I walk around the empty rooms of my penthouse. Nothing but the sound of cars driving through the busy boulevard could be heard as I quietly searched through my things. My free time is usually spent watching court cases and preparing for my next piece of art, but this time, I think I would spend it doing something a little different, no longer feeling the need to indulge in my usual hobby.

There used to be nothing more exciting for me than planning my next murder, laying out my blueprints and filling out the spots where things could potentially go wrong. It was like solving a puzzle or playing a game of chess against a formidable opponent. It gave me a thrill, a purpose, but that was until I met her.

Now I'm going to leave everything behind and start anew. Like a phoenix being reborn, I will spread my wings and fly into a faraway land where I can begin my new life with the woman I love.

In my library, inside a drawer, hidden beneath a pile of papers I find my old sketchbook. I skim through the pages and see the last drawing dates back to 15 years ago. That's how long I haven't done even a simple sketch.

I see black and white drawings done with charcoal of our family pet. A ginger cat named Karel ran away when I was 10, he was a great companion and one of my favorite things to sketch, which I usually did while he was asleep. On the next page, there was a picture of my father, I didn't have any photos of him so this served as the only thing I used as a reminder of his appearance. I get to the last page to see an unfinished drawing of my stepmom. I felt like she was staring at me through the page with her prominent strict eyes that used to drain every bit of energy out of me once she got angry. Her portrait remained unfinished because she took away my sketchbook and hid it until I found it inside a cabinet in our old house years later. She hated that I was wasting my time with something so "childish" and "trivial" instead of studying, to the point she made me hate myself for doing it too.

I turn to the next page to reveal a black spread and hold it sideways so I can better use the entirety of it. With my other hand I search for anything I can use to draw, my fingers stumbling upon a black ballpoint pen. Perfect.

I can feel the corners of my mouth unconsciously curling into a smile as I lay out the initial sketch, pressing very lightly so it doesn't mess with the final line art. Of course, a simple ink isn't enough to capture her serene beauty, but I doubt any material on Earth would be sufficient for such a task. I draw her in her usual outfit, all the stripes and everything. I even remember their count. Every single detail, down to the space between her flawless facial features to the tint of her pale white skin. It's all embedded in the back of my mind like a fresco painted in between the folds of my brain.

As I add the finishing touches, the sound of a bell ringing pulls me out of my trance. She's here.

I open the door to greet her. It's like my drawing suddenly came into life, pulled straight from the pages and into reality.

"Did you miss me?" Rin giggles.

"For me, every second I spend away from you is a waste of time," I say pulling her into my arms. "Come let me take you for a spin before we decide on how we're going spend the evening, shall we?"

We walked inside the living room where I could see the painting hanging on the wall above the speakers caught her eye. She stares at it with such a morbid fascination, unlike most people who are usually disturbed by it.

"I like this one," she says, sitting on the sofa. "It's quite famous, isn't it? What was its name again?"

"It's called "Saturn devouring his son" by Francisco Goya. It's one of my favorites."

"Is it an original?"

"Oh no, no," I laugh a bit taken aback by her question. "It can't possibly be. This is a replica. The original is a mural, painted on the walls of Quinta del Sordo in Madrid. Besides, even if it was a painting on a canvas, I doubt a piece like that would be for sale."

I offer her a glass of wine before I sit next to her.

"You mentioned that you used to draw. Do you have any paintings of your own?" She asks.

"It's funny you said that. I actually painted the one you're seeing hanging there. It took me nearly a year but I managed to replicate it down to the smallest detail." It probably would have taken me half as long if I didn't have to hide while doing it. Back then I nearly felt as if I was doing something illegal if Adelina didn't approve of it. "I was I huge fan of his nocturnes. I've redrawn pretty much all of them."

"That's... interesting," she gives me an odd look. "Do you have any original works?"

"Sadly - no," I bite my tongue. "This is a hobby I long abandoned but I think I might get back to it soon. How about you? Do you have any hobbies? Some things that you enjoy doing in your free time?"

"Nope."

I notice her lower lip twitch slightly. She blinks faster than usual as he says it. That's strange, so far I thought I couldn't tell whether or not she was telling the truth.

"You're lying," I say with a mischievous grin. "What is it?"

"I'll tell you some other time, okay," Rin winks at me. She definitely knows how to keep a man interested. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"I can think of a few things," I place my hand on her thigh, filled with impatience as I slowly move it up slightly.

"You're so direct," she smiles, swiftly twisting around so her hips land on mine, then places her hands behind the back of my head. Her eyes are filled with longing and some other strange desire I cannot yet discern the meaning of. She caresses me with her fingerless leather gloves. Feeling the soft skin on her slender fingers sends a tingle down my spine, making my breath heavy and filled with lust. "How about we play a little game first?"

"A game?" I look at her with curiosity.

"Of hide and seek," she adds nonchalantly, leaning in closer to whisper in my ear with her seductive sweet voice. "If you find me, I'll give you a reward."

"How could I say no to that?" I would pretty much agree on anything at this point, enchanted by the promise of her touch.

I close my eyes, counting to 10. She does have a bit of a childish demeanor about her, so her suggestion doesn't surprise me. It will only make it more fun for me once I pin her down and give her what she's asking for.

I spring up, barely able to hold my excitement as I head towards the door leading to the hallway.

As my hand touches the handle, I hear the TV turning, seemingly on its own. It's irritatingly loud and distracting, so I turn off the volume before I continue with my search. Not a split second after, followed like an omen, the phone on the wall rings. I try to ignore it, but it won't stop. It feels like someone is beating me over the head with a hammer. I've told them multiple times to only use this number for emergencies. After letting it ring for another half a minute, I go back to check who it is.

"Hello, this better be important," I say in a strict tone.

I hear a woman sobbing on the other end of the line, struggling to form a sentence as she battles her tears from running down. When she finally starts speaking I begin to recognize her voice.

"Mr. Messer, sir," says Dolores, her voice trembling. "It's about your mother. Her blood sugar was too low, when we found her she was already... cold. I'm so so sorry sir, we have no idea how this could have happened."

"Mhm, anything else?"

"..sir?" I could sense she was confused by my question.

"I'm in the middle of something. I'll get to you later Dolores, have a nice evening." What a waste of time to tell me something I already know.

My eyes roll unconsciously to express my annoyance. As I set the phone down, I noticed the door ajar. Rin was standing there, looking peculiar. She's holding a small wooden box in her shivering hands. My heart skips a beat, feeling a sharp ache ram through it. My face is suddenly drained from all its color when I realize what the contents of that box are.

"Damian, what is this?" She says with a note of shock and bewilderment, the container slipping from her fingers and hitting the ground with the evidence dispersed all over the white carpet.

I should have hidden them somewhere safer. The mementos of my victims. My collection of masterpieces...

All my visions of our life together shattered before my eyes as the truth laid bare in front of me. It wasn't until now that it washed over me. The horrors of what I've done.

I expected her to screech in terror, to run away as fast as her legs could carry her, to faint from the sight of something so abhorrent. What I didn't expect however was to hear a faint giggle, slowly turning into a loud disturbing cackling sound echoing through the entire premise. Her facial expression changed into something wicked, otherworldly, as if up until now she was wearing a mask that hid her true self.

"So it was you after all," she tilts her head with her pitch-black eyes locked into mine.

I don't know what is happening. My mind still trying to process the fact that she now knows my secret. The wonderful dream I had transformed into a nightmare right before my eyes.

The chilling silence between us is broken by the police report, coming from the TV. The topic captures my attention enough for me to avert my eyes to the screen and see a familiar tattoo on a severed hand near the riverbank. The place where they found the limb was behind a movie theater. The same one Rin and I went to yesterday.

"Told you I was more than capable of handling things on my own," she says in a voice deeper and far more menacing than the usual sweet and innocent chirp coming from her mouth.

"Who are you?" I ask. ..

"Come on now, are you really asking me this? I thought you were my biggest fan." She says, lifting her eyebrows in disappointment, all the charm from her smile being replaced by an eerie, ineffable malice. "The question is not who, but what?" She lifts her hand and with the snap of a finger, all of the candles in the room light up, blazing furiously with blue flames that settled as soon as she finished the incarceration of the word: "Hellfire."

"That's a cool party trick you got there," I remain calm as I look around.

"It's not a trick, darling. Every self-respecting demon has the ability to summon hellfire," she sits on the carpet with her legs crossed, picking up the fingers one by one and carefully observing them as if she were searching for something. "I have to be honest, you were on my radar for a while now, but I thought of letting you off the hook. Even got that stupid job as a waitress to keep an eye on you. After all, you were doing my job for me," she picks up the most recent addition to my collection, "but you went ahead and did something unforgivable. You killed someone with a pure heart."

A note of disdain escapes her lips as she holds Cornelia's fingers between hers.

"I thought I couldn't tell when you were lying, it turns out you were telling the truth all along. That's why you kissed me because if you told me that you loved me back, that would've been a lie," I think out loud.

"Cleaver as ever," she notes. "I took the name "Kurosawa" from a movie director. You can't apply for a job using only your first name."

"You mean to tell me demons don't have last names?"

"My father never acknowledged me to give me one. My mother made a deal with a devil in order to become a witch and I was the end product of their copulation. I lived during the Tokugawa shogunate and after the death of my mortal flesh, I went to hell." She moves closer, trying to intimidate me, but I won't budge even when she places her sizzling hand on my chest. "Now I walk the Earth once more."

"I guess the name "Hell's torturer" is spot on then," I smile to which she raises an eyebrow.

"You're not frightened?"

"I've never been more terrified in my life, but I'm also extremely fascinated. This is the first time that I'm talking to a real demon."

"And It's going to be your last," she attempts to drive her nails inside my chest, but at the last moment, I lean back, avoiding the attack. I roll over to the table in the middle of the room, under which I keep my gun in case of emergency. I've never thought the first time I use it, it would be against a demon or whatever this woman claims to be.

My first bullet lands on her chest. A little below the collar bone I see a streak of black liquid ooze down and stain her blouse. The hole closed almost as soon as the first droplet of what I assume was blood hit the floor. She seems unphased by it, not even the next shot, which landed on her forehead caused her to have any reaction. Soon my magazine was empty and she was standing before me with the most unimpressed look a demon can muster.

"バカ やる [baka yaru]," she grits her teeth before effortlessly kicking the gun out of my hand.

"You didn't expect me to give up without a fight, did you?" I shrug.

"There is no point for a mortal like you to fight a demon. Accept your fate."

"All I did was follow in your footsteps. The detective stood in my way, so I had no choice but to finish her. Wouldn't you have done the same if you were in my shoes? Aren't the ones preventing you from doing your job as good as sinners?"

"My job?" Rin squats down next to me, putting her legs together and giving me a questioning look. "I don't see it as a job. It might have been back when I was in hell, but now I see it as a vocation. Do you know why I'm doing it, foolish human?"

"Please enlighten me." No matter how hard she stares me down I won't let her break my composure.

"A person who has not paid for their sins back on Earth is doomed to suffer being tortured for the rest of eternity in the fires of hell. Do you see it now? This is not some sick form of entertainment as it is in your case, but an act of mercy."

If I have to be completely honest, her eyes do manage to evoke my pent-up guilt. Thinking back, all those elaborate executions I performed, were nothing more than an act of selfish revenge against the world or even fate itself. All this time I was stuck in the past. The satisfaction I felt after dismembering my victims was just a temporary relief that made me feel like I was in control of something. A person's life. I thought the fact that they deserved a penalty was enough to make me feel like I wasn't doing all of this for myself, but that I served a higher purpose. I felt like the world needed me there to do my craft, but now I realize that I was just one of them. A small insignificant human with the illusions of grandeur, who thought he was better than everyone else. I'm disgusted by my actions. I went as far as to kill my own mother in order to start anew. It was always about me.

"Tell me demon," I ask, staring at death herself in the eye. "Now that I am at your mercy, what will you do with me? Are you going to purify my soul and send me to heaven?"

"No," she furrows her eyebrows. "That's too good for you. I have better plans." Rin slowly rises, her eyes growing darker like two black holes in preparation to swallow me. Two sets of needle-sharp teeth glisten behind her velvet lips. As her mouth contorts in a crooked smile, the edges of it grow wider, reaching to her cheekbones. I see the majestic, delicate flower of a woman transform into a horrendous beast before me. Would it be perverse to say that even in this hellish metamorphosis I still found her inciting? She possessed the serene and unique beauty of a Beksiński painting. There was a part of me that felt honored to meet my end in the hands of such a magnificent creature.

AN// Hey, thank you for reading this far! Please leave a comment, telling me what you think about the ending. I'll publish the epilogue as soon as I get the chance to edit it.