#belpholo

Chapter 1: Punishment

People always said things with heavy hearts. With a sinking feeling in their chest. Belphegor didn’t understand it until Lilith was killed. He never thought he would have to feel it again, but then MC died.

Now, only a few years later, he would have to stop himself from falling to the floor. He’s done it before, but not like this. Not when he feels as though his life is about to end.

But he has to sit up.

If not, his stiff suit would bend and wrinkle, and he didn’t feel like having Asmodeus pout at him.

“I hate everyone.” There was nothing left in his voice.

Asmodeus scoffed as he applied more powder to Belphegor’s face. “You always say stuff like that. I know this might not be the best situation but at least try to look nice for your wedding day.”

He had no fight remaining in him to respond. After being allowed a month to tear up the House of Lamentation after the news, there was nothing left.

Beelzebub walked from his spot in the corner and pulled up a chair to sit next to Belphegor. Ignoring Asmodeus’ opposition, he placed an arm around his younger brother.

“This is only for show, right? You can still stay with us.” Belphegor shook his head.

“Lucifer told me that I’d permanently be staying at the castle. He said Diavolo wanted it.” Just saying his name made him feel sick.

“Mammon would kill to be in your position, you know.” Asmodeus stated, fixing small imperfections present on Belphegor’s attire. “I probably could too. I mean look at the size of Diavolo. I can only imagine what hi-”

“Asmo.” Beelzebub sighed and all remained quiet.

Belphegor contented himself with looking around the room they were in. He soon found himself bored as it looked like all the others- dark walls, red curtains, and terribly old furniture that befit such an old man.

Belphegor looked down to the roses in his hand. He thought about letting go the mixed red and blue roses in his hands.

He never wanted to see these roses again.

In fact, he wanted to rip them, petal by petal, bit by bit until there was nothing left and put them into a basket to pour all over Diavolo’s head, leaving a handful to stuff down this throat.

As Asmodeus fought to make his hair less flat, he wondered why it had to come down to this.

Wasn’t it enough for them to demand he become King so early on? Why did they want one of us?

Never had he loathed the public more than now.

Never had he wanted to kill Lucifer so badly for agreeing to the demands of the Devildom and of Diavolo himself. He had crossed a line.

They wanted someone who was reliable. Someone who would keep the monarchy in check and stable. Why did they decide that I was good enough?

Anger rose through him again. A constant dance between red with balled up fists and gray with the inability to even stand himself up coursed through his mind.

Hot tears broke past his barriers.

He wanted sleep.

He wanted his bed, and blankets, and pillows, and MC, and Lilith, and Beel, and his life back. He would give anything to be locked in the attic again, knowing that at least he could shut everyone out.

That everyone could shut him in.

He wanted to be forgotten.

He wanted to be free.

But freedom doesn’t come to those who kill. Who maim. Who berate those in charge and expect no consequences to be shoved back to them.

He figured this was everlasting dose of consequences. This was his punishment for his past deeds.

Belphegor walked out of the room and waited alone in the hall while Asmodeus and Beelzebub took their seats.

As the doors opened and Lucifer gave him his arm, he silently laughed while thinking for the last time as a single man.