First Demonic Dragon

For Lucifer, everything seemed to go by in slow motion.

At one moment, his brother was standing above his son, a shocked expression on his face from failing to cut through the child with no more difficulty than if he were paper mache.

And then… in the blink of an eye, Michael was missing his head.

"The highlight of my life really was getting to kill you again. I told myself I would savor the experience this time around but it ended even quicker than the first time… Oh, why am I telling you this when you can't even hear me anymore?"

Michael's body fell over, and he dropped his sword.

The child could be seen holding his head- a permenant disbelieving expression on his face.

"You… What have you done..?" Lucifer's voice shook.

Perhaps the most closely guarded secret of the King of Hell was just how much he loved his brother.

Michael was his twin. They had come into creation together.

And despite their differences, Lucifer had hoped they would at least die together.

As he watched his brother's body hit the ground, Lucifer felt his entire world shatter.

He fell to his knees in horror. A tear of blood ran from his eye.

So what if he and Michael had tried to kill each other?

What did it matter if they disagreed on the purity of humanity?

His brother was still family. And family was an invaluable existence.

"Are you crying? Seriously?"

The child was kicking Michael's head back and forth between his feet like a soccer ball. He didn't even look down as he did it.

"You're embarrassing yourself here, father. You'll go to join him in just a moment, so why are you acting as if you are filled with such dismay?"

In just a short moment, Lucifer's grief changed into blind rage.

The veins around his eyes turned black. The floor cracked underneath him.

He rocketed forward, driven by a pure hatred and desire for retribution.

He could see nothing except this enemy inside a childish form.

And then he saw nothing at all.

Two halves of Lucifer split right down the middle landed on either side of the child.

The only other living being in the room was Igrat, who was so scared she had fallen to her behind and lost control of her bladder.

"So serious… I don't know how you stayed around him for all of this time." The child sighed.

He walked over to Igrat while leaving the dead bodies of the twins to attract flies.

Even though he was no bigger than the average height of a five-year old, his shadow seemed to dwarf Igrat and made it hard for the demoness to breathe.

This was true fear. An emotion she was well acquainted with, but also not used to experiencing.

Through chattering teeth, she managed to stammer out a question that had never been answered since his arrival. "W-What.. are you..? H-How did you..""

"I am your son. And I was born with a great many talents." The child shrugged.

Igrat shuddered again. She thought the child was just mocking her before she died.

Trembling, she lowered her head like a terrified fawn as she waited for death. Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire

The child set his jaw in place as he stared at her.

She didn't make any other moves. She didn't seem to be planning anything either.

As far as he could tell, she truly just seemed to be waiting for the end to take her just as it took her husband.

Her body suddenly felt heavier than it had a couple of seconds prior.

Feeling tired, she fell over onto the ground a moment later and seemed to drift into unconsciousness.

She was neither dead, nor alive, but perhaps somewhere locked in between.

How sentimental.

The child rolled his eyes at the mocking tone carried by a familiar voice.

"It brings me no fulfillment if she just lies there and accepts it. I have an acquired taste for death and dismemberment, you see."

Yes, yes. How could I forget?

The child rolled Igrat's limp body into a corner like a cat trying to hide it's poop.

When she was sufficiently out of sight, he turned around the large hall looking for a very particular item.

"Ah!"

His eyes sparkled as they settled on a large accent drum that looked like it was made from dried human flesh and bone.

He ran up to it excitedly, only to pause and look down at his hands. He had literally come here empty-handed.

He turned his head towards the mess he made and held out his palm. "I'm just going to borrow this, Unlce..."

Michael's corpse shifted.

A wet ripping noise resounded and his entire femur wrenched itself free from his left leg before flying towards the child's hand.

How morbid.

The child looked down at the bone in his hands with a sort of innocent expression. "Would the spine not have been more difficult to use?"

Even Chaos was stunned into silence at the sincere lack of normalcy or etiquette.

Gripping the femur like a baseball bat, the child swung with all of his strength and struck the drum dead in the center.

A booming noise rippled out and traveled beyond the walls of the palace and out into the seven layers of hell.

The child quickly ran to sit on his father's throne as figures started appearing on their knees.

But not just any figures. These were the Ars Goetia. The 72 princes and kings who lead the various legions of hell's army. (Mostly)

Half of whom rebelled against heaven with the fallen one, and were punished much more severely as a result.

They obediently came as soon as they were called, only to have their entire world turn upside down when they found their blindingly powerful lord and leader on the floor. Bisected.

"This..."

"M-Michael is here... Did they kill each other!?"

"They couldn't have! Such a battle would have torn the lower realm of heaven apart, yet I felt nothing!"

"This must be a joke... Somebody poke him! Make sure he's not pranking all of us!"

"As if I would dare disturb the king as he rests!"

"He might not be resting, Saleos!!"

The child tossed his hand in the air, inadvertently flinging the bone from his grip. "Hello- Oh, shit." He frowned.

All of the demons turned around in an instant. Their faces betrayed their internal stupefaction.

There was a child in hell.

Not just any child. A cute, human-looking one.

"What is the meaning of this..?"

"It's a baby..!"

The child waggled his finger. "Not just any baby, Stolas. Your new monarch!"

Demon jaws don't drop easily, but when they drop, boy do they stay there for a long time.

The child blushed bashfully. "Aww, shucks. Stunned speechless, huh? You all are far too kind. I knew you'd be happy to have me instead of that old fogey."

The demon who was supposedly next in line to succeed Lucifer, Baal, was a demon with the head of a toad, a man, and a cat.

He slowly pointed a finger at the deceased monarch who was still bleeding out all over the black floor.

"You... did this...?"

"It's not my finest work, but I didn't exactly have the time to make it all nice and spiffy for you guys like I wanted." The child looked embarrassed before shaking his head. "Oh, well. Even Van Goh wasn't perfect at first.."

"...Is that someone we should know?"

The child's eyes widened in realization as he slapped his head. "Ah, spoilers. It's so hard being around people who don't understand all of your great references."

The demons were very lost and very confused. But one thing was for sure...

"The king is dead! I declare my bid for ruler of Hell's 72 Legions and 7 Layers!" A demon raised his fist.

Before anyone else around him could object, he suddenly screamed out in horror as his flesh ripped and twisted around his fist.

He came flying through the air and crashed directly at the foot of the dark throne. The child's face was very unhappy.

His eyes had shifted to their real appearance. Showing everyone here that he in fact was nowhere near as cute as he seemed.

"Do you have any idea how rude you are being...? Your true king stands before you now and you mock him by declaring otherwise? You demons are supposed to be the smart ones, but it seems even you hardly have a brain between your ears..."

He stepped onto the face of the wailing demon like it was a rug and stared at the other 71 demons.

"Tell me... do any of you plan to embarrass me in the same way?"

All of the sudden, the demon he was standing on was shredded into pieces so fine you could put them through a pen head.

Demons are an unruly sort, that's true. But they all understand displays of power very, very well.

A wave of Princes, Kings, Earls, Dukes, and Presidents fell to their knees in front of the child.

Paimon, the wisest demon to ever draw breath asked a singular question without lifting his head to show sincerity.

"None will question your rule, My Dark Lord. May your new subjects please be aware of your glorious name so that they might spread it to every imp and archdemon within hell's gates?"

The child smiled.

But then that smile slowly faded when he realized that in these few years of life, he had neglected one very important thing that should have been obvious.

'Hey, Great Aunt... What's my name?'