I Never Told You What I Do For a Living

Two hundred years. I had been on this Earth, feeding, living the life I had never lived, for two hundred years.

Two and one half human lifetimes, and yet it was barely a second.

I told myself that it would be all right, that I would go on living, the same old Kiriel I had always been, but I knew that wasn't true.

If you were going to kill one demon, you may as well kill the rest. My immortality would depart as soon as I had killed Azrael.

Revenge.

Her face appeared in my mind, smiling as brightly as when I had last seen her. She was pale as a ghost, and I suppose that made sense--that was what she was now. I moaned. Revenge. Closing my eyes, I promised her, "Another night and I'll see you. Another night and I'll be you."

I clutched the knife, not shying in the least from the blade, until it drew blood. Sweet, red blood. I was losing my immortality by the second. I took a deep breath. This would be my last sight on this earth: a bleak slyline underscored by haunting gray edifices. The perfect tone to set for this deed.

And down we go.

His eyes widened as he recognized me, recognized the knife held firmly in my grip. It was a look of pure terror. I relished it.

Smiling, I threw him to the ground and held the dagger high over his head, feeling suddenly free as the blood dripping from my wounded hand fell like crimson raindrops onto his face.

I laughed. "You know why I became a demon, Azrael?" I taunted, "It ain't the money and it sure as hell ain't just for the fame. It's for the bodies I claim--and those only go so far 'til you bury them."

Azrael--so arrogant, and such a pathetic excuse for a demon. He didn't even have the backbone to fight back. A pity--I wanted a bit of sport before I took my--her--revenge. But this would do just as well.

Down my knife went.

"Azrael," I snarled. Such a beautiful name for such a terrible demon. "We'll dance alone to the tune of your death. We'll love again, we'll laugh again, and it's better off this way."

"W-we?!" he spluttered, crimson pouring from his wounds now as well.

It was my turn to be surprised now. Did he honestly not remember?! Not remember what he had done?! Who he had killed?! I lifted my arm up and stabbed again and again, enraged.

And as he died, I felt myself begin to fall out of life. "Never again, never again..." I sighed, thinking of her, "We'll love again and we'll laugh again. We'll cry again and we'll dance again. It's better off this way..."

My voice began to fade. "And we're all dead now..." I rasped.

And we were.

I Never Told You What I Do For a Living - My Chemical Romance

The End

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