Chapter 10
Raziel lay sprawled across the velvet couch in the dimly lit sitting room, the flickering candlelight casting long, soft shadows across his chiseled face. His eyes were closed, his breath even, but beneath that calm exterior, a storm of unease churned relentlessly. This wasn't his world. He had no reason to linger among humans, especially not to guard one as fragile and irritatingly unpredictable as Selena.
He should've been back in the Underworld, commanding legions and fulfilling his roles . Yet… he stayed.
Why?
The question clung to him like the scent of blood in battle. Then it came to him—a voice, soft yet firm, echoing in his mind like an unwanted melody.
"Dr. Vale spent a whole month trying to save your life... and you have the audacity to be heartless?"
It was Lilly, the blonde nurse. Her words hit deeper than he'd like to admit. Tch. Raziel snorted softly, annoyed at the emotional tug.
So, that was it… guilt? No, it couldn't be. Maybe—
His eyes snapped open, the pupils thinning like a predator's.
A presence...
Without a sound, he vanished.
---
Outside the Mansion
The air was thick with silence. A burly man in black moved like a shadow through the yard, a butcher's knife glinting beneath the moonlight. His face was covered, but his intent was clear.
Suddenly, his steps froze.
Standing ahead of him, like a phantom born of darkness, was Raziel—his tall frame still, his red eyes glowing with fury.
"Tell me—who sent you?" Raziel asked, his voice eerily calm, the kind of calm that made men pray.
The assassin chuckled, gripping the knife tighter. "So you're her bodyguard. Impressive senses… but now you die."
He lunged, the knife moving at an inhuman speed—aimed directly for Raziel's neck.
CLANG.
It stopped. Inches from his skin.
The blade hovered, caught in an invisible force. Not magic. Not air. Something darker.
The assassin's eyes widened in disbelief.
Raziel tilted his head. "Do you humans have any idea what you're dealing with?"
A tremor ran through the assassin. Survival instincts kicked in, and he bolted into the shadows.
Fool.
Without even moving, Raziel flicked his fingers.
The assassin's own knife shot through the air, faster than a bullet—and sliced clean through his neck.
His head fell with a sickening thud.
Raziel turned away, voice low, "If you won't talk… I'll just ask the second one."
And just like that, he vanished.
---
Selena's Bedroom
Selena's eyes fluttered open at the whisper of presence. She turned—and gasped.
"Raziel? Is that you?"
But he didn't answer.
He was staring at the assassin by the window, who had already pulled the trigger.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Time slowed. Raziel stepped forward.
His arm wrapped protectively around Selena, pulling her into a tight embrace.
The bullets hovered midair, frozen in time like silver droplets. His crimson eyes blazed.
"You protected me for a month… I'll return the favor. A month—no more, no less."
Selena blinked, stunned. "You make it sound like a contract…"
"Sleep now," Raziel whispered gently, his voice wrapping around her mind like a lullaby laced with ancient compulsion.
She collapsed softly into his arms, asleep before she hit the pillow.
He tucked her in, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. Then turned to the trembling assassin outside the glass pane.
"I have business to handle."
And then he was gone.
---
The assassin stumbled backward as Raziel appeared before him like a phantom from hell.
"W-What are you…?"
Raziel's eyes gleamed. "Me? I'm a demon."
The sniper swallowed. This had to be a trick—demons weren't real. Were they?
"I… I can't tell you who sent me."
Raziel gave a small smile. "Then perhaps… torture will help loosen your tongue."
The world twisted.
---
The assassin screamed.
He was shackled to a molten iron pillar, his skin blistering from the heat. Around him was a cavern made of dark stone, dripping with blood and fire. Raziel stood before him, shirtless, wielding a whip forged from intense heat.
The first crack of the whip tore skin from bone.
The second burrowed into his very soul.
Then came the claws—dark shadows that crawled under his skin, whispering nightmares in a tongue that made his heart seize.
Raziel's calm voice echoed through the screams.
"Let me know when you're ready."
There was fire—then ice. The assassin's nerves were scorched and then frozen, breaking apart only to be healed again, just to start over.
Then came the visions—he saw himself buried alive, eaten by crows, reliving every death a thousand times.
Time had no meaning. Minutes became days. Days became years.
Finally… silence.
---
The assassin collapsed on his knees, coughing blood, his mind shattered from the agony.
Raziel stood, his presence unshaken. Calm. Collected. Eternal.
"Care to talk now?"
Shaking, the man reached into his coat, pulled out a hidden dagger—
And slit his own throat.
Raziel stared, eyes narrowing in disappointment. "What a stress…"
The assassin's lifeless body fell back.
Raziel vanished again.
---
Back in Selena's Room
She slept peacefully, her breath slow and soft, oblivious to the carnage the night had brought.
Raziel stood by the window, watching her.
"One month," he whispered. "And this will be over…"
As if trying to convince himself that the time would pass quickly.
---
The Morning After
Sunlight filtered through the curtains as Selena stretched, blinking at the warm light. Her mind drifted to last night—Raziel, holding her, whispering that strange promise.
What came over him…?
She walked into the sitting room.
There he was—sitting like he owned the place, casually sipping coffee and flipping through a book, as if he hadn't just painted the night red with blood.
"Good morning," Selena said as she stepped into the living room, adjusting the strap on her bag.
"Good morning, love," Raziel replied without lifting his eyes from the book in his hand. His voice was calm—too calm—and as flat as the pages he was reading.
Selena blinked, a faint blush touching her cheeks. But that warmth quickly cooled. Love? The way he said it—it wasn't affectionate. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't even casual. It was clinical. Almost like he was reciting a label. Like he was calling her by a placeholder name. No emotion. No smile. Just… "love."
She sighed and made her way into the kitchen.
A few minutes later, the smell of freshly cooked eggs, toast, and slightly burnt bacon wafted through the air.
"I made breakfast," she said without turning around.
"No need," Raziel said dryly. "Demons don't need to eat."
But moments later, a crunch was heard.
Selena peeked over her shoulder. The stoic demon who had so easily rejected her cooking was now eating… and eating quite well.
When he finished the plate, she asked with a hopeful smile, "So… how's my cooking?"
Raziel nodded thoughtfully. "I'll give it… five percent."
"FIVE—"
Her eyebrow twitched so hard it could have snapped off.
---
On the Way to the Hospital
Selena, still fuming internally, tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Care to tell me what you meant by protecting me for a month?"
"I meant exactly what I said," Raziel answered, his eyes watching the city pass by through the car window.
"You'll protect me for a month because I took care of you for a month? That's it?"
"Yes. No more. No less."
Selena frowned. The words were cold, but the intention behind them—it stirred something deeper. She knew her life was in danger. But the question that weighed on her wasn't what was threatening her. It was why.
Why her?
---
At the Hospital
The moment they stepped inside, whispers began to ripple through the corridors. Staff members who used to greet Selena politely now stared with barely concealed awe.
"Is that him?" someone whispered.
"Yes, he really looks like a fairy just like the rumors said."
"Where did she find him?"
It wasn't Selena's fame causing the stir. It was the enigma beside her— her popular mysterious boyfriend.
Selena tried to act normal, walking briskly to her office, but the tension hung in the air like perfume.
"Okay. Bye for now, love," Raziel said flatly.
"Wait—" she turned.
He was gone.
Selena stared at the empty air where he'd just stood, her hand still slightly raised. "I really need to tell him to stop calling me that… love."
---
Meanwhile, in what appeared to be a kingdom disguised as a playground, Raziel sat on a wooden bench, scanning the area.
He didn't have to look long.
At the center of the chaos sat King Theo, the self-proclaimed ruler of all children. Wearing a golden toy crown that tilted sideways on his head, he lounged on a makeshift throne made from stacked mats. In front of him, a long line of kids bowed like loyal subjects. In exchange for their respect, they received candy or toys—rewards dictated by how low they bowed and how dramatically they praised him.
Theo clapped his hands. "Next!"
One of his 'bodyguards' leaned in and whispered, "Your Majesty, funds are running low."
Theo's cheerful face darkened. "Tch… If I keep this up, I won't have money for Shawn's deluxe food set tonight."
Just then, a shadow fell over him.
"We're done for the day. You can come back tomorrow," Theo said with exaggerated regality, not bothering to look up.
"Hey, kid."
The word kid made Theo freeze. He jumped to his feet, pointing dramatically. "Who are you calling a ki—" He stopped mid-sentence, recognizing the figure.
"Oh! It's you! Grand Brother!"
As if on cue, every child dropped to one knee.
"ALL HAIL THE KING'S GRAND BROTHER!" one yelled.
"LONG LIVE THE GRAND BROTHER!" the others chanted.
Raziel blinked. "This is… absurd."
---
Minutes later, the demon sat on a nearby bench beside Theo.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Raziel groaned inwardly, pressing two fingers to his temple as he watched Theo—self-proclaimed 'King of the Playground'—munch on another pack of crisps like it was his royal banquet.
"This human boy is truly unbearable…" Raziel muttered, eyes twitching as Theo loudly crunched and laughed at his own nonsensical jokes. "Why do I even spend time here?"
As if on cue, Theo spouted another string of absurd sentences that didn't belong in any language Raziel had ever heard—ancient or modern. Raziel stood, ready to vanish into thin air and reclaim some sanity.
But—
"Wait!" Theo said quickly, throwing up both arms like a magician blocking the final act. "I'm not done!"
Raziel narrowed his eyes. "Why do I feel like… you're stalling me for something?"
Theo's grin widened in a way only deviant masterminds and sugar-fueled children could manage. "Not something, grandbrother—someone."
Before Raziel could speak, a soft but calculated sound of heels clicking echoed across the playground path. His eyes turned cold the moment the presence stepped into view—a tall, graceful woman draped in a black silk dress that shimmered under the sunlight like shadows come to life.
"Helen," Raziel said with a sigh. "Of course."
The woman smiled slyly, tilting her head as she approached. "You disappeared yesterday without saying a word."
"I had something to do," Raziel answered flatly, his tone distant. He didn't owe explanations—even to one of the infamous 'Big Four.'
Helen raised a brow but chuckled. "Fine, then allow me to make an offer. Become my bodyguard—full-time. I'll pay you handsomely, of course."
"No."
Helen blinked.
The rejection came instantly, sharp and unbothered. "One human is already enough stress. Two? I'd rather die."
But Theo, ever the little schemer, jumped up from his throne of blankets and cardboard. "PLEASE! A king must never bow to anyone, but I bow before you to show how much Helen needs you!"
The dramatic performance might have worked on anyone else, but Raziel simply stared. "I'm not amused."
Minutes of ridiculous pleading, fake tears, and emotional manipulation followed until—somehow—Raziel found himself nodding, defeated.
"…Just for a month."
"How bad can living a human life get in thirty days?" he muttered under his breath.
It turns out—very bad.
For thirty long days, Raziel's life followed a schedule that drained his patience and tested every ounce of restraint in his bones.
He'd follow Selena to the hospital, acting as a silent guardian—then escape to the park for some quiet, only for Theo to ruin it with stories of how the Kingdom of Playtime declared war on ants. Afterward, he'd shadow Helen through high-stakes social functions, threats, and weird spa appointments, and finally end the day walking Selena home.
Every night, as he sat in the shadows of her living room while she read quietly on the couch, he'd curse his luck.
Why was he—a once-feared being of power—now entangled with humans?
But the month wasn't uneventful.
Assassins came—silent killers cloaked in darkness and cursed steel—and Raziel slaughtered each one with chilling precision. Yet the question remained: who wanted Selena dead?
The city buzzed with rumors, strangers whispered, reporters speculated. People demanded to know when Dr. Vale—the elusive, untouchable genius—would wed her mysterious boyfriend. "These humans are insane," Raziel muttered.
Selena, despite his attempts to remain cold, was drawing closer. Her smile was warmer. Her eyes lingered. She laughed more when he was around—and something about that laugh began to echo in Raziel's head when he was alone.
Then came the most absurd event of all.
Helen—powerful, flawless, terrifying Helen—stood before him and confessed her love.
He didn't hesitate.
"No," he said.
"No?" she blinked.
"There's no reality where I choose a human as my mate." Raziel thought.
She didn't argue. She just smiled, one of those mysterious smiles only dangerous women knew how to pull off.
---
Now—
Selena's car hummed as they rode through the quiet streets. She glanced at Raziel, who seemed lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the passing world.
"What are you thinking?" she asked gently.
He turned to her, calm as ever. "Today is the last day. Our contract ends. I've protected you for one month—just like you did for me."
Selena turned away quickly, hiding the small sadness creeping into her chest. She wanted to say something, anything to make him stay. But she didn't want to be selfish.
"I see," she whispered. "Then… attend the ceremonial party with me this noon. One last thing."
Raziel nodded without a word and vanished in an instant.
Even after all this time, she still wasn't used to that.
Her phone buzzed. A message.
> We shall be returning to the Sotheen Region soon, sister.
Love you, from Little Jane.
Her heart skipped. It had been so long since her relative left. Were they really returning?
She looked at the empty seat where Raziel had sat just moments ago.
"…Maybe," she whispered, "I won't feel so lonely after all."
_ _ _
The playground, usually filled with laughter, was quieter than usual. The rusty swing creaked in rhythm with the breeze, the grass beneath it untouched today. Raziel appeared, as he often did, in his usual second location—his momentary escape from the chaos of human drama. But something felt… off.
Perched on the far end of the slide sat Theo, the self-proclaimed "King of the Playground." But today, he bore no crown. His usual mischievous grin was gone, replaced with a pout of sorrow.
Raziel narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with you now?" he asked, tone as indifferent as ever.
Theo sniffled, rubbing his snot-covered sleeve across his nose. "I… I've been dethroned!"
Raziel blinked once. "Dethroned?"
Theo's eyes shimmered with tears. "A new kid came to the playground. And get this—he had a limited-edition comic book, one that hasn't even hit stores yet! He said anyone who wants to read it must call him King. And those traitors—my people!—they followed him without hesitation. Just like that! Years of rule, gone…"
He wailed dramatically, his cries echoing around the quiet playground.
Raziel shook his head. "Human kids are insane."
Still crying, Theo looked off toward the distance and mumbled through his sniffles, "I'm so heartbroken I think I saw an old hospital van head toward the abandoned part of town."
Raziel's head slowly turned in the direction Theo pointed.
"Don't go there, Grand Brother," Theo said, grabbing Raziel's coat. "That place is dangerous…"
Raziel patted the boy's head. "That's exactly why I'm going."
And with that, he vanished.
"Wait did he just vanish." Theo thought before grinning again "A wizard, Cool."
_ _ _
In an abandoned hospital once bore the colors of joy—bright blues and reds smeared across its walls like a child's dream. But now, decay gnawed on every surface. Peeling paint curled like dying petals, and the air was thick with the scent of mildew, blood, and something sourer… despair.
Inside, the main room had been repurposed into something grotesque.
A surgical chair sat in the center, blood-stained restraints still fastened. Surgical tools lined the old counters, some with rust, others freshly cleaned.
Dr. Langston stood near the cracked window, trembling as he looked over his shoulder at the figure behind him—Reaper, the leader of the assassin guild. Dressed in jet-black combat armor, a half-mask covering his jaw, Reaper exhaled smoke from the cigarette between his lips.
"You've failed me. Again." Langston's voice cracked as he spoke. "Why isn't she dead yet?!"
Reaper's gaze darkened. His voice came out like rolling thunder, slow and lethal. "Shut. Up."
Langston flinched.
"I've lost twenty of my men. Twenty. And you think I enjoy failure?" Reaper stepped forward, smoke trailing behind him like a shadow. "Someone's protecting her."
"That's not possible!" Langston said, desperate. "She only has one person with her! A boy who barely speaks!"
Reaper's eyes narrowed. "You expect me to believe someone can kill twenty of my men alone."
Langston took a step back, nervously tugging at his coat. "W-what do you want me to do?"
"Lure her. A remote area. My men will end it. This time, we leave nothing but ash."
Langston nodded shakily. "Yes. Of course."
But then—BOOM!
The entrance exploded inward. The reinforced door cracked in two as two of the bodyguards stationed at the front were sent flying like broken puppets. Smoke and dust filled the hallway.
Out of the haze stepped a figure—tall, poised, terrifying in his stillness. A black overcoat flowed around him like midnight mist, with a crimson dragon insignia etched boldly across the back. Eyes glowing faintly red, he looked like death given flesh.
Dr. Langston's voice failed him.
"Finally…" the figure said.
Raziel's voice echoed in the chamber like a spell.
"…I've finally found the root of the problem."
He walked forward, every step like a drumbeat of judgment.
Langston took another step back, bumping into the surgical table.
Raziel's gaze moved across the room. "How ironic… assassins hiding in a place meant to heal. Fitting for cowards."
"You…" Reaper said slowly, tone unreadable. "You've been the one stopping my men."
Raziel lifted his hand and clenched it into a tight fist.
He then face all the assassin, his eyes glowing red.
"Let's see you try to kill someone…" His voice was deathly calm. "When you're all dead."
To be continued.