9. Niklaus

Chapter nine

Niklaus

Christmas Eve

T he chill of the winter air flows through my long, ivory locks as I ride my loyal skeletal horse, Sorrow, as the sun’s glow dims on the horizon. The world is silent, save for the demonic wails from Sorrow as he carries me across the sky. His onyx wings, mangled with tears from past battles, are open wide and glide us toward our first destination.

Eerie silence encases the town of Lockwood down below. Their homes locked tight, their windows boarded and sealed, smoke fumes from the chimneys rising high into the sky—as if that would stop us. Oh, but the fun is just about to begin. I’m consumed with anticipation and adrenaline. My hellions await my signal below and across the globe to tear into the marked ones—every tainted soul marked that dies tonight, their soul will rush to me, empowering me with their vile essence.

I look forward to this day every year, when I will be at my most powerful. I usually travel across the seas to hit more of my marks alone, but this year... Lockwood calls to me for a completely different reason. There is one soul in particular I hunger for the most, my little reaper, who thinks she can evade me—evade what’s to come. Cherise Bates, you will be mine. Tonight. Her soul calls to me, her sin’s aroma too sweet, and I will bathe this entire town in blood until I find her and claim her, wicked or innocent. Nothing will get in my way.

Cherise thinks tonight will end with my death. When she left my home a month ago, I was fucking furious. The most pissed off I can recall myself being. But then I remembered something: I’ve never killed anyone with the last name Bates. My little reaper is either lying to me, or she is not clued in on the whole story that she’s spewing. I gave her the precious fucking space that she said she needed from me. It drove me absolutely mad not following my intuition to chase her around like the spineless bitch she’s turning me into, but now I’m done playing her game. She will face me—The Saint—tonight. I will make her fucking see that she is mine, or I will force her soul from her stunning body and kill her before she kills me. That way, she won’t ever be able to escape me in Hell.

This will end in one of two ways, my little reaper: offer me your soul, or I will take it.

It’s almost time. The last glimmers of light fade, and darkness begins to envelop the world. My demonic laughter rings out around me and travels to the town below as I lean back, my arms spread wide, black claws twirling into the harsh wind surrounding me. It feels fantastic to be in my proper, marvelous form again.

Sorrow whinnies, a screeching, haunting melody as tension fills the atmosphere—he’s ready to reign terror upon the town of Lockwood. I grab a hold of his reins and pull them back. “Heed me, Sorrow! Circle the skies. Tonight, we shall devour every wicked soul to cross our paths. But I need you to help me sniff out the real prize of the night.” His answering screech is all I get before he takes off at full speed, descending until we are hovering atop the homes of the humans, and circling around with his resounding otherworldly shrieks. I clasp my hands together and summon my golden scroll, containing every name of the damned souls I will devour tonight. I open it enough to place one hand upon the gleaming parchment, imbuing my magic into it, which notifies my imps to begin their assault on the world. I bellow a vicious laugh that echoes throughout Lockwood. “Claim the souls marked for your master. Feast on their delicious sins and send them to Hell!”

It doesn’t take long before the immaculate screams course through the town. I look down and watch as my imps chase around a woman—Diana Williams, who poisoned her 82-year-old husband to claim his life insurance—time to burn in Hell, Dirty Diana. The hellions pounce on her back, pinning her forcefully into the ground as they rip and tear into her flesh. Her cries for help fill me with absolute joy. The growls and snarling mix with the screams of fear, overwhelming me with the holiday spirit. I breathe deep, closing my eyes and tilting my head back, letting the wind wash over me as I bathe in the ecstasy of the sounds below. From Lockwood and beyond, I feel their black-stained souls transfer to me, empowering me, pure fucking euphoria surging within. I groan loudly, a broad grin spreading across my lips the stronger I become.

A loud explosion in the distance, followed by cheers from my imps, makes my head snap up while I watch the fire burn brightly and swallow an entire house whole. Good job, my little grotesque hellions. “Roast their corpses over the open fires and pick your teeth with their bones once you’re through,” I shout down at the imps, and their shrieks of glee rebound back up to me in response. I extend my arm and rain Hellfire upon a home beneath me that houses one of my damned. I can smell their taint wafting up to me from their termite-infested roof. A vicious cackle bursts past my lips, as the screams crescendo around me. Hell on earth, what a magnificent sight to behold.

The full moon hangs high in the sky, casting its alluring glow upon the terror down below. I grow antsier as the night continues and I become more powerful, but nothing will sate the burning hole in my chest that can only be sufficed by one soul. Where are you, little reaper?

“Find her, Sorrow! Find the one who smells of a sin so sweet that it rots your teeth!” His neigh ricochets as he tucks his wings to his sides and dives lower into the chaos. My hair whips around my face, tangling with my curved horns as Sorrow spins in the opposite direction. “Have you caught her scent?” He shakes his head and blares an ear-piercing screech.

I glimpse a house on the corner of the neighborhood we’re soaring over, a house lit up like a Lucifer damned Christmas tree. Decked out with colorful lights that blaze as bright as the sun. As we draw near, I inspect the run-down home with a keen eye and notice that this particular home has no wooden boards covering its windows. This one was expecting me—or someone—to come and find them. A wicked smile warps my lips, my razor-sharp teeth bathing in the moonlight.

Hello, little reaper.

He dives to the street; I lurch forward when his skeletal hooves connect with the snowy pavement. He gallops at high speed, his bony nose in the air, sniffing for my delectable present. But I already know she resides in this house adorned with dangling lights. I can fucking sense her, taste her sins on my forked tongue. I can’t wait to fucking taste her—devour her. My cock already stirs at the thought. “Faster, Sorrow!” My mouth salivates as my steed quickens his pace, his hooves pounding against the pavement. We’re so fucking close now.

Sorrow dashes up the slick driveway with ease and comes to a halt in front of the illuminated porch. With a huff of triumph, I jump off my loyal steed and race up to the front door. The rich, metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils as I near the door.

Finish what you started ten years ago.

The words are unmistakably written in blood—if there were no other indications that my sweet sin was behind this door, this would have been the dead giveaway. Christmas music, from a time when people once celebrated, booms loudly behind the walls. Let’s dance, baby.

I know she believes I’ve killed her family and now wants me dead for this transgression. But I’ve done nothing of the fucking sort. I’m not innocent by any means, and I will kill without hesitation, especially to claim a delicious soul. I would happily admit to the crime—if only I had committed it. Tonight, my sweet Cherise, all of your secrets, along with mine, will be laid bare. I’m done playing.

I lift my onyx-clawed hand toward the door and emit my magic into the air. It circles around me, waiting for my command. With a flick of my wrist toward the door, it flies off its hinges and crashes inside what looks to be a living room. I walk directly to the threshold and peer inside, seeing no movement. “Ho, ho, ho! The Saint has come to claim your soul!” I bellow into the desolate space before me. Okay, it’s a little cheesy… but I think it’s fitting for the occasion.

I catch a faint glint of something shiny above the doorway, and a half-smirk tilts my lips. I reach into my crimson jacket pocket, the hem swaying in the wind around my knees, and procure the blade I watched my little reaper fuck her perfect little pussy with. I know she’ll be delighted to be reunited with it.

Why do I care if that makes her happy? With an annoyed sigh, I drop the knife onto the small rectangular gray rug beyond the threshold. As I suspected, a throng of knives—clinging to the ceiling by some contraption—slam into the floor in a rapid sequence of dull thuds; the pointy ends digging into the tattered rug. “Too obvious, Cherise,” I drawl lazily. I bet she’s sweating, now that I’ve addressed her by name.

I step over the death trap clearly laid out for me, duck my head to avoid my horns from smashing into the door frame, and strut with a cocky gait into the living room. I look around the home, and from all I can see in my surroundings, I don’t spot a ravenous little human with a thirst for my blood anywhere.

This house reeks of decay and blood. I tilt my head toward the foul scent and spot the source of the fragrance. I turn to face a little tree, the green branches adorned with twinkling red and white lights, ornaments, and candy canes. I smirk at the sight of my favorite peppermint treat lining the tree; she was thinking of me. Propped up in a sitting position next to the tree is a man’s body that’s missing its head. His body is wrapped in, you guessed it, more lights that flicker on and off. I rake my eyes down his mutilated body, and there in his lap is his severed head; his mouth is crooked and hangs open—with two candy canes jammed through his eyes. Blood that looks like tears are smeared down his cheeks.

“Someone’s been a naughty girl,” I drawl. With one last look at Cherise’s... decoration, I clear my throat and turn back to the center of the room to investigate further.

I stalk towards the very suspicious open door, that appears to lead into a bedroom. “Cher—”

Shrieks of rage are my only warning before pain sears into my neck and the side of my stomach as rogue legs wrap around my waist, making me stumble forward with a grunt of pain. She actually caught me off guard—well done, little reaper. Wetness pools down my neck, as my hot and sticky blood drenches my expensive button-up. Add that to the long list of things I will punish this girl for.

She tightens her legs around my waist in a vice grip, shouting into my very delicate ears, and repeatedly stabbing me with something small... yet very sharp. A feral laugh rips out of me, making her determination to hurt me that much more aggressive.

“Die, motherfucker! Die!” A snap sounds, and I finally look over to see her weapon of choice is… a fucking candy cane?

“Now, now. That won’t do the trick, my dear,” I muse, gripping her red-bottomed stilettos and bouncing her up and down on my back as if we were just playing around—and she didn’t just try to stab me to death with peppermint candy.

I pause my playfulness with her; when she brandishes her favorite blade against my throat, she presses it roughly against my flesh. Fuck, why did I choose to give this back to her again? “You took everything from me. You ruined my LIFE! I’m going to save the world from ever suffering your disgusting existence again. They will revere me as The Saint, the one who saved Christmas.” Her tone is laced with malice, pure disdain for me and what she believes I have done to her. “I’ll see you in Hell, asshole.”

Before she can slice open my throat and ruin my clothes even further, I save her the trouble. With a snap of my fingers, her flashing lights shoot off the walls and lock tight around her arms, flinging her off me. I turn sharply on my heels and tower over her. Confusion riddles her beautiful features. Wait... did she dye her hair? I tsk, looking down at her sitting on that pretty ass, her wrists held out to her sides and attached to the lights. “You have been very naughty this Christmas, Cherise. Tell me, since you no longer had your blade, what did you fuck your cunt with after you brutally decapitated this guy?” I flick out my tongue, and it hangs out in front of me as I devour her with my hungry stare.

“You’re not The Saint! Where is the real one, you damn imposter!” Her thought process never ceases to amaze me. It’s what I lo... like so much about her. What the fuck am I thinking?

I furrow my brows and scoff. I extend my arms and twirl around slowly for her. Once facing her feral glare, I stare her up and down, raising my brows to my hairline. “I can assure you, I am the one and only.”

“NO! You’re not how I remember you! The real demon had black hair... and a mustache... and... ” Her eyes glaze over as she stares into space.

“Fuck’s sake, not this again.” With a wave of my hands, more lights shoot off various furniture in the home and wrap around her ankles, snaking up her bare legs. I flick my hand, and Cherise slams against the wall, strung up like my very own beautiful decoration. Her tight, red dress rides up her thighs, dangerously close to showing me the other part of her I’m here to claim.

My eyes darken as I glare at my little reaper, up against the wall, her chest heaving as she struggles for oxygen. Her limbs are spread wide, and she looks like she’s in the middle of making a snow angel on the wall. How cute. “Who the fuck are you!” she screams at me from the top of her lungs. “Why did you murder my family? Why did you take everything from me and send me off to the fucking place that ruined me!”

I cock my head, my fingers twitching at my sides. I dart forward with inhuman speed and dig my claws into the wall—you can feel the house shake with the force of impact. She inhales a quick gasp when I inch closer to her face; my claws drag down the wall, making a horrible sound next to her head. “I told you. I’m The Saint, and I didn’t kill your family. You got the wrong demon.” I flick out my tongue and brush it against her neck, tasting her sweet flesh. She turns her head, panting through her clenched teeth. I let out a soft groan, pulling my tongue back through my teeth while she whips her head back to face me with a furious snarl. “Love your hair, by the way. The colors suit you, little reaper.”

Her eyes search mine immensely. Her chin trembles, and her voice quivers. “Your eyes... Nik?” she whispers.

With the back of my hand, I caress her cheek and release a shaking breath. “You finally see me as I am. Are you afraid?”

“No,” she breathes. “But I’m still going to kill you for what you’ve done.”