Disclaimer: Helluva Boss is creation of Vivziepop.

Disclaimer II: I know, I know that Imps are Hellborns by nature and therefore were never human, but please go along :p

The Demon's Seasons

Created by Shade Shaw Reilly

Illustrated by Kraukire

According to beliefs and folklore, in Hell there were all kinds of beings of darkness, starting with Lucifer and his court, with the sole mission of corrupting Humanity and dragging them into the abyss. Among the creatures of the Underworld that had humans as their prey, either by seducing them in their dreams as the succubae or directly appearing to them as the great princes and dukes of the Infernal court, were the creatures called imps.

These curious beings, slightly larger than the fairies of European fairy tales, unlike the great demons, felt alongside evilness, curiosity of humans and sought to be close to them and ultimately drag them into the damnation, usually with pranks and tricks that, even if they were funny, the vast majority of humans were scared and tried to scare them away... And at that time on Earth, full of people crazy about religion and obsessed to destroy for witches and monsters everywhere, even more so.

…But there are some who still do it, against their instincts and convictions.

…

A small imp, with eyes like embers and hair as white as snow, wandered the Earth in search of some human with whom to play tricks and more than anything to get closer, without much success. Almost everyone fled from him or scared him away with stones or anything within reach of him, so he spent it alone between the forest and the caves. The echo of a bird made him lift his head, observing for a few minutes the rays of the late and pale dawn shining between the highest branches of the trees with small green shoots of spring, enveloping the whole area in a kind of radiance. It was so different from the ever-red plains and sky of Hell.

As he approached a stream to drink, he saw a young human rinsing some linens in the water. She was different from most of the humans he had seen in that nearby village, for her skin was dark like chocolate and her clothes were simpler, if not dirtier than those of the others. Curious, the imp tried to get closer to her, but slipped and fell.

…

...She had offered to rinse the linen in the well to breathe a little outside that house. Every day it was the same: If it wasn't Mrs. Martha treating her with contempt and looking at her with disgust, it was Mr. Ralph looking for any mistakes she made, a speck of dust that she didn't clean, a corner that she didn't scrub, for him to grab her wrist, although that didn't cause her as much dread as his gaze on her… Or the children who looked for all kinds of excuses to blame her for whatever damage they had done.

She sighed, digging her fingers into the water with the fabric, staring at the dark reflection of her. "Everything was easier with Mama and Daddy, may God have them in his glory." she thought sadly, refusing to let the preaching about the absence of soul in people like her take over her mind, no, she was sure that her parents were in Heaven, after a long life of bending their backs as servants, now turned into angels and watching over her and her remaining brothers, and she would join them, she prayed fervently for it.

...She was so lost in the thoughts of her that a splash of water surprised her, as well as some frantic movements in the mud… And a harsh and shrill voice calling for help. She must have run; she must have run when she caught a glimpse of what that was in the muddy water ... But for some reason she helped him anyway, grabbing him by the head to drag him to shore, or rather, holding something hard and pointed that she realized, between terrified and fascinated, they were horns like a goat.

Seeing him snort hunched over, she was able to see him well. Horns striped and blurred in hair even whiter than the skin of her masters. Eyes like lanterns shining in the gloom like embers. Skin like blood made flesh. Goat legs and a pointed tail, flapping in the air. ...The whole appearance made her scream in her head 'Monster!' ...He adjusted himself some elegant-looking, yet wet clothes and gave her a wide smile full of sharp butcher teeth, thanking her with a bow.

"I am grateful for your kindness, and it will never be forgotten."

The girl could only say "...It was nothing", even more surprised by the respectful gesture of the creature towards her, a poor maid who had not received a kind gesture for a long time ... For some reason she wanted to ask him who he was or what his name was, when noises behind them, footsteps of someone approaching, alerted the creature, which hurried to flee between the rocks that surrounded them... And from there, it could be seen how a white woman with blond hair approached the young girl with dark skin, grabbing her arm and yelling at her on the still unclear linen, dragging her back to the village...

The demon grimaced at the cruel treatment, much like the superior demons' treatment of imps like him.

…

The second time she saw him was a few days later. Even believing that the above had been an illusion or a trick of her mind as she was so tired of so many chores around the house. Until Mrs. Martha, yelling and shaking her, handed her a giant laundry basket, telling her that she must wash everything in less than an hour or there would be a severe punishment. She felt overwhelmed, angrily scrubbing Mr. and Mrs.'s overalls and shirts, holding back the urge to scream. How could she clean all this up in an hour, full of stains and such? In addition, a dog had knocked over the basket with the clothes already cleaned, getting muddy. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the first stabs of tears trickle down her long lashes.

" ...You seem to need help, miss."

She opened her eyes, terrified. It was him, the creature from before! She hadn't been dreaming! She opened her mouth, but didn't know what to say... The creature got off the rock where he was and approached her. Up close he was even more curious, not to say terrifying, with facial features that gave him a reptilian air, but at the same time with a constellation of white freckles on his cheeks. The creature gently took one of the muddy shirts from her hands and smiled softly at the overwhelmed expression on the young human.

"It's faster if we do it together." He told her softly.

She couldn't say no, even though her instincts and convictions were screaming at her inside to run, to get away from him and get help… "Millie, don't you realize that's not a human being? He is not a possum as you thought at first… He is a monster far from the light of God, he is a demon, he is… "

"Who are ye?" That was all she could ask.

The creature, diligently scrubbing a Mrs. Martha's bodice, arched an eyebrow, but then smiled mischievously. "I'll tell you if you honor me with yours."

"Ah'm…" she murmured in a strange blush. Blush?! How was she going to blush for a demon?! Was he deceiving her with some evil trick…? Against her better judgment, she said: "Mildred... But they call me Millie."

"How pretty it sounds, very similar to mine..." the demon replied with a smile, not only in his maw, but also in his eyes. "…Yes, very similar to 'Moxxie'."

…

She ran down the winding dirt path outside the village, feeling her skirts rise from the run and her boots sink into the mud. She was not running away, my reader, but she was in a hurry; They only gave her a few hours of rest before going back to work, taking advantage of the fact that the whole family went to church for the congregation, a place to which she wasn't welcome because of her skin color... But there was a place where she does.

"Millie, you've come." Moxxie greeted her with a smile as he watched her snort in front of the huge gnarled chestnut tree where he had been. "Is this the tree you told me about? It looks very old, and those knots look like warts."

"Yeah, Mama called it the warty uncle because of the many toads that lived and relieved themselves there." Millie replied with an exhausted smile, which turned into a laugh when she saw Moxxie jump off the branch where he was perched with a grimace of disgust.

In some way that she could not explain, and contrary to any conviction and dogma that had been instilled (by a hits of a leash) by Mrs. Martha from her earliest childhood, the human girl took advantage of any free moment to visit her strange new friend... Or rather, her only friend. She had asked them to meet in the warty chestnut tree, a place quite far from the village and also a place of memories of their childhood when their parents were alive, where they met with their brothers to play, read stories or sing, or just rest all together as a family. Every time she told one of these anecdotes, a flash of nostalgia in her eyes accompanied Millie's soft smile, something that Moxxie watched intently, fascinated.

...And she felt uneasy and at the same time pleased to see that someone was listening to her with such interest.

Why did she keep seeing herself with that creature? Wasn't she aware of what he was, a being of darkness, of deception, of lies...? ...Something that, curiously, she sometimes heard from Mrs. Martha's children, and even from some of those in her village since she was a child, towards the people the color of her skin... Perhaps it was due to the fact that that this creature, no, Moxxie, didn't look at her with the repulsion of the other white villagers, and encouraged her to tell him more about her, about her family, about those thousands of stories that her mother told her so many times that many of them she knew them from memory for not knowing how to write very well… He could be deceiving her, cajoling her to get something out of it… But at the same time it felt so good to have someone to talk to.

…

And so the summer continued to pass, the sun gently warming the fields. They kept seeing each other, getting to know each other more and more, in that hidden clearing in the forest where Moxxie drew from the stories and tales Millie told her to transform them into songs, playing the lute for her while she accompanied him in the choirs as best she could. Having fun with his (attempted) jokes and tricks, impressing her with knowledge that she could barely understand but listened to him anyway, while she placed him wreaths of flowers and herbs that she wove herself and showed him with a big smile, but still despite the embarrassment, the demon never took them off while he was with her.

Soon those meetings turned nocturnal, with Moxxie sneaking into her humble cabin, since Millie had lived alone since the death of her parents, from dusk until the first chimes of midnight. It was there that he was able to see her in a more intimate setting, talking, cooking with her, playing various pieces on the lute until she fell asleep... And learning about her horrible life in her master's house:

One day she had dropped a couple of eggs while making dinner, it was just an accident; And the punishment she had received from Mr. Ralph was disproportionate to what he used to do to her: Brutally grabbing her arm, he had struck her with the cane so viciously that he had made her bleed, then he told her to go home, without pay or leftovers... The young girl was looking for some clean cloth to clean and bandage the wound, until a few taps on her window alerted her, letting Moxxie see, thanks to his night vision, the affliction of her eyes, long before the smell of blood will reach his nostrils.

"Who did this to you?"

"Ah'm… It was an accident."

"Don't lie, humans are very obvious when they lie." He retorted harshly, causing her to try to withdraw her injured hand from his fierce grip on his claws, making a noise of anguish and pain. The demon's expression softened "…Fear not. I wouldn't eat you, even if I wanted to… " And he added in a low voice, as if to himself: "…Is not like I came from Cannibal Colonny."

He slid a piece of his own black coat, which had a softness she had never felt before in any kind of fabric she had touched or washed, along the deep cut meticulously and carefully. Millie just stared at him silently, with many conflicting feelings in her head. "Mox..."

"I have seen how these people treat you. And it's not fair." He lifted his head to look at her. An evil glow was seen in those yellow eyes. "I would take revenge if I were you."

"No, we must honor our masters, even if they are hard on us, we must..."

"Yes, yes, say no more. 'Turn the other cheek' and all that." The imp replied dryly. Then a sad smile slid across his maw. "...But I don't like to see you sad or hurt... It bothers me, I..." She covered his claw with her uninjured hand, disturbing him.

"Thank ya, thank ya, Moxxie, for listenin' to me, for being here. It makes me so happy."

Thanks to Satan, the dim light from the oil lamp hid the imp's blush

…

The yellow and reddish leaves were swirling and carried away in gusts of the icy wind that he didn't feel, as he slid his long sharp nails along the strings of the instrument when composing (or trying to compose) one last song...

…He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Hidden in the grotto, in his head the hours and minutes that separated them from the encounter in the chestnut tree or in the hut were counted. He didn't care how much he had to move, how stealthy he had to be crossing the rooftops… If that meant seeing the sweet human girl with the chocolate skin and caramel eyes, he would.

…No one had been like this with him in the couple of centuries that he had lived and for as long as he could remember.

Yes, he had colleagues of the same race that he spoke to, but none were truly his friend. Being smaller and weaker than average imp, he had always been the subject of teasing and humiliation. Instead, Millie didn't see him with fear, (or rather she had stopped being afraid of him), she had seen through his appearance and demonic nature and saw his inside... With Millie he felt that he could be himself; It was an immeasurable pleasure to enjoy her company, to chat with her, laugh with her and even sing the songs that had come out of the stories that she said that her mother and grandmother told her... Always feeling a sensation of heaviness in his chest when seeing her go from the clearing in the woods or when he left her cabin after the midnight bells, as much as he wanted to stay… Silently desiring that she would ask him to stay and keep her company that night.

…Oh crumbs.

He took a deep breath as he interrupted the chords of the lute, feeling his heart pounding… Because you may be surprised my reader, but unlike other beings of darkness, the Hellborns had hearts: You just had to look at their king, Lucifer, for example.

…Or even another more recent example: his friend Blitzo.

In the Underworld, the story of the taller imp with a curious human, Stolas, was really commented. This was not only an aristocrat, but also a lover of the dark arts and necromancy. Unfortunately, (initially, of course) for Blitzo, the rich necromancer had managed to chain him up as his 'familiar', a companion of the 'master' ...who had been looking at the body and the cock of the imp with a practically inhuman lust. Certainly Blitzo complained, kicked, did everything to free himself, destroyed parts of his palace dozens of times, but the promise of a comfortable life outside the difficult world that the imp had to live, as well as the way that Stolas touched him, inside the bed as outside of it, the fun times together, got more in him... And eventually, in the arms of his human lover, he gave up.

When Moxxie found out about that story, he was livid. He knew Blitzo was a fucking opportunist, but tangle with a human! How ridiculous! Would they live even a fraction of what they would?! ...Although when he found out that Stolas, blind with love and pressure from Blitzo, had become a powerful demon thanks to a ritual, he supposed that no longer mattered, but the expression had remained in the depths of his mind...

'Familiar...' ...How curious and strange it sounded.

…

He saw her crying from the other side of the window. And his heart burst on fire.

As he listened attentively, once more bandaging the cane wounds on her wrists from breaking a plate from tripping, Moxxie blurted out, "I can't see you like this. This cannot go on like this.

"Moxxie..."

"No, don't ask me to hold back. If you are not going to take revenge on your executioners, I will."

"...Why do ya care so much?" She asked him in a small voice. Moxxie stared at her. Millie looked down. "D-don't get me wrong: Ah hate 'em, Ah hate what they do ta me, but… what can we do? Ah don't want ya to do something against 'em, they'll blame me for it, or they'll discover ya and kill ya... an-and Ah don't want to lose mah friend, the only friend Ah've had in a long time..."

Moxxie was silent for a moment, finishing bandaging her wounds with another piece of his coat, placing his sharp claws on her warm palms.

"…And I don't want to lose my only friend in a long time." The demon replied in a low voice. Then he felt a warm weight on him: She was holding him. He froze for a moment, his heart was like a hummingbird, his heavy breathing… By Satan, if he always found Millie's smell delicious, the softness of her dark skin was even more so; He wrapped her neck the best he could with his smaller arms, wishing to Hell that there would never be dawn so he wouldn't have to leave… It was all like a beautiful and terrifying epiphany that hit him like a rain of bricks.

…He was in love, for the Seven Hells and whatever is below, he was in love. And of a human.

Blitzo would be laughing his ass off if he could saw them.

A murmur, as well as a sweet caress to his striped horns, made him lift his head. Millie was smiling, thanking him… He clenched his jaws. As much as he wanted her, it was difficult, if not impossible. Could he dare to do the same as Blitzo? Moxxie wasn't such a powerful demon that he could give a damn about everything and just grab her and take her away with him... He didn't even have wings, to begin with, he was just a poor and weak imp. Besides, he wasn't so heartless: Drag that sweet soul, that sweet angel to the bottom of the abyss... No, he couldn't force her, he couldn't do that cruelty to her, even though everyone else was already cruel to her...He couldn't be with her like that, but he could still...

"I'll be with you always, Millie, whenever you need me. Like your... familiar."

Millie didn't say anything else, she just hugged him tighter... It was supposed that, by becoming a 'familiar', he was supposed to feed on the blood of her mistress to establish the connection, or give her to drink his blood. But Moxxie refused both. There was no need. They had been holding each other for a while longer (Minutes? Hours?) in silence. The only sound was of their breaths. It had come to a point where Millie had Moxxie on her lap like a doll of sorts, stroking his horns that were like ivory and his hair so silky, as she felt his long, sharp nails carefully run over her shoulders and arms above the dress... Feeling an intense blush and a tingling in the body. She should be terrified, looking for a pastor for an exorcism or something, for a demon was hugging her, but it… felt good. Deliciously good.

The oil lamp went out, plunging them into almost total darkness, only Moxxie's yellow eyes were visible in the gloom, without taking his eyes off her... She was no longer afraid of those eyes, that monstrous face or his evil origin, not when underneath of all that appearance there was the gentlest being she had ever known and who had treated her with such kindness and respect. Then a ball of fire danced between Moxxie's fingers, lighting her faces in the already dark night... She had seen that trick before, but it was always an incredible thing to watch. Moxxie smirked.

"What, what is it?"

"I couldn't tell you before, but it's the first time I've seen you without that cumbersome purity cap… And, if you'll let me say it… Oh, Millie, you look beautiful."

The human's blush was equivalent in intensity to the demon's, but she didn't say anything. Her heart was too happy to let her say anything.

…

Morning was already breaking in the little clearing and the imp was exultant, but also anxious and impatient.

Millie had told him to wait there, that she would gather her belongings and her memories of her family and they would go, go anywhere, far and away together. Oh, how many adventures would they have from now on! Despite all his doubts still gnawing at his head about dragging an innocent soul towards damnation (Though on second thought... Weren't they already? Oh Satan, it was all so confusing...), when the best thing would be to let her go... But where? At the hands of other humans who have only treated her badly, as an inferior being, as... as if she was an imp?

"In spite of everything, she and I are not that different from anyone can see first glance, that is clear to me. That is why I will follow her where she goes with devotion… If I cannot have her as my mate, I can be her familiar. "

…But the hours were passing, mid-morning, noon, early afternoon… And nothing. He began to worry and to feel deep down inside him that something was wrong. Unable to bear it anymore, he went back to the village, even at the risk that he might be seen by the villagers because it was still daylight.

...And seeing the smoke rising between the rooftops, he quickened his pace, feeling her heart heavier and heavier.

There was so much hubbub in the streets that the imp couldn't understand the origin or reason for it. Sliding down the roof of Millie's masters house, he looked through the window: Nothing. Where could she be? Anxiety was starting to take hold of him as he kept moving between the ceilings.

And to get to the square... It was that he saw everything. He saw her.

Her long black hair was gone and her head showed ragged locks, roughly cut. The log atrium where she was standing raised her above everyone else in the plaza. Her humble clothes had been replaced by a vulgar white sailcloth, remaining as the only visible point among the ocean of gray and black clothes that didn't stop shouting "Repent, repent, repent...!", with their faces twisted by hatred, looking like gargoyles ... In front of all of them and in the front line, Mrs. Martha, holding a burning torch with one hand and a bottle of oil with the other, with a smile so sadistic that it could compete with a depraved demon like Asmodeus, howled at the audience.

-"(…) …Virtue has surrendered to vice! This harpy has used her dark arts not only to do her quick work, but also to bewitch my husband!"

"N-no! He kept trying ta touch me, he…!"

Millie was silenced with a jet of oil on her face. "Hush, witch! Or are you going to use my husband to explain the other voices in your filthy shack at night?!"

"Ah... Ah'm..."

"Everyone has sworn to hear strange voices in your hut, and no one has confessed to visiting a dirty maid girl! It could only be the demon summoned by the low arts of your wicked race! CONFESS!"

…Millie didn't say anything. She just stared at her mistress. Tears mixing with the oil smeared down her cheeks, but she remained defiant… She wasn't going to confess, much less repent, because she knew that her confession didn't matter, she would die anyway, more in those times of people crazy about religion and obsessed with destroy witches and monsters everywhere, reaching the point of accusing each other... This is how one of her sisters, Sallie May, had died a couple of years ago, due to a gambling debt and the villagers took advantage of the fact that she wore women's clothes when she had born as a man to lynch her… That was the sad fate of humans in lands like this…. And she wouldn't regret it, nor would she deny the only true friend she had had in a long time. She would never regret or deny her dear Moxxie.

She raised her head to the heavens and prayed to God. She prayed that Moxxie wouldn't come, they would kill him with the same hatred as her. That he better continues to live with the good memories they created together, memories that, as her Mama had once said, never really died. She closed her eyes to remember them intensely, even if it were once more... She barely heard, amid the shouts and insults of the small crowd, the shrill scream of her mistress:

"See, the harpy has the nerve to look towards God, she thinks that he will have mercy on her! Well, we do the Lord's work, where we are going to send you is to Hell, where you belong!"

She threw the torch at her.

…And an infernal squawk was heard:

"NOOO, MILLIEEE!"

…

The people gasped in horror as they saw an aberration leap from the roof of the church and land in front of the atrium and next to the bonfire. It was red as blood, with horns and goats' legs and eyes like lanterns, which showed its sharp teeth, causing several to recoil, among them Mrs. Martha who took out a crucifix and screamed "Vade retro, Satan!" …Moxxie looked at her with contempt. Did they really believe that their instruments 'sacred' by other humans had any effectiveness against demons, even the low ranked ones? They weren't vampires, please! They better find a saint in that bunch of sinners to bless that piece of wood and then could try to do something, thanks.

His gaze turned to his dear friend, slipping mindlessly into the burning pyre from below, the fire sliding upward with horrible speed. The imp pulled desperately on the chains with which they had tied the girl's feet to the bottom of the stake, as well as her wrists, so that she wouldn't try to escape from it when the fire reached her. Moxxie felt nothing, Underworld creatures were immune to the fire of the Earth, if it was Hellfire it would be another story... And even if he could feel it, even if it was a tickle, it was nothing compared to the anxiety and pain destroying his heart at the see this dantesque show. They can't do this! Millie is an innocent woman, her only sin was to love her friend very much, even if it wasn't human...! So what if he was an imp?! The real demons were them!

"I have to get you out of here, you can't die, you have to live, Millie! You have to…!"

"Moxxie."

The aforementioned raised his head, the tears along with the smoke blurred well the face of his friend; She had coughed so much that her body was hunched over, leaving her face dirty with oil, soot and tears within reach of him. She smiled weakly, wincing as she began to feel the heat on her bare feet. She craned her neck a little and brushed her lips across the demon's red cheek.

"…Thanks... for being here. Ah prayed… so that… ya wouldn't come, so… that ya would... saved yerself… but thank ya for… being here…"

Claws rested on the girl's dirty face. A voice consumed by crying and grief, but equally harsh and totally inhuman to the ears of those pitiful onlookers, replied:

" ...I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, or be with anyone else."

And before that group of sinners, a wall of fire enveloped the strange and demonic image of that aberration of Hell, tightly hugging the burning body of the human girl. Her hair flared up and her skin began to melt, revealing tissues and then organs, until it melted into a heap of bones and blackened ashes amid a terrible smell of sulfur and human flesh. Some looked away or averted their children or wives, unable to see. Mrs. Martha's expression was livid with bewilderment... Because in no manual of witch hunters had anything like this been heard.

The incineration lasted a total of four hours, during which the demon never left the stake. Some brave men who finished watching the ordeal saw that he simply sank into the ashes.

…

Night fell and the surroundings of the small square were as silent as a cemetery... Apart from the distant noises of the villagers in their homes to gather their souls in prayer for 'having rid themselves of a witch and her familiar demon', and the crickets in the distance, were the quiet sounds of grief of the only being that mourned the death of a sweet soul that was cruelly executed by the same people that always despised her.

Hunched over and hidden among the burned wood, Moxxie never left the smoking pyre, claws plunging into scorched stick next to the huge pile of ash; He had never cried so much in his existence, nor when his parents were permanently eliminated in an Extermination that occurred a century ago... Oh, how he had wanted to die with her, but alas, demons were immune to fire! Maybe... maybe if he stayed there until dawn and the villagers saw him, they could lynch him or maybe a true sacred object to eliminate him, who did it matter, everything was over and his only friend, the being he had loved so much, has had been shattered into dust and ashes.

"God, if you allowed this, then have the fucking decency to accept her in Heaven! She was an angel living among true demons! If you don't want to listen to me for being an imp, then listen to her and give her the reward she deserves!"

He stood up from the pile of ashes, staring at the sky: It had left the dark cloak of midnight and now had a matte tone, the one that tells you that it is no longer night but it is not yet day. The flames of the bonfire will have been extinguished, but not the fire in his heart. That fire that that charming young human had kindled with her kindness to a being of darkness like him ... However ephemeral she may have been, he would carry her in his memory for all eternity, a memory so intense that he could even feel it...

...Wait, what could he feel it? What the fuck…?

He looked down and it was a miracle no one heard his shrill scream of terror, and if anyone did, no one dared to step out: A red hand was out of the grave of bones and ashes, clutching his left hoof.

"G-get out of there, you heathen!" Moxxie yelled, scared and flexing his claws. "C-come out before I cut your face!"

"…Mo… xxie?"

His eyes widened, then began to crystallize once more, but not from sorrow. Not anymore.

He leans over to help her out of the ash tomb, the figure of a ruby-red demoness emerging from the gray cocoon, her hair as gray as ash. Eyes equally yellow as embers and also glassy stare back at him. Her body exposed with the same proportions, wide hips and thighs, her eyelashes long and winged, the same tender little gap between her sharp teeth… It is so different and at the same time so familiar. Moxxie is speechless, he wants to ask who she is, how she appeared, but he can't say anything. He only manages to remove his coat full of tears and cover the nakedness of the female, always with a question in his eyes... And always smiling in the same way, the demoness placed a claw on the demon's cheek.

"Ah was innocent of witchcraft, but God punished me anyway. He punished me fer falling in love with mah familiar, mah best friend."

Moxxie couldn't answer that, for he soon felt the warm body throw itself on top of him, arms wrapping around the other's body in a desperate embrace, demonic maws melting together in a deep kiss, the first of many to come…

…

According to beliefs and the folklore, imps were malicious beings who sought out humans to play pranks and tricks on them, some harmless, and others evil... Evil enough to deceive a couple of children with sweets and other tricks, children of one of the most influential women in the village and the one who liked to participate in the angry mobs to lynch some unfortunate, so that they would fall off a small cliff where at the end there were a lot of thorny thistles and brambles. The crows fluttered with thunderous squawks, excited by the scent of blood... That was how they were found.

Little time had the poor and afflicted woman to mourn her children in peace, for her husband never returned home from chopping wood a couple of days later. When the locals found it, it was impossible to determine which animal was small enough to have claws and fangs like these and still cause a lot of damage until his face was almost unrecognizable.

In the end the woman secluded herself in her house, trying to hide from the rest of the village that she was hearing whispers, grunts and strange footsteps behind the walls in her house, paintings and other things moved from place, and, at night, while she tried to sleep, she saw two pairs of yellow eyes like embers glow in the dark, fixed on her irredeemable soul.

...When they went to look for her after several days of absolute confinement, she was found in her bed with her throat and belly sliced, as well as one of her eye socket empty.

…

For a long time, he believed that he had found a kind angel living among real monsters. And although he often blamed himself for having inadvertently dragged her into the abyss's condemnation, she always took his cheek and smiled warmly to reassure him: It couldn't have been otherwise, and she wouldn't change it for anything.

The demon smiled in turn, pressing his mate against him with passion and love, as they descended into the deep dark red of Hell to never return, at least not for n