Sculpting a Demon Read Free Page A

her hands.
    Behind her, the candles flared and danced, casting shadows and light over Lila and her slowly evolving creation while the rain continued to pound out its steady backbeat.

Chapter Two
     
    Arien sat at the bar in the Grand Hall of hell, slowly stirring his drink with the tip of his finger. He glanced around for the umpteenth time, hoping for something, anything to break the monotony. Demons and other denizens of hell draped themselves over the bar, some staring blankly into their drinks, others boasting to one another about their great feats of possession and havoc. Moans of agony and despair from the nearby dungeons filled the air with the music of the damned, the torment of lost souls enduring their eternal punishment. Arien sighed heavily and cradled his head in his hand. Same old, same old.
    This whole ennui thing was most unlike him. Usually, he had no problem entertaining himself. There were humans to tempt and strife to spread after all. But lately, none of his old pursuits interested him in the slightest. While on some level he found this all very troubling, he in no way felt compelled to do anything about it. Mostly, he felt…stagnant.
    Hordas, the bartender, served a group of demons a round of foaming cocktails and then slithered his way down the bar to Arien. “Get you another?” he asked.
    Arien shrugged. “Why not?”
    “Something wrong?” Hordas asked as he brewed another concoction.
    “Not really,” Arien said, stretching out his wings and then let them settle again against his back. Once upon a time they had been pure, incandescent white, but when he fell from Grace they turned black as night. And though it had been nearly half an eternity since he had even glimpsed Paradise, the sight of his jet-black wings still sometimes caught him by surprise. “Just…bored.”
    “Why don’t you go play in the Lust Circle?” Hordas asked, placing the finished drink in front of Arien. “That always cheers me up.”
    “Why bother? So some succubus can drain my life force?”
    The horror on Hordas’ scaly face told Arien exactly what the bartender thought of that. Lust was Hordas’ solution to every problem. Usually Arien would have agreed, but lately not even the mortal sin playgrounds appealed to him. Lust, Gluttony, Greed, all admirable purists, and yet he couldn’t muster the energy to care. Maybe it was that the indulgences came too easily. Maybe if he had to actually put forth any kind of effort it’d be more rewarding. Maybe he was getting old.
    “What do you care if they do suck up some of your essence?” Hordas asked, finally recovering himself. “It’s not like it’s going to do anything to you. You’re practically immortal.”
    “That’s not the point,” he sighed.
    “I don’t know what to tell you, Arien,” he said, and began wiping down the bar. “It’s sad to see you like this.”
    “It’s sad to see me like this?” Arien asked, incredulous. “You’re a misery demon. You feed on despair.” He took a sip of his drink. “I would think you’d be pleased with the free meal.”
    “Hmm,” Hordas said, eyes narrowing as he read Arien’s aura. “Maybe if you were actually in despair. But what I sense from you is something else entirely, and whatever it is just makes you taste stale.”
    “Stale,” Arien said quietly. “How apt.”
    “Great Prince of the Darkness, you are depressing today,” Hordas said. “Hey, remember that time you tricked that king into believing his gods wanted to make him ruler of the world?” Hordas asked in an obvious effort to cheer Arien up.
    A ghost of a smile touched Arien’s lips. “You know I don’t trick anybody into anything. I merely suggested that if such gods did exist, they could probably make someone the king of the world if they desired.” His smile grew wider as he recalled that particular escapade to the human realm. That king had been a power-hungry, ruthless fool. His bloodlust had been profound, even by human