In this series, the children of Lucifer and his wife Lilith each embody one of the Seven Deadly Sins. While it may be difficult to keep up with characters as we jump through time and point-of-view, here is a character guide to help you in your reading journey.
Ragnar ( sam ) : Oldest son and firstborn overall, five year older than our main character Willow. Named after Ragnar Lodbrok, the Norse Viking hero.
Alexander ( Charlie ) : Second son and second born overall, four year older than Willow. Named after Alexander the Great, Great ruler and conqueror.
Anne ( jennie ) : Oldest daughter and the third born overall, three years older than Willow. Named after Queen Anne of Great Britain, known for her I'll health and obesity, among other things.
Romeo ( Kai ) : Fourth son and sixth born overall, one year older than Willow. Named after Romeo Montague, the protagonist in Shakespeare's most well-known tragedy.
Elizabeth ( cleo ) : Third daughter and seventh born overall, a few months younger than Willow. Named after Elizabeth Bathory, Hungarian countess and serial killer.
PROLOGUE
Lucifer
I don't get paid en6for this shit. I don't get paid at all, really. Unless you count the blood sacrifices and other dumb shit the mortals are always doing to try and get my attention, which I don't.
Why did they collectively decide that the best way to worship me is through the blood of animals or virgins, anyway? I have no use for either of those things. Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if that dumb fuck archangel was the one to spread those rumors. Michael has always been such a pain in my ass.
Snapping out of my thoughts and back into the present, I watch as the sniveling cretin before me puffs out his chest to try and appear more intimidating. He's holding a severed chicken head in his right hand, while the headless chicken continues to run around the room before abruptly dropping to the pentagram-covered ground.
"You're not much, human, and you're cutting into my torturing time. What is so important that you went to such lengths to summon me?" I asked before he can get a word out.
It really is remarkable that he was able to summon me at all. Contrary to popular belief, most people who try to summon me end up dealing with lower-level demons. The disgusting little demon shits look scary enough to be the real bargain. Plus, humans are stupid and easily fooled.
"I so-called you here to make a ba-bargain," the pathetic sack of bones, blood, and flesh is able to stutter out, his earlier attempt at bravado over before it ever really began. With greasy brown hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, a stomach that protrudes far past the barrier of his cheap-looking polyester pants, a d enough body odor to kill an elephant, I can guess at what kind of bargain he is attempting to make.
"Not sure even / could help you in the looks department, mortal. You want a miracle, go find jesus. I hear he's good at those ".
I despise my younger brother. All he did was die and then come back to life, yet he get reversed by human for thousands of years. It's such bullshit.
"N-no. Looks are t-temporary and beauty is subjective, anyway. I want to be r-r-rich." At this point, the human finally drops the chicken head only to begin wringing his blood-covered hands.
"Fame,fortune, and beauty--the three most common wishes. You humans really never change. And what exactly would you offer in return for wealth that you desire? I can't imagine it'll be very enticing. "
"I would g-give you my soul."
That forces a laugh out of my throat, though it probably sounds more diabolical than amused. " just as I suspected----your soul is of no use to me . And, if you have nothing better to offer, then we're done here".
The human's brown eyes bug out in alarm, vaguely resembling a bloated corpse. He places his hands out in front of him as if to physically keep me from leaving. "W-wait, no! If my s-soul is useless to you, w-what about the life of my f-firstborn child? I've heard you're i-into that kind of t-things.
Somewhat offended that he's confusing me with Rumpelstiltskin, I'm slow to respond. "If the child is anything like you,then no".
"M-my daughter, she's barely a y-year old, but everyone say she t-takes after her mother. H-her mother is q-quite beautiful. I m-married up".
"And this beautiful wife of yours, she would be okay with her husband giving her child up to the Faustian in exchange for human money?
Objectively worthless pieces of paper? Last I checked, mothers are usually against that sort of things".
I don't really care about him or his wife. If you asked me seven year ago, I would say that I didn't really care about his daughter either. Alas, fatherhood changes a person, and having seven children of my own definitely changed me. As mortifying as it is to even think about, I now care about the wellbeing of children, even gross human ones.
"We n-need the m-money. she would u-understand, I'm sure".
If I thought he was sweating before,he is really sweating now.The human is like some kind of fucked-up science experiment with that sweat dripping all over the places. Surely, the scientific community should study him for the medical anomaly he must be.
I'm so distracted by his repulsive bodily functions that I don't respond for one long moment . Probably worried about the direction of my thoughts, the human start making a high-pitched keening sound in the back of his throat. He now resembles a beached whale and sounds like a dying cat. Truly, I do not get paid nearly enough for this.