"I am as vain as I allow."

– Lady Gaga, So Happy I Could Die

The demon sings happily, his horns protruding on his temple, nodding his head. I grumble under my breath. The fear is still there – the fear of being chased, of being wanted to be killed. "Thank you." I murmur, hoping that he wouldn't hear it. But he does.

Still in demon form, he slings his arm around my neck and I freeze. To be honest, I'm scared that I'm standing beside a demon who's in his demon form. Demons are really powerful when they are in their true form. But something tells me that it's not really his true demonic form. I feel like there's something about him, something that would shock me even more.

The feel of his skin against mine is hot, like burning hot. It's like he's been submerged in a sea of fire but surprisingly I never feel the burn. I can only feel how warm he is.

"So..." his voice holds a teasing tone and I narrow my eyes at him. "You said that you'd never attempt to escape again," My body has become rigid. I turn to look at him in the face and see that there's something in his voice that I'm not shocked to see – the demon is grinning from ear to ear. "From what I've heard, when you swear upon your God's name, it's powerful and it shall not be broken by the one who promised it. Is it correct?" I gulp, nodding my head. "And the only way for it to be broken is to shower you with a blessed water that you can only get in the Fountain of Purity, and it shall be poured by the King's hands while the Queen speaks holy prayers. Am I correct?" I nod again.

"How'd you know all that?"

"Pft," he sticks out his tongue like a kid he is and I narrow my eyes suspiciously at him.

"Seriously,"

"I'm not going to tell you, little angel, so drop it." He growls and I back away, suddenly tensing and scared of him. His brown eyes have become black, and they no longer seem beautiful to me. I look away, gulping. It must have been loud because it echoes around the alley, or it could just be because I'm imagining it. "Now let's go and be my slave."

"What?"

He arches his brow at me. "Are you seriously going to make me repeat what I've said?"

I shake my head. "Okay, okay! Calm down!"

Slate smirks and nods, then he flicks his finger in my direction and a small red orb has been thrown my way, and then when it hits me, I suddenly get dizzy as my world spins and in a few seconds, I'm back in the apartment we're living in Brooklyn; the view of the bridges are still as beautiful as when I last saw it. They are magnificent.

The streets are crowded with mortals, and though my eyesight when I have become a (temporarily – I'm hoping!) human lessened, not that great, I can still see what I've seen before; they're always busy.

"Go get me some water," the demon commands.

I just stare at him for a couple of seconds, and his eyes narrow at me. I tremble. "Okay." Slate is basically the master here, and I'm the servant – of course it's because I don't have the power to defy him. If I do, in my mortal state, I'd turn into an ash. I still want to see my parents before I die. He chuckles, and then motions for him to go on and give him some water. I oblige, much to my dismay. I head to the kitchen area, and find him an empty glass. I head over to the sink, open the faucet, and fill the empty glass with water. I then head over to the demon, who's slouching on the couch, watching whatever it is on the television. I frown at him. Slate is still in his demon form, and while I don't want to go there, I have to or else he'll get my head chopped off.

Walking toward his direction, I hand him the glass of water he commanded me to give him, and when his fingers curled around the glass, he frowns immediately. "Cold water." I groan out loud, and he glares at me. I whip around, run back into the kitchen, and get him some cold water. This is the time that I want to splash the cold water on his face, just like what I've seen on a movie. I just don't remember the title, but I remember two ladies slapping each other, or killing each other, I'm not so sure; I haven't completed watching the movie. Mortals. I head back to the living room, and hand him his request.

Slate hums in approval, and I watch him for a couple of seconds, but his eyes never leave the television. I sigh, turn around, but his fingers curl around my wrist and the demon pulls me back. My bottom lands on his lap, and my back hits his chest. I flush, squirming my way out but his arms curl around me, and his chin rests on my shoulder. From the corner of my eyes, I can see the horns protruding on his temple. He throws me a smirk, that sly smirk he always wears, and focuses his eyes back on the television. I realize that I don't have much of choice but to oblige and watch whatever it is on the television, or whatever he's watching.

For a couple of minutes I try to watch the show, which is... a green meanie, what I've heard on the show, begins to murder whoever is in the hospital. I cringe, and narrow my eyes. Of course this is what the demon is watching – murder shows. Why am I not surprised? I scoff and roll my eyes. The demon's arms tighten around me, so tight that it makes my stomach hurt. He loosens, and from the corner of my eyes, I see how long his lashes are, and though his eyes are almost black, I can perfectly see how brown his eyes are, and how beautiful they are. Are the beautiful traits common for a demon? His traits are well-made, as if God himself molded the demon.

After watching half an hour, my eyelids start to droop, and my head is falling forward and it manages to jolt me awake. The demon chuckles, and shakes his head at me. I frown at him, but sleepiness is quickly taking over me, and soon, I feel myself falling, but I feel my head rests on someone's hands, and my eyes close shut, and the moment it closes, I know that I'll be falling asleep, that I'll be leaving this world to let me enter the dreams.

They are burning; the people are burning. The sky has become dark. Millions and millions of creatures – dark creatures – pour out of the sky, as if they are a beads of rain. What shocks me is that they came out of the sky itself, and it feels like the home of the Angels has been destroyed. There's a part of me that says my family is okay, and the other angels are okay. But as my eyes focus on the creatures, who are so not nice, with their gnawing claws and fangs, I know that something bad has happened.

People are on the loose, running around the streets, screaming their fear out and then I see them – the demons who tried to rule the world millions of years ago as what I've read on the books of history. I recognize their faces, even though I haven't seen them personally. I have seen them on the books.

Standing on the ruins of a building are Astaroth, Beelzebub, Dagon, Euronymous, Kali, and Bucavak. Some of the demons I don't recognize, but I know that they are powerful enough to destroy a world.

The other demon is holding a rugged mortal in his arms. The more I stare, the heavy I feel. The more I watch, the weaker I get. It feels like this is my fault; there's a part of me that tells me I should have done something to stop this, but couldn't. I feel my wings opening wide, and I realize that there's something wrong with me. I don't feel good or bad, but what I feel is fury and rage and light and hope. They are all mixed together, and it's confusing me. I am different, I am sure of that.

People keep screaming, shouting help.

I take a look closer, and something strikes me – the one the demon is holding is no other than Léandre, my servant, my brother, a warrior. He's wearing the typical warrior clothes, but there's smudges of ichor all over his torn pants and on the hem of his clothes. The way he breathes is slow, as if he's slowly dying, which he probably is. I run toward their direction, and all the demons look at me, and they give me a smirk.

Someone runs along beside me; I take a look at my right and the first thing I see is the brown eyes, and then his jaw, and then his determined look. I feel like I've seen him before, but not sure. As the moment he looks at me, I feel something inside me flicks –

I wake up, panting hard. I notice that I'm inside the room, with the demon looming in front of me. His eyes are hard and confused, as if he doesn't know what to do. "Nightmare," I simply say, almost dismissively. Swinging my feet to the ground, I stand up and nearly stumble back down but the demon's hand catches my hand and pulls me forward. "Thanks." I murmur, not looking at him in the eye.

Slate murmurs something about a demon spirit named Epiales, and that he doesn't feel his presence her, so it's not impossible that I've had a really bad nightmare. I scratch the back of my head and head into the kitchen to get me some water.

The dream felt real to me; it could be a prophecy or something. Prophecies have been happening – the prophecy for the Zodiac City is done, and the prophecy for the werewolves are almost done, but there's a lot of prophecies that have been missing for about millions of years, and they are yet to be found. I run a hand across my face, frustrated. In the dream I am different; it's almost I don't recognize myself at all. I feel like a part of me is a demon, and the other part of me is angel, but there's another part of me that feels human.

"Are you okay?"

I jump, turning around. "Hell, don't do that." I curse, which makes the demon chuckles.

"What's your dream, err, nightmare about?" he asks me curiously, tilting his head to the side while he crosses his arms.

Averting my eyes, I shake my head. "It's nothing; it's just about my parents and Earth and something crazy." I say dismissively, hoping that he'd let go. He does. The demon just shrugs and I give him a weak smile.

We head back to the living room, and I turn my head to the left and see the glittering lights of the bridges. I smile despite what I'm feeling. This city never fails to amaze me, and I hope that I'd get to see this every night.

"Let's just sleep and forget about this nightmare I've had," I say and head back to my room. I'm surprised that the demon follows me inside and I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously. I cross my arms, and then he just looks at me with nothing but an innocent look. I scoff. As if he's innocent. He has probably tortured a lot of mortals and angels before. Agreeing to the fact that I can't really do anything but to let him stay in my room, I dive into the bed and get snuggly and comfortable, sighing out loud once my face buries in the soft pillow.