TRIGGER WARNING:

This book demands a strong suicide trigger warning!!! If you or someone you know is in poor mind space, is a survivor of suicide, has PTSD, or is considering suicide, please do not continue to read. Please call the suicide hotline. Things get better.

USA: 988 (Core International numbers on the previous page)

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AARON

It's astonishing how a single decision can forever alter your life's course. Each choice directs you onto a distinct path, even seemingly insignificant ones like a woman placing her cart on the curb even after locking eyes with me from my car.

So, what was I up to that evening?

I found myself in my room, clutching a bottle of pills to my chest and a stolen beer bottle from my father's liquor cabinet in my right hand, collapsing onto the bed. My lips had turned a pale blue, and my complexion mirrored the whitewashed walls of my room. Dim sunlight filtered through the sheer black curtains, casting a shimmer on my eyes while my hair lay unevenly.

Do you see where this is headed? If not yet, you'll soon catch on. The silver lining here was its swiftness. The unfortunate aspect stood beside my chilled, lifeless body in my bedroom.

"Aaron!" she shouted again, her voice growing louder as if some supernatural force could awaken me from slumber and compel a response. But I remained motionless. Her warm form pressed against my cold, inert one, her tears dampening my pale skin. Her lips brushed against my earlobe.

She used to be an entitled daddy's girl. Cecily and I had been close, but that changed when her boyfriend, Jared, a drug user, entered the scene.

She slipped the pill bottle into her jacket pocket before leaving my body to rest by the bedside. My fingers traced her spine as I became more visible, my spectral figure brushing against her before my attention shifted elsewhere. Cecily's eyes widened, even though she couldn't see me. Her breath formed fog in the air as she scanned the room.

A captivating light emerged, accompanied by a dark, hooded figure in the opposite corner. It gazed at me, its shoulder blades sprouting dark wings. I smirked as I pressed forward but spared one last glance at my sister.

"Goodbye, Aaron," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. Goodbye to you as well, Cecily Taylor. Some things always stay the same.

A faint gleam bathed us, followed by an intense light, and radiant wings encircled my form. The winged entity grasped my soul with its powerful, angelic arms, and we vanished into the darkness.

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LUCIFER

"Lucifer," Abaddon sneered in my direction, his whip cracking against a young soul's cold, dark outline. She grinned with devilish dimples, her eyes lighting up.

"The boy passed away," he remarked, his hand tracing the girl's chest covered by a leather bralette. His touch roamed her body, his lips brushing her neck, fangs grazing her jawline like a chew toy. It was a shame I couldn't join in.

"Did Azrael bring me the boy's soul?" I growled, baring my sharp canines lining my gums. I adjusted my fingers through my dark fur coat, enveloping my warm form.

"No, sir. I believe he has not," he responded, dusting off scales from his reddish-ashy skin as he toyed with the girl's ethereal form in his robust arms.

"Great, that means I still have time." I wiped my hands on my attire and fetched a liquor bottle from the blood-streaked shelf before me.

"No chance my father will have me live in a place like Earth with humans," I mused, running my fingers through my fur tunic and tracing the tips of my horns.

Abaddon huffed, discarding the lifeless soul at the foot of my king-size mattress. She slumped against the dark maroon velvet sheets.

Azrael appeared at the doorway, his wings grazing the frame as he rested his hands on his chest. I bit my lip and groaned softly.

"Hello," I snarled, pulling myself away from the dresser's edge. "Seems someone has deceived me."

I glared at Abaddon. His grip tightened around the soul's wrist, causing it to crumble into ash. Azrael stared at the sluggish soul on the bed, a smug grin on his lips.

"Another one, Abaddon?" he groaned. Abaddon's eyes darkened like coal. His jaw clenched, muscles twitching as he focused on the girl's silhouette on the bed.

"You just create more work for me," Azrael grumbled, leaning over the girl's shadow.

"Is the boy here?" I inquired again, bringing the aromatic alcohol to my lips, the taste flowing over my tongue.

Azrael slumped against the mattress, holding the soul's head between his fingertips. Light emanated from his eyes as his hands intertwined with the soul. I covered my face as the light intensified. Suddenly, a sea of colors and lights engulfed my vision before darkness took over.

✽✽✽

"Lucifer," Azrael's voice called, a kick to my shins rousing me as my eyes slowly opened. Leather straps bound my wrists to a metallic chair I typically employed for torture.

"Azrael," I snarled, my tongue darting to lick my bottom lip. He grimaced, and my muscles tensed as his hands clenched the chair's edges.

"I've got a surprise for you," he stated, fiddling with the leather restraints around my wrists. I inwardly hoped I wouldn't kick him back as the light enveloped us both. Azrael vanished, leaving me confined in a dim room, strapped to the chair.

Moments later, Azrael reappeared, clasping a young man's soul against himself as the light returned, temporarily blinding me. I shielded my eyes for a moment.

The boy appeared sad and lifeless, as if he hadn't seen daylight in ages. His face bore a pasty, almost corpse-like hue. A grin stretched across my lips as I tested my leather bonds.

"Is this the guy I'm trading lives with?" I asked, my grin growing menacing as I laughed. "You must be joking."

Azrael pushed the boy forward and steadied himself on my metal seat. I lunged, but my strapped hands limited my reach.

"You must be Aaron," I purred. The boy grimaced, pulling himself up from the chair and adjusting his dark leather attire.

"You'll get used to it," I sneered, glaring at Azrael.

My black irises locked onto the boy's vacant brown eyes as I tugged at his leather restraints, tied to a metal chair in a room drenched in shadows and bloodstains. Azrael fluffed his wings, his deep blue eyes fixing on me. He grabbed my dark leather suit.

"It's time to go, Lucifer," he snarled. I grumbled under my breath. Enormous black wings emerged from my back, accompanied by a pang of pain. Shadows deepened around me and throughout the dim room.

Aaron watched as I crumpled. Seven familiar faces grinned at me as I struggled to rise. The light faded from view, replaced by their wings.

Michael's brown eyes focused, his fingers raking through his black hair. He leaned down, tapping my chest, and sighed.

"Remember, Aaron," he whispered, "if you need us, we'll be there as well."

Groaning, I tried to move, to think, but it felt nearly impossible. My body grew limp; my once black heart turned to nothing. A novice had ousted and supplanted the underworld king.