Let me make one thing clear.
I am the baby. I have always been the baby. I will always be the baby. Just because my father cant control his lusts, and he's gone and had another child doesnt mean that anything will change.
I hurled my hand mirror at the wall with a shriek, barely even flinching at the way it shattered and fell. The shadowy figure in the doorway winced at the sight of my room, in which I had been locked for the past three days. There were clothes strewn everywhere, empty liquor bottles and chocolate boxes.
"Seraphine, please," My brother said. I shot him a venomous look, and he replied with a smirk. Ollin was the oldest, the one who had seen every peril of the mortal world. Everything about him was so devilishly charming, and I hated him for it.
"You're being unreasonable. You knew this was going to happen. You knew there would be a sixth child."
I collapsed dramatically onto my king sized bed, a high rise all done up with lacy purple canopies. Fit for a princess, not for a demon bred in the fires of Hell. "I just want to stay the baby."
Ollin came over to me then, slowly but deliberately. He plopped down beside me on the bed, setting off the balance and causing me to toppled over backwards. I recomposed myself, smoothed out my auburn curls and gave him a playful shove.
"You'll always be the baby," Ollin promised, ruffling my hair back up. So much for trying to smooth it. I couldnt help the way my heart fluttered at his words. After all, he was the demon of lust. Brother or not, I was entirely too susceptible to his charms. He didnt even have to try.
A sigh fell from my lips, lingered in the air between us. "I'm bored," I declared, only then realizing how true it was. To think I'd been locked up for so long, like some cursed damsel in a tower. Except that my tower was in another dimension and the horned beast was my own father. I envied the people who had been on the earth, reveling in the light.
"What would you like to do, then?" Ollin asked in that tone of his, the one he used to remind me that he'd done and seen it all. I was sure that he was bored too, having been around for six hundred years. I was still so young, so unaware of the true evils of the world. The humans were a damned race, and together my siblings and I would bring them to an end. It was our sole mission, our only purpose. We did not love, did not feel. We only killed and destroyed and hated.
"Bring me something to play with," I said eventually. "A nice, cute one that I can tear to shreds."
My brother grinned, kissed me lightly on the forehead, and then vanished.
A few moments later, the boy stood before me, quivering. He must have been about sixteen. I knew I looked the same to him, when in fact I had been roaming about for more than a hundred years.
I gave him the most seductive look I could manage. Not that I needed it; there were no mortals that could resist the children of Satan. The spiked tail I'd conjured up flicked about behind my head. I was dressed in only a black lacy thong, and oh so aware of how his poor eyes traveled over my body.
"Hello," I purred. He only stared, stared and trembled. "Wont you come and play with me?"
As if in a trance, he sauntered over to my bed, hovering nervously at the edge. My brother had done well; he had smooth skin, a tangled mess of dark curls, and the widest, most innocent eyes I'd ever seen.
"What's your name?" I asked him, bringing myself onto my knees and leaning in towards him. I reached out for his hands and placed them upon my bare chest. I could feel how he shook, and I loved it so. Loved how weak and feeble and predictable the mortals were.
"M-Matthew," he stammered.
"Matthew," I repeated. A bible name. It tasted sour on my tongue. But I had grown tired of the games. I pressed myself to him until my lips brushed against his ear lobe. "Fuck me," I whispered.
And then he was mine.