Chapter 32, King of Time.

"So, you are the demon Mephistopheles, then?" she questioned, studying the man she thought she had known for almost a half a year, watching the black tail twist and coil like a snake.

He chuckled as he slipped the satin robe over himself, tying it loosely. "In a sense, yes, I am. But only because that's the name humans gave me many years ago."

She sat up, pulling the blankets up over her being, shielding her from his vision. "So that's not your real name?"

"I'm afraid not," he spoke smoothly as he approached the side of the bed, holding an open palm out for her. "Please, allow me to show you who I am."

She inspected his hand for the first time. She had known this man for so long, and yet, had never seen his bare hand before. It was slender, and his fingers long, only to be accentuated by the lengthy nails which sprouted from them. How had she never questioned it? Had she really been so engrossed in him for so long, that she never thought it was strange he wouldn't remove his gloves? It was possible, as tolerant as she was, that she had just accepted how quirky he made himself out to be. But how had she not noticed the nails earlier? Had there been so much on her mind when she had returned to the dorm, that she couldn't bring herself to notice the oddities of the situation? How had he gotten in her dorm? She had quickly assumed, being the director, he had a key—but now she wasn't positive. What about when she found the letters in her room-had he slipped them through the door, or had he entered some other way? Images of the demon before her tapping his nails on the wine glass flashed into her mind. Why didn't she find it odd before?

"Do you trust me?" came the familiar voice. Her gaze skimmed up from the strange, open palm, up to the face she had grown accustomed too. Something tugged at her heart as she laid eyes on him, taking in the sharp, angled features of his face. She had been completely smitten with a stranger, and nothing else made her feel so foolish.

He took a step closer to her as he brought over his other, naked hand, and his face relaxed as he attempted to comfort the girl he had grown rather attached to over time. "It's still me," he cooed quietly; "You know that in your heart." It was then that he realized the familiarity in her demeanor; he had seen it before. He had seen the shaky, detached look in her eye as her whole soul pulled away from him. And at last, he came to a deeper understanding of what had actually happened. Why she had avoided him completely for weeks. Why he had almost lost her. On top of his younger brothers' nearly destroying the forest she was in, threatening her feeble life, his alias was exposed, and it seemed she no longer trusted him. His mind began to race frantically. How had he brought her back? Surely she hadn't yet known that he was a demon, she was too awestruck at the moment; could he bring her back after this? In the moment, as he felt her slip through his grasp, his heart racing, he was no longer merely consumed with winning, with making her his—he needed her to trust him, to want him. And he needed her to want him as who he was.

A lump found its way to his throat when he reached out his arms, and she jolted backwards. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've never let anything happen to you."

"W-what do you mean?" she stuttered, her eyes shifting quickly from his outstretched arms as he slowly drew near, and back to his face.

"I've never meant to lie to you. Allow me to explain—allow me to show you."

Her stomach twisted in knots as she stared him in the eyes. There was suddenly something different in them, something so tender and aching. Slowly, she released the linen barrier that she had held up above her chin, and hesitantly brought out an arm. She had made the mistake with Rin, not giving him a chance to explain himself—but Rin had never deceived her so. Perhaps she needed to give this demon the chance to do the same, so she may understand. It wasn't set in stone; she would just allow him to explain himself. She didn't have to decide to trust him yet.

As her fingers twitched into his, he encased them in his hands and pulled her from the bed, where he tried to bring her close into an embrace—only to be met with a jolt and a hard look. He watched her fold her arms around herself, to shield her body from his gaze. Sighing, he snapped his fingers, releasing a puff of smoke around them. As it cleared, the two of them were dressed completely; she in a uniform, and he in his usual clothing, topped with his hat.

"Eins, zwei, drei—" a familiar jingle which jogged the girls' memory of the night after drinking, so many months ago. Another puff of smoke, and when it cleared, the two of them were hovering in the night sky above a hospital. She shrieked, looking down at the ground so far below them, only for a familiar arm to wrap around her and pull her in close. "Many years ago," Mephisto began, speaking lowly over her shoulder. "A mother struggled for her life in this very hospital."

Glancing to the side at him, she followed his line of sight to one of the hospital windows.

"There was something about this woman, and the life within her, which interested me. Maybe it was the mother's will to live, maybe it was the child itself. But I remember hearing the wails of this woman carry through the air so far from where she lay. Naturally I, as well as many other demons, were drawn to the scene of her suffering."

The girl watched below as dark masses boiled up from the ground, and came from the bushes, encircling the small, dilapidated hospital. There were dozens of these shadowy creatures, and they slowly became more dense as they settled into Assiah, revealing their true forms. They were demons—all different sizes, forms, types. It was then that she saw the figure of someone familiar walk up to the building. A man, dressed in a long white coat, and dark hair which framed his angular face. The hair on the back of her neck began to raise, and her eyes shot wildly from the man on the ground, to the man behind her, comparing their looks.

"T-that's you?! But you're—"

"Yes. That is me, but from many years ago," he answered calmly, and although the confusion on her face was evident at first, it was sufficient enough to begin adding pieces to the puzzle of her mind. She returned her gaze to the scene below.

The screams of a woman echoed through the night. First, they were strong and powerful as she belted them out, fighting with every once of her being; but after long enough, they began to waver with exhaustion. The nurses could be seen within the small window darting around the room. The woman clung to mere threads of life, but as she began to fade, a black smoke portal opened in the courtyard, where a slender figure adorned in a long, black hood stepped through into Assiah. A long, curved blade rested upon its shoulder. She watched intently as the figure approached the building, sliding across the cobblestone like a ship on dead water, only for the other Mephisto to step in front of it.

"Death came," his voice cracked as he watched the scene before him; the mirror version of himself raising his hands expressively as he spoke to the dark figure. "But I was so fixated on the life within this human, I was able to talk Death into a wager, where he spared the life of the mother and the child. In turn for saving their deaths for later, another soul was needed—"

The hooded figure passed into the building, and the girl could see a man in the window of the hospital room, clinging to the woman's hand as he was folded over in tears. His hair was the same color as the girls, and her heart stopped. The man looked up at the hooded figure in front of him as if he could see it himself, and it extended a slim arm out, touching the man on the forehead; and then he collapsed to the floor. Nurses from other rooms began bolting everywhere, and many flooded within the hospital room, where they placed the man's body on a bed and hastily attempted to revive him for minutes, all while the mother screamed and cried in pain and torture. After what seemed like an eternity, they wheeled him from the room out of the sight of the woman, and one nurse covered him with a white sheet in the hall. The rest of the nurses anxiously prepped the woman, all yelling and barking orders to each other as the woman squealed louder and louder. And finally, she stopped, and the quiet cry of a baby sounded through the atmosphere.

"She was different. Special. Every demon knew it. We were all drawn to it," Mephisto whispered, his green eyes still locked onto the hospital window. He slowly brought up the other hand, which was not wrapped around the girls' waist, and snapped his fingers. The scene below changed, and they found themselves outside of her childhood home, floating just outside her bedroom window. "In between my duties with the Order and my personal interest in my younger brothers, I watched her grow."

The child played in the barren second-story bedroom with her toy tea set. There weren't many toys within the room, but the walls were covered in paper which she had drawn on. She couldn't have been older than five years of age, and she sat on her knees, pouring make-believe tea into two mismatched cups. She set the second cup out in front of her, and just sat, waiting. The girl heard a quiet titter from the demon beside her as he watched the scene as well, a minuscule smile on his lips. The child looked out the window, seemingly right at them.

"Can she see us?" the girl asked.

"No, she cannot. But you can finally see," he spoke quietly.

Hearing the crack of the window opening, the girl turned back to the house, only to see the image of Mephisto sitting on the open window sill. The child watched carefully, unaware of exactly what was going on, and then finally picked up the other cup that she had set out. Crawling up on top of her bed, she went to the window, holding out the empty cup to the demon that had entered. The child looked around the room, unable to see the man who had cocked his head. When he took the cup within his hands, the child squealed and smiled, pouncing down from the bed and grabbing her own cup, which she pretended to drink from.

The girl blushed heavily, remembering days like the one before her. She faintly remembered the imaginary friend she had growing up. Was it him all along?

Mephisto hopped down from the window sill and entered the bedroom, where he sat down on the floor across from the little girl. When he placed the cup down on the ground, the child once again tipped the plastic tea pot as if to pour the tea. He snapped his fingers, and the child beamed excitedly as real tea spewed from the spout, filling the little cup and spilling over onto the carpet. She poured herself some and giggled while she talked and babbled in words that barely made sense while she sipped. The image of Mephisto placed his elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his hand while he sat quietly, watching the child with a smile as she started showing him some of her drawings-mere scribbles on paper.

It was then that the bedroom door swung open, and the girl saw the mother—her mother—in the door way, face red. She stormed in once she saw the wet stains on the ground, and began chastising the girl for sneaking real tea from the kitchen. The child cried that it was her friend, and her mother smacked her across the face, telling her to stop lying.

The demon beside her let out a sigh. "I had to stop interacting with her directly for these reasons. But I was never far." He snapped his fingers once more, and the scene changed.

She was on the playground at recess, she couldn't have been older than nine. She was playing in the sand box quietly, building a castle with a scowl on her face as she fortified the walls around her tower, certain no one would get in. The figure of Mephisto watched from a distance, observing quietly from a rooftop. A group of boys ran by, and one stopped in front of her, his hands on his hips. She could now see that she boy had horns, but the nine year old version of her just saw an unruly bully with pointy ears. The boy began trampling on her construction as he teased her, making her burst out in tears. As she ran away, the boy cackled loudly, proud of his accomplishment of causing the girl some form of agony. There was a puff of misty smoke, and the image of Mephisto appeared right before the boy, who stopped laughing as soon as he realized who it was; Mephisto flicked the boys nose, sending him toppling over with a bloody face.

"I felt compelled to protect the life that I had assured would enter this world," came the demon as he snapped his fingers again.

She covered her mouth quickly, remembering the scene before her vividly. She was young, about thirteen, when it happened. The girl was walking home from school, and had decided to take a shortcut through the city by taking the back alleys, instead of skirting around the whole town in order to get to the far side where she lived. As she walked through the dark, grey alley ways, she would stop every now and then, looking around her, listening quietly. The alleys of her hometown were a labyrinth of stone, and sometimes you would hear noises or footsteps echoing through them, and you were never sure if it was someone close or far. Not too far behind the girl, was the image of Mephisto, casually tracking her as she trudged on. As the young girl went deeper and deeper, she could see someone else was following.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and the demon held her tighter.

The young girl walked around a corner, only to be ambushed by a large man in a denim blue mechanic's suit. He grabbed her and pulled her down the alley, and despite her efforts she couldn't free herself from his grasp. As she studied the scene, she noticed that the man looked differently—he had long, pointed ears, and one swirled horn on one side of his head, while what would have been the matching horn, was broken off on the other side. He laughed as he drug his slimy tongue up her cheek and ripped at her clothing, her yelps for help being lost within the sea of cobblestone. And then, he tossed her behind a dumpster with enough force to have knocked her out, where she had dislocated her shoulder when she hit the wall. Her body tensed as she watched the creature begin unbuttoning its trousers, a tail slipping out and waving into the air.

And although she didn't understand it then, she could see what happened now; Mephisto came up behind the creature as it bent down, and pulled it backwards by the horn, where he dug the entirety of his hand into the chest of the creature. When he released it, the creature slumped to the ground, its ears shrinking back down to normal, and the horns and tail drifting off into the surroundings. The death of the perpetrator was ruled as a sudden heart attack.

He snapped his fingers again, changing scenes once more. "I watched her grow into a beautiful, strong young woman. And other demons saw this, and wanted her for themselves."

Scenes flashed before her of all the boys she had dated through high school, but now they didn't appear the same as they once did. All the friends, the boyfriends, who had pointed ears or sharp teeth, the ones she was told were birth defects, the ones she just never questioned, all had exaggerated ears, sharp fangs, horns, and sometimes tails.

"Are you trying to tell me that all my exes were demons?" she yelped.

He shook his head. "Not all of them, but most—drawn to you, they took it upon themselves to try to woo you so they could ultimately keep you."

Scenes of her previous boyfriends attempting to pressure her, or being just awful, flashed before her. Liars, manipulators, cheaters – they were all demons. And each one, Mephisto had threatened personally, and they would never even touch her afterwards.

She paused, and turned to the demon beside her, pulling herself away from his tight embrace. "What about you?" she questioned methodically, inspecting his expression.

He snapped his fingers once more, and they appeared in the living area of his mansion. "It was never my intention to deceive you, but yes, I was drawn to you for reasons I cannot myself explain." He waited to see if she had anything to say while he sat down on one of the extravagant sofas. She stayed silent, only watching him with skeptical eyes as she herself sat down on a completely different couch across from him. "I might not know much about human emotions, but I grew to care about you, little flower," he said with a half smile.