#owynsama

It wasn't that hard being a Demon Lord. There were responsibilities, of course, but nothing that was unreasonable. Alfred just had a quota of souls to bring to hell every so often. He liked to imagine that those stuck up angels also had quotas, and he hoped that their punishments were at least half of what could happen to a demon, but he doubted it. The soul quota could be difficult, or easy to reach, it all depended on your assigned area of Earth. The highest ranking demons got the best spots, such as cities and war zones. Lower ranks ended up with rural areas most often, making it near impossible to tempt enough humans to rise in the ranks. That wasn't to say that they didn't occasionally get lucky, like having one of Earth’s many natural disasters wipe a small town off the map.

Alfred himself had risen quite high, and so his own area was an urban ‘hell hole’. He hardly ever needed to even try getting his quota, though he did enjoy taking bets with neighboring Lords over who could cause the worst disaster in one sitting. That was what he was observing today. He had set everything up. A man, tempted by him to get dead drunk, was now speeding across the highway. All the pieces were set, there was nothing more he could influence. The rest he had to leave to human judgement, and he absolutely hated this part.

Oh but he had no need to worry, one slip up later had the entire highway in a cloud of smoke. He grinned to himself, watching his soul counter rise and giving himself a pat on the back. Sure, not all souls were going to him, some inevitably went to heaven. That was just how this whole system worked. He turned to his servants, who were watching with glee, and he himself felt even more elated. Oh yes, this was going to be one to brag about. A glimmer of light caught his eye in the portal.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me...” Alfred growled as he saw the unmistakable light of a heavenly angel. He had checked with his sources if any were to be on patrol near his area, so why was this one here? He was certain that they must have been far off and rushed in, typical goodie goodies. Well it was no matter, there was no one left to save.

He had been so wrong. The angel actually found someone stuck in the mass of crushed metal and had saved the man. He appeared to be unscathed too, which was beginning to piss Alfred off. How dare he survive something like this with next to no injury! Checking the list of souls in the area, Alfred was quick to identify the man. Well too bad for this Arthur Kirkland, as he had just earned the ire of a very petty Demon Lord. Right then and there, Alfred swore to himself that he would take this man's soul personally.

He leapt into the portal, to his servants’ dismay, and made his way to where the man was, disguising himself with ease by possessing the body of a nearby man. This would keep that blasted angel off his case, at least for a little while. The man went to the hospital to be checked, and that was when Alfred began forming his plan. He jumped from body to body, eventually taking control of the nurse that was seeing to Arthur. With a sickly sweet smile, he grabbed a needle and a bottle of something, he didn't care what, enough of anything would kill this man. “Hold out your arm, you need a shot, just in case.”

Alfred was almost there, just a little closer, when the doctor came in and stopped her. “Lucine, this patient wasn't scheduled for any shots!”

Alfred cursed to himself and left the woman's body to hover in the air. The poor nurse dropped the needle in surprise. “Oh heavens, you're right, I don't know what came over me...” She looked around warily as if she could sense being watched.

The man he was after, Arthur, crossed his arms. “Do be more careful next time! Giving someone the wrong medicine could kill them!”

Oh good, this guys was an asshole. Alfred smirked to himself and got a closer look. Not that bad looking either, if he was honest. He'd make a fine demon for his court. That is, if Alfred could kill the fucker. Thus began a series of near death experiences for this poor unfortunate soul. Alfred tried everything he could think of! Tempting the construction worker to be lazy, leaving some loose poles that Alfred just so happened to knock free. Arthur survived it. Getting another driver drunk and watching them run a red light, only to get smashed by a bus, sending shrapnel that should have hit Arthur, but it had somehow missed! Needless to say, Arthur survived it.

Alfred knew that the angel was no longer around, so what could possibly be keeping this fucking asshole safe? He'd tried dozens more times, each more convoluted than the last, and each time Arthur had survived somehow. His quota had been blown past, so why was he still so focused on killing this one man? At this point, it bordered on obsession. Alfred had no idea how many days he'd spent trying to get at least one thing to kill this man.

After so many days, maybe even weeks, he'd grown tired of it all, and decided to take matters into his own hands. He materialized himself on Earth, blue eyes glowing from the alleyway he was waiting in. As soon as he caught a glimpse of that shaggy blonde hair, he reached out and pulled the human unto the alley, pinning him to a wall and growling into his ear. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to kill you???”

Arthur, obviously stunned, only stuttered out a reply. “I-I would hope that I would be r-rather difficult to kill--”, He tried his hardest to get a look at his attacker, eyes wide with fear. “--oh God, what the hell are you?”

Alfred flipped the smaller man so they could be face to face, his eyes boring into those green ones. “Me? Oh I'm no one~” He teased. “Just someone that's been trying to take your souls for FUCKING DAYS ON END.”

Seeing his terrified look pleased Alfred greatly, though he also felt something off. A presence that was pushing him back. He let Arthur fall to the ground as he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “What on Earth are you carrying in your pocket? It's awful...”

“My pocket?” Arthur blinked slowly before he pulled out a small bag that jingled with its contents. “It's just a sachet, t-to ward off... evil...”

Slowly the pieces came together in Alfred's mind and he backed away slowly. “A witch...” He glared at the bag with all the intensity he could muster. “You're a fucking witch, anda damn good one huh? That's why I couldn't kill you with my influence...”

Alfred kicked a nearby trashcan a good twenty feet in frustration. “Fucking dammit!”

Now it was Arthur's turn to stand there confidently, sachet in hand. “I'm a high priest of my own coven, yes. My magic is quite powerful.”

That comment earned him a glare from the angry demon. There was one group that demonic influences didn't work on. High ranking religious officials. Of course, there were very rare times when the higher ups of Hell themselves would go influence them, but minor Lords like Alfred didn't have that kind of power. “You listen here and you listen good,” Alfred pushed the man to the wall again, “I will carry you to hell with my own two hands eventually, and don't you forget it. I will get you.”

Within an instant of pure darkness, Alfred was gone, leaving Arthur in the alleyway alone. He held the sachet closer to his chest. This was going to be a very long lifetime.

Alfred did keep his word though. Eighty years later, when Arthur died peacefully in his sleep, Alfred dejectedly pulled the soul from his body. The resulting demon that formed from Arthur's soul merely smirked as he appeared, stepping closer to Alfred and laying his hands on his chest. “Aren't you going to carry me to hell, my Lord?”