"Are you sure this is going to work?" mumbled Sophie, unconvinced that my antics were going to get me anywhere.

"Of course it's going to work," I replied, violently jamming the incubus' left wing in the hole I had just dug, "It says it right here," I dug out the book from my pocket and opened it to where I had placed a page-maker; an old drug-store receipt for mouthwash and tampons that I had kept far too long. "'To properly kill an Incubus, you must first bury the body in a pit of smoke and ashes. Then, you must cover the area around the hole with lemon juice and sage'."

Sophie pointed the flashlight at me and I squinted. "Let me see that," she said.

I handed her the book and wiped my brow, looking around us to make sure we were still alone. People rarely ever came in this neck of the woods, but one could never be sure.

When she was done, she started scribbling something in her notebook before I yanked it out of her hands.

"Enough of that," I said impatiently, tucking it in my bag and pulling out two packs of cigarettes. "Now get smoking." I threw a pack at her and pulled out a lighter from my bag pocket.

"What?" she screeched, "No!"

"Sophie, come on. It says to bury it in a pit of smoke and ashes."

She stood up from the tree she had been leaning on and started flailing her arms about her, sending a few cigarettes flying out of their carton.

"I'm not getting lung cancer for that thing!"

I rolled my eyes, popping one in my mouth and lighting it with my gun-shaped lighter. "Fine, I'll just do all the work."

"I can do the lemon juice and sage thing," she offered.

I eyed her through the smoke cloud of my cigarette, dropping some of the ashes on top of the lifeless Incubus.

"It's all in there," I pointed to the grocery bags laying on the ground in a heap.

She rummaged through them, pulling out the contents one item at a time. When she was finally done, she turned back to me with a grimace.

"This is lemonade and chicken seasoning," she said.

"It's sage chicken seasoning," I pointed to the lemonade bottles, "And it says these are made from 100% real juice."

She shook her head, getting up from where she was, "You're unbelievable."

I dropped more ashes in the pit, followed by the butt of my cigarette. "No one asked you to tag along, you know."

She scrunched her nose, waving some of the smoke away from her face. "I just thought you could use a friend."

I looked her up and down. With her baby-blond hair braided on the side her neck and blue-jean overalls over a striped yellow and white t-shirt, I wondered how exactly it was possible for her to want to spend her Saturday night burying murderous creatures with a girl she had barely just met. I wondered what she saw in me. Granted, she was the most socially awkward person I had ever met, but why did she want to be my friend?

"Why?" I blurt.

"I just think you look lonely, and everybody deserves a friend."

***

Aching. Hollowness.

I lean into the tree near my house, pushing my palms into my eyes as the tears continue to pour out uncontrollably.

Because Sophie is gone, and it's all your fault.

She did not deserve any of it. She paid for my mistakes and that is not even enough to right my wrongs. I have killed so many. So often. Never thinking of the consequences. Never thinking of the people they left behind. Innocents. People who had families and friends.

Oh god, the amount of people I have hurt. I am a monster.

The guilt eats me, gnawing at my insides until all that is left behind is a gaping hole, empty and void of anything worth living for. I am here, alive while all these people, including Sophie, have died because of me.

I wish I could back to that night where she met me. I wish I could go back to the time she told me she wanted to be my friend. I wish I could go back and tell her to stay away. That I was not worth it. That I was not worth her love and compassion. Sophie had the biggest heart. She pretended to interview me for school, but I always knew she was doing it to help me, so I would open up to someone. Have someone to talk to.

She put up with my bullshit, never judging me. I was a damn murderer and she still saw the good in me.

Then, she fell in love for the first time. I can still see her all happy and giddy over it, while the entire time she was was taken advantage of by a vampire. Because of me.

Fuck, Soph. If only I could go back.

I open my eyes to see Maleficent sauntering out of the shadows and over to me. She looks at me and sniffs.

"Hey," I whisper shakily through my silent sobs.

To my surprise, she does not run away or try to swat me. She takes a few more steps and lays down beside my legs, closing her eyes and purring soothingly. I would pet her, but I think she might bite me, so I decide to just stay still, watching her back move up and down with each small breath she takes.

Looking into the distance through tear-filled eyes, I realize what I must do. To avenge Sophie. To avenge all of those people. And it starts with the vampire.

I pull out the platinum card from my jacket pocket and start ripping it slowly. The moonlight catches each of the small pieces as they fall to the ground like glittery sparkles.

The atmosphere around us shifts, followed by lightning that cracks in the air in front of me. Lucifer appears in a flash of black.

There is no more going back. No more running away, no more ignoring my shit. Sophie deserves it. All the ones I have killed deserve it.

I will avenge her. Tonight, I will face my demons, starting with Alicia.

Lucifer cocks his head at me, "Long time no see."

I stand up, wiping my pants with the back of my hands. "I need your help."

He takes in my appearance and I wipe my tear-stained cheeks subconsciously. His icy blue eyes gleam under the moon as they look around us, "Where's my brother? I'm not very good at this crying shit," he says sounding almost apologetic.

"It's you I need," I say.

"If that came from any other woman, I would be ecstatic."

I ignore his banter. "I want to make a deal."

He takes a step forward, pursing his lips. "A deal with the devil? And here I was, thinking you were one of the smart ones," he tsks.

I sniff and wipe my eyes briskly with shaking hands. I can do this. When I look back up, he stands a few inches away from me and circles his arms around me stiffly. I am stunned in place, not too sure what to do. It feels weird. I think this might be Lucifer's first hug and he is not very good at it.

He clears his throat a few times and pulls away from me. "There," he taps my head, "all better."

I frown at him. Maleficent starts rubbing herself on his leg.

"Cute badger," he says, looking down at her.

"It's a skunk, but thank's," I take a step away from him, "As I was saying, I want to make a deal."

He gazes back at me, eyes pensive. He is having an internal debate, I can tell.

"May I?" he gestures to my head and lifts his palms on either side of it, "I need to see your real intentions first."

I nod and let him press his fingers on each of my temples. My eyes close involuntarily as I feel a presence begin to invade my mind. It is subtle at first, brushing into the confines of my subconscious as though searching for something. Then, the presence becomes more prominent, pushing against the walls of my memories, my feelings, my thoughts until it finds what it is looking for. I feel dizzy and lightheaded, like my legs will give out any moment. I steady myself my bringing my hands to Lucifer's shoulders. He stay immobile, no doubt concentrated on what he is doing.

If you told me two months ago that I would be willingly letting the Devil in my head, I would have dragged you to the nearest mental health clinic.

He pulls away and I regain my senses all at once. I blink my eyes open and stare back into cold, serious eyes. He narrows them at me, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Azrael will never let you do this."

"This isn't about him," I shake my head. "And that's also why I need your help."

He grinds his teeth, looking downwards. His hands settle on his hips and turns away from me, bringing his gaze back up at the moon. He starts fidgeting. Raking his hands through his hair.

Lucifer looks frazzled.

"Do I wanna do this?" he mumbles to himself.

I lay a hand on his shoulder, "Please," I plead softly, "I need to do this my way."

He turns to me with an unreadable expression, which says a lot for someone who is always either frowning, winking or smirking. He know this is serious.

Finally, with a long a sigh, he says, "I accept your deal."

____________