It was a quiet night in Sin City. There were no crimes to solve and no criminals to arrest. A Devil and her detective laid on the soft carpet of the latter’s apartment with his niece Scarlette playing a board game while soft white flakes of snow fell from the dark, evening sky.

“Why do I have to be the shoe? I’m clearly the top hat now hand it over!” Lucy exclaimed, making a grab for the small silver hat from the little girl. “Nuh-uh! I called dibs on the top hat so you can either be the thimble or the shoe.” Scarlette said, sticking out her tongue at the fallen angel. The former Princess of Darkness humphed annoyingly. “I want to conquer real estate, not mend clothes! I’m not a bloody seamstress!” She said, making another grab for the game piece.

Detective Stanton watched the scene with an amused smile on his face. The Queen of Hell had told him once that she doesn’t like children. “Can’t stand them,” She had said without hesitation. “All the crying and screaming. I would rather go back to Hell before I have any children of my own, which I can’t, by the way, thanks to my Father.” The detective rolled his eyes and shook his head. He had told Lucy many times that she’s not the Devil, that she is a good person with a good heart but the former Lightbringer insisted that she is. “I know you don’t believe me, but I have never lied to you, Nicolas. I am the Devil, and that is the truth.” A skeptical look briefly appeared on Detective Stanton’s face but decided not to push. There is always time for that after the holidays.

“Give me the top hat, Scarlette. I’m not going to ask you again.” Lucy said through gritted teeth. The girl looked at the Lady of Hell with a nonchalant expression. “Should I give Lucy the top hat, Uncle Nick?” She asked the detective. Detective Stanton thought for a moment and pushed himself forward to whisper something in his niece’s ear. The girl smiled brightly and said to the Ruler of Hell, “Okay, Lucy, I’ll let you have the top hat.” She said. Joy spread through the Devil as she grinned from ear to ear. Then, just as she was about to take the game piece from Scarlette, the girl quickly withdrew her hand. “If you want it, it’s going to cost you.” She said with a sly smile.

“Oh, a girl after the Devil’s heart. Name your price, little human!” Lucy said, grabbing her pile of Monopoly money to pay for the silver top hat. Scarlette shook her head and said with the same sly grin, “Sorry, I don’t accept game money.” Detective Stanton laughed at his partner’s wide-eyed expression and said, “The Devil got played by a human child. Never thought I’d see the day. Pay up, Ms. Morningstar.” Grumbling under her breath, Lucy reluctantly got up, walked over to the couch and took ten dollars from her Prada wallet. The fallen angel then returned, handed the money to the little girl who accepted it happily before giving Lucy the top hat game piece. “Well-played, child. Well-played.” Lucy said before lying back down on the carpet to begin playing the game, not noticing the smirk on Detective Stanton’s face.


The Stairs

Her midnight-blue eyes gazed at the long granite steps stretching out before her with an air of annoyance. “I hate stairs,” she muttered under her breath. She was exhausted from flying up the mountain that it depleted almost all of her strength. “Note to self: never attempt to fly up a mountain ever again.” She said to herself. Taking a seat at the bottom of the staircase, she tried to catch her breath and to think of her next move. Was she ready for this? To take on whatever she finds at the top and ensure that she will emerge victorious? She snorted softly and shook her head. She should be well prepared by now, after the embarrassing battle with a vicious scorpion demon, she had vowed to herself that one day she will become stronger and better. Now that she is finally here, uncertainty began filling her mind.

The sight of the white bones littering the top of the stairs should’ve helped her make the decision to turn around and leave. Heaving a sigh, she rose to her feet and reached down to grab the hilt of the sword that’s strapped to her waist. Relieved that she still has her sword to defend herself, she took a deep breath and climbed the first step. As she climbed higher and higher the air got thinner and thinner. She huffed and puffed in short bursts trying to conserve her breath as she continued her ascent.

When she put her foot on the last step, she breathed out in relief as she used the sword as a cane to steady herself. Suddenly, a bell-like sound came from an unknown direction and into her sensitive cat ears. Fear ran down her spine as she looked around, frantically searching for the source of the sound. Instinctively, she called on her telekinetic powers but then realized she is not at full strength. Gripping tightly on the hilt of her sword, she withdrew the weapon from its sheath, ready to fight whatever evil that dared to block her path. Then everything went dead silent as a dark mahogany door materialized before her, a bright light emitting from the bottom and sides. The door then swung open as if beckoning her to enter. Tightening her grip on her sword she slowly stepped through the door.


The night was dark and hopeless. If it weren’t for the sudden rainstorm that soaked my wings to the bone, I never would have ended up in a place like this. Then again, beggars can’t be choosers, right? From what the bartender told me, the establishment opened just last month. The overall atmosphere of the place is classy to an extent but lacked in taste as I inwardly cringed at the bright pink and purple neon lights that adorned the walls. “So what can I get for you?” The bartender asked, putting a glass down on the counter. I’m not much of a drinker, but social protocol dictates that I order something. “Give me a Long Island Iced Tea, please,” I said a polite smile on my tired visage. 

Women dressed in skimpy outfits danced on the stage like sirens pulling out the desires of lust-filled men. They don’t care who they are or what they look like as long as the price was paid in full. Being a woman myself, I despised everything that their profession represents, but I can’t seem to pull myself away from the scene before me. Yes, I know I’m not any better. I’m a cat-eared, Pegasus-winged vampiress with telekinetic powers who’s going from place to place and job to job. Can’t say I’m proud of the life I’m leading, but it’s better than nothing. It’s all going to be a big fat fucking zero at the end of it all anyway. I thought bitterly as the bartender placed my drink in front of me on a cheap cardboard coaster.

I took a sip and glanced toward the stage once more. The tables around it have plates with bits of food on them and glasses of half-drunken beer dotted each table like beakers in a chemical lab. A man then sat down next to me, his demeanour screamed inebriation. “There are two kinds of people in this world, lady,” my companion slurred, pausing to take another artless swig from the bottle in his hand. “Those who make good choices and those who make bad choices.” I paid no mind to his drunken babble as I turned away from the dancers onstage and went back to nursing my drink, thinking that there just might be some truth in his alcohol-induced words.

Under The Light

The swaying yellow-orange light moved above her head like a pendulum. Back and forth with no intention of stopping. She stared at it with tired midnight blue eyes as she laid on her back on a large, squeaky bed in a rusty old cabin in the middle of the woods in Utah. Blood ebbed out from where he had entered her, trickling out onto the flat white sheet. Tears stung her eyes as memories of him above her, pounding mercilessly into her came to the forefront of her mind. She kept begging him to stop, but her desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued his onslaught.

When he finally stopped moving and removed himself from within her blood stained core, she breathed a ragged sigh of relief. Squeezing her eyes shut in shame and misery, she berated herself for putting her trust in him and to give him her heart. She thought he would never hurt her and would treasure her and love her for eternity. How could I be so fucking naive? She thought as fresh tears pooled behind her eyelids.

Suddenly, she felt wet lips touch her forehead in a chaste kiss. The kind that a parent would give a child as they kissed the child goodnight. She wanted to flinch at the contact, but she was too scared to move. The pain of having her virtue taken has dulled slightly, but it still hurts as her body begins to slowly heal itself. When she heard his footsteps retreat and the door closed shut, she covered her nude, broken body underneath the thick blanket and curled into a fetal position.

Her soul has been shattered thanks to him, and her mind will forever be scarred. The light above her head had ceased its pendulum swings. The dull yellow-orange light it emits is the only witness to her defilement. She then prayed to whatever deity that would listen that one day someone would come and change that light and maybe, by some miracle, the love of her life would change too because true love conquers all right?

About Time

“Be happy,” she whispered as she left the apartment. “I’ll always love you.” 

The first rays of the sun shone through the window. A prone male figure stirred on the bed as he returned from Dreamland. Last night had been the best night of his entire life. He had made passionate love to the woman of his dreams and just as she was about to drift off, he whispered those three words that one dared not say until one is truly ready. He turned to his side and felt around for his beautiful companion, only to find her side of the bed cold and empty.

Startling awake, he sat up and called out her name. Silence greeted him as confusion flooded his mind. “Why would she leave?” He muttered, trying to figure out why his beloved would do something like this. Grabbing his phone, he decided to call her and get some answers. The phone rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up. Ending the call with a frustrated sigh, he opened up the text message application and texted her every five seconds until she returns his call. Then, just as he was about to send the tenth message, his phone rang, playing his ringtone. He pressed the green answer button, and an annoyed female voice said, “What are you, twelve?”

Suppressing a relieved chuckle, he said, “I missed you. Why did you leave?” A long pause loomed in the air as he waited for a response. “I have my reasons.” She said quietly. “Please do me a favour and don’t call or text me again, goodbye.” She said as she ended the call. He held the phone away from his ear, unwilling to believe what he just heard. She wants him to not contact her anymore? What had he done wrong? Was he unsatisfactory in bed? That can’t be! All the women he had slept with said that he was the best that they’ve ever had.

“I have to talk to her,” He said as he got out of bed and quickly got dressed. He is going to make her see that they’re meant to be together and that there would be no one else for him but her. Somewhere, a winged figure watched the scene from the shadows. A smile appeared on her face as she whispered, “About time.” before disappearing into the darkness.