Chapter 1
Promotion

Hey people! I didn't count on getting 4 reviews! Even if 2 were rather criticism, but hey, I need some of that stuff too! So:

ellabella - Thanks for the review! I appreciate it! For here and Flashbacks Of Your Past Life!

Vivix - There's no R material yet, but there will be some. I'm not about to spoil the surprises of them right now! But yeah, if you'd rather I take down the rating and then put it back up, sure, but I'd rather have it R right now so that people who don't want to read bad content don't get interested in the story and end up having to stop reading it.

Ferrin – Thank you! And I try to update, but I'm sort of slow ;)

orangepen23 - I have never heard of that story, much less read and know what you're talking about. And I doubt that you can justify your accusation considering I only wrote the prologue so far and many people write about the devil and hell. Also, I'm not basing it on her story, it just inspired me to write about hell and the devil, and I wanted to plug the fiction considering it's what inspired me, to avoid getting accused of what you're accusing me. Thank you. If you believe I copied it, report me, or please don't trash. But thanks for the review, like I said, criticism is welcome.

"Sir, please. I will get severely punished if you do not fallow me." The servant begged the man in front of her.

This one let out a disgusted sigh and fallowed after the lady who led him away. Why do I even waste my time with them? He wondered, giving in to the poor lady's requests. He disliked her very much, but felt pity for her as well. He knew his parents could be cruel; it was their nature, their reason to live. This woman may be a bitch often – all the time actually – but she still did not merit such grand mistreatment.

He walked steps behind the middle aged servant towards the right wing of the castle; yes, the castle. He was then led through a series of doors until the servant stopped at a maroon wooden door and knocked. Grunts were heard inside, fallowed by footsteps.

"You are late!" The woman who answered the door accused the servant.

She then proceeded to lifting her arm and descending it on the servants face, leaving behind a red mark. This one didn't flinch or speak; she had expected it, feared for worse.

"Get out of my sight before I decide to do more to you." The woman barked and the servant left within the blink of an eye.

This woman was average height and very gorgeous. Her hair was in locks of brown, shades of caramel and darker brown could be seen blended in there. It fell a little lower then her shoulders, neatly arranged and combed; well kept. Her features were ageless and she had a nice tan that complimented her figure. Her cheekbones were high and her dress revealed nice collar bones; this one was a crimson colour, wrapping around her athletic body beautifully.

"Come in, Darek. Your father wants to see you." The woman invited in her son, holding out an arm at shoulder height, towards the inside of the room.

"No, mother, I do not wish to speak with him. I can't afford to busy myself with listening to him nag to me about my family duties. Tyson is the heir, and if father can't find the time or energy to go to my graduation then I'll go alone." He argued and turned his back to walk away.

"You don't understand –"

"Yes, I do mother, very clearly. He dislikes me, always have. He prefers Tyson, always has. I will not make the stupid mistake of wasting my time, trying to believe he has a heart somewhere. He truly is a devil, even to his son."

"He is dying Darek. He wishes to see you before he passes." The woman cried after him, placing her hand softly on his shoulder.

Darek truly despised her and longed for the day he would be free of their control. If his father wasn't as strong as he was, he would have overthrown him a long while ago. Now, it seems he is getting what he wants. If his father dies, his brother would take over the kingdom, therefore Darek wouldn't have to do any more 'tasks' for his father. His brother doesn't have more power over him compared to any other demon, unlike his father does. Tyson may be too soft for the job though, therefore he felt he would end up being king someday. If not, he may overthrow his brother. He didn't want it for the fame or authority, but for the honor, respect and power it gave him. A demon could read dreams, lift objects, orb, possess people temporarily and other minor things as for the devil who could do anything he wished – except when he was in heaven.

A silent cry was heard from inside the room, the source hidden by the door, and he took in a deep breath. Would the fucker die already? He wondered silently and his mother shot him a scowl.

"Darek! Go see your father immediately." The woman ordered, taking her hand back to her side and pushing the door further open.

Without hesitating, he snaked out his arm and grabbed the woman by the throat.

"Father is too strong for me to slay, that is the only reason I fallow his orders but you… you I will not hesitate on, and don't make the mistake in believing that your husband is in a shape to safe your sorry ass. So do yourself a favour, and stay out of my way." He threatened and then dropped her.

Her shape fell to the floor and she gasped slightly for breath. Sometimes Darek didn't realize how strong he was, but maybe he did it on purpose. He then took a couple steps into the room and on his left side, found his father in his bed.

"Come." His shaking voice ordered between coughs.

Darek hesitated but gave in and walked to the bedside. In his mind, he wasn't to negotiate with his father, forgive him or do him any dying favours. He would pass away in whatever way happens and then his brother would take over. That's the end of that. And he was glad for it too.

"As you already know, I am dying, and as the devil, I must pass on the task. Your older brother is getting this, but I fear he is too weak in the heart to take the job. He will be killed or overthrown, and you will rule that throne. I want you to find yourself a good mother for your child and train him right, keep the blood line going. And what ever you do, don't let yourself weaken down." He ordered, his voice dying down.

The old man coughed before trying to speak up again, but couldn't find the words or the energy.

It wasn't the first time Darek was listed this and as always, he never paid attention. Contrary to popular belief, he once had been compassionate and caring, until his father grew annoyed of this and decided to take matters in his own hands. Since, his father manipulated and tricked him into doing his chores, tasks, assassinations, torture sessions and other whatnot. Up to this day, he has never been back to his young self, the half his father destroyed. A piece of him matured and grew tired of the fatherly demands, wanting independence, but you can't just pick a fight with the devil and expect to win, unless you're his son.

Darek turned his back on his father then and walked away, having zoned out of the conversation anyways. This information was somewhat interesting. If his father was right, he would be The Devil. But something inside him didn't want to be a spitting image of his dad. He was too cruel to his family and peers. No loyalty or love, compassion or carefulness, sensitivity or sense of humour in him at all. Sure, maybe that's just what The Devil was supposed to be; maybe there was an other way though - probably not.

When Darek reached the door, his mother appeared, obviously having orbed herself. She stared at Darek's eyes as if searching for something; emotions regarding his father's passing. Of course she found none and a hint of disappointment installed itself in her eyes as she entered the room. Darek closed the door with his mind, not looking back then kept walking. His pace was put to a halt when a cry was heard from the King's chamber, but Darek only grinned and then resumed, untouched. Slumber seemed to take over his body then, as if a part of him was now missing. He was sure that every demon felt it, and he felt vulnerable. Until his brother completely took charge of the kingdom, then Hell had no ruler. Heaven could bother them by trying to attack now, and that could cause trouble. The Devil was the strongest defence here, and a symbol of hope.

Even though tiredness reined his body, his mind knew he couldn't sleep yet. He was still royalty and his duty informed him about his job to make sure a ruler is found. Fine then, where the hell is Tyson? He wondered, trying to reach him through telepathic waves, though he couldn't. He could only read dreams, even as the Devil's – or ex-devil's – son. Almost like on cue, he felt a presence in the castle. It was Tyson of course, there was no doubt. Darek, being lazy, decided to orb himself to the great hall instead of walking there.

"Well brother, seems like you're the new leader now. When are you going to finalize the process?" He questioned, sarcastically and dramatically.

Tyson picked up on this, but replied in a harsh tone. "It's already done."

To completely be The Devil, you had to make your blood flow with the old Devil. His body may be dead, but The Devil's blood always remains warm. You take some and give some blood, and there you go. Even if you're family and born with his blood, it doesn't finalize it. Once this happened, all the spiritual energy that goes to The Devil gets summoned to you. Demons have a way of knowing who their king is without having to be told.

"I'm holding a ball in the ballroom tonight at 10, be there for a bit, for my sake. I see that you feel relieved about father passing, and I see jealousy and worry. Do not busy yourself with feeling those emotions, for nothing will happen to me; I am and will remain." He instructed before dismissing him.

He's ruler for half an hour and is already giving me orders. Darek thought as he orbed himself to his room. As part of the royal family, he had a room in the castle, but could be kicked out; it would just look bad on Tyson's behalf. A new, stronger, wave of tiredness took over him as he wandered over to the bedside and dropped himself on the bed, not bothering to unclothes himself. Sleep crept up inside him until it swallowed him whole. For hours, his body soothed itself in the calm serenity of undisturbed sleep, until 9.30 approached. His body was still tired, but his mind was set. Still, he couldn't rule out that his brother had used a spell to ensure his wake. Slowly, he picked himself up and with his mind, opened his closet door, avoiding it to hit him in the face as he stood in close proximity to it. He eyed every article of clothing until he found a neat enough outfit to wear at this ball, took it from the hangers and headed for the washroom. There, he changed, relieved himself, took a shower and brushed his teeth – not in that order. After having applied some cologne, he placed himself behind his mirror once more. Darek grinned at his reflection; he wasn't cocky, but he knew he was handsome, and this black and crimson outfit perfected his features.

The clock in his room rang 10 o'clock and Darek decided to walk to the ballroom. It was only situated down the hall, to the right, down a flight of stairs and to the left – nowhere far. Upon arrival, he blended into the crowd in search for his brother. Many highly respect demons were here. There was the high council, the commander in charge of wars, some rich demons, some very skilled fighters and a couple good friends. The rest was either family or security. All seemed to dress somehow the same, dark clothes but very proper. A small circle was formed at the front of the room and from the corner of his eyes; Derek could see that it was his brother, probably giving a short speech. Momentarily, cheers were heard, fallowed by the taping of wine glasses and then the group dispersed itself. Tyson, of course, was here but his mother was nowhere to be found. Oh well, stupid widow.

"Darek, glad you could make it." Was all that his brother had said when he had approached him.

It meant 'Thank you for showing up, people respect that. You may leave whenever.' but could not be voiced that way, of course. Darek rolled his eyes, which he didn't do so often, and searched the room. His eyes lay on a couple of people and then flickered off to others until they landed on a certain brunette. She was tall and was wearing a black and red corset with a dark jacket. She had brilliant grey eyes and a smile that made you forget momentarily everything else. He approached her and whispered something in her ear, slipping his hand around her back. This one giggled slightly, winked and him and allowed Darek to lead her away. To where? To his chambers. He needed a good lay to finish off this day; it was well deserved after all.

Well, I'm trying to find a new way to write, just writing what I picture in my mind; everything and anything, and then adding details at need. I also wrote myself a plan to fallow to write this story. Hope you review! If you've read this far anyways! Why not?