Work Text:
The devil isn't a little man with horns and a tail, he can be beautiful.
He took the form of a simple, cheery statue who once sat in an amusement park, loved by many. No one expected someone so pretty, so fragile, to turn out like this, to exist without empathy with a stare of a wild animal. His face was very fluid for someone made out of resin, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyelids closed and opened..
And his grin...
His grin was the most noticeable thing about this individual. His smooth way of walking and velvety words flowed nicely like a calm, peaceful river, and the tone he always had could make someone think he's almost like candy, sweet, easy to make you sick if you consume enough of it, but so addictive you cannot get enough.
There was a pep in his walk, clacking against the floors like he played his own body like an instrument, his entire behaviour one big, beautiful symphony, his voice the loudest instrument, a beautiful piece played by the most wicked of beings. It was obvious at first glance you'd be likely to find this man so perfect, so harmless...
Till you saw the fabric of his coat soaked with blood, staining the natural colours of the floor underneath his feet. What people thought to be a harmless, gentle smile was revealed to be a deranged smirk fuelled by bloodlust. A walking hyena, cackling at the others misery, letting his sword cut through flesh with ease.
His methods were brutal, he had no mercy, and yet he let each of his victims live their best moments before his facade was dropped, pleas for mercy and screams of 'Why, how' and 'What' falling onto deaf ears.
Each time, after he had his fun, he sat on top of a cliff in the dead of night, letting the moon illuminate his sillouethe while he gazed at the beautiful sparkling in the dark blue. The rough touch of his hands turning gentle just for a few hours, fingers wrapped around the bow that slid across the strings of his violin, a tune taking place instead of his voice. He played and played into the night, eyes closed as he let himself be at peace for once, those usually violent thoughts occupying his mind now kept behind some kind of wall the second he picks up his instrument, letting his thirst for revenge and 'justice' drip away.
Even the devil was once an angel, and he used to be gods favorite.