Satan's Kid Isn't too Bad | Teen Ink

Satan's Kid Isn't too Bad

January 26, 2017
By Anonymous

My Beginnings
Huh, I wonder if anyone will actually read this. Well I guess it doesn’t really matter. My name is Azazel Shade and I am the son of Satan. Did I lose you yet? No? Cool. Let me start off by describing myself a bit. My father, Satan himself, had a love child with a mortal human on one of his vacations away from hell. After I was born and he became bored with his relationship with my mother, his twisted mind decided to slit her throat. After my mother’s death, one of Satan’s own demons defected and decided to hide and take care of me. Now you might be wondering what a child of Satan could even look like.
Character Development: I looked like a mystery to most. My eyes were a bright auburn as if a fire slowly burning out. I had a habit of running my hand, beige pale, through the ashy gray strands of my hair that would slowly fall across my forehead, while the sides of my head were cropped close. I am 6’2” but I wouldn’t say my weight is quite proportional. I looked lanky… maybe more like wiry, due to the lean muscle across my body. The home gym was starting to pay off I guess. Whenever leaving the house I always dressed in new and expensive clothes. Extended tees of all sorts would brush past the bottom of my monochrome, baggy sweatshirts, meeting the stresses and rips of my close-fit pants. My style and height made it a hard time for people to guess my age. I’m only 17, but no one else has to know that. Now your next question might be: But where could a child of Satan even live?
Setting: I never grew up in poverty. I guess I was lucky in that one way. My house, that I grew up in would probably be considered too much to process by most. This house holds no loving memories; it is not a home to me. The outside was designed with antebellum architecture in mind. In layman’s terms, it looked like a house that belonged on a plantation. That fact alone made me hate it. Instead of the walls of the house being a chalky white, like the wealthy slavers used to like it, the walls were painted a dark blood red. When the sun dipped in the horizon you'd think the walls were a deep jet black. The dark red contrasted against the rolling green shrubbery and rising trees surrounding the house like a mud spot in freshly laid snow. When pushing open the heavy oak front door, many caught there breath. The inside looked… well, very expensive. Dark marble tiles lined the floor, so often polished you could almost see your reflection. After walking in, you would look up to meet a very large chandelier taking up your entire view. Huge crystals were intricately placed to form a monster of beauty. Oh and don't even get me started on the trim of the house. One word, gold. The trim that tried to introduce the walls with the ceiling and floor looked to be crafted from solid gold and hand engraved.
Whether you decided to explore further on the first floor or climb the looming staircase that seemed to stare at you, you would be met with continuous shock from the around the house. Room after room seemed to open up something more impressive and room after room most became intimidated. Expensive artifacts dug from the wonders of the world or trophies from big game hunts. It's been a struggle not to take a baseball bat to it all. But by far the biggest shocker of the house is my room. Opening my soulless colored door one must shield their eyes. Divine, the light radiated from my room as if the Gates of Heaven were opening up. White paint slapped on all four sides. What? You thought I was going to keep the color scheme of the house? These walls constantly rebelled the gaudy and dark nature of the rest of the house. You could not imagine how frustrated Mr. Alastor, the butler and my demon guardian, was when he walked in to see cans of white paint. His low hanging nose hairs seemed to turn scarlet, matching the anger in his face. He eventually got over it.
My room seemed… well normal. My king sized bed sat in the corner with an ocean blue comforter on top. My closet was filled to the brim with clothes that could literally last a lifetime, Mr. Alastor was not so forgiving when he read my last credit card bill. On the wall opposite to my bed hung a slim and sleek 75 inch flat screen t.v. that had netflix locked and loaded. Above the t.v. hung my most prized possession. It was a massive sword that was fixed into a clear case. I was told that it was called the Sun’s Sword and that it is a rare artifact, but it didn’t seem like it at first. I found it almost radiating through a partially ripped garbage bag on the side of the road during one of my shopping splurges. I only initially took it because if you look close it gives off a shine and light that seems to cut through even the deepest shadows of the room. It also has the tendency to strengthen the light from the sun that peeks through my window. This window, allowing me to properly see the beautiful stars that spread out the entire sky. These clear night skies, for brief instances, allow me to forget about my crazy life.
Curse: Now let’s talk about my newly awakened powers. Yeah I have powers. No I’m not a superhero. You’d think I’d be a villain, but don’t worry, I only have an unquenchable thirst for murder every once and awhile. Sometimes when I get angry enough my vision goes red and my eyes glow crimson and I slowly lose consciousness. When I wake up from the murderous spree there is quite a lot of destruction left behind. Luckily Mr. Alastor is good at cleaning up my messes. This deadly power first came to me after a pretty scary nightmare. How cliche right? I had a bad feeling going to bed one night and as soon as I closed my eyes I saw my father.
“Where am I?” I shouted over the screaming of lost souls around me. I had never seen this deathly setting before as glowing brown souls flew by me, but I had a guess. I was in the depths of Hell. I looked down and the Sun’s Sword was gripped in one of my hands. It's light shooing the screaming souls away like flies. I looked forward and I felt like I needed to puke. The devil, my father, stood in front of me with a glare that could literally end lives.
“You’ve always been ungrateful for the gifts I have passed down to you Azazel,” He said almost with a sly smile. He's eyes shot from me to the sword, and with a dry chuckle he continued, “I’d hope to never see that thing again,”
“Grateful? Hah. For the evil blood that runs through my veins? Nah dad, I don’t feel too grateful.” I blasted with a sarcastic anger, unintentionally ignoring the sword comment.
“My blood is the only greatness that you have. And you waste it on fighting your true heritage,” The devil explained with a wicked smile on his face.
“My blood is only a reminder that you killed my mother. How can you stand there and smile after doing something so terrible?” I questioned him.
“Hahaha haha hahahaha” Satan doubled over laughing so hard he was crying. The dude had blood tears running down his face. I guess that shouldn’t have surprised me, but it made me even more angry.
“Why are you laughing?!” I screamed as my voice switched octaves.
“Because my son, Alastor never told you the truth. It’s quite funny actually. I was never the one to kill your mother. You were.” He said stifling back a laugh. I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. It didn’t make any sense to me.
“Wh-What?” I managed with a voice crack and the obvious expression that this news hit me like a bus.
“On the day you were born you, you were too young to control your hunger for death. Seems like you've got a handle on it now. That's when I found you in your mother's arms with her throat slit and the bloodied knife in your lap.” He explained to me.
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. My heart sank to my stomach. I kept thinking to myself, This can’t be true! Can it? This is when my powers first hit me. Pure rage rose within my chest. As I felt the cold anger reach my eyes, my vision turned blood red and everything around me twisted and turned. Every fiber of skin flared and burned, making me hunch over in agony. I started to scream, my hands gripping my face, but my voice couldn’t seem to reach my own ears. As my head built up pressure and finally felt like it would burst, one word rang in my head relieving all the pain. Kill. This is when my body started to work without my permission and I lost consciousness.
Rays of light pressed against my eyelids and all I could see was the bright blue sky. When you fall asleep in your bed, see the devil in your nightmare, and wake up in the woods looking up at the sky, it is quite disorienting. Oh I also woke up just in my boxers and socks, which would have been more embarrassing if I wasn’t so confused. The smell of something seared caught my attention. A pile of ashes that once used to be my pajamas seem to have charred and burned right off me. It was a true shame. The pajamas were Gucci. As I heaved myself up, dirt and pebbles slid off my shoulders and legs. I looked around with groggy shock. It looked like I was laying in the middle of a crater created by a meteor. The trees were singed and destroyed around me. Instead of processing the dream I just had or the cavity I was snoozing in, somehow I managed my way out of the hole. I clumsily stumbled and tripped out as I moved, only on the verge of falling a couple times. Impressive right? Well you would think so if you could feel the pain I was feeling. Every move I made rippled a sort of suffering that could only be described as 7th degree sun burn. Luckily, as I started to hobble through the woods, I knew exactly where I was.
Looking forward I never thought I could be so happy to see the color of blood. My monstrous house was only a short ways away. “Thank Christ!” I said to myself under my breath. Which looking back on was a weird thing for someone like me to say, but hey I was relieved. My relief instantly turned into anxiety because only 20 feet and decreasing was my white-haired demon butler, and he did not seem overly happy with me.



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