♦

Lilith reclined on the couch, her younger sister lounging beside her, both settled in their respective realms. As boredom glazed Lilith's eyes, the television screen flickered with a dull glow. Beside her, the rhythmic dance of a colored pencil against paper painted a symphony of creativity—a soundtrack that harmonized with the sound of rain striking the windowpanes, an elemental melody that seemed almost designed to lull her to sleep.

However, the serenity was interrupted by the clarion call of their mother, Donna, a voice that cut through the domestic cocoon.

"Girls, dinner!" The directive, while commanding, held a note of familial warmth that mitigated any semblance of sternness.

"Coming," both voices chimed in unison as they extricated themselves from their lounging positions, mobilizing their anticipation-laden appetites.

As Lilith entered the kitchen, her senses were greeted by a tantalizing aroma, a prelude to the culinary delights awaiting them. Lilith settled into her usual seat, positioned across from Nyx. Donna's hands deftly cradled two meticulously prepared plates, placing them in front of her children.

A tender and appreciative smile graced Lilith's lips as she directed her gratitude towards her mother. Donna's response was a reciprocal smile, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond between mother and daughter.

Nyx tried to take a bite of food but was gently reprimanded by her mother, reminding her of the customs inspired in their shared faith.

In sync with the rhythm of tradition, Nyx extended her hands, bridging the gap between the physical and the ethereal, a connection that held sacred significance. Lilith mirrored her actions, forming a trinity, a channel through which their familial devotion flowed.

A maternal glance, laden with significance, was cast towards her youngest—an invitation to lead the sacred supplication. She embraced the moment, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the encompassing darkness, a canvas for her heartfelt words.

"Our Dark Lord, who art in hell, honored be thy name," Nyx began her voice an instrument of devotion. The words carried the weight of tradition, a sense of personal connection. "I thank you for each gift you have bestowed upon me and my family," she continued, the syllables weaving a tapestry of gratitude, intricate and profound.

In the embrace of the prayer, Nyx's voice reverberated with a resonance that transcended the tangible, a bridge between the earthly and the otherworldly. "Guide us unto yourself. May we be forever grasped in your mighty wings," she concluded, invoking a sense of unity with the sublime forces that shaped their lives.

"Nema," the three voices intoned in perfect harmony, a shared incantation that signaled the commencement of their meal.

Lilith's eighteenth birthday was a harbinger of transformation, a fact that Donna embraced with an enthusiasm that practically made her burst from the seams. As fork and knife met food, Donna's excitement was palpable. 

"You're eighteen today, Lili. Do you know what that means?" Donna inquired, her tone tinged with an effervescent glow.

Lilith, ever the master of wit, responded with a sardonic grin, her words a playful dance. "That I'm one step closer to death?" 

But Donna was determined, undeterred by her daughter's sarcasm. "No, you're finally old enough for your first Black Mass!" Her prideful declaration is a testament to a rite of passage within their household. "I actually talked to Hannah, she pulled some strings so you can cut the line."

"That's unusually nice of her," Lilith stated, pushing around the food on her plate. 

"What? No invite?" Nyx's voice emerged, her words carrying a playful tone woven with a hint of offence.

Donna, the embodiment of maternal wisdom, responded with a tender understanding, "Eventually," she reassured, her gaze imbued with a comforting warmth. "You've only got two more years."

"I didn't realize there was an age requirement for selling your soul." With a teasing tilt of her head, a mischievous glint in Nyx's eyes reflected her audacious spirit as she brought a bite of food to her lips.

Lilith pressed further, curiosity getting the best of her. "So, what should I expect?"

Donna's hands danced in the air, a mimicry of her attempt to explain the unexplainable. "Think of it as... an initiation," she elucidated. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"When?" Lilith inquired, mirroring her mother's excitement as best she could with the desire to please.

Donna's grin was unfaltering. "That's the best part—it's tonight!" Her statement imbued an infectious cheerfulness. "How perfect is that?"

Amidst the banter and laughter, Lilith experienced a moment of introspection. The silence, though brief, became an abyss within which her thoughts unfurled. The forthcoming initiation cast its shadow, a cloak that whispered of transformation and rebirth.

An undertone of uncertainty tugged at her thoughts. Her devotion, once unwavering, now filled with doubt—a quiet questioning that grew as she got older. The faith that had been instilled in her by her mother now rested on foundations of ambiguity. Lilith grappled with belief and reason. 

The concept of a higher power now appeared to be a construct designed to ease the anxieties of human existence. In her mind, she ventured beyond the realm of faith and found herself in a space where the boundaries of belief blurred. The heavens and hells seemed intangible.

Despite her doubts, Lilith's actions mirrored her upbringing. Each day, she wore the mask of a believer, offering praise to a deity whose existence she wasn't exactly sure of. Devotion and doubt coexisted within her, a division that defined her existence.

♦

Lilith found herself seated in front of her vanity, watching the meticulous work of her mother's hands as they coaxed her hair around a curling iron. Donna ensured every detail was perfect for her daughter's debut into a new phase of her life.

"The robe will cover it, but I bought the perfect dress for you," Donna chimed, her gaze alternating between her daughter and the black and red plaid dress thoughtfully laid out on the bed. Her excitement was evident as she continued her hairstyling.

As she watched her reflection in the mirror, she observed her hair transformed into elegant curls, a delicate transformation overseen by her mother's hands. Her face became a canvas, subtly adorned with makeup guided by Donna's experienced touch.

Donna's gaze lingered with pride as she gazed upon her handiwork, her reflection adorned with an affectionate smile. The final touch, a vibrant red lipstick, lent a boldness to Lilith's appearance, a testament to her transformation into an entity that transcended her everyday self. Her mother's hand caressed her cheek. Lilith basked in the warmth of maternal love, a sentiment that reverberated in the depths of her being.

"So, have you thought about what you're gonna ask from him?" Donna's question hung in the air, pregnant with curiosity and a motherly eagerness to witness her daughter's connection with their enigmatic lord. Her voice carried a sense of anticipation as if she were eager for Lilith to experience firsthand the boundless possibilities of their devotion.

"I don't know what I want." Lilith's contemplative response came with a slight pursing of her lips, a sign of her internal musings. She felt uncertain because she couldn't believe their otherworldly patron could grant her desires. While her mother's wealth and status were impressive, it seemed inadequate to sway the cosmic forces at play.

"He knows, no need to worry," Donna reassured. Her smile was tender and knowing as she regarded her daughter's reflection in the mirror. Her words held a comforting assurance with a motherly confidence.

Donna moved behind Lilith, her reassuring hands on her daughter's shoulders. The shared reflection in the mirror showcased a young woman transformed, exuding an aura of confidence and beauty. Donna's words carried an affirmation that transcended the physical —Lilith was indeed beautiful, but the sentiment went beyond the surface, embodying the depths of a mother's adoration.

Donna's eyes widened as a sudden realization struck her. "Oh! I almost forgot." Stepping away from her daughter, Donna crossed the room to her dresser, retrieving a small black box adorned with a red bow. "Your grandma got this for you." She handed the box to Lilith, who eyed it curiously before lifting the lid. Inside, she discovered a necklace bearing the Sigil of Baphomet.

"She's sorry she couldn't make it but assured me she'll be here to help with your coming-of-age ritual. The Dark Lord knows she wouldn't miss that for the world."

Lilith's eyes flicked up to her mother's reflection, a heightened sense of unease settling within her at the mention of the ritual. She quickly shifted her attention to the necklace, lifting it from the box and holding it to the light.

"Here." Donna offered, taking the necklace from her daughter's nimble fingers. Lilith lifted her hair to facilitate her mother's task, allowing Donna to clasp it around her neck.

The entrance of Nyx introduced a shift in the atmosphere. Her presence, while unannounced, was a disruption that manifested with a sense of urgency. 

Lilith extended an affectionate hand, drawing her sister closer as concern etched her features. "What's up?" she inquired, her voice filled with worry.

"He's going to be there tonight. I saw it." Nyx's response stemmed from a perception that diverged from their reality, her gaze reflecting an understanding that seemed beyond her years.

A shared look sought guidance between mother and elder sister, but Donna's shrug suggested they were both as uncertain as Nyx's revelation was clear. The concept of Nyx's visions wasn't foreign to them, but this prophecy was shrouded in mystery.

"Huh?" Lilith sought clarity, her voice a conduit for her confusion.

"The Beast." Nyx continued, her words full of trepidation. Lilith turned to her mother for clarification, a quest for understanding that yielded only a shrug. The revelation of the arrival of the supposed son of Lucifer was news to both of them.

Donna's scoff carried a note of certainty, an assurance that seemed incongruent with Nyx's vision. "Honey, I believe I would know if the Antichrist was attending our church," she retorted, her conviction unwavering.

Nyx's resolve remained steadfast. Her eyes conveyed a determination to stand by her vision. 

Donna smiled at her youngest daughter, "I promise you, wherever he is... that the end times are coming soon."

♦

Lilith delicately held up the dress her mother had envisioned for her, admiring the fabric's elegance before carefully slipping it off the hanger. As she attempted to pull the dress up her body, her fingers struggled to reach the elusive zipper. 

A rustle of maroon hair caught her attention, and she called out to her sister in a voice tinted with need. "Hey, Nyx? Can you come help me with this?"

Responding to her sister's plea, Nyx entered the room, her sketchbook finding a temporary home on the desk near the door. She moved behind Lilith, deftly grasped the zipper, and pulled it up to secure the dress.

"You look pretty," Nyx stated, her words carrying a genuine admiration as she took in her older sister's transformed appearance. The dress was like a second skin and traced the contours of Lilith's body, accentuating her natural beauty.

Lilith turned to look at her reflection in the full-length mirror, her fingers gently brushing the fabric that draped her figure. The dress's embrace, a tactile affirmation of her mother's vision, evoked confidence and gratitude. "Thanks," she responded, her voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

Nyx's perceptive eye caught a nuance, a subtle something that could elevate Lilith's ensemble. With a thoughtful expression, Nyx stepped forward, selecting a black choker from her sister's jewelry collection. She went behind Lilith, securing it around her neck with deft fingers. The choker softly pressed against Lilith's skin, its darkness contrasting with her complexion.

Lilith regarded her reflection in the mirror, her fingers delicately tracing the contours of the necklace she wore below it. She understood the necklace's significance, yet its sigil now reflected her wavering commitment.

Her eyes drifted to the nearby sketchpad, and curiosity gripped her as she saw a drawing of a striking man, a figure she could only assume Nyx associated with the Antichrist. She also noticed Nyx had sketched another figure beside him. 

"Who's this?" Lilith inquired, her voice tinged with intrigue.

"I don't know," Nyx replied with a nonchalant shrug, her attention momentarily drawn away from her art as her sister picked up the sketchpad. "They were together in my vision."

With a touch of wonder, Lilith's fingers grazed the paper's surface, her imagination caught in the possibility of her sister's visions manifesting into reality.

Nyx, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions, turned to face her sister. A bittersweet smile graced her lips as she nudged Lilith gently, a subtle expression of affection that conveyed more than words could. "Happy Birthday, Lili." she managed to say, her voice carrying a genuine warmth that resonated with sisterly love.

Lilith's features brightened at the gesture, the corners of her lips curling into a grateful smile. She carefully set the sketchbook aside and shifted her attention to her sister.

With a gesture that spoke volumes, Lilith reached out to envelope Nyx in a heartfelt embrace. The warmth of their connection radiated through the simple contact, a silent affirmation of their sisterhood.

♦

Lilith settled beside her mother, draped in her crimson robe, as her attention fixed on the charismatic satanic minister, Hannah, who delivered a fiery speech from her position down the aisle.

"Listen the fuck up, people. Just because we had a president who was a total douchenozzle and global warming was getting worse, that didn't mean you could sit on your lazy asses and holler out a few 'Hail Satan's.' You thought the end-times would show up like a herpes sore?" Hannah's passionate words reverberated throughout the room. 

Lilith crossed her arms; if she was being honest, she had anticipated something more from the Black Mass. So far, it felt like any other day she had spent in church.

"So tired of preaching to the goddamn choir. What weren't you getting? You knew the drill," Hannah continued, her expressive gestures adding weight to her message.

As Lilith observed, something caught her peripheral vision, prompting her gaze to shift towards the back of the church. Two men—one blonde and one brunette—made their entrance. Their disheveled appearances and exhaustion etched onto their features hinted at an arduous journey. A realization struck Lilith like a lightning bolt, recognizing the energy that radiated from them. Yet, both different from each other, they held a certain allure that somehow drew her.

Returning her attention to the front, Lilith refocused on Hannah's words. "The Antichrist's gonna ride in here on a wave of sin, and all we have is a weak piss dribble." 

Lilith tried to focus on the minister's message, but the two men settling down on her bench were distracting. An unusual magnetism surrounded them, diverting her thoughts from the sermon. They seemed to embody the sketches her sister had brought to life. The resemblance was uncanny, as if they had stepped out of the pages and into her reality.

"Someone, please help me out," Hannah implored, her frustration evident. "I need to hear some sins. I need to feel like we're making way for him."

The minister's gaze fixed on a random person in the congregation, demanding their sins. As confessions were voiced—a theft of a hundred dollars, an affair with a wife's sister—Lilith's attention remained on the two men. Their eyes met hers briefly, causing a cold chill up her spine. She quickly averted her gaze, unable to shake the connection she felt.

"I've seen bad facelifts that are more evil than you," Hannah scoffed, clearly unimpressed with the confessions. She paced the floor in frustration. "You want to know what I did this week? You want to be inspired? You want to know how I'm helping the end of times?" 

Lilith's curiosity piqued as Hannah's words veered into a supposed darker territory. The minister's revelation of robbing a nursing home and donating the money to the NRA caused Lilith's eyes to roll.

Hannah's attempts to invigorate the crowd fell flat. "Okay. Whatever. Let's speak in tongues for a hot sec and show some respect," Hannah resigned. 

The ritualistic chanting commenced, and Lilith's mother collected donations, motioning for Lilith to take them to the two men beside her. However, Lilith hesitated, not wanting to disturb them. In response, Donna took the lead and approached them.

"We don't have any money right now," the tear-streaked blonde man admitted.

Donna's smile wavered, concern evident as she surveyed their appearance. "Or any food from the looks of it." After handing the donations to the person in front of her, she turned her attention back to both men, who appeared uneasy. "How long has it been since you both ate?"

The blonde man exhaled, his gaze averting as he slumped in his seat. "What's it to you?"

"Michael, be courteous," the brunette man chided.

"It's okay. Just trying to help out fellow believers," Donna reassured, the room enveloped in a brief silence. "After the service, I wouldn't mind fixing you two up with something to eat, and there's plenty of room in my home if you need a place to stay."

"Momma," Lilith interjected, voicing her disagreement in a hushed but audible whisper. Donna waved off her daughter's concerns, prompting Lilith to cross her arms in mild protest. 

"That's actually really nice of you," Michael responded with gratitude, his hunger evident in his eyes.

"What can I say?" Donna shrugged, smiling. "Nobody's perfect." The moment of silence lingered before she turned her attention to Michael. "So, Michael, correct?" Michael nodded, a look of gratefulness directed at her. She gestured to the brunette man beside him. "And what's your name?"

"Josiah." Josiah extended his hand, offering a warm shake. "His brother. And your name?"

"Donna." Donna reciprocated the handshake, her voice warm and friendly. She motioned to her daughter. "This is my daughter, Lilith."

Following the instructions, Lilith moved closer to introduce herself. Despite her unease, she managed a forced smile and waved in greeting.

A commanding call from Hannah diverted the room's attention, breaking the conversation. "Lilith Morgan! Come up here, girl!"

The sudden spotlight on her triggered a surge of anxiety. "You got this," Donna reassured her with a thumbs-up. 

Lilith's gaze shifted between her mother and the two men next to her before she squeezed past them and made her way up the aisle.

"Today is Lilith's eighteenth birthday. An important day in one's life to connect with our father, Lucifer!" Hannah proclaimed, drawing cheers from the congregation. 

Lilith stood beside Hannah wondering what was in store for her.

Hannah turned her attention to Lilith, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ready to show your devotion?"

After a brief hesitation, Lilith nodded. Hannah shifted away from her before issuing a command. "Bring her out!"

Lilith's heart raced in her chest as she watched the congregation rise, their red hoods obscuring their faces. Gradually, a woman clad only in her underwear and a red hood emerged. They had taped her mouth shut, blindfolded her, and guided her down the aisle to kneel between Hannah and Lilith.

"This is Leticia," Hannah announced. "She's a social worker who has dedicated her entire life to easing the suffering of the less fortunate. Bitch, please." Hannah was handed a knife and then turned toward Lilith. "The honor of today's killing goes to our newest member—Lilith!"

Lilith blinked, her breath catching as her throat tightened. Did they expect her to kill someone? She felt utterly shaken; even though she should have anticipated something like this, the reality of the situation was unsettling.

Trembling, she took the knife from Hannah's outstretched hand, aware of the weight of everyone's gaze upon her. Seeking guidance, she glanced at her mother. Donna's encouraging smile imparted a sense of purpose to Lilith. She had to do this to earn the favor of the Day Star, to serve his cause. But was it truly worth taking a life when she wasn't even sure if he was real?

Her eyes shifted to Michael, who wore an expression of awe as he looked at her. A sense of connection seemed to pass between them. On the other hand, Josiah sat emotionless, slumped in his seat. Lilith felt trapped as if she had no choice but to carry out this gruesome act. She wondered if they might kill her if she refused.

With trembling steps, Lilith approached Leticia, who trembled with fear. Lilith placed a hand on Leticia's shoulder to steady herself. The muffled pleas and cries of the girl filled the air, and Lilith hesitated, tears filling her eyes as she grappled with her emotions. 

She reached around from behind and slid the knife across Leticia's throat. A gruesome gush of blood splattered across Lilith's face as Leticia fell back into her. A copious amount of blood spurted from the wound, drenching them both. Leticia struggled, gasping and choking on her blood.

Lilith released the girl, allowing her to collapse to the floor with a thud. A heavy silence descended upon the room as Lilith tried to process the enormity of what she had just done. 

The cheers of the congregation echoed in the background, a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. Overwhelmed by guilt and confusion, Lilith confronted an unsettling truth: as terrifying as this ordeal was, a disturbing part of her found an inexplicable satisfaction.

♦

Lilith stepped into her bathroom, her once-pristine appearance now marred by the blood of her first kill. Conflicting emotions swarmed within as guilt and a strange sense of satisfaction battled for dominance. She attempted to suppress the fact that a part of her had taken pleasure in the act. As she stared at her blood-soaked self, she found herself fighting with the darkness that had emerged.

She urgently washed her hands, tears mixing with the water as she desperately tried to cleanse herself of the evidence. Yet, it became apparent that the sink wouldn't suffice in ridding her of all the blood. With a huff of frustration, she moved towards the shower, turning it on and letting her crimson robe slip from her body, the blood-soaked dress that clung to her skin joining it when she cast it aside. She stood there, vulnerable and exposed, shedding the remnants of her actions along with her underwear, and stepped into the shower.

The warm water cascaded over her, and she closed her eyes, allowing it to consume her in its flow. The red hue of the water as it carried away the blood mirrored the conflicting emotions within her.

Emerging from the shower, she enveloped herself in towels, carefully drying her body and hair. She then entered her room, choosing fresh clothes and donning them to regain some semblance of normalcy. A moment alone allowed her to gather herself, her thoughts churning as she tried to process.

Finally, she exited her room, stepping into the hallway before entering the kitchen. Each step felt surreal, a stark reminder of the path she had willingly chosen. The weight of her actions was heavy, casting a shadow over her every move.

As Lilith stepped into the kitchen, three pairs of eyes immediately fixed upon her. Her mother rose from her seat and enfolded her daughter in a warm embrace. "I'm so proud of you. You were perfect," her mother's voice resonated with genuine admiration.

Lilith surrendered herself to her mother's comforting embrace, basking in the solace and encouragement provided by it. Yet, a tinge of uncertainty lingered within her—was she even deserving of praise? Gently, her mother withdrew, tenderly caressing Lilith's cheek before gesturing for her to join their small gathering at the table.

With a subtle hesitation, Lilith settled into an open seat opposite the two enigmatic men from the church. Although Josiah and Michael were absorbed in their meals, their watchful eyes hinted at a deeper engagement.

As Josiah and Michael savored their food, Lilith's mother turned her attention toward her. "So, how was it? How did it feel?"

Donna's query prompted Michael to momentarily raise his head, casting a curious glance toward Lilith. Josiah, on the other hand, maintained an inscrutable expression. 

Surveying the room, Lilith searched for the right words. "It was... revitalizing, Mom. All in the service of pleasing him."

A smile blossomed on Donna's lips, but Lilith suspected her answer might reflect a desire to meet her mother's expectations. 

Donna then shifted her gaze to encompass Michael and Josiah. "Now, gentlemen, what's your story? How did you end up at our beloved Satan's doorstep?"

Josiah's demeanor remained cryptic as he quietly savored his meal, his thoughts hidden behind a veil of obscurity.

Meanwhile, Michael broke the silence by raising his head, his gaze directed towards Donna. His words carried a weight of past pain and bitterness. 

"My father abandoned me... then our mother tried to kill me." Despite the gravity of his revelation, Michael mustered a faint smile, a brittle facade masking the complexities of his emotions.

A pang of sympathy stirred within Lilith as she observed her mother retrieve a cigarette and light it. Donna's retort was as dark as the subject at hand. "Humanity is a cesspool of shit. This world is a swirling vortex of sin and chaos, which is why Satanism represents the future. We need individuals like yourselves—bright, eager minds to carry forth the message of Lucifer. Here's the thing: once you embrace the fact that we're degenerate beings, you'll find freedom."

Donna took a drag from her cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Satanism is about surrendering to your impulses, embracing sin, embracing your true essence. I gave my soul to the Devil, and he gave me everything I ever wanted."

Lilith's demeanor shifted in her seat. She glanced toward Josiah, who remained unfazed by the conversation, then flicked her gaze to her Michael. 

"You sold your soul?" Michael inquired, his tone tinged with skepticism. "Did you sign your name in blood?"

"My pact was made during a Black Mass, as is the tradition through sacrifice. And by sacrifice, I mean killing—it's effective. You're looking at the living proof," Donna motioned expansively. "I offered up my soul, and in return, I gained all of this. My beautiful daughters, wealth beyond measure."

"And that's worth it to you?" Josiah interjected, his tone laced with indifference. "Killing for personal gain?"

Josiah's inquiry struck a chord within Lilith. Her internal struggle intensified, grappling with the unsettling realization that she had strayed from the path of her own beliefs. She had once believed in her own goodness, in the possibility of diverging from her mother's path. Yet, the darkness had insidiously entwined itself around her, pulling her back onto a journey she wasn't sure she truly wanted to be on.

Donna shifted her attention toward Josiah, the cigarette dangling between her fingers. "Without a doubt."

"So, that's all it is then?" Michael's disappointment colored his words as he polished off his meal. "Satan is a carnal pleasure."

Donna stifled a chuckle. "No, not at all. We have a greater purpose. We're propelling ourselves toward the threshold of the end. Our redeemer is on the horizon. The offspring of Satan will guide us, ushering in the final days. We only need to cause enough chaos for his ascent. We represent the contaminated soil from which he will bloom, shrouding us in eternal darkness so we may stride alongside Satan in eternal flames."

Lilith sighed at her mother's passion, noticing Michael leaning forward, ready to speak. 

"I hate to break it to you... but you're waiting in vain."

Donna, bristled in offense, rose from her seat. "You have no idea what you're talking about." 

Michael's response was delivered with a casual sing-song quality, seemingly unimpressed by the tension in the room. "I'm the one you've been waiting for." The words hung in the air, a bold assertion that cut through the atmosphere like a blade.

"How dare you!" Donna's voice surged with outrage as she seized a knife, positioning herself behind Michael and placing the blade at his throat.

Lilith rose from her seat, a sense of urgency coursing through. Josiah observed with a smug expression, aware of his brother's hidden power. 

"Momma," Lilith reached out, attempting to alleviate her mother's escalating anger.

"Well, before you kill me, dear believer, see me," Michael's voice carried a calm authority, unyielding even with the knife pressed against his throat. 

Donna instinctively grasped his hair, angling his head to reveal a mark, a sign of the Devil etched into his flesh. Donna's grip faltered, the knife slipping from her fingers in shock. She crumpled to the floor, bowing in reverence.

"Hail Satan." Donna intoned a chant soon echoed by Lilith's younger sister as she entered the kitchen, her excitement apparent. 

"I knew it!"

"Nyx, go back to your room," Lilith cautioned, though her words fell on deaf ears as Nyx joined their mother on the floor, paying homage to their savior.

Michael leaned back, his posture suffused with a breath of relief. His gaze locked onto Lilith, a silent command to submit to him as well.

As Lilith met Michael's gaze, an abyss of darkness seemed to beckon her, a force attempting to draw her in. Yet, she resisted, tearing her eyes away and storming out of the kitchen, seeking solace within her room.

♦

Lilith lounged on the patio, occasionally bringing a cigarette to her lips. She let out a plume of smoke, staring into the void as thoughts of the night overwhelmed her. An uncomfortable sensation buzzed between her ribs, images of the blood on her hands leaving a stain on her consciousness. She rarely ever smoked, but tonight was an exception. Her gaze moved from the void of her thoughts to look up at the sky. Despite the light pollution of Los Angeles, she could see a few stars sparkling through.

Squinting her eyes, she noticed something unusual. Lilith rose from her seat, stepping further onto the lawn to get a better look. A murder of crows circled the sky directly above her home, her eyebrows knitting together with confusion. She took another puff of her cigarette as she watched them, tilting her head slightly and wracking her brain for any possible explanation.

The sound of the front door opening brought her back down to Earth. She turned her head toward the disruption, noticing her guest, Josiah, had stepped out onto the patio, letting a heavy breath escape. 

His eyes scanned his surroundings before eventually landing on Lilith. "Oh, hey, sorry. I didn't know you were out here. I hope I'm not intruding."

Lilith took a drag of her cigarette, glancing back up at the crows before settling back into her seat. "You're good, I don't mind." 

Josiah forced a smile, an awkward silence filling the midnight atmosphere.

Seconds passed before Josiah sat in the open chair opposite Lilith, motioning toward her hand. "May I?"

Lilith glanced down at her cigarette, nodded, then handed it to him. 

Josiah took a drag in a manner that indicated he was likely inexperienced. The smoke entered his lungs before attempting to fight a string of coughs. 

Lilith couldn't help but bite back a laugh as he eagerly handed it back to her.

"That bad, huh?" Lilith teased as Josiah tried to pull himself together.

"You have no idea," Josiah breathed out, leaning back in his chair. Lilith forced a smile, turning her gaze back onto the illuminated street. 

A moment of silence passed before Josiah's voice broke the quiet. "Hey, I hope it's not a burden us being here... I'm incredibly grateful."

Lilith let out a heavy breath, turning her head towards her guest and forcing a smile. "It's an adjustment, but I'm glad you're out of whatever situation you were in." Josiah returned her smile. Lilith contemplated her words, letting her curiosity get the best of her. "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."

Josiah took a moment to think before replying. "It's a long story, but... Michael lost someone important to him so we didn't have anywhere else to go... He was so lost, and he had this psychotic break trying to get in contact with his father," Josiah explained, keeping eye contact with Lilith as she put out her cigarette on the bottom of her shoe. "We were in the woods for days and then somehow got led here."

"You're a good brother," Lilith stated, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees. 

The corners of Josiah's mouth tinged with gratitude. 

The two sat in companionable silence, relishing the tranquility of the night. The rustling of the trees served as a soothing balm for both, creating a serene ambiance.

After a while, Josiah excused himself and headed indoors. Lilith lingered, allowing the night's calm to envelop her until her eyes began to droop with the onset of sleep. Eventually, she rose from her seat, guiding herself inside.

When she reached her bedroom door, an inexplicable force prompted her to glance toward the open guest bedroom door at the end of the hall. Uncertain of her actions, her feet guided her in that direction before peeking inside.

Lilith observed Michael's peaceful, sleeping form. He lay on his side, hands nestled under his cheek, breathing calmly. A sudden warmth enveloped her skin as she watched him. 

Despite her reservations about him—and she felt a hint of self-discomfort for acknowledging this—He has an undeniable, angelic beauty. It unsettled her that his aura seemed to call out to her, a sensation that both intrigued and frightened her.

Aware that her mother was well-versed in sin, Lilith was determined to shield herself from that world, even if its essence coursed through their veins. She yearned to preserve her innocence, ignorant of the looming darkness that threatened to engulf her.

Her mouth fell open, a gasp escaping her lips as she witnessed his eyes snap open. His icy gaze pierced into her widened eyes. Lilith's feet felt as if they were glued to the floor, though every instinct urged her to retreat. His intense stare, however, kept her rooted in place. 

She swallowed hard, tearing herself away from the door frame and hurrying into her bedroom. With the door firmly shut behind her, she leaned against it, exhaling a breath as she felt the residual echoes of her racing heartbeat.

♦