Lovino Vargas grew up as a catholic and adored the religion, being really close to the church since that was what his Grandpa wanted from him. However, each day as he grew and Grandfather fading, his respect for the entirety completely vanished. Vatican City was already built in Italy, even though it was an independent country all on it's own and his brother was all the way up in the North to even help him handle it. The only choice he had was to be the priest and to hold sermons for the people in the morning with a fake smile crossing his lips in the pure white robes. And at night, he'd hold secret sessions in that saintly building of the Vatican. Secret sessions of worshiping the devil.

Not only was he the famous priest that people knew him to be, he was also the president of the Satanists worshiping group in , or Rome as they might say. It was an identity that only the Satanists in his group pledged to keep hushed. He already knew he was going to hell, so worshiping the ruler of Hell may give him what he wants in this life, and perhaps get rid of his fratello and allow him to be /all/ of Italy. Every night, they'd gathered at the square of the Vatican and kneel down in a circle with Romano at the center standing while angels were above their heads that Michelangelo has painted with help of Feliciano. How ironic. Chanting some prayers for Satan in unison, the Italian had a small smile that was across his lips. He felt calm every time he has done these and felt constrained when doing the prayers for the Lord. He loved Satan. He wondered what the great ol' Satan looks like, and if he'd ever be able to communicate with him. That would be a dream come true to the Italian secret Satanist.

As Satan sat in his fiery lair, he received Romano's prayers and smiled. He would make sure everything went badly for everyone today, as he did everyday. Biting his lip, the for-whatever-reason Spanish Satan looked up at the Earth and started to think. This Romano, he seemed very loyal, going to extreme lengths to worship him. Hell, now and again he'd even said he wanted to meet up some day. ((No pun intended)) Perhaps that /would/ be nice. Rubbing his chin, he started to think.

Getting to the over world would be easy, all he had to do was disguise, yes, then he'd follow Romano, and eventually reveal himself. That was perfect. He thought on a disguise and crawled up, laughing as he went. It was rare that the devil went to Earth, and when he did, he almost always regretted it. Eventually, he ended up in Southern Italy, smirking and walking around, eyeing everyone with pleasure. Suddenly, he decided to try something he'd never even considered doing. He started using his satanic powers to use telepathy to say to Romano: "I'm coming Lovino...your wish is granted." hopefully, it would work. If it did, then Lovino's location would be instantly known to the Spaniard.

Lovino was in the middle of his prayers, before suddenly feeling a tug at his kokoro (heart). He fell to his knees, heavy breathing some at the sudden strange feeling that came over him. It was a feeling he never felt before. A burning hot sensation that started at his toes and crept its way to his neck, becoming stronger at each 5 inches of his frame. "T-the fuck..." he murmured, clutching onto his heart at this unknown feeling. The satanists immediately rose their hands in the air, beginning to chant; "Satan is here, Satan is here, Satan is here~. The overlord is here! Our savior is here!" they sang in harmony and unison as if it was obvious. They moved from side to side with Romano in the center of their little circle, awaiting the devil, or diablo to come

'I'm coming Lovino...your wish is granted'

Amber hues widened from the sudden sound that rung in his ears, knowing that it didn't come from any of his followers. The accent was Spanish and had a exotic quality to it that he just couldn't put his finger on. He stared forward before looking to the side, shooting up to a standing position and broke away from the circle, running around the Vatican building in search of him, while the black robes flew behind him. 'Where the fuck are you, Satan..?!' he cussed in his mind, though didn't mean it in any offense. He was just so anxious to meet his hero that the word slipped out. This all felt so surreal and he felt like he was in a dream – a good dream. His quickening heart beat matched the same words in his mind that he kept repeating; 'where the fuck are you, Satan..?!'


A/N: Well, this is the first chapter of Until the Devil himself takes me away. Reviews would be wonderful for improvement and will help for faster updates. :3 Thank you for taking the time to read this~!