Runaway Devil

The following days dragged, like all other days. There had been no sign of Dante or any of his boys. That’s exactly what any of them were, boys. They were young and had no idea what they were stepping into when they threatened me.

I had decided not to engage, let them come to me, knowing full well that they would. But I was becoming impatient. I have been itching for a fight ever since I came topside. It’s not natural for me to go so long without violence. I was no longer a soldier, but I never agreed to be an upstanding citizen. Admittedly, I was excited. I wanted to feel their teeth give beneath my knuckles, their skin rip under my nails. Just thinking about it was getting me riled up.

I looked at Balan, who sensed my energy. He picked his head up in question, waiting to follow my lead. I stood from my couch and stretched, rolled my shoulders, and felt the muscles awaken under my skin. I needed to feel my heart pound, I wanted to feel my heated blood pumping violently through my veins. I flexed my fingers into fists and relaxed them again. I kicked off my shoes and smiled despite myself. I needed to feel the earth beneath my feet.

I found myself at the edge of the woods behind my apartment building, Balan at my side. I felt the thrum of Mother Earth, her power, her stability. It rang through me, strengthening my resolve. I looked at Balan, then the looming trees before me, and took off.

I pushed off the balls of my feet, feeling my muscles pump, propelling me forward. My heels stuck the soil, digging deep grooves as I ran without abandon. Greenery began to blur as I picked up speed, Balan keeping up just fine beside me.

To any onlooker, I would appear to be a rustle in the bushes, and nothing more. My chest burned and my lungs strained against the human air. My heart floated in my chest as I vaulted over a downed tree trunk. I inhaled and exhaled with Balan, our lungs working together, our hearts beating as one. As we approached a clearing, the dense brush opening into a shaded area, I smirked to myself. Looking at Balan, then ahead, I picked up the pace, racing him to the edge of the treeline.

He huffed as I beat him by a hair, slowing to a trot as I took my victory lap around the clearing, boasting to no one. A laughed bubbled past my lips as he sat heavily, brooding. I began stalking him, creeping up and meeting his side-eye with a grin. Before he could move I lunged and tackled him to the ground. I growled and nipped at his ear, rolling us over.

We wrestled, chasing each other all over the clearing, cutting loose for a brief moment in our lives.

My leg hung loosely over the side of the branch I was lazily perched on. Dirt smudged my scarred skin, the muscles beneath it more relaxed. I told Balan to go hunt, knowing he would be hungry after our outing.

I rested my head back on the powerful, thick trunk and listened to the world. I breathed in the life that had found this woods to be its home. Nothing grew in Hell. It wasn’t all fire and brimstone as some may think, but it certainly wasn’t the garden of Eden either.

The soil was acidic and tightly packed. It never rained, making water sparse. We all lived on the tough wildlife that survived deep in the deserts. They resembled rhinoceroses, elephants, prehistoric beasts. Their hides were thick and armored. They could live months without water, their blood thick in their veins.

They not only used warriors for war, but we would often leave the training grounds to go on hunts, killing as many beasts and we could to feed our hordes. We used their hides for protective gear, their meat hearty enough to feed hundreds. Their fangs and teeth were perfect for weapons. I had a favorite knife made from a beasts tusk. I carved notches going in both directions, so it would rip through its victims, and sharpened it to a harsh point. It required limited force to pierce the flesh and to tear it on the way out.

I had used it to saw Angels' wings from their backs on numerous occasions.

Balan dragging an animal across the forest floor broke my reverie. He had caught himself a fawn. He preferred bucks, he liked to chew on the antlers after, but a fawn's meat was more tender. He looked up the tree trunk at me, offering me part of his kill. I shook my head and waved him off. I could digest raw meat, but I wasn’t hungry. I missed the beasts in Hell. And no deer would ever come close to them.

He dug in, tearing the hide all the way through, spilling the nutrient-filled blood into the soil. The fawns eyes stared lifelessly into the distance, its cold tongue lolling from its slack jaw. I looked as he filled his belly, knowing full well that this was the closest he could get to being his true self.

I wasn’t the only one who suffered in the human realm. It was just as hard for Balan, hiding in his false skin. He could have carried any animal in his jaws without trouble, not needing to drag it on the ground, if he were in his true form. But he was weak in this skin, comparatively.

I dropped from the tree soundlessly and discarded the carcass after he had picked it clean. It was getting late in the day, the shade of the canopy shielding us from the setting sun. I clicked my tongue, calling Balan to my side, and began our walk home.

It was a slow and relaxed walk, both of us mellowed from the day's activities. I almost preferred living like a wild animal rather than like a human. I felt closer to my natural self, which was anything but human. I hadn’t needed a cigarette all day, my nerves calmed by the natural world, and spending time with Balan. Humans had a habit of grating my spirit and testing my patience.

As the back of my building came into view, I smelled them. I halted, and waited, listening carefully. Some of Dante’s guys were trashing my place. They were looking for me, thinking that I was hiding somewhere inside. I rolled my eyes and leaned against a nearby tree, waiting for them to finish up. I had no attachments to any of my material possessions. I had some weapons in there, but I didn’t really need them. I was a weapon all on my own.

They mumbled angrily among themselves. They had nothing to bring back to Dante, nothing to show of the raid. They were sloppy and inexperienced. I was almost insulted, it was like sending children to capture a lioness. But to them, I was just a girl, who lived alone, and who had broken their leader's arm. I was just a problem to be solved.

As they filtered out of the building, all of them looked disgruntled, I nudged Balan. He looked up at me, awaiting orders.

Attack.

He was gone the instant he heard in his mind. He bounded after the retreating men. All of there shouts echoing through the empty parking lot. But one unlucky man wasn’t as fast as his friends. Balan caught his thigh, sinking his teeth deep into the meat. He shook his head, using his thigh as a chew toy, destroying any semblance of muscle. His screams turned piercing, Balan had hit bone. I let him snap it, turning his femur to bread crumbs.

I smiled and inhaled the sickly sweet scent of blood in the air. The man was hitting Balan about the head, but it had no effect. All of his friends were long gone, leaving him to fend for himself. They were not about to fight Balan head on. I had to give it to them, it was the smartest decision they had made all day.

Balan, back.

Just as fast as Balan was upon him, he was gone. Each command was precise, Balan never straying from my exact words. He sat at my side, licking his jowls, watching his prey collapse to the pavement. I waited with him, watching to see if his brothers would come back for him, doubting they will.

After ten minutes, filled with blood and sweat, his struggle was becoming pathetic. A grey four-door van, scratched and dented, came screaming into the lot. It jolted to a stop beside him and arms emerged, pulling him in. Then they were gone.

Blood spattered the concrete, which was not an odd occurrence in that neighborhood. If no one noticed that it was new, we were home free.

Once inside, I surveyed the damage, concluding that nothing of value was destroyed. Everything was strewn all over the floor, my clothes spilling from their drawers, food from the fridge in the living room. Balan picked up a stray t-shirt with his front teeth and walked it over to me. I smiled and took it, draping it over my shoulder. I pet behind his ears and lead him to the bathroom.

His paws had dirt and traces of wildlife covering them up to his shoulders. And the same was true for me. We had spent all day romping around outside, living as one with the wild. It was time we rejoined society, even if it was only briefly.

After we both got cleaned up, we crawled right into bed, not bothering to straighten up just yet. That would be for another day.