Page 5 of The Daughter of the Devil

“I knew the classes would be uninteresting, but I didn’t think they would be mind-numbingly boring,” I whine to Alistair as I push my food around on the plate, long having given up on eating what remains after trying it. Taking in his hums of agreement and knowing Alistair is a demon of few words, I don’t expect much of an answer. After swishing the slop on my plate around a little longer, I catch something moving in my periphery. I look at the girl on the other side of the table and see her still staring. Now she has abandoned her meal in favor of staring at us inquisitively.

Once our gazes meet, I expect her to turn away and pretend she isn't eavesdropping on our conversation, but she doesn’t. Meeting my cold stare dead on, she agrees with my previous statements. It’s odd to say the least, but I don’t reply to her comments, finding her intrusion annoying.

I turn back to complaining to Alistair, “Not to mention the smell.” I say offhandedly, face scrunching up in memory of all the awful odors I have been assaulted with since I stepped foot in this building.

“Oh yeah, people need to learn how to use deodorant, especially the football team.” The girl added after listening to me talk about the foul odor most humans carry with them. While I was used to everyone agreeing with me on things due to my status back home, there was a sense of righteousness coming over me with every affirmation since it was coming from a mortal. Demons crave power over mortals, losing my abilities does not change that. I smile to myself as she starts complimenting me. “By the way, I love your eyes. They’re so pretty, they remind me of a turquoise stone I have in my room. It’s my favorite color, you know. And you look great as a brunette, I wish my hair was as straight as yours. You need to tell me what shampoo you use. Your hair is gorgeous, it looks so healthy.” As she gushes about my hair, I flip it over my shoulder. Long brown locks fall behind my back as I sit straighter and hold my head up high, pride gleaming off me. Okay, so she isn't so bad. At least she wasn't a cheerleader. I like her even more when we introduce ourselves formally and she tells me her name is Sierra Hubboard, all while completely ignoring Alistair. Unlike those cheerleaders, she didn't even grant him a sliver of attention, only speaking directly to me. This pleases me greatly as I didn't have to prevent another mortal from flirting with my demon servant.

Not two minutes after that line of thought, a group of girls approach our table, being led by none other than Annabelle. Sensing my annoyance, Alistair looks at me in worry before trying to hide his emotions behind a mask of nonchalance and pretending to be interested in the meal on his tray he has barely touched.

“Hi Alistair, Morgana. How were your first classes here?” Annabelle asks while staring directly at Alistair and ignoring Sierra’s presence entirely. Feeling her stare, Alistair looks up from his plate.

“They were fine.” His dry response wipes the smile off her face and plants it directly on mine.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Got to make sure you two are all set since I’m the student representative and all, right?” She declares as if her title means anything to either one of us. The awkward silence that follows is irritating. “So, I just came by to let you two know that there is a Halloween party this weekend and you’re both invited. It’s a pretty big deal and everyone important will be there.” At her last remark, she made sure to look at Sierra up and down before ignoring her again, obviously excluding her on purpose. Sierra looks like she expected that and turns back to her food.

“Oh, and we are invited?” My tone is inquisitive since this is our first day, you couldn't say that I wasn't at least trying.

“Yes, you two seem cool and it’s a great way to meet people.” She says smiling and looking at Alistair directly as she says the last part.

“I guess we’ll see you there then.” I say in place of acknowledging her statements as she passes me a flier announcing the event, including the date, time, and place. Annabelle leaves soon after, not seeing any enthusiasm on Alistair’s part to attend the party. I read over the flier again taking in the gaudy cartoon depictions of a pumpkin and ghost figures scattered across the paper, their figures outlined by an orange and black background. If the humans believe this to be scary, I will need to correct their notion of true fear.

“You have to be careful with them.” Sierra says unprompted.

“Why?” Humans can’t scare me, much less hurt me.

“They are sneaky, they always have a secret agenda for what they do.” Sierra warns, indicating the general direction the girls went with a slender finger. Her words reminded me of a time long ago when I was intrigued by the Soul crystals enough to defy my father’s instruction to wait until I was of age to work in the dungeons. I sneaked into a dungeon chamber where a crystal trapped a soul of a mortal teenager. I was so curious to see what all the fuss was about. And the crystal didn't disappoint, making all my ideas become a reality for its prisoner. I spent hours forcing the teenager to climb ropes in a gym similar to one in their memories from before their death. Making sure they would fall over and over, watching as they cried and their coach in their false reality, portrayed by me, made them get up and struggle to climb it again. All their peers laughed at them when they cried out with each fall, making them even more embarrassed. It was truly entertaining, and my first dose of what torture does to feed a demon. I have never felt my Chaos as strong and vibrant before as I did that day. It was part of the reason I was so insistent on working in the dungeons sooner than my father had planned.

Sierra calling my name brings me back from reminiscing, but I respond with a straight face. “I think it would be entertaining to watch them make a fool of themselves but it’s a stupid and pathetic human activity. I won’t waste my time going to that sort of event.” I say to Alistair making up my mind. He merely nods in agreement.

I look at Sierra when I hear her laughing. “You’re really funny.” She said, smiling at me brightly.

For the first time all day, I feel myself smiling at a human. I switch topics and ask about her classes. I want to see what other classes we may have together and came to find out all three of us have Chemistry together right after lunch.

I've decided that Sierra is okay, for a human anyway.

6

Confrontation

Morgana

The school day eventually ends, and I couldn't be more relieved to leave. Walking outside, I pick up the sounds of loud laughter and female voices mixing in with the rest of the school population. Once I reach the sidewalk, I can clearly hear the talking emanating from beside the school. I think nothing of it until we walk to that side of the building, as it’s on our route home, and I see Annabelle cornering Sierra. Her little subordinates mindlessly laugh at her jokes made at Sierra’s expense. I catch the end of one of her remarks, mocking her prey.

“And where did you get those ugly pants? The thrift shop?” she cackles in that nasally laugh that only irritates me more. Her friends are laughing while Sierra looks close to tears, melting against the sidewall of the school as if she wanted it to engulf her. I normally don't care about what mortals do to their own kind in these situations, but I feel anger bubbling up inside me now at the scene playing out in front of me. Maybe it has to do with the relentless flirting Annabelle tried to pull off with Alistair. Or perhaps it has to do with the fact that Sierra is the only mortal I have found to be remotely tolerable compared to the others who tried to engage us in conversation today, all of whom we ignored for the most part. All except Sierra, who complimented me endlessly and went along with all my preconceived ideas of her world.

While that was the more reasonable conclusion, I have no reasonable excuse for how my anger flares up when I see one of Annabelle’s lackeys lunge forward and grasp Sierra’s ponytail in her grasp before harshly pulling her down. I could intervene, but why should I? A mortal soul is a fragile thing, intervening could paint an unwanted target on my back by the cheer squad from hell. The idea alone of dying on Earth and my soul becoming one of the tormented is far from desirable.

My thoughts take the better of me and I don’t notice my own feet move toward the situation. Whilst one of the girls still holds Sierra’s ponytail, I stand behind Annabelle clearing my throat. She whips her blonde hair around to look at me.

“This doesn’t concern you.” She scoffs. “Unless you want to bow before us of your own free will.” Bow? Bow?

“Listen carefully, Malibu Barbie.” I begin, taking a step closer toward the she-demon in half-inch heels. “Under no circumstance would you or any of your bleached bimbos ever make me bow to you. Your insignificance is beyond your comprehensible understanding and although you try your best to be the be-all and end-all of your little group, I pity you. Because at the end of the day you will go home and stare into the mirror wondering if you’ll ever be good enough. But let me tell you what you should be thinking.” I silently thank my father below for having the knowledge the Soul Crystals gave me about human society and the way they demean each other in the back of my mind, otherwise I would resort to insults from Hell that would not be as effective here. I smirk, taking another step closer to her. “You should be thinking, ‘what is Morgana doing standing behind me with a knife?’” The last part came out in a whisper and Annabelle’s lips curl up - in disgust or fear I’m unsure. I don’t flinch as I see her hand move upward. I want her to hit me, because then everything I do to her after that is self-defense, and no point in getting kicked from high school on the first day.

Anger insights me, as I didn’t notice Alistair step forward towards the group. He clutches onto Annabelle’s wrist, inches from my face.

“Alistair! She - it’s just a bug, I swear.” Lying filth. I might be the daughter of the Devil, but you’d never catch me lying without good reason. I see Alistair’s eyes narrow at her from my peripheral vision.

“I’ll take over from here then.” His voice somewhat echoes his demonic one. Annabelle’s back straightens as she turns away, avoiding further eye contact and gesturing for the group to follow her. Offering his hand to Sierra she willingly accepts it. I step back as she explodes in gratitude, hugging Alistair like he was a long-lost relative. He just stays frozen in her embrace, not really reciprocating the gesture.

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