Down below

~Anyone ever told you not to trust the devil? Nothing good will ever come from it.~

Dan went upstairs and laid on his bed. He stared at the ceiling absentmindedly. Why did he feel so empty?

He rolled on his side and curled in on himself. It would soon be midnight.

"Daniel." Dan whispered. He rubbed his chest.

It hurt.

"I think I'm losing my mind."

"Why don't you have a glass of bourbon? That always seem to cheer you up, " the demon said.

"Or a glass of water, " his angel replied.

Dan faced his bed and buried his head under his pillow.

'Why can't I have peace of mind?'

"Can you please leave me alone?"

"You're obviously in distress, " his angel said.

"And rightly so, I'm meeting with my father, " Dan grumbled.

"He's not your father, " the angel said.

"Such blasphemy!" the grotesque-looking demon squealed.

"How dare you?!"

Dan groaned, he could feel an headache brewing.

'A million curses.'

He let out a breath.