The Devil Is Not a Beast, It’s Me

The villagers whisper as I pass. They speak of horns that scrape the sky and skin like charred wood, of a tongue that licks the blood from their doors like a starved vacuum. They say the Devil is a man-looking beast, a hulking nightmare of claws and shadow. They have never looked past their own fear. I have seen the Demon. I have seen the face of the beast they fear so deeply. It does not look hideous. It does not look like the nightmares they tell in the tavern. The demon is a woman. She is a beauty, a seductress draped in the grace of a fallen star. And I am that demon. My name is Astraea, and I have come home to watch them burn. Before I became Astraea, I was Lyra. It wasn't always this way. I remember the smell of jasmine and the sound of my sister’s laughter before my world began to fall apart. Back then, our home was a sanctuary of essential oils and pressed flower petals. Our father, Silas, owned the finest perfume shop in the city. His hands were always stained with the sweet residue of lavender,oud, and sandalwood. He smelled of fresh lilies, and he wore his craft like a badge of honor. I was only two when our mother passed, so Seraphina became my world. She was fifteen, and everyone in the city knew her name because she was the most beautiful girl within the city. She had long, silky brown hair that caught the sunlight like spun gold, and she possessed a kindness that radiated from her soul. Father would lean down, letting us test our latest concoctions on his sleeves. "You two are the best gift the earth has ever given me," he would whisper, I remember the laughter in the kitchen, the way he would hum music melodies while he prepared our meals, tossing spices into the pot with the same precision he used for his perfumes. He loved to cook for us, making simple stews feel like a feast for royalty. Then came the day my world came crashing down. Lord Vane, the Sheriff and also Governor’s only son, had set his sights on Seraphina. He was twenty-five, a man who moved through our village as if he owned the very oxygen we breathed. He had already lost three wives to mysterious deaths. When our father refused his demand for Seraphina’s hand in marriage, Vane began to abuse his power to make our lives a living hell. It happened at dusk. Two men in official uniforms descended upon our shop, "Silas," the lead guard muttered, "you are under arrest for commiting treason." Our father straightened his apron, wiped his hands, and looked at us with a calm, steady expression. "Stay here," he ordered. "Lock the door. Do not come out until the sun hits the horizon tomorrow." We obeyed. We sat in the dark, the scent of jasmine clinging to the curtains. We waited through the night. "Seraphina, when will Father be home?" I asked, my voice trembling. Seraphina pulled me into her lap, stroking my hair. "Don't worry, Lyra. Everything will be alright. He always keeps his promises," she reassured me, though her own hands shook. We waited until the sun rose by morning. We ran all the way to the station. "We are here for Silas," Seraphina said to the guard, clutching the hem of her dress. "He was taken last night by the Governor guards." The guard looked up from his ledger, rolling his eyes as he flipped a page, then another. "Silas?" he repeated. "There is no prisoner by that name registered. Perhaps you have the wrong station, little girls. Or perhaps your father has realized he’s a criminal and fled to save his own skin." "He didn't run" my sister muttered, tears rolling down her face. "He was indeed taken by the Governor’s men" "Go home," the guard grunted, waving a hand as if swatting away a fly. We spent weeks scouring the city, but our father was nowhere to be found. The vibrant streets that once felt like home now felt like a cage. We went to the market stalls, asking the merchants who used to buy our father's perfumes, but they only stared at their feet and retreated behind their counters the moment they heard Silas’s name. Every door was slammed in our faces. We were desperate, tired, and losing hope. "We have to go to the Governor’s house," Seraphina said, her voice firm despite the fear in her eyes. "No, Seraphina," I begged, pulling at her dress. "He is a bad man. We shouldn't go there." "We have no choice, Lyra," she insisted. "He is the only one who can tell us where Father is." We reached the Governor’s house, and the guards blocked our path. We stood there for hours, pleading with them until they finally allowed us inside. We walked through the grand hall, our boots echoing against the marble floors. Lord Vane descended the stairs. He stopped in front of us, wearing a smug, practiced look. "Seraphina, Seraphina," he scoffed, "To what do I owe this surprise? You look lovely today." Seraphina stepped forward, her chin held high, though tears began streaming down her face. "Where is our father, Lord Vane," she asked, her voice cracking. "We know you took him." Vane laughed. He walked slowly around us, his gaze lingering on Seraphina’s face. "Your father, he is being dealt with for his crimes against the Crown. But you know, Seraphina, I am a merciful man." He stepped closer, towering over her, "I will release him, but only if you agree to be my wife." Seraphina recoiled, shaking her head, "I will never marry you never you are a monster release my father he did nothing wrong." Haha, vane reached out, grabbing her waist and pulling her flush against his chest, "You don't get to decide, my dear," he whispered in her ear. "Leave my sister alone."