XVI: The Answers?

I pace back and forth in the darkness, a recently acquired habit, it seems. The repetitive motion serves no purpose and yet, I cannot sit still. A powerful buzzing tingles underneath my flesh and every time I pace away from the boy, an overwhelming urge to move back washes over me. It has been this way since I laid eyes on him as a newborn and it has driven me mad every hour since. I couldn't understand then, and I passed it off as anticipation of adding a new soul to my collection. I watched him grow, my presence tinting every aspect of his life in misery, ruining all his happiness. His pain and his sadness were sweeter than any I have ever tasted. But why?

I stop moving for a second to examine him, maybe find my answer within the contours of his slumbering face but I see nothing. Nothing at all. The young soul's expression is smooth and peaceful, his black robe blending with the sheets, in his good hand, he clutches the crystal ball I gave him. His other hand is growing back, the shape of a hand almost visible now, instead of the chewed up hunk of meat it once was. One glance at his resting form and you'd never suspect he's sleeping on the devil's bed. But he is and even stranger still, I'm letting him.

What is it about Roxas, that makes him so different? Why is he here in my chambers, instead of turning into a decoration on my wall? The paleness of his flesh, the bright emotions that always swirl in his blue eyes, cannot be what makes me feel this way. And these feelings are a mystery on their own. I have not felt anything for a human since the dawn of time. They've helped me get my kicks, and their souls are quite the treat but it's never been more than that. They've never been anything but disposable.

It fills me with rage to not understand what's happening inside of me. I've always known my exact wishes and have done everything to fulfill my desires but I've never felt so...lost. It's not something the devil should be feeling. I clench my fists tightly as that urge to be at the blonde's side makes me take a few steps back in his direction. Could he be what I've been searching for, all these eras? Could it have been something as simple as a sad, hopeless human soul?


I've collected millions of souls and they've never been anything different. They'll come into hell and disappear, some demon taking care of them for their eternal stay and it pleases me like that. The moaning, twisted forms of souls I've claimed, protruding from the walls, make me feel good. Walking around during my rounds, and seeing all them begging me for relief, makes me feel so powerful and I have to do nothing but soak in it.

I only have to give them something once, something they won't even enjoy and they're mine for eternity. You wouldn't believe the idiotic things people sell their souls for. Their pathetic minds cannot wrap around what a 'soul' exactly is and how long eternity can be. A soul is not some currency used to get into heaven when they die. In fact, once their human bodies die, it is their souls that live on and continue through the ages. The ones that do not stay in heaven for their eternal paradise, start all over again somewhere else, in a different body, and all the others that do not come to me, stay trapped on earth.

Their souls are their very essence, what makes them who they are and forever shall be. Godly guitar skills, talented hands to paint a masterpiece, fame and fortune, (and my personal favorite) good health. Pffft. None of that will matter once I collect their soul. It stops whatever other lives the could have lived, whatever heaven they could have enjoyed, kills every chance of anything but hell.

The collection of souls has always been routine for me, easy. It's like this, people get their things on lease. After all, I'm a flexible guy. For example, Roxas' dear father. What he wanted was success. To have money and be successful in all things in his life. That time he calls a crazy year in University, is what led to his pact with me. He was a selfish, greedy man even in his youth. Offering the soul of his first born son instead of his own.

Little does he know his own time approaches. I don't always have to keep my word and take a single soul, after I've made a deal. It's not like anyone can read the fine print on our agreements. But I can wait for him. There's no hurry to have one more Lawyer in hell. I hate having to do more work than necessary anyway. Though if that's true, why did I have to rush Roxas' death? I had already claimed his soul as mine, his father had agreed to give me his second child, after begging me to spare Sora, his precious first born.

I had been merciful then, and waited...but I do not know why. I could have just taken Sora, that had been the deal. When the time came for me to collect the boy, I didn't. The father's begging didn't move me at all, the sobbing and blubbering made me laugh and yet, I agreed to leave Sora. I left the family for a few years, only to return and find the blonde baby, his soul calling me to him. I had known then, I had to have him, that child had to be mine but this was a desperate need I had never felt before.

My entire existence, I've known there was something on earth that belonged to me, something I'd been robbed of and left to search in vain for. After so long, I had decided to forget it. I have all of eternity to find what I'm missing and I would eventually get it but it was hard. This hollowness, the knowledge that something wasn't as it should be, drives me insane. I wonder from time to time, if maybe that thing is Roxas' soul but it can't be. I have him, he is mine and yet, these damn feelings continue. That Old Bastard in the clouds refuses to tell me, no matter how many times I've threatened to destroy everything in my search. He just watches me, knowing exactly what it is that I need to be complete, to have full power over the earth.

I stand still for a moment, and contemplate what to do. It's then that I decide to pay another visit to my old friend.

My skin burns, my insides churn painfully as my wings begin to tear out of my skin, breaking through my clothing and fluttering out behind me. I stare at the black feathers, hating their ragged, greasy appearance, the smell of brimstone and ash heavy all around me but while I'm up here, there is nothing I can do. I was after all, an angel from the beginning and these had once been pleasant. Now they hurt and are too heavy, not to mention absolutely grotesque.

I take quick, hurried steps, the holy souls around me scatter and hide behind the stringy clouds. The stupid white fluff dances around my shoes, curling into my hair and robes. The frigid air suffocates me, parts of my body begin to slowly freeze, making my movements sluggish. There is nothing I want more than to plummet back into Hell and curl up in my bed, put to sleep by the sound of everyone's suffering.

I reach the large, golden doors and stare at them, the presence of another being brings my eyes to the side and I spot a small child, clutching a doll, watching me. "Axel," She speaks with the voice of an adult and I snarl at her. Fucking freaks, the lot of them. They come up here, and live out eternity as they wish and some, prefer to spend it as children.

"Go back to your wretched paradise," I growl around my teeth and the tiny angel just watches me, her fingers curling over the top of her doll's pretty curls.

"Perhaps you're so bitter because you've been denied yours for all time," Her large eyes are nothing but kindness but I know there is evil inside each and every one of these creatures. God claims to have made everything perfect, His divine creation, but there is nothing divine about man. Filthy, stupid things is what they are.

I stop myself before I can take a step towards her, words prickle my tongue but I decide not to waste my time on such nonsense. I came with a purpose and I intend to finally know my answer. The golden doors open for me, clouds slowly swirling out and caressing my skin. I shiver in disgust and march straight inside, only to find Him, standing where He usually is, looking down at His little minions on earth.

"They are not minions," His voice surrounds me, fills my head and makes it pound with His power. That power I crave and want so desperately. I've become almost as powerful over the years, and yet, I still cannot over come Him. I know there is a way, I just haven't found it yet.

"I don't really give a fuck," I hiss, lifting my hood to cover myself from the bitter cold. "You know why I'm here," I continue, no longer bothering with formalities and false friendliness. I've tried to ask Him to tell me, in the nicest ways possible, why Roxas' soul has this effect on me but He only laughs at me. I tried afterward, to be vicious, filled with anger and rage as I tore apart everything in sight, demanding He tell me and yet, He didn't. More of His followers have died, and more people on Earth have suffered for His stubbornness and yet, He won't fucking tell me.

"Why don't you sit?" He waves His hand smoothly through the air, and a white chair sprouts from the ground. I stare at it, contemplating whether or not I should listen. My legs feel weak, and soon enough, I'll barely be able to carry myself. But do I want to sit, like I'm here for afternoon tea? No. I want my fucking answer.

"I don't want to sit!...Just fucking tell me," it comes out sounding pleading, and it must surprise Him because He turns to face me, His eyes examining my face as I glare at Him, to try and hide the desperation that leaked out. Anger floods me and I want to tear Him apart with the longer He stares, but I know I can't. I tremble slightly and He just takes it all in.

"You really wouldn't like the answer," He says, making His way to His own seat and settling in it comfortably. I walk up to Him, standing right before Him and I grip His white robe, even though it sends an unbearable pain through my being. I clutch at Him harder as the pain flows steadily, draining me of almost everything.

As I stare into His eyes, I can see the answer I want. I know He knows exactly what to tell me, but there's no way I can make Him say it by force. So, I don't know why I do this. I don't know why I even waste time trying to shake Him. None of this affects Him, and even now, He smiles at me. That stupid smile that I hate so much.

In this instance, I want to destroy him. Not because I want to take over man kind, no, I haven't questioned him about that in quite some time but because He won't tell me why I feel this way towards that boy. Besides, we both know there's nothing I can do now that would affect Him. He's still stronger than I am. Whatever He has that I don't, isn't what I'm here for.

He knows that isn't what matters, what I want to know is why I'm so obsessed with this damn human soul. I could punch him, but that would do nothing but wear me out and be a little awkward for both of us. With a deep inhale, I release Him, smoothing away the creases in His pristine, holy robes and step back, smirking. I'll be as calm as Him for a change.

"Try me Old man, you've been wrong before."

A/N: Hello guys! It's me, long time no see, eh?
I'm so sorry for disappearing on everyone. I really am. This story isn't dead, though. It's okay if a lot of people have lost interest in this. I haven't!
Life just went bat shit crazy on me. I was kicked out of my apartment, lost my job, stopped talking to my brother and his girlfriend and couldn't see my God-son anymore, fought with my parents, moved in with my girlfriend, her mom and step dad in a completely different city, had to find a new job, then started talking to my brother again after months and that's when I finally got my computer back. All my stories are on dear ol' Quinton here and now that I have her back, it's time for some uploads!

I really hope some of you are still with me though, it's nice to know my work is enjoyed (:

Thanks so much for everyone's support.