smoke swished gently in the breeze. Bits of black hair poked out of his hood. The top half of his face was doused in shadow and the glimmering black eyes lurking beneath felt right at home.

A dangerous smirk marred his face as a single name escaped from his lips. "Mathew Sanders."

Mortem nodded, turning around. He outstretched his pitch black wings and glided away, gracefully dodging buildings. From afar he might've looked like a bird dancing in the wind, except he was deadly.

He had to find his target. It was the last one for the day. Trusting his gut, he went in the direction it was pulling him to. He came to a stop in front of a club.

Figures, he thought distastefully. He stepped inside with no trouble. After all, nobody could see him but the target.

The stench of alcohol and B.O. filled the air. His heart may have thumped in sync with the loud music if he wasn't what he was.

The colorful lighting was dim and was almost romantic. People laughed and danced, some did illegal business at the back.

Mortem ignored them, searching with his eyes until they stopped on the fairly young looking, intoxicated, brunette man with a woman on each arm.

Information instantly flooded his head. Mathew Sanders, 6'1, brown hair, blue eyes, 45 years old with no family besides a younger sister who Matthew left behind.

Mortem walked to the man, his gaze cold, not once taking his eyes away. "Come outside." he whispered in Mathew's ear.

The man shrugged the women off of him and exited the club. He didn't understand why he couldn't control his actions, but something was pulling him to the dark alley and he wasn't sober enough to stop himself.

Mortem waited in the shadows as Mathew was out of any onlooker's sight. As soon as the man was where Mortem wanted him, he was pinned against the wall. The man didn't struggle as Mortem strangled him.

As the light left Mathew's hazy eyes, a light blue mist-like substance seeped out of his body. It was Mathews soul. Mortem breathed in deeply, seeing images of Mathew's life flashing on the back of his eyelids. He smiled contently when all of the soul was breathed in.

Souls were his life force and in return, he had to either send them to heaven or to hell. Mathew would definitely be going to hell. Some of the things Mathew had done would give people nightmares. It didn't faze Mortem though, he'd seen much, much worse.

Hell, he'd done worse himself.

The only thing that really mattered was getting the job done and as Mortem calmly stalked away, the blue bruises on Mathew's neck disappeared, leaving nothing behind but his dead body, blood still swimming with alcohol.

Target eliminated.

~~~~~~~~~~1540 words~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright © Tasneem

Unedited