Annabelle was quiet as Ms. King poured milk and cereal into a chipped bowl. Her cold gaze followed her every move, even as she sat down in front of her. Ms. King watched Anna for a moment, waiting to see if she would say anything, before dipping into her cereal.
It was uncomfortable, the silence. Anna just sat, perfectly still, staring, with those oh-so-familiar blank grey eyes. Ms. King tried to not look up, simply kept her eyes downcast and ate her cereal. The longer Anna stared, the colder Ms. King got, the more goosebumps appeared on her arms. But she knew better than to ask Anna to stop staring.
“Mom, I want to ask you something.” Annabelle said, her voice low, cold, precise. Ms. King immediately abandoned her spoon, and sat up straight in her chair. She furrowed her brow at Annabelle’s expression: she was…curious. Confused. An expression Ms. King hadn’t seen on Anna’s face in years. She hadn't seen any expression on her face in years.
“Yes, what is it Anna?” Ms. King asked, curiosity making her eager to hear what her daughter had to say.
“Where’s my father?”
Ms. King almost fell out of her chair. The question caused her to physically recoil back, wincing at the word ‘father’. The air was sucked out of her lungs. The memory of him filling Ms. King with both love and grief. Annabelle’s eyes were narrowed again, cold and unforgiving. Ms. King wasn’t getting out of this. She had betrayed herself, shown her thoughts.
“What makes you ask that?” She asked once she regained her composure. A cold sweat had broken out across her wrinkled forehead. Annabelle made no move to answer, she just kept a still, all consuming stare.
“Your father… he left when you were born. I don’t know where he is.” Annabelle couldn’t know about her father. It would be the end of the small bit of normalcy left in her life.
“Yes you do. You’re lying to me.” Annabelle said. The light fixture above the table flickered. Annabelle had stood up, and although she was only eight, and still small, Ms. King felt like her daughter was towering over her.
Ms. King crumpled in her chair. She shivered, a mix of the frigid air and the pure fear that penetrated her skin. Annabelle did not move. When Ms. King looked up at her daughter, she saw that she too was shaking. But not because of the cold. Annabelle had her hands wrapped around the edge of the table, and her knuckles were white with the force of her grip. Her whole body was shaking in anger. Her porcelain white skin had a red hue to it. Ms. King watched with wide eyes as her daughter spoke again.
“I don’t like you lying to me. Where…is…my…father? Why can’t I see him?” Annabelle shrieked. Ms. King jumped backwards, out of her chair, and onto the floor. Annabelle followed her, now truly standing over Ms. King, her cold eyes alighted with anger.
Ms. King had seen Annabelle upset, but this was different. Annabelle had never shown anger, and had certainly never seen her shaking with pure rage. Annabelle terrified her mother because of her blank eyes, her cold voice, her intelligence, her indifference, in the way she seemed to be able to move quickly without making a sound, in the way she could practically read Ms. King’s mind. But now she was terrified because she looked like she could kill.
“Speak to me!” Annabelle screamed. The lights in the kitchen blew out, shattering glass down on the two. Darkness covered the room, making Annabelle’s pale skin practically glow.
“I don’t know where your father is Annabelle. I really don’t. I’m not lying.” Ms. King managed to choke out. And that seemed to flip a switch. Annabelle stepped back, unclenching her fists. Her eyes regained their blank indifference. She shrugged.
“Okay mommy. I’m going to go to my room and color.” Annabelle floated off, gliding down the hall to her room. It was silent until Ms. King heard her door slam shut, and the lock click. Only then did she stand up, using the counter as support.
Ms. King was silent, yet tears streamed down her face, dripping onto the dingy tile that was now littered with glass.
“Please. Come back. Don’t leave me with her.” She whispered, clenching her eyes shut.

Ms. King didn’t see Annabelle for three days. Annabelle was absent, and Ms. Kind had no reason to hunt her down.At night, she would be woken up by the feeling that someone was watching her. She could feel blank, cold eyes burning holes into her eyelids. She could feel warm breath tickling her face. But she didn’t move. She kept her breathing even and slow. She didn't open her eyes. Then, the sensation would leave her, and fell back asleep.
For those three days, she felt more nervous, and more terrified, than she ever had in the past eight years. She was constantly checking over her shoulder, waiting for Annabelle to come out and ask her about her father again.
On the third day of Annabelle’s exile into her room, Ms. King snuck past Annabelle’s, trying to be as quiet as possible, and into her own room. She locked the door behind her.
The top right drawer of her dresser was hard to open. Of course, this was because it hadn't been touched in eight years. Ms. King opened it slowly, wincing as it squeaked. She didn't want to alert Annabelle of her secretive actions.
Inside was a small white book. On further inspection, it was a bible. Ms. King held it reverently, her eyes glazing over. She stroked the smooth leather cover with a single pale finger, soaking in every detail of the one thing he left behind.
Ms. King hadn’t taken it out since he left. She had been unwilling to touch it for fear of what terror it would bring down upon her. She had thought about looking at it once, when he first left, but when she went to retrieve it, something had stopped her. Something almost like a physical barrier, an arm holding her back. But now, it was almost as if something was pulling her to it, begging her to hold the book.
A warm heat filled her usually cold body, making her close her eyes in pleasure. The book was comforting to Ms. King, even thought it reminded her in every way about Annabelle’s father. Inside, written on the cover, in perfect handwriting made sharp lines and angles, was a note.
“until an hour before the Devil fell, God thought him beautiful in Heaven.”

you have nine years. and for those nine years, you will suffer at the hands of your own blood. and then, I will come. 

Ms. King dropped the bible. The warmth that she felt at touching his only possession left behind was gone. Instead, the frigid feeling she had become familiar with overtook her.
“Oh god. What have I done? Oh god.” She sobbed, her fear coming over her. Her realization at what she had done all those years ago causing her to break down. She slid off the bed, and landed in a heap on the ground. Warm, salty tears trailed down her face, dripping onto her shaking hands.
The door never opened, but suddenly, Annabelle was standing over her. Ms. King shook harder.
Annabelle squatted down, studying her mothers face, studying her terror. Something was different in Annabelle’s face. Her eyes were filled with understanding, and… satisfaction.
Annabelle reached out to touch her mothers face. Ms. King went stiff. Annabelle had never touched her.
Annabelle ran a single finer across her cheek. Her finger was unbearably cold, leaving Ms. King racked with shivers again. Neither of them moved. They simply looked into each others eyes. Annabelle smiled.
“God can’t help you now. We are dead to God.”  Annabelle whispered. Her voice was low and quiet. Ms. King felt the words hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs, leaving her struggling to not suffocate.
Annabelle stood and walked out the door leaving her mother laying on the floor, sobbing loudly, clutching her thin arms around herself.
“God help me, please God, I’m sorry, I repent, God help me.” She sobbed, crying out to the creator she had turned her back to.
At some point, Ms. King feel asleep, curled on the floor of her room. As she dreamed, whimpering and crying out to god in her sleep, Annabelle glided into the room. She laid a hand on her mother, and as she did, Ms. King quieted, and stilled. Annabelle picked up the small white book that laid near her mothers head, and glanced at her mom. She was fast asleep.
“The Bible…” Annabelle whispered, reading the cover. She sneered, disgust coating her face.
She left the room, leaving the her mothers door open behind her, and moved quickly into her room, locking the door behind her, taking the bible with her.

Ms. King woke up the next morning to find herself laying on the floor. She contemplated not getting up, to just lay on the floor, to let herself wither away… to let Annabelle wither away.
The message he left her ran through her mind. You have nine years. and for those nine years, you will suffer at the hands of your own blood. And then, I will come.
And then Annabelle’s ominous words floated in her mind as well: God can’t help you now. We are dead to God.
She held back tears, and slowly stood up, trying not to collapse under the weight of last nights events.
Ms. King ventured out of her room, down the dark hallway, into the dark living room. None of the lights were on. Annabelle was nowhere to be found. Ms. King thought about making breakfast, but just couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she sat down on the couch, and stared at  her hands. Last night, she had dreamt about her first encounter with him, and now it was all she could think about.

The sun was just beginning to light up the earth, when she made her way to the dirt crossroads. It was in the middle of a huge corn field. The crop had recently been harvested, so it was just flat nothing for miles, until the town started. She looked back at her town, where her parents were asleep, unaware that their only daughter had walked for miles, alone. If they knew what she was about to do… she stopped thinking about it, and turned her back to her town.
Lily King stared guardedly at the crossroads, trying to remember what the priest had told her to do. He was more than willing to help Lily out, especially once she had paid him. He was a corrupt, alcoholic, bastard, and knew too much about this sort of thing for the average person. He said his name was Andras, and he had black eyes.
Lily stepped slowly into the middle of the crossroads, and closed her eyes.
“Daemones appetitiones animi libidine mea.” She spoke slowly, pronouncing every word precisely. She didn’t know the full translation, but she knew it would get her what she wanted.
When she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her. He overwhelmed Lily, with simply his presence. She studied him, drank him in. He was like no man she had seen before. He was amazing. He was beautiful.
Black hair, porcelain skin. Deep, grey eyes that looked as if they had seen both beautiful and terrible things. Lily tried to form words, to tell him her desires, to make a deal, but her words caught in her throat. She was choked by his presence, and by the enormity of what was about to happen.
It was then that Lily realized he was studying her too. He wasn’t raking her body over, the way most men did these days. He was simply staring into her eyes. She could feel his gaze boring into her mind…she felt like his whole being was filling her head, prodding her soul, trying to understand her.
“You’re so beautiful, so pure… why are you here?” He spoke. His voice was like that of no other she had heard. It sounded like a whole choir of angels pouring their soul from his mouth. Like the church bells that rang throughout the town every Sunday, alerting the good Christian citizens that it was the Lords day and that it was time to worship.
“I am here to make a…deal.” Lily said. His eyes flared with confusion, and anger. She stepped closer to her, and for a moment, Lily felt fear rise up in her throat. He was beautiful, but she knew what he was.
“What’s your name?” He asked. His eyes softened, and he stepped closer. This time, she didn't retreat in fear.
“Lily. I’m Lily King.” She said. He kept moving closer until he was merely inches from her. He reached out, taking her hand. Unlike what Lily expected, his hand was warm, soft. He held her hand delicately, yet his eyes never left hers.
“Lily… please, I beg you, turn around. Forget about whatever it is you came here for.” He said. His eyes were filled with sadness, and desperation. But Lily’s were filled with confusion.
“Why? I thought this is what your kind does? What’s wrong?” Lily begged. This was her only hope left, and he was wanting to turn her away.
“You’re so pure. There are very few humans left who's souls are so untouched by evil and darkness.” He said. Lily could pick up every emotion, every thought he was radiating. He was in awe of her.
She had no words to say. She collapsed onto the ground, the realization that her last resort was failing, and she would never have a child overwhelming her.
She was immediately lifted off the ground, two strong arms pulling her off her feet. The demon was holding her…hugging her.
“Lily, please don’t cry. I know what you desire. You want a child. But Lily, dear, it isn’t worth your soul. I cannot take it.” He whispered into her ear. Lily held tight to him, crying into his shoulder.
Lily slowly pulled back from the man, from the demon, and looked closely at him.
“Tell me, what is your name?” Lily asked.
The sun had risen farther into the sky, and was reflecting off of her blonde hair, making it appear as if a halo was resting on her head.
“I have many names, dear Lily. But the one you’d be most familiar with is Lucifer.” He said. Lily knew she should've been terrified, she should've run screaming. But she couldn’t. She couldn't willingly run away from this man. From Lucifer.
“Lucifer…how can the devil feel such pity for a simple girl? How can you not just take my soul, and give me a child?” Lily asked, amazed at what was happening. Lucifer shook his head, a smile dancing on his lips.
“I will give you the child you desire. I will do it for you. And I will not take your soul. Only if you give me one thing.” Lucifer spoke,“Love me, Lily. Love me, and never leave me. Never betray me. Do that, and I will love you back, and I will give you the child you want.”

Ms. King blinked herself back into the present, not wanting to remember any further. She was back in her living room, the darkness replaced by the light streaming in through the windows. She was alone. A shadow flashed in the corner, and before she could do anything, she was forced back into her memories.

One day, Lucifer awoke Lily gently from her sleep.
“Lily? Darling, Lily, wake up.” He whispered gently rocking her shoulder. He watched her in adoration as she rolled into his chest, waking up slowly.
“Good morning, my love. Is something wrong?” She asked, looking up into those beautiful grey eyes she had always admired.
“I have to go on a short…business trip. I’ll only be gone for the weekend.” He said. His voice was filled with sadness at having to leave his love alone, but he could never take her to his true home with him. She didn't need to see that.
“Can I not come? I don’t want to be without, my love.” She whispered.
“Lily, where I have to go, I don’t want you to have to see. You must understand.” He said. And she did. She trusted Lucifer to do what was best for her.
And so Lucifer left, after many kisses and hugs and “I Love You”’s. And Lily was okay. She knew he would return within a few days. He promised to only be gone for the weekend.
So on Sunday, when he said he would be home, she made a grand dinner, got all dressed up, and waited excitedly by the door.
But he never came. So she just figured he couldn't get a ride home, or maybe his flight got canceled. She didn't doubt that he was coming home when he said he would.
But a week later, when he still hadn't come home, she was worried, and she was hurt. She had no way of contacting him (she realized that she had never seen him with a phone), and he hadn't sent any sort of message her way.
Lily was so overwhelmed with the feeling of betrayal, that Lucifer would just leave her alone, with him knowing very well that Lily loved no one more than him, and wanted to do nothing more than spend time with him.
Lily went to a nearby bar and got completely drunk. The alcohol took away Lily’s worries. Lily didn't remember much from that night, after the first few drinks. But the next morning, she woke up next to another man. In her house.
Lucifer was waiting downstairs for her. Lily wanted to run to his arms, to feel him cradle her once more. But when she saw his expression, she stopped dead.
His grey eyes were filled with despair, distrust, and pure sadness. But they were also filled with rage. She stepped backwards once, terrified. Because now Lucifer truly looked like the evil, angry thing you would expect him to.
“You promised to love me, and to not betray me. You promised.” He whispered. His words shook with anger.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, I was drunk and I didn't mean to and I love you I love you so much-“ Lily choked out, tears pouring out of her eyes.
“I will still give you your child. But from the moment she is born, you will suffer at her hands. And every time you look into her eyes, you will be reminded of me, of your betrayal.” He spat. And then he walked out the door.
Lily didn't see Lucifer for nine months. Nine excruciating months. The life that rest inside her stomach was violent, and seemed to have the intention to kill Lily from the inside. Every day, Lily cried for her lost love, for Lucifer. She screamed, and cried, begging him to forgive her.

Although it was questionable, Lily somehow survived giving birth, and the nurses took the baby away to get it cleaned up.
“So, you finally got your child.” Lily knew that voice. Her eyes filled with tears, and she was overwhelmed with emotion. Lucifer stood beside where she laid on the bed.
He was still as beautiful and perfect as Lily remembered. His grey eyes locked onto hers, and Lily almost choked. They weren't angry. They were sad. He looked broken.
“My dear, sweet Lily. I’m so sorry this had to happen. I can’t stay for long. But I wanted to give you this.” He whispered, running a hand lovingly over Lily’s cheek. He placed a small white bible on the bedside table. Lily didn't even notice it. She was too busy staring into his eyes. She grabbed his hand. He winced, yet let her hold on.
“Please don’t go Lucifer. I love you.” She whispered. A tear ran down his face, which he hastily wiped off.
“Oh, Lily. I love you too.” He said. He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then, he moved his lips to her ear.
“Name her Annabelle, and tell her nothing of me.” He whispered. She drank in his presence, his voice.
He was gone.

Ms. King was shocked awake by a cold presence in front of her. And she let out a strangled sob when she stared into those same deep grey eyes.
Only, it was just Annabelle. And she was crying. Crying for Lily.
“Mommy, it’s okay. He’s coming. It’ll be okay.” She whispered. And she hugged Lily, her mother. Annabelle wrapped her little arms around Lily’s neck, and hugged her.

Lily was too consumed by grief to comprehend what happened next. She laid on the couch, sobbing, overwhelmed by her memories, as Lucifer walked into her house.
“Daddy!” Annabelle screamed. She ran over to the man that she saw in her mothers memories, and leapt into his arms. She had watched her mothers memories, watched the story of their love, of her betrayal.
“My dear, sweet Annabelle. I’m so glad to finally see you.” He said, hugging the little girl tight to him. “It’s time to go home.”
“But what about mommy?” Annabelle whispered. Lucifer turned to look at the love of his life, who was curled on the couch, sobbing. Sadness overcame him at seeing her like that. At knowing he caused it.
“She has to stay here.” He said, sadness dripping off his every word. And for some reason, Annabelle understood that.
And so they left, together, Father and Daughter.
And with them, went Lily’s soul, what she sold to Lucifer when she betrayed him.
No one missed her.
Her body stayed curled on the couch, slowly rotting and returning to the earth.
And every day, Lucifer cried, for his dear, sweet, Lily.