There was a place removed from space and time. An alternate dimension, resting somewhere beyond the realm of human comprehension, with walls that melted all the alternate universes around it together into glass portraits, memories, and vague images that rippled and shifted like a wave breaking on a shore of clear glass sand. Windows hung before these, opening to cool nothing breezes that chilled the skin in an uneasy way.
All the windows were closed at the moment, pink sheer slip-curtains hanging limply around them. There was shag carpet flooring, and it felt warm like cotton on fire underfoot. It was a deep crimson, and in the middle of the room there was one flickering TV set that displayed the goings-on in the unsuspecting, victimized city of Townsville.
In front of this television set rested an old, dilapidated pink couch- upon which rested a long, thin, very red figure.
It was Mephistopheles.
His skin was painted with black porcelain doll lips that stretched too far, and two very light pink porcelain doll blush marks, circles right at the high cheekbone, framing the pearly white cheshire grin. He had no hands. They had been brutally sawed off- or at least ripped off- and their replacement happened to be large lobster-like claws that were a dripping blood red. These were screwed straight into the wrist bone- or what was left of it, and the stain of ripped flesh and old blood still stained His lower arms darkly, like decorative gloves.
This- this demon- wore a thin, blood red pleather dress at the moment. It had sleeves that were white, sheer chiffon, and gathered tremendously. The chiffon completely engulfed everything up to the chin, and was fluffed in the back so tremendously that it reached the ears. There was similar gathered chiffon at the bottom of the leather dress, which ended just short of exposing some...VITAL parts. Then there was the very skintight thigh-high black pleather ballet boots, accentuating how small His feet appeared to be.
Draped over the couch like a lover, Mephistopheles slowly devoured a single chocolate-covered strawberry that was poised on the end of a stick. The couch creaked as He leaned forward, staring at the screen with interest.
There was Professor Utonium, busying himself with the futile attempt at human transmutation. That was, to say, he was trying to create human life from simple ingredients and the power of science. Not that alchemy was unheard of, but...sugar, spice, and everything nice wasn't exactly a recipe for anything more than ginger snaps.
In the back of His mind, He felt two children arguing. The two children were separate perspectives for how He had imagined the three 'perfect' little girls turning out in His mind. He found Himself unawares of what was going on- perhaps the three perfect little girls were going to be created after all. It troubled Him to no end, and He wanted a part in that creation process- not sitting at the sidelines, watching it happen. Still, Mephistopheles leaned forward to watch that little television that would show him what was going on.
Before Him was displayed the Professor, mixing the inert ingredients together. However, He leaned forward as He saw the lab monkey, Jojo, running from place to place, breaking everything.
And then the destructive little chimpanzee ran towards the Professor. This caused Professor Utonium to lurch dangerously towards the other chemicals he had nearby...The handle of the spoon he was mixing with smashed the Chemical X, and the ominous black mixture completely emptied into the concoction. The resulting explosion was dazzling.
He smiled. He knew that moving that particular container of chemicals was a good idea last time He was there. In fact, He had been the one responsible for the chemical's creation- It's amazing the things people won't think of if you happen to leave some mysterious, unlabeled notes on their desk with no name that could possibly be the scientific breakthrough to get them the Nobel Peace Prize...or something along those lines.
He slowly watched the aftermath unfold, gently removing the screws from the wrist bones, as the claws were impeding Mephistopheles' ability to lean forward on the couch comfortably. The lab assistant Jojo- who had a hand in the creation of the girls- was now experiencing the unfortunate side-effects of exposure to the chemical X. He had not planned that, but it was very interesting to watch- the chimp was now gaining vast amounts of knowledge from the chemical reaction.
The girls had turned out just as He imagined they would. Perfect. He was alone now, and tossed and turned on the couch, yearning for even the semblance of company.