Shadows of Kisses

Banished from Hell and Drained of all Powers

This all began two years before your birth, in the darkest, deepest pits of hell, reserved for the strongest, most molevolent demons imaginable. I had been born to the Prince of Hell, Mundus, and a she-demon who was a decendent of the great demon Abigail; she had died on the day of my birth, my father had never even mentioned her name, to this day I do not know anything other than she had given me the blood of Abigail. I had been raised by nannies and other demons, only on occation would I see my father, which turned out to be once or twice every three months. I knew he had been ashamed of me, something I had learned to live with; you see, a demon of my blood is meant to be fearsome, molevolent, everything I am not.

For a demon, I am an oddity, my nature is humane, kind, and generous, do not get me wrong, I am in no way an angel, but I seem to be a far cry from a normal demon. For this I had been cast aside, unless I meraculously became cruel and a tyrant like my father. I spent all of my time locked away in the more hidden parts of my home, a extremely large castle, usually filling my time with things that would bore most, I found an interest in them. I took to playing instruments, currently able to play piano, violin, gutair, flute, cello and even use my own voice, and play even the most complex songs at that! I filled my brain with all sorts of facts, from ancient history of both humans and demons, to demonic legends I took an interest in. One in particular caught my eye- mostly because he seemed to be so much like me. He had the same odd bit of humanity in him and seemed to comprehend love, an emotion I had been unsure of at the time, not one I felt very often back then.

The more I looked into Sparda, the more I realized he had the right idea, I would hide my thoughts though. First it was improper for a woman to speak of such things, considering he was basically a trador, and second, because I knew it would earn me even more scorn and regret. After almost sixteen years of my life, I had finally caught my fathers attention, or, so I would have liked to beleive. Only three days after my sixteenth birthday, something I hardly noticed- birthdays never really mattered to me, my father had called me to his main office, striking me as odd at first my head had been a whirlwind of thoughts as to why he would ask me to see him.

I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings back then, but now I know that there was an odd energy in the air, I stepped into my father's rather small office quietly, he sat at a large stone desk, reading over a paper of some sort. I knew it was best if I sat, he would tell me to do so either way, but I figured with me being as nervous as I was, I would begin to twirl my hair, cross my legs, play with my dress or something to that degree, he would get annoyed with my movement. So standing I would be satisfied with biting my lip.

"Aubrey." his deep voice, filled with absolute authority caught my attention on a dime, "sit."

I did so, doing my best to only twirl my pink hair- an odd shade, but natural, and I grew to love it, "yes sir?" I scorned myself for speaking, I knew he probably despised my soft, gentle voice.

"I have a deal to make with you." he stated, not one to beat around the bush, "Also, speak up when conversing with me."

"Yes sir," I said a bit louder, I nodded at him, "I am listening."

He continued to look at his paper for a moment, but soon turned his attention toward me, holding up the paper he sighed, "do you know what this letter says?"

I shook my head, hoping it was not a bad note from a nanny, I ran through everything even close to unacceptable I did since the last time I saw him, a small list, but he would be one to notice, "no sir. Did I do something to upset you?"

"No," he paused and looked me over, "Stand up and turn slowly, then you may sit again."

I did not dare to give him a questioning glance, but did as he ordered, turning slowly, than sat back in the rock hard chair across from his desk, pulling my long thick hair over my shoulder to twist, "Aubrey," he sat up straighter, "you are sixteen years old now."