̸͙̪̼̯̄̉̚͜t̸̗͋̅́r̶̗̦͇̞̉̈́̑͊̚ẻ̶͈͋͑a̶̡̬̱͐̾͆͒͂s̸̰͓̠͌̈̐ṵ̷͙̀̀̎̄̄ŗ̸̡͙̩͒́̀͗̊e̴͎̗̓͒ͅs̸̥̟͈̗̐̽̔̚͜ ̵͕̱̻̈́̇̚͘ṡ̴̢͙̙̙͎h̷̢̚a̴̮̠͎̩͐̀̊͜l̷̘̥̘̈́̌͘l̶̙̆͝ ̸̻̥͎̬̘̈͊̏͊̓s̴̞̼͎̒o̸̩͖̓ō̶̢̐n̶͎͊̉͑̏͜ ̵̩͒̇f̸̢̛͍̜̘̞̂̀a̶̲̫̩͎͙̐d̵͍͍̯͒̔͜͠ḛ̷̞̈́̏͊,̴̲̲̹͓͝ ̶͍͚́́å̴͍̞̎̚ ̶̧̪̘͖̈̈́́͝ͅd̷̝͒̈́̒r̷͖͉͚̱̀̽̚ò̶̤̂̌̅p̷͎̲̱͖̬̋̔͂̔̕
                          
̵̟̫̾͂̋͜͝͝o̶͚̝̮͆f̴͔͈͙͆̅͜ ̴̡̬̞͛͗͑̓͘ä̶̡͚̙̺́̃n̴͎̬͎̏͝ ̶̤͋̆̄͑̚a̵̺̓̕͠n̴̜͒́͋̇͝g̸̡͚̾̊̎͂̾ẽ̸͓͑̎͝l̵̜̰̂͌͊͐́ ̵̢̨̠͚̆̿͜t̴͎͙̣͓̼͊h̶̫͍̅͌ȇ̵̘͇̣̑̍̾͘ ̴̝͉̼͔͕̿l̵̢̙̋̃̃͋̚o̸͈̼͍̖͛ͅs̶̢͍̫̜̩͂s̸͚̉̓̅̄ ̵̡̤̘͊̈̀͆o̵̬̜͍̓̉͑̚̕f̵̰͌͊̽̈̓ ̶̘̣̔ä̸͎͇͉͓̤ ̷͙͆͗͗d̷̳̄͝ȇ̴̹̩̎̏̔͘m̶̜̹̎o̶̧̦͉̼̿̄̈́n̸̩͕̳͑͌͋̽.̷̣̘̟̞͎̉̈͆͝͠
                          
̶̛̹̺̃̈́F̵̞͋͑̃̃͝o̶̤̙̯͍̿ŗ̶̣̆́ȩ̵̛̻̥̠̟̿͋ṽ̸̘͚̯e̸̡̹͚̼̳͂͂͝r̷͖̻͒͜ ̶͇̼̅͑̕s̵̻̯̥̐̈́̐́̈́ö̶̧͚́̀̔́̓u̸̠̽̀̏̌͘ḷ̴̠͌̂l̴͖̗̔̓͐e̵͈̲͇̒̎̾̕͠s̷̺̎ŝ̴̬̙̥̒̈́̿,̷̱̎̍̆̋ ̵̛͍̜̭̈́̈į̷͔̎̊͜n̵͇͆̋f̶̬͖̌̔̔͗e̴̡̩̦͑̃c̷̟̫̭̃͊̑͂̍ẗ̷̬̟̘̰̺͒̂̓ ̵̜̍t̷̻̊͗͠ḧ̵̯̱́͜i̷̧̘̝̱̎̎̓͘͜͠s̴̥̮͐̆̾
                          
̴͈͖̖̞̤̽̋p̶̛̱̯͎̬͊ò̷̜̗̽̋w̶̧͙̌ë̸̮͓͕́̓ṙ̵̺̬͎̔͜ ̶̯̯͍̠̪͂ẃ̵͔̼̃ï̸͙̻͋̍͒t̴̮͒͛͐͂ͅh̶̨̰̯̼̱̄̏̏̇͝ ̵̡͔͒ă̶̄̈́͑ͅl̶̢̜̚l̵̤̞͎̄̋ ̶̛͉̰̪͎̙̑̀p̴̛̠̠͝a̶̳͌̍̕͠͝ỉ̴͖͕̝̽̋̉n̸̫̞̦̔͐͜͜ ̴̺̗͓̞̽͑̾̀̎a̸̰͒̀͛̈̈́n̶̨͖̐̅͝d̵̛͎̖̙ ̸̥͇̺̗̳͆m̸̮͇̹̣̑͋͠î̵̭̱͌s̴͓̞͉͐̋͜e̸̢̊r̴̯̳͐̑͆y̷̡̖̰̮̯͊̀͊͠͠
                          
̶̧̦͉̐́̋͂i̶̤̖̬̇̓̏̀͝ͅn̴̨͍͕͌̋͛f̶̦̖̮̭͒̌͂̃̚l̴͇̟͚̅́̑̿͘į̶͎͐̏͆͘c̴͍̑ṱ̶̖͉͗̈́͜ ̵̥̥̺̾͋́a̴̙̜͊l̸͍̀̓̂l̵̛̪̾ ̵̧̯͎̈́́̽̓͌d̵̢̻̪̙͒̓ȩ̴̦͉̜͕̈́͊̆̒̀a̶̱̯͇͗͂t̷̟̬̔͊̆͝h̸̢̻̙̗͊̆͛ ̷̰̬̳͊̾̄͋̒ͅi̷̖͊̍n̶͍͛̋͆͐̚f̸̞̹̝̓l̴͇̼̄̍͂̑̃i̷̗͎͒c̴̳̉̈́̓̽͠t̵̫͛̄ ̸̪̆͝ḟ̵̢̻̟̝̐́͝o̵̻̍̓̋̃͝r̶̯͍̤̺̀̄̈͗ ̷̫̖͙̫̉̀̐h̴̼͙̦̄͌̅̌ͅé̴͇̙̟̩̼̋̀,̴̡͕͐̊ ̵͖̤̎͗̑̽w̸̫͈͇̺͉̅̄͘h̴̢̼͎̲͇͋̓̅ô̸͕̘̥̆
                          
̴̘̖̲̀c̷͓̻͓̤̎o̶̰͉̠̘͍͋́̕̚n̴͙͉̐̈́̃͗t̵̲̤̳̣̜͆̽̈a̶̡̡̤̣͖̅̉̕ȋ̶̩̯̮͍͚͒͋͗̓n̴̦̦̻͋̔̓̐̐s̸̯̑ ̴̐̂̐̈̕͜t̸̮̍ḩ̶̻̗͚̈́̈͆é̶̘̫̣͈̥͌̏̚ ̷̭̖̝͌̾̋̂͜͝b̸̞̤͔͐̉̚ľ̷̘̥̫̟̔̏ǫ̸̦̑̒͐̅͊ơ̸̺̟̣͎͛̏̏d̴̥͕͚́͊͋͋ͅͅ ̷̢̑̊̿͘ö̸̖̩̱́͊̋͜f̸̜̏͝͠ ̷͇̲̬͙̌͜͝t̴̯̰͚͋h̶̯͇̟̫̖̾̀͆e̶͎̲͓̐̓̑͆͝ ̴̻̤͘
                          
̷̨̱̟̒A̷͔͈͋̽̚n̵̦͓͛̏̑ͅt̴̻̯͕̻͖͑ḭ̴̤͈͍̼̔-̴̡̰͑́c̷̥̟͗̌̋̈́͂h̸̝̹̲̾̈́r̵̬̪̙̠̫̚ḯ̶̘͈̠͖̒͆͌̄s̸̨̛͚̤̮̤̔̆t̷͕̤͔͙̗̍͝ " 
                          
I finish the chant with a diligent smirk, as the wings slowly dissolve into dark, dimly colored ashes. The withering marred scales smelt like burning flesh. And Stale milk. 
                          
The flame has no culture, no pity, no mind, yet it consumes whatever it pleases. Its only criteria is if it can take it and reduce it to ash or something molten and foul, then it will. The flames burn hot, short and violent, with no care what will be left behind. 
                          
I sweeped the ashes together and placed them all in a small bottle. The ashes soon would glow, an orange tint of gold. "You're not really going to drink that are you??" My servant asks once more, and I easily ignore him. glaring daggers his way. 
                          
I tilted my head back, allowing the bottle to spill it's contents into my mouth. The ashes descended into my throat, sizzling in its aftermath. 
                          
A scalding pain enters my bloodstream, heat practically bursts from my chest. I offer a deranged smile as my Servants gasp surrounding me. 
                          
Sharp pain lanced through my head and colorful spots flashed in front of my eyes, it felt like my whole body had been beaten and every movement caused some muscle or bone to ache.
                          
I look down at my arms. My skin slowly melted like candle wax revealing blood red scales developing against my thick muscles.Searing fiery bursts pulsated around the wound, intensifying with each dragging step, jarring and brutal.
                          
With each step the pain amplified, the bloody muscle quivered, my consciousness ebbed. Black mists swirled at the edges of my mind drawing me into sweet oblivion.
                          
Blood was slowly oozing out of numerous wounds in my face and arm- A small but relentless flow of crimson, but however, I felt no pain.
                          
~Marcy
                          
Our footsteps echoed sharply as we made out way down my long winding hallway. The sound would echoe loud in my ears, like the booming heartbeat of a condemned prisoner.
                          
although I was lost in thought Lucifer just kept picking at my priceless artifacts. 
                          
Though many items have lost their lustre, they stand with all glory and pride intact. Coats of patina embrace stone and copper sculptures like the varnish of age and wisdom.
                          
"You really are quite the collector are you." Lucifer comments, taking in the sight of my Pentecostal coins hanging on my wall. "Don't touch those." I tightened the tassels on my robe with a scowl. 
                          
"How many times must I explain I'm not a bloody goat." he hissed staring up at the goats head hanging on The door to another guest room. 
                          
I roll my eyes, "in my deminsion goats are Supposed to be some kind of demon. It was a ritual for my kind to hang goat heads around our home, the demon spirit feeds off your nightmares. As far as I know you don't exist where I'm from." I pursed my lips, pulling the door to my Bedroom open. 
                          
He seemed slightly shocked. I make my way around him, with a sigh. 
                          
"Just wait here, I've got to-
"It seems somethings missing on that hook right there." He points out interrupting me. I move my gaze over to the open wall, "those were where my wings were supposed to go. some petty Human decided to steal them. I thought I'd be able to track him down by now, but I was wrong." My voice fell calm but my tone was flat.
                          
 "Your wings?" He questions. 
                          
I turned around, and dropped the robe Just enough to reveal the scars in my back from when they were torn off. 
                          
"Unlike you, my wings were forcibly torn from my body." I slid the robe back on. 
"You were going to mount your own wings?" He questions sitting on my bed. "In my Bedroom yes, I needed to keep an eye on them." 
He scoffed. "My wings, are not only Proof of real divinity, but a curse nonetheless. Literally." 
                          
He seemed speachless. I only smirked, closing the bathroom door from behind me. I looked in the mirror, at my Pale complexion. I glared at myself, "what the hell have I gotten myself into." I snarled. 
                          
~
                          
After I was dressed, in my usual attire, I followed Lucifer to his slick black 62, corvette. He gave me a weary glance, almost as if begging for a compliment. 
                          
I only sigh and glance out the window. Gazing straight ahead, only half-aware of a world outside the claustrophobic comfort of the car, of Lucifer's hands stroking the wheel, the almost soundless changing of the gears, the pattern of traffic lights. 
                          
"So you can't exactly fall for my devilish games considering the fact that you can easily use that against me. I can only whole-heartedly ask... what is it you desire?" He interupts the defining silence with a rather foreboding question. I hesitate before finding the right answer. 
                          
"What is my desire?" I chuckle sliding a flask out of my coat. I take A long swig, smirking to myself. "I really am being serious." He says giving me a Dry glance. Finally I decided to reply. 
                          
"I want my daughter back."
                          
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A/N: JEEZ lUIEEZ I'm so sorry it's taken me so bloody long to update lolol. I've been working really hard on this story; trying to make it sound good. Thank you sooooo much for reading this far! Know that I haven't given up! I have ALOT of awesome plans for this fanfic and I hope to see you guys again next chapter! XOX 
-KrazyGhostwriter