Sancte Diaboli, Part One by Amo Jones

The Devil comes with baggage, and not the kind you can lose. I was two years old when he saved me. I didn’t understand much at that age, but I remember the pale boy with hair as dark as ink, saving me from two evils. He said he would protect me; I just didn’t know he meant from himself. I was raised in the arms of evil, tailored for the Devil like a custom Armani suit, and every day he wore it like a weapon. Brantley thought by keeping me locked in his manor that it would protect me, and it did.
Until it didn’t.

As I slowly adapt to The Elite Kings Club and the dark, sinister world that exists around the outlaws in suits, I come to learn that the monster everyone fears is the very same one I crave.

Like a prized trophy, I sit on his throne…
Something quite pretty, an object he owns…

The thing with porcelain is it’s fragile and delicate…
It would only take a second for me to eradicate it…