Warning: This chapter has descriptions of child abuse.
Ivan is bored. He yanks out a tooth of one of his victims. They scream for him a few hundred curse words. Ivan closes his eyes and listens to their pain. The human punched out people's teeth when they fought in the streets. Ivan is going to tear out his. He hums lowly. He wants something more right now. He drops the pliers to the table. The tooth clatters against the metal. He stares down the resident with a bleeding mouth. They are kicking at the ground, trying to kill their pain. Ivan raises an eyebrow at them. He has torn out every tooth in their mouth at least once already. He twists his nose and has an idea.
He sweeps out of the room and heads to the elevator. He walks through Hell, seeing how many demons he spots on his way to the welcome rooms. Just a few. There's no one once he gets closer to the entrance of Hell. He waves to Matthew, who gives him a skeptical look from his desk. Ivan walks past and into the waiting area. He walks through the crowds of people staring at him. Just at the far end of the room, there's another door that only those who have gone through Hell can see. An emergency exit of sorts. He pushes it open and leaves it propped just an inch. No one will notice it he's sure. He walks back into Hell with a smile on his face. Gilbert is sitting on Matthew's desk now, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Ivan simply giggles. Gilbert rolls his eyes and waves him off. Ivan walks back to the torture rooms.
His victim is still there. They're trying to keep tears out of their eyes. Ivan glares at them. He takes the pliers and rips out another tooth. They scream again. Ivan giggles uncontrollably. He doesn't stop laughing even as he takes the chains in his hands and they slither up onto his arms. He places a hand over his mouth to force the noise to stop as he walks out, leaving the door open just a hint. Now all he has to do is wait and see if the human takes the bait. He flies his way up to the top of the torture room, resting his elbows at the edge to see the door. He waits for a few hours. A demon or two walk by but they don't notice him or the door. Ivan kicks his legs back and forth behind him. The door opens.
Ivan blends into the blackness around him. The human hobbles out another step. He looks back and forth down the endless hallway. Ivan tilts his head to the side. The human hides back in the room. Ivan yawns. Boring. He's close to jumping down when the human emerges once again, this time holding a crowbar. Ivan breaks out with a wide smile. This is now interesting. His tail wavers in the air like a cat as he watches the human turn the wrong way. They notice when the numbers get bigger, stepping back towards his own room. A demon's steps are heard. The human dodges back into the room. Ivan can hear their heart beating fast. The lower demon passes without noticing. The human takes a chance and stumbles the way the demon had come.
Ivan follows silently, flying from room to room above his escaping human. They get to the elevator. Ivan can see them hesitate. It'll still be interesting if they turn around now. Before the human can react the doors ding. He presses himself to the side of it, stepping off the edge of the path some to hide more of his body. A demon steps out, her nose buried in a file. The human lunges into the elevator before it closes. Ivan starts to laugh. The girl demon drops her things up on seeing him above her. He giggles more, rolling onto his back. He laughs until his sides hurt. He jumps down and steps into the elevator himself.
He hits the greeting room button. When he gets off he doesn't see the human anywhere. He can faintly feel him. He walks through the halls towards Matthew. He finds the demon looking through a file, a human in front of him. The girl gives Ivan a horrified look. He smiles sweetly at her. Gilbert zips in, landing gracefully next to him.
"Now what the fuck are you up to?" He asks, not bothering to hide the distrust in his voice. Ivan giggles again. He can feel the human's presence more now. After spending some time with them, he can pick up on their soul. They are behind him and Gilbert somewhere, just behind the door, waiting for their moment to run.
"I'm bored," Ivan says with a smile. Gilbert raises his eyebrows. The old King waves the girl on and slips from the room with her following behind. Matthew rolls his eyes to the bickering and another human comes through the door. They glance between the two of them with scared eyes. Matthew holds out his hand and they step forward.
"Welcome to Hell," Matthew says with a smile. The person gulps and takes the seat Matthew gestures to. He takes the folder and reads over their reasoning. He sighs.
"Well Mrs Geovette," He glances up to her. She's wringing her hands together. Ivan turns his head to not laugh. Gilbert returns to the room. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed and an unamused expression on his face.
"Seems you got a little needle happy on more than just yourself. You will be sent to 20 years in sexual displeasure and then 10 years in physical torture. After that you will spend 10 years in the ghost rooms," Matthew smiles at her and hands back the file. She glares at him for a second and almost protests but Gilbert has a hand on her shoulder and a sinister smirk on his face. Her words catch and Gilbert leads her out of the room. Ivan smiles down at Matthew.
"Ivan what are you doing?" He asks with a soft smile. Ivan flicks his tail again. He turns his back to the door and keeps Matthew's attention on him. Matthew lifts the file into the air and it flies it's own way over to the filing cabinets.
"I got bored with my residents so I came to visit. There's a different kind of fear here," he muses. It's true. Here in the welcome rooms, the people are afraid of the unknown. They don't know what is going to happen. Then they get to their torture rooms and become afraid of the known, what is going to happen. Matthew sighs and Ivan can feel his victim skirt around the edge of the room, pressed tight to the wall. The door opens and a new human comes in. There's a pause. Matthew waves Ivan out of his way. Ivan backs away and Gilbert sides up next to him once again. The human steps forward, glancing at the door, on his way towards Matthew. Ivan can't stop his smile.
"Welcome to Hell," Matthew says, the same way he said it before. The human takes a seat, still glancing at the door behind him. Gilbert tilts his head to the side, used to people thinking of the room they just came from, but never that much.
"Mr Yortson, you have quite an impressive track record of manipulation," Matthew smiles up at him, and the smile slips. The human nods in a daze, swiveling his head to look behind him once more.
"Is something wrong Mr Yortson?" Matthew asks, folding his hands professionally on his desk. He's prepared to calm the human in case they fight the inevitable. Ivan bites his lip. This is so much fun. Gilbert rolls his eyes.
"No, yes, but.." The human trails off and wiggles in his chair to face the door. Matthew follows his gaze and so does Gilbert. The old King steps forward towards the door, moving to block the human should he try to leave. Ivan can feel the his escaped victim's soul, running through the waiting room, and out the door into the human world once more.
"Who was that man?" The human asks. Matthew narrows his eyes. Gilbert tenses. Ivan has to cover his mouth with a hand to keep from laughing.
"What man?" Gilbert spits out. The human jumps and faces him.
"There was a man, just at the door. He walked out when I walked in." Matthew's eyes widen and he jumps from his seat. Gilbert snarls and flies out the door. Ivan loses it. He doubles over, laughing loudly and covering his stomach with his arms. The action makes Matthew pause and Gilbert walk back into the room with a furious expression. Matthew blinks at him.
"Ivan," Matthew warns. He steps forward. Ivan is still laughing, wiping away tears from his eyes. Matthew doesn't get the chance to ask another question. Gilbert flashes forward, grabbing Ivan by the collar and lifting him off the ground.
"What did you do fuckface?" Ivan sputters out another giggle. He can't fight Gilbert. The old King is still stronger than him. Doesn't mean he can't laugh at his angry expression. Ivan covers his face with his hands. Matthew sighs.
"Ivan what is-" A siren sounds out. A loud blaring noise. Ivan is dropped to the ground. He lands with a thud and pushes his palms to his mouth to stop his noise. Matthew freaks out, telling the human to stay put. He snaps ropes around his wrists to be sure. He flies from the room. As soon as he's gone, Gilbert bursts out into cackles. He leans back and lands on his back with a bang. He kicks his legs up in the air. Ivan allows himself to be heard. He throws back his head and lets it pour out. This is already far more interesting than he ever could have thought.
"Oh son of a bitch that's so fucking great, you messed up piece of shit this is awesome!" Gilbert wheezes out between his guffaws. Ivan pushes himself to his feet to leans against his knees. He bites his lip to try and stop but it doesn't work. The human is flickering his eyes between them in terror. The sirens stop. He's still giggling when Matthew comes back with Francis.
"I'm going to take a wild guess and say Ivan is responsible for the alarm going off?" Francis deadpans. Gilbert is pointing at him now, trying to sputter out an answer but after every syllable he can't continue. Matthew huffs and kicks him lightly in the chest. Ivan stands up as best he can. He nods his head for Francis to see. The King of Hell sighs.
"Ivan do you know how dangerous it is to let a human leave Hell once they have entered?" Francis pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Ivan nods his head. He knows exactly what will happen. The human's psyche won't be able to handle the normality of the living world. They will look like an escapist from a mental hospital. With them coming from Hell, they might as well be. They will hurt more people and get the cops called on them for sure. They will think everyone is a demon in disguise. They will be sentenced to death. They won't be able to die again. Ivan is so excited. Francis sighs again.
"Gilbert if I may ask of you to look over things and settle the others down while I handle this?" The King is rubbing at his temples now. Gilbert waves him off and skips through the door to start barking orders. The demons are all in a rut, just minorly freaking out about the warning sirens. It could have meant anything for them. Angels could have been attacking for all they know.
"Ivan," the King's voice is cold. Ivan bites his tongue to maybe hide his smile. Francis is glaring at him.
"You will be coming with me to retrieve the human." Ivan's smile brightens at the order. He nods his head with a giggle. He's so excited to go to the surface. Francis rolls his eyes. They head towards the elevator, hitting the button to bring them to the top. Ivan is giddy. The doors open and the fresh open air of the living fills his senses. Francis grimaces and stomps out, taking to the sky. Ivan follows suit. They make themselves invisible to the humans in the setting sun. Ivan senses out the human's soul when Francis orders him to. It's not too hard to zero in on him. He's running through the street, skidding to stops in front of random people and screaming, then running in the opposite direction. Ivan smirks.
He drops to the ground, Francis follows after him. Ivan giggles. He materializes in front of the human for a second, just long enough for them to see him. As soon as the human is scrambling away he disappears. Francis stops in front of him next, pushing the human farther and farther away from the living and towards a secluded area. They take turns, scaring the human out of his mind. They need to get him away from the crowds to guide him to Hell without others seeing. He enters a park. Ivan stops in front of him, this time completely solid. The human screams and tries to skid away, but Ivan grabs his hand. He smiles sweetly at the human. He grips his hand tight, making him yell out. Francis comes closer, spreading his arms to call the elevator to him.
"What is going on here?" The sudden voice makes both demons turn to the sky. Two angels descend on them. Francis forces a polite smile on his face, dropping his hands. The trip home can wait. He gives a side glare to Ivan. He giggles and looks back to the human.
"Good evening," Francis greets, stepping towards the angels once they land. Ivan keeps his eyes on the human now. The human is struggling against him. He doesn't mind. The human is nothing compared to him.
"A human escaped Hell, we were just retrieving them," Francis says curtly. Ivan's smile turns sinister at the rising fear in the human's face.
"How does a human escape Hell so easily?" Ivan recognizes the voice of Natalia, the High Angel that deals with demons when they overstep their boundaries in the living world. He's dealt with her before. She's cold. He likes her. She doesn't like him.
"Apparently," Francis growls in his direction. Ivan peeks over his shoulder to smile at him.
"One of my demons thought it would be funny," Francis's tone is strained. He's trying too hard to be collected. Ivan giggles again.
"I was right~" He sings out, laughing more. He hears Francis sigh. Seeing everyone so flustered over his actions is some of the most fun he's ever had. Even angels had to come to see what happened. When it's silent for too long, Ivan blinks innocently at them all. Francis has a hand to his head with a grimace on his face. Natalia is glaring, not looking at him. Her wings are large, close to his in size. The tips are black. The other angel makes him pause. Their jaw is slightly dropped and they are giving him an incredulous expression. Their wings are bigger than Natalia's, closer in size to Francis's. They are streaked with gold.
"Fredka!" Ivan smiles widely. He grips the humans hand as tight as he can forcing out a crunch. The human screams out from having the bones broken, his hand now a mangled mess. Ivan drops him to let him writhe on the ground in pain. He skips over to stand right in front of the High Archangel. Alfred glares at him when he comes closer, narrowing his sky blue eyes in anger. Ivan giggles.
"I never had the chance to congratulate you," He claps his hands together like a child. Alfred twitches. It's been nearly 70 years since he's see the angel. The last time he did, Alfred had only been in training to become the High Archangel. He smiles wider and slips his tail around him to wrap around Alfred's leg. The angel doesn't react.
"Congratulations~" Ivan coos softly, hiding his face in his scarf. Natalia sneers at him. Alfred scoffs and detangles himself from the pointed tail, stepping away from the demon.
"Francis," He says sharply. The King looks up tiredly. Ivan giggles again.
"Control your demons," Alfred warns darkly. Francis forces a smile that fades the moment the angels are on their way back up to Heaven. Ivan watches them. Their white wings contrast harshly against the dark blue sky. Francis hits him on the back of his head.
"Ridiculous," Francis snaps at him. Ivan bites his lip to try and stop his laughter. He rubs at his head. The hit didn't hurt, but it gives him something to do with his hands. They grab the human by the arms. Francis spreads his palm wide and raises it to the sky. The elevator rumbles up through the ground and dings open. They step inside still holding tight to the human. Ivan is humming. He loves all the chaos he's caused. The human's nerves are shot.
Ivan is ordered to bring the human back to his room. He does so promptly. He chains the human back the chair. Tears are running down his face. Ivan scowls. He makes the chains extra tight. Outside the room Francis is waiting with his arms crossed. Ivan opens his mouth to speak but Francis raises his hand to stop him. He waves Ivan to follow. The torture demon sighs and does what he's asked. Francis guides him to a solitary confinement room near the end of the path. Kiku is waiting there with his hands folded in front of him professionally. Ivan likes Kiku. He's quiet and very polite. He would like to hear the High Demon of Solitary Confinement scream though. His horns are little corkscrews on the side of his head, and his wings are very long, but very thin. Ivan has a strained smile on his face.
Kiku guides him inside and shuts the door with a bang. Ivan takes a deep breath. He should have figured this would come. Francis had been furious. He caused quite the scandal willingly letting out a human fully aware of the precautions. It's only logical he would get punished. He just wonders how long it will be until he's let out. When he rampaged the first time, he had been punished with confinement for half a year. He knows Gilbert had to, just as he knows now that Francis has to. He can't get away with it. If Francis let him off the hook the other demons would riot. Most likely. Even Ivan didn't want that. There would be no order anymore.
He wanders about in the darkness having nothing better to do. He paces back and forth. He spins in slow circles with his arms and wings out. He's still unsure how the room works. Maybe it's a trick of the mind. He keeps his wings out most of the time. It feels better. He hums to himself as well. Anything to keep himself occupied. After walking for what seems like forty days, Ivan can't keep walking. He drops to his knees. He lays on his stomach with his cheek to the floor. He focuses on breathing. He doesn't want to fall asleep. He doesn't know what his mind will create in the darkness. He doesn't want to go through an after nightmare daze in this room.
"IVAN!" He snaps his head to the door. As quick as he can he jumps from his bed. He locks the door and pushes his dresser up against it. He yelps when a bang jiggles the door handle. He backs away, scrambling onto his bed in the corner.
"Where are you little rat?!" He bite his lip and pulls his legs up close. Another bang on the door. He clenches his eyes tight. Another bang.
"Open this door!" Ivan shakes his head even though no one can see him. He folds in on himself as tight as he can. He covers his ears with his hands. Tears are slowly making their way down his face. He didn't mean to not clean the dishes. They slipped his mind when he pulled the weeds and washed the car. He's shaking now. The bangs are still coming. They don't stop for an hour. Everyday he hides. He doesn't want to get hit. Not again. It hurts. It hurts so much. It stings and burns and leaves a welt. It's hard to hide when it's on his face. He cries silently as the banging slowly comes to a stop. The insults are gone.
He knows his father doesn't like him. He tries so hard to be in his good graces. He's apologized so many times for killing his mother, for not being good enough. His father never listened. Ivan couldn't do anything right. He blamed himself for it all. He wraps his arms around his legs and cries into his knees. The house is silent. It takes another hour until Ivan can make out his father snoring. He breathes a sigh of relief. He sneaks out of his room and to the kitchen. As quietly as he can he grabs food and dives back into his room. He holds his breath until the snoring reaches his ears. He pushes his dresser back in front of the door. He eats his small sandwich slowly. It hurts to move sometimes.
There's a tapping at his window. Ivan fumbles at the noise. He twists around and falls to the ground with a thump. He whimpers. He holds still, eyes widening in horror, hoping he didn't wake his father. He almost cheers when the snoring continues. He crawls to his feet and to the window. His friend is there, covering his mouth to stop his giggling at Ivan's graceful floor hug. Ivan flips the lock, pushing the window up with a huff.
"What are you doing here?" He hisses when the window is cracked open. He can't open it all the way. His friend is loud and that means waking up. He doesn't want that. His friend giggles again.
"I came to see.. You." His friend's smile falls. Ivan scrunches up his face, then covers his red cheek. He forgot about it for a second. His father hit him earlier. Ivan crawled to his room while the man got more alcohol. He didn't mean for his friend to see it. He thought it might be invisible in the darkness.
"Ivan what happened?" His friend asks full of worry. He leans closer to the window, placing his hand against it. Ivan cringes. He shakes his head. He doesn't want to talk about it. His friend huffs. Ivan places his other hand to the window against his friend's.
"My family is moving," His friend whispers. Ivan whines. His friend can't leave. He's the only friend Ivan's ever had. They belong together.
"I don't want to. I want to stay with you," His friend narrows his eyes, face twisted up in a pout. Ivan glances at the door. His father is still snoring. He lifts the window just a little higher so he can hold his friend's hand comfortably. They lace their fingers together.
"Ivan will I ever see you again?" Ivan gulps, caught off guard by the sadness in his friend's blue eyes. He's never seen him sad. He's always been happy and kind and Ivan can feel his heart hurting. Ivan lowers his eyes. He doesn't know if he'll ever see him again. There is a good chance he never will. His friend puffs up.
"That's not fair," He growls. Ivan shushes him. His friend shakes his head and speaks quieter.
"It's not fair that I met you and now I can't keep you." Ivan clenches his eyes shut. This is the angriest he's ever heard his friend. Ivan knows how he feels though. He doesn't want his friend to leave. He doesn't want to lose him. He belongs to Ivan.
"Ivan can I kiss you one more time?" He snaps his eyes up to meet his friend's, their face twisted into determination.
"What? But you-" The words get stuck. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish. They only kissed that one time on the cliff. Ivan hides his face in his scarf.
"Please? I don't know when I'll be able to see you again," His friend leans closer whispering the words. Ivan bites his lip. He glances up to scan their face then nods. Carefully and quietly, Ivan lifts the window as high as he can. His friend gives him a sad smile and angles closer inside the window. Ivan inhales gently and leans forward to-
He wakes up screaming into the blackness. He tries to move but the room has shrunk to his body. Ivan twitches on the ground, his neck aching from the position. He lifts his head up and it bangs against the edge of the walls around him. He groans and flops back down. He pulls his wings as close as he can. He tenses up his muscles and relaxes. He bangs his head up against the walls edge a few more times. Anything to bring pain to his skull. He groans again. He didn't want to sleep. He's done too much of that already.
He doesn't know how long he waits on the ground. He's sure the wall won't move until he goes back to sleep. And he hates that. He struggles and claws as best he can against the floor. He presses his back against the container and screams in anger. He hates solitary. He manages to twist his neck to the other side. Small relief comes from the change. He glares into the darkness. His thoughts are racing. Every time he sleeps he gets flashbacks. They've been tame nightmares so far. He knows a vicious dream is coming.
He keeps his thoughts on what he's going to do to his residents when he's released. He does want to practice bone breaking again. It's very difficult to break every bone individually. Maybe he will do some metal work on one of them. He likes the way metal marks bodies when it's left in to inflame the skin. He takes a deep breath and waits. It's a month later and he's twitching. Maybe he could sleep to relieve the pain of laying down. Only for a second. He could try to wake himself up. Maybe. He closes his eyes again. He thinks of blue eyes to try and keep his dream mostly innocent. He hasn't thought about those eyes willingly in years. He hates them. They haunt him.
Ivan has his eyes shut tight. Small tears are slipping through despite his efforts to stop them. His hands are tied together with shoe string. He's shaking. This position hurts. He's on his knees in the middle of the living room. He has to keep his back as straight as possible as his knees dig into the tile floor. It hurts. He can hear heavy steps walking around the house and around him. They fumble and run into things. Drunk. Ivan refuses to look. He doesn't turn his head even as the footsteps make their way in front of him. He tries hard to stop his shaking.
"Fuckin-hic," The voice above him says. Ivan doesn't move. He bites the inside of his lip to keep from making any noise. He can't afford to make his father any more furious than he is right now.
"Lift your ugly head," Ivan obeys. He stretches his neck up as high as he can. A slap echoes through the house and deep seated sting is burning at his face. More tears are slipping through and no matter how hard he tries to stop them, they keep coming.
"Fucking crying you little-" Another slap to the other cheek. He holds his head as high as possible still. There's more muttered curses. Ivan suddenly has hair pulled. It hurts. He lets out a whine. This makes the hand on his hair tighten with a growl. He's shaking hard. The hand lets go and he fumbles down. He quickly moves back to his straight postured position. His knees hurt. He can hear metal clinking. He tenses as he realizes what's going to happen. He gulps just a second before the collar is wrapped around his neck. It's suffocating but he doesn't cough. He doesn't struggle. He won't be able to survive the beating if he does.
"Walk," The word is hissed. Ivan drops his hands to the ground just as he's ordered to do. Once he's sure his face is to the ground does he open his eyes. He can see the muddy tips of his father's boots. There's a tugging and the prongs on the inside of the collar spike against his throat. His father pulls the chain leash. Ivan struggles to get his leg to move forward. The muscles are tight. He manages to wiggle his legs forward and start the process. He crawls around the house with his father behind him pulling at the collar, making it harder and harder for him to breathe comfortably.
He stumbles down a step and his father yanks him back. He lands on his back with a thwack. He shuts his eyes tight once more. He doesn't want to see the disappointment on his father's face. He's seen it too much already. His father kicks his stomach and Ivan curls in on himself. It hurts. The kicking doesn't stop. Not until Ivan is crying out loud and screaming for his father to stop. He get's one kick to the head. It jogs his brain and makes him dizzy. He lays limp on the ground. He can hear his father stepping away from him. He struggles, every inch of his fourteen year old body hurting. He stumbles into his room and locks the door. He manages to push a dresser in front of his door just as his father yells out, asking where he is. Ivan doesn't answer. He lays against the dresser on the floor as his father bangs towards him. Ivan won't let him in. Ivan never let him in. He won't dare to open the door when the last time he opened the door to his father's threats he got beat within an inch of his life.
For an hour the door rattles and the insults come. Ivan knows he's a horrible child for disobeying his father. He knows he's a rotten spoiled child who should be thankful to be living. He knows it's his fault the world is a mess even though he hasn't left this little town in years. It's his fault. It's always his fault. Ivan lets his tears fall quietly, he barely flinches as a bottle breaks against the floor. He'll clean it up later while his father sleeps. He can't move now. He can't find the effort to lift his head. He can't move. He's stuck. There's no room. He can't. He-
Ivan's crying when he wakes up. The room is wide again and he can sit up. He flips to his back. Mechanically he sits up. The tears on his cheeks feel odd. He doesn't remember the last time he cried. Probably the last time he went into solitary confinement. He wipes the offensive proof of emotion off his face. He brings his legs up close to his body. He covers his ears with his hands, trying hard not to cut his palms. He rocks back and forth with his eyes shut tight. His wings wrap around him to hide him even more in the darkness. He begins to scratch his nails into his scalp. He slices his skin open. The blood dripping down his head. He can clean it up later. The pain is welcome.
Without warning he begins to laugh. It's quiet at first, then it gets louder, rumbling through his chest and out. It's a forced noise, pushed out roughly. He doesn't care. He laughs until his sides hurt, until his head hurts. His body is shaking. He twists to his knees and bangs his fist on the ground. He claws at it. He keeps laughing. He's twitching violently. This is why he hates sleep. No matter what he does. His dreams always come and they always make him violent. He wants to hurt someone. He wants to hurt. He scratches at his arms making them bleed too. The relief only lasts a second. He keep scratching. Only when he feels like passing out from blood loss does he stop. He wavers side to side. He puts his head to the ground and breathes slowly. He will not fall asleep again. He will not subject himself to that pain again.
When his head is clear and he licks his wounds to sear them together, he stands. It's hard with nothing to brace himself against. He manages just fine. He walks on. It doesn't matter how tired he gets, he keeps going. He refuses to lose his open space and refuses to subject himself to more memories. His legs are stinging. His feet are heavy. He drops to his knees and wheezes. He puts his hands to his head and scratches again. The more pain he feels the more awake he feels.
The door opens and he's disoriented. He brings his wings in close so he can to shield himself from the light. Someone steps forward and into his field of vision. He can recognize Matthew's soft smile. The greeter helps him to his feet and out of the room. Ivan's head hurts. Matthew guides him through a secluded part of Hell so the other demons don't see him in a weak state. They wouldn't be able to handle the High Demon of Torture looking the way Ivan does. Matthew sits him in a chair in a room far off from the others. He runs his fingers through Ivan's hair sealing the wounds up. He takes a wet rag and cleans off some of the dried blood.
"Do you need to talk about it?" Matthew asks softly. Ivan just blinks his eyes lazily. He feels a bit numb. He shakes his head, then nods it. He shuts his eyes tight.
"I don't like to dream." He bites out. Matthew nods his head in understanding. Ivan is not the only demon who refuses to sleep, though the others are not in as stressful jobs. Ivan curls his arms around him. Like snakes his chains slither out of his arms and around his body to hold him tight. Matthew massages his scalp soothingly. Ivan feels weak. He hates crying and he hates losing his mind and he hates his skin and he hates his father and he hates blue eyes and he hates himself. The spike of emotion dies as quickly as it came. His body numbs and so does his mind. He's fine. He's okay now.
His eyes get foggy. He's done being a mess. He shakes his head, removing Matthew's fingers from it. The chains zip back to their spots. He stands up and smiles at Matthew.
"I am fine now little Matvey," He keeps his smile on even though Matthew cringes. The greeter asks him a few more times if he's sure he's fine. Ivan is. Being able to breathe new air and see the ends to a room makes him feel better. He hasn't forgotten about his breakdown or his dreams, but they don't seem to matter as much anymore. He leaves a baffled Matthew to return to work. He walks through the workroom like nothing ever happened. He smiles sweetly at the demons who stare at him. Francis gives him a warning glance through the window. Ivan just giggles.
He spent five months in solitary. It felt like much longer. He greets his residents with a smile. They had been under the care of his second in command while he couldn't. He's a little disappointed in the work done, but it'll do. He uses wire to sew one of his resident's legs together to form a twisted mermaid tail. He almost wonders if it'll work in water. Probably not, but it would be fun to see them drown. He sews their fingers together too.
He's able to remove some of his own torture energy on a resident who decided beating his mother and sister into submission would be fun. Ivan chains him to the ceiling in the middle of the room and takes his pipe to the skin. He beats the boy hard. He hits every ounce of skin he can see and more. He smiles at the screams being let out. They sound like music. Halfway through beating him Ivan begins to laugh. When his victim starts to shout out how crazy he is, it makes him laugh harder. Crazy. He's heard that term so many times before. Nearly everyone he's ever come in contact with has called him that. It's a second name by now.
He throws himself into working. He takes hour breaks between every room to pace and think about what he could do to the next victim. He keeps going. For months he subjects himself to the torment of others. It clears his mind and keeps him from doing anything else reckless to end him in solitary again. Only when Francis calls him to his office does he take a long break. He gets the memo from a lower level demon in passing. He heads to the office and knocks politely on the door. Arthur opens it.
"Ah good afternoon Ivan," He says with a smile. Ivan nods courteously to him. Arthur steps out and Ivan steps in. Francis is sitting on his desk flipping through a random file and chewing on a pen. Ivan walks closer and takes a seat in one of the chairs across from the King.
"How did your time in confinement go?" Francis asks mindlessly, not looking up from his papers. Ivan smiles to himself. He considers Francis his friend of sorts. The King is kind to him, more than others at least.
"Very well," He says with a giggle. It did go well. He hurt. That's the point of torture. Francis sighs and places his file on the desk. He regards Ivan with a serious expression.
"You do realize the severity of what you did right?" His tone is dark, warning Ivan to not say the wrong thing. This put a lot of pressure on him from the angels and the demons.
"Yes, and I will not do it again," Ivan smiles brightly up at him. Francis glares for a moment, his eyes flashing threateningly. He shakes his head and gives a strained smile.
"Please don't. You made a very big mess." Ivan pouts at that. He doesn't really like messes. He's kind of sad to have caused one. He stands.
"Francis, if I may, can I have permission to go to the surface?" He smiles sweetly. Francis raises an eyebrow at him.
"And do what exactly?" Francis crosses his ankles. Ivan hums in thought.
"There is a little town I wish to visit, I do not wish to interact with any humans while I'm there." Ivan informs him. He folds his hands in front of him. Francis taps his pen to his lips. He stares at Ivan for a minute before sighing.
"No human interaction and back in the morning to keep working." Francis slips off his desk and walks around to his chair. He flops in and waves Ivan off. Ivan giggles and thanks the King nicely. He practically skips to the elevator. A new button shows at the top signaling the surface world. He presses the button excitedly. He snaps his fingers on the way up. His dark jeans change to a fresh pair and his boots change to a simple pair of gym shoes. His black shirt changes into a soft long sleeve one. He rubs his hands over his scarf, collecting any blood drips that may have got on it. He flicks away the specks.
The elevator dings and opens up to the same area they left earlier. Ivan spins around in the park, his scarf twirling around him. He jump off the ground, his wings catching him in the air and propelling him upward. He soars through the sky, making himself invisible to the human eyes. The sky is darkening around him. He flips onto his back, touching the clouds above. He knows he's close to angel territory, but they always stay higher up in the clouds. He laughs and bends back, letting his weight drag him towards earth. He stops himself before he gets too low. He passes over tall buildings and landscapes. He flies for two hours.
He drops to the ground at the edge of his old little town. The town has been recently redone and fixed up. New buildings have sprouted up. He walks slowly through the darkened town. There are no humans awake. He passes by his old home. He momentarily debates setting it on fire. He can feel souls inside, innocent ones. Francis beat it into him to not harm innocence. He will respect the wish of his King. He's hurt enough innocent people.
He wanders through the forest area. The trees seem so small now that he's grown. He steps on branches making them crack. He shivers. He's not cold. He comes to a small rocky hill. He grabs a rock up high and hoists himself up with a single pull. He walks on slower now. He can see the sky peeking out behind the leaves. He steps right up to the ledge. The sky shines down on him. The stars are everywhere. Just like before, the town doesn't give off enough light to hinder star gazing. Ivan keeps his eyes on the twinkling lights as he sits down, dangling his legs off the edge. The stream below is bubbling. Ivan tosses a rock into it.
Memories come flooding back to him. He had been so small and pudgy. Toddling around town with a smile on his face and dark thoughts nowhere near him. So innocent and sweet. He remembers snow falling and feeling more at home than he had since he first came to the little town. He ran around with his cheeks puffed red. He wore a simple light jacket those days. Everyone called him crazy, but Ivan felt alive. Snow had been his home.
He closes his eyes and thinks hard. He snaps his fingers and a soft purple mist envelops him. He can feel it contorting his body. He opens his eyes and looks down at his little seven year old sausage fingers. He closes and opens his hands, feeling odd in the small body. His clothes have changed back to small jeans and a puffy little jacket like the one he used to wear. He glances up at the sky, still feeling the same small size even when bigger. Nothing ever changed about the sky. That's what Ivan liked about it.
"What are you doing here?" He snaps his head around to face the voice. Instantly his child façade disappears. The purple mist puffs up around him and he's big again, staring wide eyed at Alfred. The High Archangel is wearing a simple pair of light blue jeans and a long sleeved white shirt. His white wings are bright contrasting the dark green of the trees behind him. His arms are crossed and there's a scowl on his face. Ivan smiles gently at him.
"Do you ever feel really small even though you are really big?" Ivan faces away from him and back to the sky. He leans back on his hands, spreading his wings across the ground. He hums softly to himself. He hears Alfred huff and come closer. The High Archangel drops down next to him. Alfred pulls his legs up to his chest and hugs them to him. He's looking at the sky too.
"Why are you here Ivan?" Alfred asks quietly. Ivan giggles. He likes Alfred. The angel doesn't like to put up with him. He thinks it's fun.
"Visiting~" He sings out. He kicks his legs back and forth much like a five year old. Alfred sighs and releases his legs now sitting criss cross. He leans back on his hands too. Ivan closes his eyes and hums a happy tune. It's been a long time since he's been in this spot. It's been his favorite star gazing spot since first introduced to him. No matter where he went, nothing could compare.
"I haven't been here in so long." Alfred muses. Ivan stops his hums to giggle. Alfred lives in the clouds, he could see the world from up there. He can see thousands of stars for miles and miles. He's confused as to why Alfred just didn't stay up there.
"Why are you here Fredka?" The angel tenses at the use of the nickname. Ivan brings his hands to his stomach not removing his stare from the angel. Alfred wrings his hands together in his lap.
"Saw you flying, had to make sure you weren't doing something stupid." Alfred mumbles at the ground. Ivan giggles, hiding his smile in his scarf.
"I think you are lying," Ivan teases, his Russian accent thickening in his words. Alfred scoffs and stands up.
"I think you deserved to go to Hell." The angel turns abruptly. Ivan can't help but laugh. He deserved to go to Hell that he knows. It's obvious to him.
"You are just like me Fredka," Ivan says softly. He doesn't look behind him to see the fiery expression he knows is on Alfred's face. Even though he says it quietly, it's silent enough for any words to be heard between them.
"What." Alfred's tone is dark. Ivan smiles and peeks over his shoulder. He's right. Alfred is glowering at him, his blue eyes burning. Ivan beats his wings once to lift him to his feet.
"You are cold, and harsh, and ruthless." With every word Ivan takes a step closer to the fuming angel. He stops just a foot away.
"We just have different outlets," Ivan smiles down at him. Alfred is shooting daggers at him. Ivan is lucky Alfred doesn't materialize his holy sword and strike him down. He's enjoying how much he bugs the Archangel. It must bug him how right Ivan is. They are the same. Their mindsets are no different. Ivan craves control. Alfred craves power.
"I wish you never moved away," Ivan says gently, his smile falling away. His expression softens into something close to honesty. He truly wishes Alfred never moved out of town all those years ago. The angel doesn't move, still regarding him with a furious expression.
"It would have been you," he whispers. Alfred shows no hint of changing emotion. Ivan turns back around and heads to the ledge. He stands with his toes nearly hanging off. Maybe if things had been different and Alfred never left him, he could have been better. He could have been more stable in his mind. That's not how life works though. His thoughts drove him to ruin while Alfred used his to better the world around him. He hears footsteps behind him coming closer. He smiles, positive that Alfred will run a sword through his chest, ripping his soul to shreds and killing him permanently. Maybe that would be a welcome change. To never be able to see the light of day again.
"Can I kiss you?" Ivan snaps around so fast he almost falls off the cliff. He blinks wide eyed at Alfred behind him, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. Ivan doesn't know how to react. Right now he's seven years old again. Right now he's innocent and sweet and only has one friend in the world. Right now he doesn't know if he's dreaming.
"What? But you-" Ivan doesn't know what to say. His mind has gone blank. Alfred can't do that. He hides his face in his scarf and glares at the ground. Alfred huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.
"It won't change anything." He says bitterly. Ivan glances at him and his puffed up expression. He steps closer to him.
"If I do, what happens to-"
"Absolutely nothing. It changes nothing about how I feel for you and it changes nothing about me or my position." Alfred hisses out, turning his eyes viciously to Ivan who is now smiling down at the pouting angel.
"How does Fredka feel for me?" He asks teasingly. Ivan takes another step closer, and so does Alfred. The angel glares at him.
"I don't." He snaps. Ivan giggles. He takes one last step towards the angel. They are less than a foot away from each other. Alfred's blue eyes are hiding none of his distaste for Ivan. Ivan smiles down at him. The angel huffs and uncrosses his arms. He takes one small step to bring them even closer. Ivan's smile falls. He's hit with the sudden remembrance as to why he hates the angel's eyes. It's cause he can't have them. They don't belong to him. Alfred is not his toy. Those eyes will never plead for him. They will never beg him to stop. He inhales and Alfred's lips crash onto his. His tail has a mind of it's own, wrapping one of the angel's legs in a vice grip. Other than that, the two make no move to touch each other, arms at their sides.
They pull away sharply, but stay close, their breath intermingling. Ivan opens his eyes and to stare down at the angry angel. He smiles. He's never had such a strong urge to possess. Sure he's wanted to keep Matthew around to hear him scream. He wanted Toris to stay so he could be Ivan's toy. But Alfred? He wants to lock him away and let no one see him ever again. For his eyes only. The angel belongs to him.
Ivan doesn't feel sexual wanting often, barely ever. He never questioned it. The thought of taking Alfred for his own though has his blood rushing through his veins. He leans down and kisses Alfred harshly once more. The angel doesn't push him away. His hands are balled into fists at his sides. He's wanted to see that pretty little smile break for so long. He wants to control everything about him. He wants to own the angel. Somewhere in his mind, he can tell Alfred feels the same, only he wants to lock Ivan away from everyone else instead. He growls into the angel's lips, causing him to pull back.
They stand there, close in each other's presence, not touching. Ivan's tail releases it's death grip on Alfred's leg leisurely. They lean their heads next to each other, barely touching. Ivan can feel the angel's breath on his neck, slipping past his scarf. He grits his teeth. He turns his head towards the angel and Alfred hisses pulling back suddenly. He puts a hand to his cheek and cringes. Ivan tilts his head to the side. Alfred removes his hand to show a shallow cut across his cheek. Ivan's eyes widen and he smiles brightly. His horn cut the angel's cheek. For the first time, Ivan reaches for Alfred, grabbing his face and avoiding the cut. He brings the angel's face close and licks up the line of blood agonizingly slow, enjoying the mewls Alfred is letting out in pain. The angel snatches Ivan's scarf and pulls it, angling the demon closer just slightly. The metallic taste of blood does nothing to quell Ivan's desperate need to claim the angel.
Alfred steps away the moment the cut is healed. Ivan runs his tongue over his teeth. There's a near invisible line of the High Archangel's cheek. Ivan loves it. It's his own claim on the angel. No one else can have him. Alfred rubs his face to remove Ivan from it. The demon doesn't mind. He knows what happened, and so does Alfred. He takes a step back closer to the edge.
"I do not love Fredka," Ivan says simply, taking more steps away from the angel. The sun will be rising and he needs to head back down. Alfred glares at him, unfazed by what Ivan just told him.
"You can always come and be mine though," Ivan smiles widely. He doesn't expect Alfred to take up the offer. The angel sneers, his blue eyes narrowing at the idea.
"Never in a million years," He snarls. Ivan giggles and claps his hands together like a child. He's at the edge of the cliff now. Alfred is still standing near the trees.
"Then I will see you in a million and one," He giggles once more and falls back off the cliff. He smiles at the concern he sees in Alfred's blue eyes as he hits the ground and sinks through. He doesn't like Alfred, but there is something about the way his cold eyes hold fire that make Ivan want to hold him tight and break his spine. He wants to see that angry expression only for him. Alfred belongs to him, just as much as Ivan belongs to the angel.
Ivan drops. The earth moves around him. He lands in his room with a bang. He sits up directly, a wide smile on his face. He giggles to himself in his room. The taste of Alfred's blood still on his teeth. He heads out and snaps his fingers. His long sleeves shorten and his typical black jeans reappear. His boots lace up his legs as he makes his way towards Francis's office. He grabs his files and knocks on the door of the King. There's a muffled yell. Ivan opens the door. Arthur is sitting on Francis's lap in the large armchair behind the desk.
"Ah! Thank you sir for letting me visit the surface~" He sings out. Francis laughs and waves him on. Ivan closes the door and hums his way to the elevator. He goes about the rest of his day in a delightful mood. Trying to create bruises on his residents that resembles certain blue eyes. It's a fruitless effort but that doesn't stop him from trying.
Ivan smiles to himself as he bangs another nail into the skull of a victim. Their yells have turned to a garbled mess and their limbs are twitching violently. When Ivan taps certain nails he feels like a puppet master with the way the human flops about. It makes him giggle. He's tempted to call Gilbert so he can see. The old King would get a kick out of it for sure. He finishes up and washes his hands in the sink. He puts his hands to his scarf to collect the blood from it, rinsing it down the drain. He unties the bow around his back to let the ends flow behind him.
He exits with a soft click. He walks to the elevator. It opens with a ding and he presses the surface button. It takes him up high and to the outskirts of a small little town in the middle of nowhere. He wanders through the darkened streets, completely unafraid of someone seeing him. He trudges through the woodland area. He comes to a rock hill and flaps his wings once to raise himself above them. He walks the rest of the way to a cliff with an excellent view of the stars.
Sitting on the edge is an angel with large white wings and golden marks running through the feathers. Ivan steps forward and makes himself comfortable next to Alfred. They say nothing. No words are needed. It's been ten years since their rekindling. Once a year, they spend a winter night on the edge of the cliff looking at the stars like they are seven years old again. When the sun comes up, Ivan drops through the earth and Alfred takes for the sky.
Alfred huffs and snatches Ivan's hand, lacing their fingers together. Ivan giggles, hiding his face in his scarf. It's such a simple thing, yet it's one of the few that make him feel like he owns the angel. He hums lowly, smiling at the stars. Alfred scoffs at him. He giggles once again. Maybe Alfred is right. Maybe he did deserve to go to hell, but that's okay with him. For just one night, the dreams do not come, and he can have the one thing he's always craved.
AN: Thank you for reading the third story in the Demon Trilogy. I hope you enjoyed.