A Demon's confession and prayer

The bells of the old church chimed softly in the afternoon wind, their echoes brushing against the peaceful air. Levi stood just outside the grand wooden doors, side-eyeing Zyren with a mischievous grin as the demon fidgeted nervously beside him. His usually cool, mysterious aura had dissolved into something close to a scared puppy.

"You really don't have to come in if you don't want to," Levi teased.

Zyren shot him a glare. "You think this is funny? That old man said he wants to talk to me. Like some kind of divine intervention. I should be running."

Levi chuckled under his breath. "But you're not. That's the progress, demon boy."

With a deep, shaky breath, Zyren stepped into the church, the holy air hitting him like a wall of divine pressure. His shoulders tightened, fingers twitching. The crosses hanging above the pews looked bigger than last time. Were they always this... intense?

Father Benedict, the warm-hearted priest with a long beard and a permanent smile, welcomed them with open arms.

"Ah! Levi, you're back!" He looked to Zyren. "And you brought your... interesting friend. Come, come. Let's talk."

They moved to a side chamber with stained glass windows, and the moment they sat down, Father Benedict's smile softened into something more curious.

"I wanted to ask," he said gently, folding his hands. "Your reaction the other day, son… when we prayed. You trembled. Like someone who's witnessed war, or maybe someone... carrying a great burden." He leaned in. "Are you a murderer?"

Levi's lips twitched hard—he almost laughed, but managed to disguise it as a cough.

Zyren's jaw clenched. He looked away, shame flickering in his demonic eyes.

"I've done terrible things," Zyren muttered. "I've taken souls, haunted dreams. I've dragged people to hell... even when I didn't want to. I'm not just a murderer, Father. I'm a demon."

Father Benedict paused, studying Zyren carefully. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. A deep, heartful laugh that confused Zyren even more.

"My boy," he said, "even if you were the devil himself, if your heart seeks redemption, you can be forgiven. That's what grace is. Come to church—consistently. Listen. Learn. You may find something deeper than fear. You may find peace."

Zyren blinked. "You're... not scared of me?"

"I've faced worse than fear," Father Benedict said, eyes twinkling. "I've faced hopelessness. And if you're here, it means you haven't given up yet." he added thinking zyren was exaggerating by calling himself a demon.

Zyren sat there in silence. And then, slowly, like a ghost whispering through mist, he nodded. "Okay... I'll try. I'll come. But..." He turned to Levi, panic suddenly returning. "Don't tell Jarvis or Jaceon. If they find out I'm going to church, they'll eat me. Literally. Slowly. With sarcasm and fire."

Levi grinned wide and gave a thumbs up. "Your secret's safe with me, holy devil."

Zyren groaned. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Levi leaned closer. "Only because I got it on video last time. I'm building a montage."

Zyren buried his face in his hands. "I hate you."

"Too late" Levi responded with a smile.

Days passed and zyren started going to church secretly with Levi.

It became his little secret and hoped to never get caught.

It had become a ritual for Zyren—every Sunday morning, just before dawn, he would quietly sneak out of the apartment he shared with Jarvis and Jaceon, keeping his demonic aura as low as possible. He'd wear a hoodie, sunglasses, and even human cologne to mask his scent. The church had become a place of strange comfort for him. The scent of candles, the calm hymns, and Father Benedict's words didn't burn like fire anymore. They soothed him.

He would sit in the back pew, head bowed, muttering prayers with uncertainty in his voice, but sincerity in his heart. Sometimes he cried quietly. Other times, he just stared at the altar in silence, wondering if someone or something was really listening.

But Zyren had gotten too comfortable. Too careless.

One quiet evening, he stood alone in his room, lights off, kneeling on the cold floor, palms clasped together as he whispered softly under his breath:

"Dear God… if you really are there. If you really watch over this world… I don't want to be a monster anymore. I didn't ask to be born like this. I didn't want to—"

Click.

The light flicked on.

Zyren froze. His eyes widened as his head slowly turned around.

Standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with an unreadable expression, was Jaceon.

Zyren slowly dropped his hands.

A beat of silence passed.

"...Hey," he croaked.

Jaceon raised an eyebrow, stepping into the room with the slow, deliberate grace of someone who'd just stumbled upon a secret he wasn't supposed to find.

"Zyren," Jaceon said calmly, but with a dangerous edge in his voice, "do you know any demons… in Heaven?"

Zyren blinked, confused. "Uh… no?"

"Exactly." Jaceon folded his arms. "Then explain to me… why the hell you've been praying?"

Zyren tried to smile it off, waving his hands. "Oh! That? That was just… I was practicing for a role. Yeah! You know, like a play. I saw this movie about angels and thought I'd—"

"Shut. Up."

Jaceon's voice dropped, his eyes darkening.

"You've been going to church."

Zyren's mouth opened, then closed again. He had no comeback.

"You idiot." Jaceon walked toward him, slowly. "You complete moron. Do you even realize what you're doing? You're drawing divine attention to yourself. You think God's going to throw you a halo? You're a demon, Zyren! A real one—not some soft, fantasy novel type."

"I know what I am!" Zyren snapped suddenly, voice cracking. "I know! You think I want to be like this? You think I enjoy stealing people's lives? I can't sleep! I hear them when I close my eyes. Their screams. Their faces."

Jaceon looked momentarily taken aback.

Zyren's fists trembled at his sides. "Maybe… maybe if I keep going. Maybe if I try hard enough, someone will forgive me. Maybe I can be more than this."

Jaceon stared at him in silence. Then let out a short, humorless laugh.

"You're delusional," he muttered. "You keep this up, and Jarvis will find out. She'll rip your heart out and make you eat it. Slowly."

Zyren's voice dropped into a whisper. "I know. That's why I didn't tell anyone. Not even Levi."

"Levi knows." Jaceon glared at him. "He's the one taking videos of your little hallelujah moments, remember?"

Zyren groaned, dragging his hands down his face.

"Look…" he mumbled. "I just want… something different. I'm tired of being the coward. The joke. The useless demon. At least this makes me feel like I still have a soul."

Jaceon looked at him, hard. For a moment, it seemed like he was about to lash out again—but something shifted in his expression.

He saw Zyren for what he really was: a demon who hated his nature more than humans ever could.

After a long silence, Jaceon turned away.

"If Jarvis finds out, I'll deny everything."

Zyren looked up in shock.

"I don't care what you do in your free time," Jaceon continued coldly. "But if it costs us a mission… or puts Levi in danger… I'll kill you myself."

Zyren nodded quickly. "I understand."

"And for the love of all things unholy," Jaceon added, "if I catch you singing gospel music in the shower again—I'm slitting your vocal cords."

Zyren smiled nervously. "Noted."

As Jaceon left the room, Zyren exhaled deeply, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

Maybe redemption wasn't completely impossible.

Maybe even demons… could find grace.