CHAPTER 2 YEAH!

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Many years later, after I resolved to keep my hatred locked away. I would see him again someday, and then boy would I give him a piece of my mind. But, until then, I needed to trek onwards.

I had taken on a few contracts between then and now, just enough to keep my mind active. How many were a few? Only a couple hundred, so not too many. My current one was quite easy, I barely had to raise a finger in comparison to some of my other jobs.

I sat in the bath, relaxing for the first time in days. My muscles were tensing and un-tensing, always ready for a fight, even in the bath. My hair was wet, draping down my back and my eyes were closed. I was trying to remember what my name was. Don't think I'm forgetful, after all, I had had literally millions of names. My current master, whose name is unimportant, was like any other human; greedy, power-hungry, foolish, and always looking for short cuts.

Hmmm…Ah, Ariel. That was my name this round.

This human had summoned me for a standard, simple contract. He wanted fortune, such a typical human. I rolled my eyes. He was not a particularly bright human either. I knew all of the loopholes of our contract, he didn't. If he began to annoy me too much, I could kill him, according to the 59th paragraph. As long as I made it look like an accident, I could still eat his soul too. It would be easy enough for me to do. But, I prefer a soul that is a bit more bitter and apprehensive, wiser and more learned. (Yes it is a word, learned. Have you never read Shakespeare?)

By the time this human realizes money will do nothing for him, and it won't make him happy, it will be too late. I thought. I smirked and did a little giggle at the darkness of my own mind. How devious I could be. He will have ended our contract through clause number 27, which stated;

"Should the human no longer desire monetary objects, the contract automatically goes into the last phase; soul consumption."

He really should have read the contract before signing, but they never do. They never learn. Sometimes I wish this life could be more challenging. I thought to myself. I probably jinxed myself right then.

The water had grown tepid. So, I stepped out onto the plush rug and carefully dried myself. I had gotten my legs dried, when I felt something twang in the back of my mind. One could say my demon senses were tingling. I didn't stop what I was doing, for that might alert whoever was watching me that I had caught on. I took a silent deep breath and realized I could smell and hear the breathing of a human right outside the window. I recognized the scent as the master's teenage son, who was peeking at me through the large Victorian window. He fancied me, as any male with eyes would.

It's the burden of always assuming a beautiful state. I slowly finished drying myself, my back to the young man who most likely had had to climb the thorn-ridden vines on the side of the house just to see me bathe. I kept my womanly possessions hidden by the large tub.

I dropped the towel to the floor and put on a robe to relax a little longer in this bathroom that was much like a parlor. It did have a tiled area for the tub and sink, but, also a large carpeted area that held my vanity and a mirror four times my size on the wall. I slowly turned around, giving the young master time to hide himself and leave "without my noticing." I heard him climb back down the vines, too quietly for any human to hear. I could already smell his blood from where he must have cut his hands on the thorns. Sighing, I muttered aloud, "What am I going to do with that boy?"

I sat in my silk robe in a large soft chair near the window. I looked down and saw the young master "working" on the rose garden. I politely waved at him. He acted shocked, pretending he had no idea I was bathing only moments ago, and waved back. I got up, drew the light blue curtains shut, and returned to my seat. They were transparent enough to let light in freely, but distorting enough to hide anything the room's inhabitants were doing from the outside world. I swear I heard the young master mumble under his breath "Damn it." Perfect hearing can be so useful.

How I loved mansions like this one. Pre-Victorian architecture was so elegant. The large windows and sweeping staircases were so lovely and graceful, with their columns and gardens outside, plush rugs and marble inside. And the mirrors, the mirrors were all large and laced with gold. I loved it all.

I noticed that the mirror had become extremely fogged.

Better clean that. I thought. After all, I was the housemaid. I walked up to the mirror with the towel I had used to dry myself with. I was mere centimeters from the mirror's surface when I heard a squeaking noise. My eyes narrowed suspiciously.

There are no mice in this house, I made sure of that. I thought. I looked at the mirror to see writing had appeared in the fog.

Wait. That was all that the mirror had written on it. Wonderful, some inhuman creature was deciding to contact me now? It was probably Lucifer, asking for another favor from his favorite she-demon. He owed me and he wanted another favor? Well, that just meant he could owe me some more. He was one of the great four highest demons. Other friends told me I should consider myself honored beyond belief to be "friends" with him. If anything, we were business partners, in my mind. I would do his bidding and he would help me with all of my wishes. In his mind, I was most likely no more than a play toy.

I guess that's as close to "friends" as anyone gets in our world. Anyways…

What do you want? I wrote into the fog-laden mirror with my index finger, acting as if I knew exactly whom it was, even though I hadn't the slightest clue.

Is that any way to speak to an old friend? It wrote back. Oh, how rude! It was definitely not Lucifer or anyone of my closer acquaintances. They would've gotten right to the point already. I hated beating around the bush, unless I was the one doing it. Call me a hypocrite, if you'd like.

I decided to risk writing my Epsilan. What is an Epsilan? It is a secret phrase or sentence and response that a demon only gives to their trusted compatriots. Since we have perfect recall, we usually give different responses to different beings for identification purposes.

Every demon's Epsilan reflected on their persona or domain or something like that. Mine reflects my control and love of water. And my domain is aquaria, meaning I simply have certain… abilities and powers and controlling in the water that I wouldn't have elsewhere. It's like having the home-court advantage when you're in or around your domain. I quickly ran through all of the responses I had given out in the past to my Epsilan, so they would be fresh in my mind.

I wrote it in my neat, curvy, scrawl; The shining deeps flow and sing. The tides break, I appear. The response appeared quickly.

And I greet you with a smile on the beach's shore…

Who was that? Ah! No, It couldn't be. I hadn't heard from that one in… hundreds of years, and never wanted to again! Demons never cry… unless under extreme circumstances, and this ass had made me cry. We had worked together for more years than I can count. I loved him so much, and he loved me, or so I had thought. He was so handsome, in any form. He had been brilliant and cunning, determined and brave, loyal to the bitter end. And then one day… he just vanished.

All he had left me was a pathetic little note. A blasphemous note, that had brought tears to my eyes. It broke my heart… or at least it would have if I'd still had a beating one. He never loved me, he just played me, he broke me, and the worst part is that I fell for it. I haven't been able to love another truly since then.

What's that? Sex? Oh, yes, I've still done that since then. Sex is but a tool in the demon world for she-demons. Some male demons have overcome their drive for it and become civilized. But, the more powerful ones crave it to no end. So, yes, I had been able to have sex and put on a show etc. Who says it requires passion or love?

I couldn't leave the mirror like this. I had to be strong. I put on my mask (figuratively of course) and attempted to play my role;

Michaelis. It's been far too long. I wrote smoothly. But, I must have subconsciously changed how I wrote it, for he replied quickly.

You're still angry with me. I expected as much. I can tell from your script.

That pompous, arrogant, know-it-all…. Oh that was it! I never have had patience for arrogance. That smug male! I was a well-known housemaid and a proper lady. I would not take insults like that to my pride. I began to calmly walk away from the mirror. I heard an awful squeak, most likely it was very loud on purpose, to get my attention. I turned and saw more writing.

Please, my dear! Allow me to explain…Not like this. We need to speak, face-to-face.

I wished to read no more. I could be calm and flawless in any situation, and would have been… except… but… I…it…It was him! I grabbed my hairbrush off of the vanity and threw it hard at the mirror. It exploded into a million deadly shards. As I walked away from the shattered mirror, I failed to notice one of the larger shards squealed once more as he wrote on it one last message. Seven words escaped my notice;

I'm sorry, I will find a way.