I'm going to be honest. I wasn't going to continue this story. I mean, I loved writing it, don't get me wrong. It's just really hard for me to keep at it when I wasn't really getting the impression that anyone cared enough to want me to keep writing it. However, I decided to update, and actively write this novel, because of one person.
MafiaBossLoading-this whole fucking book is dedicated to you. Thank you so much for your comment. I saw it at eleven at night, and it nearly made me cry. It's impossible to communicate my gratitude in words. I was actually typing out a reply, but it didn't feel like enough. So, here's a chapter for you, written in the middle of the night (and early morning.)
I am not an author to get on her high horse and not acknowledge you. You're amazing, and because you decided not to be silent, I am gonna write this book.
And, goddammit, I'm going to finish it.
Epsilon
~~~
Now it was my turn to laugh. It started as a snicker, then bubbled from my mouth, slowly increasing in volume and hysteria. He just watched me silently, not commenting as I laughed my ass off. I sighed and ran a hand down my face.
"You do realize you are completely and one-hundred percent crazy, right? I can believe a lot, trust me, and I already assumed you weren't human. But telling me that you're Lucifer is a bit of a stretch, even for me."
"I am not lying to you, Sweetheart." The Nutcase promised, staring me directly in the eyes. He was deadly serious.
I mock-sighed in despair, putting a condescending hand on his shoulder. He was so tall that I had to stretch a bit to do so, which was awkward. "I know," I replied, looking sympathetic, "that's why I called you crazy, not a liar."
This seemed to piss him off, and his eyes flashed. "Then I'll prove it to you." He growled, and backed away from me, so he was about five feet away. Then, his blue eyes boring into mine, he flexed his muscles, which I drooled at unashamedly, and a loud CRACK! Filled the air. Shrapnel flew, and the room around me was destroyed. Once the destruction registered, my mouth fell wide open. Now, occupying the room with us, was a pair of glossy, large, black wings. They were colossal, and my brain struggled to process their sudden appearance. They spanned around twenty feet when stretched out like they were, and they were obviously well-muscled themselves. Since the room had not been big enough, they went through the walls on either side, and taken out pieces of furniture on their way.
"Well fuck." I muttered, still staring. The Sex God/Nutcase/Possible Lucifer smirked, triumphant at my astonishment.
"Believe me now?" He was so smug, the Bastard. My next words deflated him.
"Sure, sure, but did you have to destroy the room to make your point? What a giant-ass Drama Queen!" I shouted.
"Don't push me, Kitten" He warned, his muscles taut. I picked up on it immediately seized my advantage.
"I wouldn't be such a bother if you let me go." I shot back, "where are we even? Hell?"
He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it sexily. "Yes we are, and you are not going anywhere." He fixed me with an intense look, "Did you forget? God made you for me. You will never leave me, Kitten."
His arrogance pissed me off to no end. "Yeah, we'll see about that, Satan!" I snarled. If he had known me at all, he would've known that the quickest way to get me to do something was to tell me I was not allowed to. And once I was committed to something, I would achieve it, somehow.
"What does that mean, Rika?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously. I tried to ignore the things that the new nickname did to me as I met him head on.
"Exactly what it sounds like. Perhaps I should rephrase my previous statement; you will either let me go, or I will leave here on my own. It may take days, weeks, months, but I. Will. Escape." I promised, meaning every word. I watched as his eyes started to darken, his breath becoming ragged, his fists clenching.
"You. Will. Not. Leave." he snarled, his voice rough and guttural, almost animalistic. "You are mine. I will always have you, and you will always have me!"
"Aww!" A voice cooed from the demolished section of wall, "You guys are so cute! Made for each other! Adorable!" Lucifer and I swung around, glaring at the offender, who, surprise, surprise, was Marcus.
"Yeah, right. He's a gigantic misogynistic dipshit. No wonder he got stuck with me." I spat. I walked past the angel in question, brushing his partially folded wings.
"Where do you think you're going? You are not leaving!" He roared.
As I stepped through the hole in the wall, I flipped him off, not looking back. I walked for a moment before I stopped, yelling "Ay, yo, Marcus! Show me to the kitchen!"
A few minutes later, I was munching on a cheeseburger and fries, and much happier discovering that the cooks in the literal Hell's Kitchen-though they were supernatural creatures I couldn't identify-could and would happily whip up anything within minutes of request. I could tell I was going to hang out here a lot.
The dining hall was huge and, in my opinion, far too extravagant for a place meant to stuff your face. So I set up a stool at one of the unused counters in the kitchen, munching away with Marcus. Another thing I had discovered; Marcus was a pretty cool dude, and despite being friends with the pretentious asshole, he wasn't much like him at all. They were night and day, almost literally.
Marcus was telling me about the different races in the Supernatural world, and that he was a daemon. To put it lightly, it was fascinating. I may not be planning on sticking around, but I figured I might as well learn as much as I could while it was made available. Who knows? Maybe when I got back to the surface, I would do a Sam and Dean. I had already visited Hell, so I was pretty much set. Thus, when Marcus told me about their library, I jumped on the idea, and he promised he'd show me after lunch. It seemed pretty cliché, a giant library, full of books, and a young girl who loved to read, but whatever. I wasn't in any position to complain about the awful plot in this story, since I was, you know, living it.
"So what does your buddy have up his ass?" I asked Marcus, taking another gigantic bite of my burger.
Marcus burst into laughter, "You have no idea how long it has been since someone besides me had the nerve to call him out on it!" When he recovered, he just shrugged. "He has had a rough time. Managing Hell isn't the easiest task, and he doesn't work with the most cooperative of people. He is unused to having to compromise, so cut him some slack on his overbearing attitude."
I gave him a disbelieving look. "Didn't he, you know, choose this? Like, wasn't he a naughty kid and God gave him a time out?" I wasn't sure of anything, but that seemed like a pretty solid fact to me.
"No!" Marcus looked annoyed, "That whole story is complete bullshit. Think about it, who would manage Hell if Luce didn't?"
I was stumped. "Well...That makes sense, but why his 'Brightest angel'? Isn't that a little counterproductive?" despite the weight of the conversation, I eyed Marcus' fries hungrily.
"Not at all. It takes a powerful angel to manage this place. But you were partially right. God is a big fan of free will, so he did present Luce with a choice. Luce chose to make the sacrifice for his father." Marcus told me, sounding proud. I could tell he wasn't lying. I had never been religious, but it was funny to me that people had gotten the story so wrong.
"So who screwed up in the story telling? And don't say 'human error', because we aren't all bad, and I'm a little sick of the condescending tones."
Marcus snorted. "No, it wasn't you dumb fucks, believe it or not. It was the Holy dumb fucks. Michael was jealous of Luce, and spread rumors to heal his bruised ego."
I thought about that for a moment. "Sounds like a dick."
"If you're talking about a dick, it had better be mine." Lucifer's voice rang out from behind us. Marcus and I didn't even turn around.
"Oh, that little thing? No, Hun, I was talking about Michael's." I said, deliberately being vague to piss him off. Marcus snickered and gave me an approving grin.
There was a growl, and two hands appeared on either side of me. "Why were you talking about my little brother?" I rolled my eyes at his emphasis on the word 'little'.
"I don't know; he sounds like a sexy guy. Swords just do it for me I guess." I taunted nonchalantly. "And keep your hands away from me and my food or I will rip them off and eat them instead." I added, meaning the words.
Ignoring Marcus' "oh, dayum", Lucifer retracted his hands slowly, showing that he was only humoring me. I nodded in satisfaction nonetheless. That all disappeared when the asshole with wings decided to keep on talking to me.
"I have a sword too, you know." I gave him a disbelieving look. His lips were pouted, his forehead crinkled in an adorable frown.
Get it together, Ammi. He is crazy, controlling, annoying...
And freaking adorable.
"Are you seriously sulking?" I was so taken aback; the King of Hell, sulking over a sarcastic comment? Made by me?
"He most definitely is." Marcus chortled, munching some fries obnoxiously.
"Shut up!" Lucifer snarled menacingly, but Marcus just rolled his eyes and gave him an exasperated look.
"Dude, she's a verbal genius! I can't help but join in on the banter."
"I'm glad you two are getting along," Lucifer snarled, "because she will be here with us for a while."
"You keep telling yourself that, asshole!" I barked, unable to resist taking the bait.
"I won't have to, because you'll always be here to remind me." His glare leveled on me and I was held, speechless, at the comeback and at the pure passion of his stare. It seemed to burn through me. After a few moments, he spoke again, "I'll take it from here, Marcus. Go tend to your duties."
I sent the silver-haired demon a hard look, warning him not to leave. With a heavy sigh, he just shrugged, and, giving me a "sorry" look, he vanished.
"He has got to stop doing that. It's weird." I mumbled.
"Stop talking about him." Lucifer huffed, placing his hands on my hips and pressing his chiseled chest against my spine, "I want to hear about you."
"Me?" I croaked, trying to force the words from my suddenly dry throat. The fire was rekindling itself inside me, and I could scarcely remember to breathe. I could practically feel his smirk singe the back of my neck. He inhaled deeply, as if to memorize my scent.
"Yes, you, Kitten. Tell me about yourself," he nuzzled his face into my hair, "I want to know you, to understand you."
"Well, we don't always get what we want, do we?" I said, trying to shrug out of his grip, unsuccessfully. "I don't much feel like braiding each other's hair and sharing our feelings."
I could feel the power radiating off him through my back. "Well, I suppose if you don't want to talk..." He trailed off, his large hand moving to caress my stomach.
With a yelp, I wiggled free, very nearly toppling out of my chair. Stepping back, I could see the twinkle in his eyes, a smug smirk on his face. He had been teasing me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying desperately to find another subject to distract him. "Fine, you win, we can talk. Let's talk about what in the Hell-" I winced at my unintentional pun, "-happened back at my home. Who were those dudes?"
His eyes turned flinty. Glancing at the kitchen staff, which seemed overly interested in our conversation, he reached for me. I jerked back instinctively. He growled lowly in his throat, but gave me space.
"Follow me. Let's go somewhere more private."
As I followed him through the halls of Hell, my heart sank to my feet. Finding my way out of here was going to be an immeasurable feat. The twists and turns in every hall gave me motion sickness, and I was just walking. Even if my sense of direction was good to begin with, I would have no way of navigating. And, unfortunately, I didn't think Google Maps had a map for Hell. If I could even get service this far down.
When we finally arrived at wherever-the-hell Lucifer was taking me, I couldn't even tell for sure which way was up and which way was down.
He held the door open for me, looking down and momentarily winding me. He was impossibly handsome, and I was unable to function for a moment. Seeming to realize this, he grinned wolfishly, reaching the hand that wasn't holding the door out and pressing against the small of my back. He gently guided me past him, keeping his hand on me even after I had regained my cognitive function. I gasped.
He brought me to the fucking library.
It was beautiful. The room itself wasn't extremely large...but it was mindbogglingly tall. The sight nearly brought tears to my eyes. Books upon books upon books. I walked to the nearest shelf, letting my fingertips glide over the spines. Spying an obviously aged tome, I plucked it from the shelf, letting it fall open. I brought it to my face and inhaled.
Old-book smell was my crack.
Remembering my audience, I whirled around. The angel was staring at me, eyes full of wonderment and adoration. I blushed furiously.
"S-sorry- I-I'm, gonnajustputthisback." I stuttered out, mortified. Even as I turned to replace the book, I felt his gaze on me. He didn't say anything, which made me nervous, so I babbled on. "Did Marcus tell you I liked books? If so, I will pummel him. Ever heard of never kiss and tell? I mean, not like we were kissing or anything, but where are his manners-"
I was silenced by his amused chuckle. I blushed even harder.
"Your blush is lovely." He purred, his index finger stroking my cheek.
I broke out of my trance, angry at myself for acting like a horny cat. What happened to women empowerment? He was playing me like a violin.
Giving myself a mental bitch-slap, I forced myself back to reality. "Are we going to focus on what we came here for, or what?"
"You tell me."
I growled, "tell me what happened, Dammit."