2. Demon 101

"All right, ready for today's lesson?" Franco asks me.

"Depends on what we're doing," I say cautiously.

After our escape from the hospital, we found ourselves an abandoned apartment complex. It wasn't in the best condition, but it was livable enough for two demons who just want to get their footing. What's even better was that, next to the apartment complex was an abandoned gym. The perfect arena for our training once we happened on it.

Since demons don't sleep, Franco insisted that we did a little looting first to get some extra changes of clothes. That had been an oddly thrilling experience. Mainly, half of my wardrobe was workout things and the other half wasn't.

So now, here we are, in the boxing ring, decked out in workout gear in the middle of the night. My eyes take in the dust particles swinging around in the air. I've pulled my dark hair back for this. Franco has decided that a shirt isn't necessary. Let me tell you, it's very difficult to not stare, especially with the scarring.

"Let's test out your fighting skills first, before we get into the more...magical concepts." He slowly starts to circle me. "Show me what you know."

I run blindly for him, swinging. He ducks, kicking my back. I go stumbling against the ropes, ricocheting off them. I quickly block his punch and strike in a hit on his ribs. I throw my weight against him, forcing me away from the rope wall. I halt, and he goes stumbling forward.

"Good," he says. He goes for me this time, and I block the strikes to my face.

The parries of flesh against flesh echo in the abandoned gym. I hiss as I feel his foot connect with my leg. I spin, lashing out. He grabs my arm, catapulting me forward, sending me to the ground. I grit my teeth, shoving him away with a push of extra power inside of me. I see Franco lift off the ground and land on his stomach in the ring.

"Well, looks like we can skip that lesson," he grunts, picking himself up off the floor. We run for each other at the same time, and he body slams me to the ground. The air is taken out of my lungs, and I knock my head into his. He tries to straddle me, restraining my arms above my head. I kick on the ring floor in frustration. "Sloppy method there, Avery." He tisks.

"Excuse me for my muscle memory not kicking in." I frown, catching my breath. "Your meat-suit take up boxing?"

"Nope, that's all me." He smirks. "And that is your muscle memory. Sloppy muscle memory."

I grunt, wiggling uneasily. "Then help me perfect it, and whatever I just did with our version of the Force. You say I'm a demon, help me embrace that."

"You've got an eager attitude. Good." He unpins my arms, helping me up. "We'll work on your skills a bit before we put you out on the field."

I tilt my head. "Do we serve under anyone? Got a boss to answer to?" I frown slightly at my own question. I hope I don't respond to anyone.

"We don't, no. We have a King, sure, but..." He chuckles. "I personally think it's time for a new era, with what he's done. Hell barely functions properly, as you and I are living proof of that. It doesn't get escapees too often."

"Sounds like Hell's gone pretty lax."

"It did long enough for us to escape. Less talking, more fighting."

We resume our fighting, tossing each other towards the ring's ropes. I sometimes think they'll break with how forceful we're sent into them. I can sense that Franco is holding back, because he's letting me hit him more. He's trying to act as though his reflexes are slowing, tiring. I know they're not.

"Come on, you weren't going soft on me before," I whine in protest as I throw a punch towards his head. "How will I learn if you don't bring your A-game?"

Franco backs off, panting lightly. Maybe I'm actually tiring him out. But why do I feel like I can run around the world? How come I'm chockfull of energy? "How about we focus on our...other skills?"

I stop bouncing around. "Am I wearing you out, old man?"

He chuckles. "Your words have never sounded truer."

"Just how old are you, Franco?"

"Old enough. Now isn't story time." He beckons to me. "Come at me."

"But you just said—"

"I know what I said, I want to show you something. Come at me."

Shrugging, I appease him and run for him. I'm about three-quarters of the way to him. I'm about to lunge, when I'm suddenly pushed into a standstill. My limbs have locked, frozen, like someone's hit pause on my life. I can't even move my head to look down and see how real this is for me.

Franco watches me knowingly. "Pretty badass, huh?"

"I thought you were gonna push me back," I say. At least I'm allowed to talk.

"Nah, this is way cooler. Pushing people away is too easy anyway. This takes skill. Time and dedication, and blah, blah, blah." Franco steps towards me. I can barely twitch. "You'll get to this level one day, Avery. But...with how you discovered your ability, that day may come pretty soon."

"Tell me, since I'm clearly not going anywhere right now, what's our purpose?" I ask curiously. "As demons?"

"Well, if history has taught you anything—right or wrong—you'd know that Lucifer is the one who created us. We're creatures of Hell. For those of us who lurk on Earth, we create absolute chaos and panic. We strike fear into the hearts of humans and hope that we get away with what we can."

I notice the etchings in his face. "What makes you say that?"

Franco walks slowly around my locked body, his hand still pushed out towards me. "Where there are creatures like us, there are beings who want to prevent us from doing what we do best."

"You mean, like, angels or something?" I guess it's not hard to wrap my head around. If demons exist, angels must too.

He snorts. "Angels aren't our big concern, though they do give us a run for our money in the power department. No, I'm referring to, dear Avery, these humans that call themselves hunters. Not deer hunters, hunters of things like you and me, things of the supernatural."

I close my eyes shut. My brain is back to hurting again. Something's breaking through. It's almost like seeing through a fog. There's no red, with what I'm seeing. I'm seeing faces. Male faces. One that holds ocean-blue eyes and dark hair. Another with thick, longer length hair, a pointed chin, and striking hazel eyes. The last one has a chiseled face and hardened green eyes with a look so severe it can curdle milk.

Who are these people to me? I have no names to them. They must be somehow part of who I am, why else would I see their faces in my head?

"Aves?" Franco's voice tries to bring me out of my thoughts. "Aves, what's wrong?"

"Head," I grunt, feeling the pain increase.

"Must be your memories trying to surface."

"How come you aren't having this issue?"

"Because I know who I am. Look at me, Avery. Open your eyes."

I do, and I want full control back, because Franco is a little too close. I can see the flecks of green in his deep blue eyes.

"Who you were doesn't exist anymore. She's gone," he says quietly, smoothly. "You're a whole new identity now. New body included. You choose what you want to do. My suggestion: bury that past and leave it that way. Your life is much better than it ever had been."

"You don't know that," I whisper.

"Trust me, being a creature that possesses power trumps being a human any day of the year." He smirks. "And I'll prove it to you. You'll see that I'm right." He backs off, and I stumble forward as I feel control come back to me. "You need someone to guide you, Aves. Point you in the right direction. I can help you become something great, something strong, something powerful. You just have to want it."

I lick my lips in thought. Who you were doesn't exist anymore. She's gone. You're a whole new identity now. New body included. But what does Franco know about me? We were probably strangers sharing a cell or neighbors in Hell. His face doesn't come to mind, so he's not from my past.

You choose what you want to do. My suggestion: bury that past and leave it that way. Can I bring myself to do that? Bury a past that's currently escaping me? What if I don't want to bury it? What if I'm curious about it? What if I want to know my past, and all that's keeping it from happening is time?

"So, what do you say, Avery?" Franco asks. "You want to sit around and hope your old life comes back to you, or do you want a fresh start?"

You want the power, you just won't admit that to yourself. It's okay to want power. Everyone faces this temptation in life. Don't fight it. That's definitely my conscience talking.

"If you say no, you're on your own. Not that I don't think you could handle yourself, but you're new to this whole demon gig," Franco continues. I try to avoid staring at his shirtless, scarred body. "I'll ask again. What do you say?"

Those three faces come back to the front of my brain again. The hazel eyes, the blue eyes, and the green eyes. They're familiar, but their names escape me. Or they've been deleted entirely. What are they in relation to my past?

If I died and went to Hell and came out like this, in a new body, they won't know who I am. As far as those guys know—whoever they are to me—I'm dead. I'm gone.

"I'm in," I finally say.

Franco smiles. "I thought you would say that. Now, one last thing, the ultimate proof that you're committed to this." I shy away when he reaches for my face. "I won't hurt you, I promise. This little arrangement requires trust, Avery."

"I'm not sealing my new life with a kiss from you," I growl.

Franco chuckles. "Please, don't think of me like that. Now, let me see those black beauties."

I blink at him. "Those what?"

He sighs, a little impatient. "On top of seeing our true forms, like how you and I can see past the meat-suits and see our real faces, we show what we are with our eyes. It'll be instinctive. Show me those black beauties, Avery."

I look at Franco strangle, quirk my mouth a little. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to do that, but okay then. I close my eyes, letting them shut a little longer than normal, before I open them again. I don't see my vision turn black, so, maybe I did it wrong?

But according to the smile on Franco's face, I didn't.

"Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, Avery," he whispers.

**[stares at Franco]

I'm just saying, if Jo hadn't gone to Hell, Franco wouldn't exist. Period. *dreamy sigh*

Yeah, kind of twisted to want a demon to not die because of how attractive he is, right? Got to give him one thing: he helped "Avery" get out of the morgue.

If you're already digging him, he'll be sprinkled in the story. Take him in while you can, angels.**