Letter to the Devil

Dear Father,

I cannot bear to leave without at least giving you an explanation for my departure. For I know that you would send your squadrons of demonic mercenaries through the earth and into the heavens, until I was found, if you thought I had been taken by force. I am well aware how pos- sessive you are of your family and rightfully so. You have taken the upmost care of me, serving as my knight, my lord, and my friend. Yet, despite my love for you, I can no longer remain in this place, which my very heart and soul detests so much. You may wonder how this could be. After all, this is my home and all I have ever known. I will tell you father, even though you can- not possibly understand why such mundane events have afflicted me as if they were the worst tragedies. Thus, I give you fair warning that that these words that I share with you are not wise. However, it is because I love you that I must impart the tainted, human part of my soul.

As a babe and well into childhood, this world engulfed in flames enraptured my innocent eyes. I would stand at my window and gaze down upon the erupting sea of dark fire in absolute wonder. I would watch as it hungrily licked the castle walls, never reaching high enough to pull itself inside. In the distance, I could see the volcanoes spurting out lava. I used to believe it was the sun's blood. I could also see the eloquent manors of obsidian with their steeples of onyx and jade . The flames would try to force their way through the golden gates that served as the manor's wardens, but they never could overcome the heated magic that animates them, a magic hotter than the flames themselves. These giant manors always stood tall and still in the surrounding chaos, quite juxtaposed to the cave dwellings of lava rock. I could always observe your subjects there, walking around, screeching, stealing, laughing.

One of the lovely monstrosities, created from a marble as black as night, always held my attention, and to my luck it lived not too far off from the palace. Pillars rose up to hold a large crystalline terrace encrusted with rubies and emeralds to reflect the light. The gems created a rose garden on black soil. Sometimes, on this terrace there stood a magnificent lady. Her tresses looked as if they had been stolen from the sun and they fell likes beams of light around her waist, her sun-kissed skin still reminding me of the pictures of the glimmering yellow moon. She would wear intricate gowns of satin in the palest of hues, gowns that gave an ever so slight green shimmer of envy to my eyes . She seemed like a ray of summer sun in this land, despite my hav- ing never seen the summer sun. I could not quite make out the features of her face, yet I envi- sioned red lush lips and bright blue eyes. I hoped I could one day look into her eyes and see the sky.

Another intriguing element of her mystique was that, whenever she appeared, she always had a child with her. They were lovely little creatures. Dark hair, light hair, tall and short, chub- by and thin, they came in so many different forms. She would speak to them, sing to them, and play the harp. I longed to go over and listen. I desired to be her and have her as a mother all at once.

Then one day, Payne came pounding into my room out of sheer boredom. He had com- pleted all of the dastardly mischief he could think of in the rest of our wing, so of course, he sought me out as if he was a fury and I a two-faced thief and desecrator of offerings to the gods. On that particular day, he caught me gazing at the great lady out on her terrace as she played the harp to a chubby little cherub with vibrant red, bushy hair. Faint, yet glorious, notes fell from her fingertips. He asked me what I was staring at in his naturally impudent manner. I pointed to the lady and cautiously backed away from him as he came to the window. He laughed and agreed that she was beautiful. I will never forget his other words, “You think her beautiful? At mid- night tonight look out your window and see real beauty.”

You know your son well father, and I know you will not take offense. I was scared to do what he asked. Whatever he does or instructs me to do usually comes to a vicious and emotion- ally scarring end. However, my curiosity, one of my greatest weaknesses, overcame me quickly. So, when midnight came I looked. As the clock struck the hour, I watched in horror as the woman greedily snapped the sweet child’s neck, tearing into it and lapping up his blood. After, she tossed him aside like he was a soiled garment, a broken doll no longer of use.

I informed you of her gruesome comings and goings, and you simply implied that it was just Lady Veronica’s way, as if I had just told you that she prefers dragon scales to griffon feath- ers. You noted that she needed the blood of youth to maintain her appearance and that it really wouldn't do to greet the master of the Underworld looking unseemly. You told me they were most likely meaningless little morsels, with no parents, unable to give anything else. To you it was a trifle, but for weeks after, I laid shaking in my bed as the clock struck twelve, locked in mental terror as the gruesome memory repeatedly flashed before my eyes.

I was six at the time, and it was my first traumatic taste of your world, for I can no longer call it mine. Though I myself was a participant in other cruel acts, mainly playing the role of victim. Queen Angelica, your wife, was the first to demonstrate to me what cruelty actually was. When you were not around to watch me she would smack me brutally into the dark recesses of the castle, swearing that if she saw me in the light she would feed me to the hell hounds. Little did she know how fond they have always been of me. Still, I wouldn't stray before her eyes, and watched in envy from the shadows as she doted upon her own children. She would braid Hav- oc’s long raven mane that so resembled her own. She praised Payne’s ruthless antics, especially when they caused me harm. When Mayhem was born, she never left her youngest daughter alone for a moment, but I was locked in dark chambers to listen to the howls and screams of the lost souls. No one ever said anything, but I've known since those early years that I am not her child.

I asked you later on where I got my auburn hair, and finally you told me of your infideli- ty, my human mother, a beauty upon the edge of the dark. You smiled with the memory of her, you still do, but I have never been reassured that my conception was pleasant for her. Why would she give up a child, unless she hated the man she resembled? I do resemble you more so than the others. We share our coal eyes that seem to reach into the unfathomed depths of our minds, where the others have a brilliant green like their mother's. Both of us are molded by the same pallor, and I tower over my sisters as I share your height. My face follows the sharper con- tours of yours. I used to love the fact that I looked like you. A part of me still does.

You have always been my refuge from the rest of our family, from the residents of this realm. I would sit for hours in your lap as you read me stories from the world above, probably pitying my naivety. You taught me most of what I know since I always seemed to repel my tutors with my inability to comprehend certain dark practices. You protected me from everyone. I knew that secretly I was your most cherished child, but that just angered your queen and my sib- lings. I adored you anyway, though. I would run my hands through your thick black hair, and hide behind you when Payne came lurking and Havoc ranting. You were always there.

Yet, you couldn’t always protect me. I lived in constant fear of my family and the people of the house, and I do still. I learned to check my bed before getting in it, for there were fre- quently poisonous snakes and spiders from Havoc’s collection that gave me the most painful rashes and ailments. Payne one time “accidentally” cut the chandelier’s cord when I was stand- ing underneath. Luckily, I have learned quickly over the years to be on guard for attempts on my life. That was certainly not the last. Over the years, I have been trapped in labyrinths, assaulted by hidden weapons, and been hunted by more dangerous animals than most could imagine. I tried to prank Havoc once by putting powdered cobra venom in her skirts. It worked, but the amount of pranks and the raving of the Queen increased to such a crescendo after that that I nev- er dared to try to retaliate again. These painful events have served a purpose, though. They have strengthened me physically and in ways unseen.

As I got older, I was allowed to attend events, meetings, proceeding, and tournaments. I remember vividly how I watched in awe as the splendor of the night unfolded at my first ball. Radiant gowns fell off the shoulders of the most beautiful women, and crystals hung from their every limb so that the seductresses could radiate their power in every direction. The men dressed in the finest dark suits, encrusted in scales, flashing talons as rings and cufflinks. They spun the women around in circles, each eyeing the other as prey. The night should have been enchanting, but I was awakened to the undercurrents of these social interactions. The mood in the room was deadly, it always is in some way. The men and women gazed at each other with sinister longing. I danced with a few of these deadly beautiful men, but I quickly escaped their company as their beastly natures overtook their facades. Thankfully, you were soon there at my side to fend off the noble demons. You twirled me around the dance floor, and I couldn't hide my laughter as you told me unflattering secrets about the aristocrats stalking about us. I was completely safe, for you have the only true power here. The night grew darker again as a servant spilled ambrosia upon a lady’s dress and was taken off to be relieved of his blood by her male consort. I ran to my room and cried the rest of the night, for I couldn't bear the thoughtless way in which the lesser creatures and souls were treated. You came to comfort me, one of the few there knowing my weak human heart, but I told you I had food poisoning. I lied, for you can never understand how disgusted I was over such a common means to an end.

After this childish outpouring, you deserve to know that my life was not always filled with suffering. I would collect flowers in the far off fields that flourished from the distant light of hellish fire. I would glow as I beheld those flowers that radiated their beauty throughout my room. I helped to birth the hell hounds, and I raised them into adulthood with my own hands over and over again. Dearest Brutus has grown into quite the handsome hound. He is a ruthless warrior, like the rest, but there is a touch of a child's light still in him. I believe he is also more loyal because his loyalty comes from his heart. I shall miss him dearly. My one request is that you see he is taken care of fairly. I also felt joy when I painted, symbols of this joy now hang on your walls. Yet, my fondest memories are when we would play in the fields and tell stories in your office, when you would bring me back spoils of your adventures and explain to me the histories of the worlds. For being the most deathly powerful warrior and god known to the realms, you showed me a fatherly love for which I am forever grateful. You gave me a good yet danger- ous life.

My father, Lucifer, I cannot remain in this realm any longer. I may be the Devil’s child, but the emotions that emanate from me are that of a human. I can no longer bare the hate, anger, and maliciousness of those around me. I do not and cannot take pleasure by inflicting pain, which leaves me an outcast. Being raised in this world has not relieved me of my conscience or my heart. I leave here for the land between where I hope to find a balance between your powers and those of the beings above, who I dare not mention to you by name. Please do not search for me, and do not worry. I have been well prepared to fend and care for myself. I will keep close all the knowledge you gifted me as I search for peace. Dear father, though you are the Devil I know that you care about me, and I shall not share this secret. I want you to know that I will be in a better place. Farewell, my father. I love you. Please tell the rest of our wretched family to lose their power and burn in the flames of our castle’s mote. I am going to be a good human, for it is not what you are but who you are that matters.

Your daughter, Persephone