My human self was weak. 

He was a fool. We could have had everything if we worked together; we could have ruled the world like the false gods of old: high and mighty and trapped in their own decadent deception. 

And then we wouldn't have to live like this anymore. 

He was obsessed with freedom: it was all he craved for, all he really thought about in the dark, hidden depths of his mind that he hid away from everyone apart from me, the person he was forced to share himself with. I watched from afar as he slowly started to tear himself apart, warring with his demonic desires that we both knew he could not quite suppress. I looked at him with a disapproval that I didn't bother to hide. It was rare enough that I showed any emotion at all, so I wasn't going to cover it up. Whatever he tried to tell himself, I was still part of his soul and he knew it, so I wasn't going to submit to his idiotic morals. He started this inner war, but I wasn't ever going back down because I was winning. 

And I would always win. The story of real life was no fairy tale: it was common knowledge that those who embraced the powerful side of darkness achieved the success that others failed to come near to, and I was just another example of that. Screw over others before they screw over you, or you'll never get to the greatness I inhabited. 

It was a lesson my human half needed to learn, and learn quickly for that matter. I didn't want to believe it was too late for him; we could still have it all if we found a common purpose, a uniting goal.  

But a quick glance out of my window showed that perhaps I didn't need him at all: I was doing pretty well for myself anyway. 

My gaze fell over the Los Angeles skyline that was fading into the shadow of night, with its metal towers and burning city lights, blinking away for the humans who I had been trained to loathe and desensitise myself to. Appearances were deceptive as the man who stood here only a minute ago was completely different to the eyes who assessed the view of the dying daylight currently. He didn't have the smirk of arrogance I had now. 

And I had a right to be arrogant. I had everything I wanted: money, power and glory. No one dared to cross me; fellow demons feared me and no one challenged me for my power. I had earned my renown in Hell through blood and pain and even Satan himself admired my resilience.

I felt invincible: it was euphoric. This city was mine. 

And that was why I didn't understand. Didn't understand why my human half was so...unhappy. Like me, he had everything. I had worked hard for the both of us to get us into this envious place of power and respect, shredding every inch of human compassion to save us, and look where we were now: screw the humans, their trivial customs were nothing compared to this life of glory. This was true beauty. 

But he didn't see that. He didn't care about the sacrifice I had made and instead he just focused on the negative, using it to loathe me. But we both knew that he was also hating himself. We were, when it came down to it, the same person: sharing the same skin like a suit, except this time we didn't have a change of clothes. He would always be a Hybrid, he will never be able to escape his destiny. 

And what a destiny it was! This was the life! Living on top of the world, everything you could ever want in life all but a phone call away; the liquor; the drugs; the sex; the dark joys of the human world. All in one life where you stayed eternally young and handsome. It was a life some would kill for. 

And it was a life some did kill for. I know I did. 

Suddenly I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, bringing me away from the dark memories of my past. Checking my phone, I saw a text from Dev. 

Dev was someone I would have considered the closest guy to resembling what humans called a 'friend'. He was a lower-level demon who was my assistant down in Hell, but I saw him out of work a lot. He was good company, even my human half could tolerate him, and he was also very competent, making sure I missed nothing I needed to know. It was rare to get a work-related text from him, however, as the world was turning darker and darker by day and less power was needed to corrupt the minds of the weak. But this case was a strange anomaly: demanding I come down straight away. 

I couldn't help but feel slightly irritated. I wasn't in the mood to work, my ivory tower looked more inviting than ever, but I supposed my duties came before my comfort, so I prepared myself to shift. Shifting was an automatic power of any demon: it meant we could transport ourselves anywhere in Hell and Earth with the blink of an eye, only needing to focus our attention on a particular place to get there. Of course for lower-level demons with limited strength, shifting was not possible in locations protected by the power of the Holy Spirit, and even for demons like me, we couldn't exactly teleport into that place: we just had to get as close as possible. 

I may be a powerful foe, but there was none, not even Satan himself, who was more powerful than the Lord God. The Creator was an unstoppable force and one we demons feared and loathed the most. Maybe it was because of my human half, but for whatever reason, I only had respect for The Creator: because without him we wouldn't have any of this, and I wouldn't be living like I am now. 

But I knew he had no nice things to say about me. 

And I couldn't exactly blame him. 

Even God would have been hard pressed to ignore the unapologetic rivers of crimson that flowed freely from my calloused knuckles and palms, dripping heavily onto my arms; only becoming visible when I allowed myself to reflect on the things that I had done, the cost of my glory. 

And yet with the closing of my eyelids, the blood was no longer there. I felt myself fly away through worlds to visit the place where rivers of darkness became waterfalls of death, with any kind of guilt from before became nothing but mere memory.