Hell’s Scion: My Magical Family Doesn’t Know I’m the Antichrist (Villain Protagonist Isekai)

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Chapter 1: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 1

When Sam blew out the candles on his second eighteenth birthday cake, the room burst into flames.

He staggered backward, away from the table. He knew it couldn't have something to do with the fire when it hadn't started there, but he didn't want to be near it anyway.

"Holy shit!"

But Sam was the only one to react.

The rest of his new family, those who were present anyway, were frozen as the flames spread through the room.

He knew that magic existed in this world, unlike the world he came from, along with many other strange things. But he was new here, so he didn't understand what was happening or what he could do about it. What a way to start his second chance, becoming an orphan after his family died in a fire just three days after arriving in this world.

He didn't love any of them, how could he? But that didn't mean he'd be better off alone.

Sam managed to calm down.

Because it took him a while, but he finally realized they weren't flames. Not really. Everything was being covered by a red curtain, but nothing was burning.

"What's going on here?"

He wished he at least had this boy's memories, the memories of the eighteen years he had missed in a crappy reincarnation. Maybe the boy, who creepily was also named Sam, would know what was happening.

His body screamed at him to run without looking back, but Sam stayed where he was, watching as the flames consumed the room.

The members of his new family disappeared before the flames touched them, like dust in the wind.

The floor, walls, ceiling, everything melted in a similar way. In the blink of an eye, Sam found himself in a completely different space. A dark void that gave the feeling it would swallow him as soon as he let his guard down. Apart from him, the only thing that existed in this void was a terrible cold that chilled him to the bone.

No, not just that. There was something out there. On the other side of the velvety curtain of darkness, there was definitely 'something'.

Sam didn't want to know what that something was. He already had enough headaches, but one thing was clear: whoever had brought him here hadn't bothered to put on that show just to take a look at him and send him back to the real world.

He just hoped that something wanted to talk, not tear him to pieces. He resisted the urge to swallow. Showing his fear wouldn't help him at all. It would be like bleeding in shark-infested waters...

Yeah, why not?

What told him that something on the other side of the darkness was the only shark in these dark waters?

The first thing he saw were its eyes.

Human eyes, except for their yellow glow.

"Sam. The time has come."

His heart raced.

He knew him. That is, the owner of this body did.

More things he should know about which he had no fucking clue. But this being didn't just do magic, it wasn't even a human being. That was more than obvious. If not for everything that had happened, with those yellow eyes...

Demonic.

It emerged from the darkness. It was a humanoid being with a completely normal appearance. Smooth, even elegant, in his narrow black suit and red tie. Really, the only thing that stood out were his yellow eyes, but that didn't stop Sam from feeling a chill. He told himself it was just from the cold of the environment. The cold of the deepest circle of hell. He didn't believe it.

"You must be wondering who I am, and it's very simple. I am Satan, the lord of hell. I am your true father."

Oh. Great.

It wasn't exactly what he had expected, but he supposed it made sense. It fit. He himself had been a businessman and done great evils for... Rather little, looking back. That had been his only regret at death's door.

"I've been eagerly awaiting your eighteenth birthday. Now that it has arrived, your powers will awaken. But, of course, that will cause danger to follow you everywhere. My son, you must destroy your false family, the Wrights. Otherwise, now that you are... different, they will discover you. And you will burn at the stake. Besides, it's a way for you to prove yourself. My position, my power, my fortune will pass into your hands. This is a succession ritual for your human and demonic inheritance. What do you say, son?"

What was he going to say? He had made it clear that he really had no other choice. He was none other than the Son of Satan, a seed of evil. It was easy to laugh at religious fanatics living in a world where all that was nothing more than a story in an old dusty book, but here they would set him on fire and with good reason. He was, basically, the damn Antichrist, wasn't he?

His life, the most precious thing in the world, was at stake.

So he would fight to survive. He would do anything not to waste his second life. It was the most natural thing for any human being. People could fill their mouths with ideals, but nobody wanted to die. Even suicides found regret after the rope bit their neck or they took the leap.

Actually, the most important thing was that it sounded like a great offer. His new family was stupidly large, but once all those noble mages were underground, he would have Satan's power. The position of the king of hell. He could go wherever he wanted, have whatever he wanted. Great power brought great freedom.

That would be a great way to redeem himself for the first life he had wasted. He didn't have to fill his head with dreams while living uselessly, he could go out and fulfill them one by one.

So, of course, when Sam turned to look at Satan, he was smiling from ear to ear.

"Sounds great to me, Dad." His eyes burned. They weren't tears, not at all, surely they glowed yellow like that man's, even if just for an instant. "When do we start?"

The Morning Star smiled back.

His second life truly began in that icy void.

A life of doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, however he wanted!

I Am the God of Hellfire; Part 1: END

 

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Chapter 2: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 2

Satan returned Sam to the real world.

The flames had only been an illusion. The furniture and curtains were perfectly fine, as were the attendees. They looked at him as if he had just blown out the candles on the cake. They hadn't noticed anything. That entire conversation had taken place in an instant.

If he didn't already know he was in a world of magic, he would think he was going crazy. Given the circumstances, he didn't doubt it for a moment. He had no reason to, and more importantly, he didn't want to. It was an exceptionally attractive offer. He had already considered himself lucky to have been born into a noble family and not a commoner family where he would die of misery before forty, but this went a step further.

"It seems like just yesterday I was changing your diapers," said a girl as she hugged him from behind. Her name was Violet. For her, he might be her little brother. For Sam, she was simply a pretty young woman with a nice pair of breasts. So, well, she could hug him from behind as much as she wanted. That's all he was saying.

Violet kissed him on the forehead. He had only been in this world for three days, so he couldn't say if it was genuine affection, but in any case he would enjoy the side benefits while they lasted.

"Violet, don't start talking about those things at my party."

He turned to look at her. She was definitely a beautiful girl. She wore one of her old elegant and tight dresses. Corsets might be bad for health, but it certainly did a good job of accentuating her natural assets.

Too bad I'm eighteen, he thought. Too old to "innocently" touch her breasts and get away with it. Well, my time will come. He had a lot of time ahead, countless opportunities.

"Don't cling to him so much either," said Christina, one of his numerous little sisters. The Wrights were a large family. Christina grabbed Sam's right arm and pulled him away from Violet. "You never knew how to share, big sister."

Violet simply smiled.

It was nice to be adored by a pair of beauties. Christina wasn't as well-endowed as her sister, but it was hard not to notice her attractiveness. Juicy lips and beautiful brown hair that fell over her bare shoulders. It was impossible to think of them as family.

My arm is brushing against them, he thought with a smile. Tiny breasts had their appeal too. After all, anything beyond what could fit in his hand was excessive.

"You're clinging quite a bit too," said Rose, drinking wine from a crystal glass. The wine was so thick it almost looked like blood. That's right. Soon he would have to start a bloodshed.

Sam clicked his tongue. He would have to discuss the terms further with Satan. It wouldn't be a problem if he kept some prizes, right? There shouldn't be any problem.

"I understood when he was little," Rose continued, "but you two still follow him around as if he were still an adorable baby. I really don't know what you see in him."

Rose was also a beauty. The Wright family, which would soon be significantly reduced in number, possessed good genes. Sam's body was also quite better than the one he had in his past life. He hadn't been ugly, but there was no comparison.

The most attractive thing about Rose, another of his older sisters, wasn't her gala dress, her sardonic tongue, or the fantastic behind that the dress could do little to hide.

It was her arrogance. The mere idea of subduing her excited him.

Well, he thought, all in due time.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Rose asked.

Sam's smile widened.

"For nothing, dear sister. But what do you think I'm thinking?"

Rose said nothing. She looked away and continued drinking. Too bad, he had hoped she would give him a sardonic response as usual. He supposed she wouldn't dare say what she was really thinking in a room with so many people. There were conversations everywhere, too much noise. Probably no one would notice, but still Rose preferred to bite her tongue.

Yes. Sam was thinking that she had noticed how he looked at her, despite them being siblings. That she had been the only one to notice.

"Forget her and let's enjoy the party," Violet said.

"That's just what I was going to say."

All in due time. Little by little.

The party continued.

Although they didn't necessarily hate him, most of the attendees felt they were wasting their time. He didn't need memories of his new family to realize that. Even the adults barely made an effort to hide it. He supposed it was because it was mainly a children's party. There were also a few adults from outside the family, hoping to rub elbows and climb the social ladder, but not many.

He spent most of the time with Violet and Christina, but he also forced himself to play his part in all this. Not because he was interested in making a good impression. He remembered the life he wanted to forget and the life he should remember was nothing but a big void. Three days had not been nearly enough to make up for lost time. He had a lot of work to do.

Rubbing elbows himself. Fortunately, Violet and Christina made it easy for him. They introduced him to complete strangers and dropped the names he should already know into the conversation. Without knowing they were helping him, of course, but it was useful nonetheless.

At this rate, he wouldn't have to come up with some artificial excuse like having lost his memory. Given the nature of this world, they might have some spell under magic to fix amnesia, anyway. His lips curved into a smile. It had amused him, but it was a good point. Too many things could turn into careless mistakes.

It was like he was walking through a minefield.

In this primitive world, mines probably didn't exist, but some bastard could make him explode with their mind, which he didn't see as an improvement.

Well, dad told me I would burn, he thought. But that's not the point.

Sam continued working to catch up.

When his birthday party ended, Sam retired to his room with his head full of big dreams. It was something he was used to, but there was an important difference now. He could see a clear path. He had plans, not mere dreams. He didn't need to dream when he could force reality to be as he wanted.

A familiar face appeared in the flames of the fireplace.

Satan, who else could it be?

It wasn't exactly the fire of hell, or the cold that had accompanied it in that void, but apparently it was enough. Sam relaxed, sitting on the bed. He was smiling like a child. He had known this would happen from the beginning. He had given him clear instructions.

"Well, father? What will be my first target?"

I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 2: END

 

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Chapter 3: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 3

"The housekeeper," Satan declared.

He knew her, if only by sight. Not that he cared who was first, but...

"Isn't she just a servant?" Although she could be an illegitimate daughter or something like that. "My mission is to kill the family."

"That's why she's an excellent first target. You haven't gotten your hands dirty yet, and no one will miss her even if you're a bit careless."

Sam nodded solemnly.

"I understand. Anything else I should know?"

"I don't care about the method you use to kill her, but make sure it looks like an accident. At least for now we have to act with utmost caution, my son."

He wanted to ask why he had stopped time at his birthday party and now he was talking to him from the fireplace in real time, risking someone might be listening behind the door or suddenly enter. But he decided it would be better to bite his tongue.

He was literally the Devil after all. He doubted he would be very tolerant, no matter how much he referred to him as "my son." Sam had experience with terrible fathers who knew how to maintain an appearance of civility. This new father was a significant improvement for the mere fact that he doubted there was alcohol in hell, only alcoholics.

"Before I get to work, I'd like you to clarify a couple of things for me."

"Go ahead. Ask whatever you want."

Sam nodded. For being the Devil, he was quite cooperative. Of course, he believed he was his son and probably had plans for him beyond massacring the Wright family. He really didn't care if he thought him a pawn in his game. In the end, he would take it all or die trying.

Second chances were useless if you weren't willing to give it your all. He wasn't going to waste this opportunity. Even if he failed in the end, he would make sure no one could say he hadn't at least tried.

"When you say I'll become stronger with each murder, what exactly do you mean?"

"I already told you that you'll be getting special powers that make magic pale in comparison. You're not a human being, after all. If you want specific details, I'm afraid I can't tell you much. You won't grow up to be a copy of me. Your evolution will follow your own path. However, you'll probably have a couple of things in common. Telekinesis and the ability to transform into animals. Crows, snakes. You know. The darkest creatures of this world."

Yeah, it couldn't be any other way. Sam nodded patiently with his expression barely changing, but inside he was excited. That kind of power was within his reach. He could almost touch it with his fingers. That and more, and the only price was the life of a housekeeper, to begin with. It was a perfect deal.

"What's your second question?"

"You see, I know my mission is to massacre this family. But does it have to be all of them? Couldn't I keep, father, a few of the women as pets?"

The face in the flames froze in surprise. But only for a moment. Satan let out a low, hissing laugh like a snake.

"You should kill them all, to fulfill your mission and make sure no one can discover you. But hell, why not? If you can subdue them, make sure they're loyal to you no matter what, do as you please with whoever you please. I won't say no to a grandchild or two. Or a dozen."

Sam shared a sincere laugh (quietly, of course) with his new father. The Devil in person was definitely a great improvement compared to the previous one. Who would have thought?

"Thank you, father. Those were all my questions. I'll rest for tonight, but I promise you the housekeeper will be dead soon."

"If you think you're capable, but there's no need to rush. I prefer you to take days, weeks even, if that's what you need to prepare well. It's especially important in this, your first murder, since you have to rely on human tools. They're primitive and can leave traces everywhere. The essential thing is that you don't get caught. There's no time limit. Remember that."

"Of course, I won't take action until I'm sure."

He had no loyalty to the father who had provided him with this great opportunity and the mysterious powers he would gain with each murder. He wouldn't let himself be caught by him. If necessary, he would end Satan himself. And it would probably be necessary. He didn't think he would be satisfied with stepping back and giving up his throne. It probably wouldn't be that simple and straightforward.

But well, all in due time.

"You're a promising boy," Satan said. "Make me proud of you."

The face in the flames disappeared. It would be the first time, he thought. Well, it's not like he cared too much either. He lived for himself. Maybe in his old life it hadn't been entirely true, no matter how many times he had repeated it to himself, but this time it would be. It was time to get rid of all the burdens and focus solely on his pleasure and happiness.

Sam lay down in his bed that was already fit for a king, covering himself with fine silk sheets. Elegant, but they wouldn't do much when winter approached. Well, now it would be a season of fire.

Sam closed his eyes, smiling, and let sleep drag him away.

I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 3: END

 

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Chapter 4: I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 4

Sam dreamed of Violet and Christina worshipping his cock and balls. It was a pleasant dream. And, even better, it didn't result in a morning incident, just an uncomfortable erection pointing toward the bed. The erection disappeared immediately. Sam focused entirely on his murderous thoughts with complete ease.

The housekeeper would die soon. He had grand plans, and this was the first step to making them a reality. He wished he had a supernatural power on his side, but he believed he could brutally kill her with his bare hands if necessary. He wouldn't even flinch.

But Satan had asked him to make it look like an accident. Orchestrating that accident would be more difficult. He had to investigate the mansion and think things through carefully. It was the first step, but if he screwed it up, that bitch would bury all his ambitions.

Sam had no intention of failing before crossing the starting line.

To begin with, he had to make that dream with Violet and Christina come true. Although in his dream, Christina had had bigger breasts. Sam smiled.

He was a man, after all.

The Wright mansion was quite large. Five floors, countless hallways and rooms. It shouldn't be difficult to kill someone without being detected. Especially if it was a mere housekeeper whom no one would miss. On the other hand, he didn't even know her name, much less her routine. Even if he retained the memories of this body, of this Sam, he doubted he would have known much more.

And since she was a nobody, investigating her would be suspicious. He immediately thought of the perfect excuse, but ideally, no one would suspect in the first place. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to assume a servant had been murdered if something happened to her hours or days after a nobleman started showing too much interest in her.

He wandered through the mansion hoping to find the housekeeper and that none of his sisters would come looking for affection, because he had plenty of that to give. He still hadn't completely calmed down after that dream. Anyway, he was in a fantasy world in the medieval era with magic (like most fantasy worlds these days). The things he was thinking about weren't exactly taboo. Maybe it wouldn't be hard to break her resistance...

He was starting to get distracted again. All in due time, he thought. Otherwise, he would be left empty-handed.

He found the housekeeper. She was cleaning someone's room, alone. He heard voices in the distance, but no one would stop him from going in there and doing whatever he wanted with her. Sam licked his lips as if what he intended was to take advantage of her, not kill her.

She was a mature woman of great attractiveness, but he wasn't going to sleep with someone who would soon be dead.

Sam approached the housekeeper from behind, without announcing his presence. With just a glance around the room, he could see many ways to kill quickly and silently, but it had to be an accident. The idea of killing someone excited him almost as much as making his sisters submit to him sexually. But he would restrain himself.

The housekeeper finally noticed his presence, even though, of course, he had closed the door after entering. She jumped.

"Oh, Mr. Samuel. Happy... Happy birthday, sir. Do you need something from me?"

Sam smiled at her. He hoped it was a pleasant smile given how attractive this body was.

"First of all, remind me of your name."

"Annabelle, sir."

"Ah, yes." It was annoying not to have memories. He was going to apologize for forgetting her name, but immediately bit his tongue, wondering if the other Sam had been that kind of person. Well, from what he knew (which was nothing), he had messed up just by approaching a servant on his own and talking to her like a normal person. Anyway, he couldn't stumble around in the dark for the rest of his life. He had to choose a direction. "Sorry for forgetting. I'll remember."

"You don't need to apologize, my lord. I'm just a humble servant."

"Yeah. Well, I need you to humbly do me a small favor."

Annabelle squirmed, uncomfortable.

"Sir, if you want my body or anything, it's yours. But I already told you I can't search your father's room." She lowered her head. "I beg you, understand me. If they catch me, I'm dead."

Oh, interesting. So this wasn't their first personal conversation. The other Sam had known her and had his own plans. Of course. The eighteen years before his arrival couldn't be a blank page.

In any case, it was interesting.

I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 4: END

 

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Chapter 5: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 5

"Oh, don't worry, Annabelle. It's not about that. And as attractive as you are, I don't want your body."

Her look told him that, as humiliating as it might be, she would prefer it to be such a simple transaction. What scared her most was his unknown request that she couldn't refuse. Perhaps a punishment for having disobeyed him, although she had no other choice. A thousand things must have been going through her head. Not knowing that soon she wouldn't have to worry about anything at all.

"Then, what is it that you want? Please, don't play with me." The woman got on her knees. "Just tell me what to do and I..."

He knew he was someone powerful now. Not only because of being the devil's son, but for having been born into a noble family. But this live demonstration of the power he had over inferior beings made his cock hard again. For a few moments, he reconsidered his decision not to have sex with her.

But he discarded that idea as quickly or even faster than the first time it had occurred to him. Placing the risks and benefits on the balance, it was clear which path he should follow with a cold mind. He didn't want to enjoy her and then have to kill her. Besides, he would prefer a woman to submit to him by her own decision, not just out of fear. The sensation of domination he craved wouldn't exist if the result had nothing to do with who he was, but what he was. The status he possessed since birth.

Forcing her to have sex with him because he was a noble young master was something the other Sam could have done too. He had the tools and time to demonstrate his superiority. He wouldn't settle for something like that.

It's not that he had problems with making her get on all fours and raping her. It's just that it would be too easy, unworthy of him.

"Look, I'll be brief because I've already made you waste enough time. I don't want you to risk yourself or do anything special for me. Just pay attention. And if you see or hear something interesting, I want to be the first one you tell. Just the first, I'm sure you have a similar deal with many of my brothers and sisters, who are always looking for a way to gain an advantage.

Nothing special, nothing you're not already doing. Okay? Simply carry on with your life, and in return, I'll reward you."

"How?"

"Well, I don't know you, you tell me what you want. Ask for it."

"I... The only thing I want... No, need, is money, my lord."

"Oh? Dad doesn't pay you well, huh?"

"Lord Wright pays his servants well, but it's not just for me." Annabelle lowered her gaze, ashamed.

"I see. I'll give you some extra money each month."

An extremely easy promise to make when she wasn't going to survive the week and, if things went well, exactly as they wanted, not even this day.

"Why are you being so kind to me, sir?" The humble servant didn't dare to raise her gaze. Her position gave him a good view of her cleavage. On her knees, submissive, with that dress. It was even more seductive because she wasn't doing it on purpose.

"I want you to serve me because you want to, not out of fear of the consequences of saying no to someone like me. Many in my family may not understand it, but that's how you get the best servants. I have no intention of giving you the slightest reason to betray me."

Annabelle raised her gaze. She looked as if she didn't believe a word of what he had said, naturally, but she could almost understand it. He had given her a selfish and pragmatic reason. She could believe that much more easily than sudden kindness from a noble brat.

"While we're at it, you could tell me exactly why the money isn't enough. I have the feeling there's a special reason."

"My mother is sick, sir, and can't work. I send all the money I can, but it's simply not enough, too many mouths to feed."

"Sick, huh? Alright." Sam crouched down to her eye level, extending a hand to touch her chin. "I'll also get her better medical care."

Annabelle's eyes were practically popping out of their sockets.

"You're doing too much for me. It can't be just for that, right? If it's to convince me to enter your father's room, or whatever, whatever you wish, I'll do it. I promise I'll do it, I don't care anymore."

"It's just for that and nothing more."

Annabelle burst into tears and hugged him.

"Thank you. Thank you. I will always... Always be loyal to you.

You and no one else should be the new successor of this family."

With that, she had hit the damn nail on the head. Sam smiled maliciously.

Since she was hugging him, she couldn't see his smile, of course, but even if the woman had been in a position to do so, she wouldn't have seen any malice there. Not a trace. Human beings were very good at seeing exactly what they wanted to see, and lies were much better than the cruel reality.

"Let this stay between us, eh?"

The tearful woman nodded against his shoulder.

Good. Before dying (the details were unimportant, this was his life now), Sam had been a normal person. By which he meant that, sure, he had fantasized sometimes about killing someone. Who hasn't? Who doesn't play with those thoughts after a betrayal or enduring an asshole boss who seemed dedicated to making your life impossible? But he had never crossed the line.

He was willing to cross it, but if it were that simple, fewer murderers would be caught.

To make matters worse, he had to make it look like an accident.

This had been a ploy to find something about her life or routine that could help him in this regard. For example, if she had been an avid smoker, he could have gotten her something stronger to smoke. When she was under the effects of that, he could give her even more and let her die with everyone thinking she had suffered an overdose. Something like that would cause his immediate arrest in his world, but this world wasn't at the level where they could find his fingerprints on the corpse, with or without magic...

Probably.

Well, in any case, it had just been an idea.

Now he had a very different one in mind.

He didn't want to wait, he wanted to kill her today, demonstrate his worth to Satan and test the dark powers he had promised him. However, he could wait until she had to visit her mother. If he broke her neck and threw her somewhere, people would think she had fallen from the cart on the way to her mother's house. Or better yet, arrange a real accident.

As an added benefit, naturally, if he killed her away from the mansion, they wouldn't look for suspects nearby.

Sam perfectly understood that it wasn't convenient for him to make his acts too obvious. Since he would have to kill so many people, sooner or later it would become evident that a killer was on the loose, no matter how well he orchestrated the accidents and even if everything went perfectly.

But the longer that "nothing's happening here" phase lasted, the better.

Sam broke the hug and sweetened his smile.

"Don't worry, I'll take very good care of you."

He wondered if Satan was watching, and if he would feel proud.

He was definitely proud of himself. The power to extinguish a human life and get away with it was within his reach, he could touch it with his fingertips. That was the 'key' to the future with which he would open the door.

I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 5: END

 

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Chapter 6: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 6

On his way to his room, someone bumped into Sam, making him lose his balance. He was this close to falling to the ground, but he grabbed onto the 'something' he had collided with, to at least drag it down with him. Unfortunately, he didn't succeed; the only thing he managed was to bump his forehead against a girl who had probably fallen because she was wearing one of those overly long and flowery dresses of the era.

As for him, he hadn't seen her coming because he had been lost in his thoughts.

Plotting, that is.

The girl smiled when she recognized him, which he supposed was a good sign.

Sam always felt uncomfortable seeing that look in someone he had no fucking idea about. Three and a half days, rounding up, were by no means enough time to get used to that. It made him feel deeply uncomfortable, as if he had insects under his skin.

Not to mention the simple fact that he was walking on thin ice. Each slip-up added another crack to the ice, and it was incredibly easy to slip up with a person who thought they knew you when you had no fucking clue about them.

"Do you want to play with us?" asked the girl.

Sam blinked.

Us. Yes, she wasn't alone. A couple of kids came running behind her, stopping. Apparently, she had been faster than them even with that dress. Ha, bumpkins.

He looked at her.

Whatever her name was, whoever she was, she didn't attract him at all. Not that she was an ugly girl, quite the contrary.

So it was a bit strange. He was so horny he'd fuck anything that moved, probably from being in an eighteen-year-old boy's body again (the first puberty had been difficult and embarrassing enough), but this girl didn't awaken those kinds of feelings in him.

It's not that she was too young for his taste either.

Two, three years difference, at most.

Anyway, it didn't matter.

"What's wrong, Sam?" she insisted when he got lost in his thoughts instead of answering her. A bit embarrassing. "Now that you're eighteen, do you think you're all grown up, too good to play with me?"

For a moment he thought she was genuinely offended, but only for a moment. The laughter lit up even her eyes.

Sam thought about rejecting the offer.

"But I don't want to play with Sam, he's always been a weirdo," said one of those boys.

The girl shrugged.

"Then leave."

"Evelyn..."

There's her name. Perfect.

"What's wrong? If you don't want to play, then don't play. What did I say wrong?"

"Fine, fine. It always has to be how you want it," he sighed.

Get used to it, kid. Women.

More importantly, he had changed his mind.

"I'm in," said Sam.

The girl's smile, Evelyn's, widened.

"Perfect, let's go." She took his hand, pulling him forward. Sam let himself be led obediently, though not for long; she was full of life, so she let go of him soon and ran off down the hallway. Sam ran after her, as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast, faster than the runt following her, but still far behind her.

He had met her like a minute ago, so it was a premature judgment, but it immediately gave him the impression of being the kind of person who ran everywhere as if she never had enough time to do all the things that crossed her mind.

He also had many things on his mind and little time to carry them out.

But soon, very soon, he would make Satan proud. In fact, he intended to exceed his expectations by far. He didn't think it would bother him, that he would see it as disobedience. Not as long as the results were worth it, of course, and they would be. He didn't intend to fail. He couldn't fail now.

He climbed several stairs, following Evelyn. The other two brats too, though slower, breathing more heavily, with their tongues hanging out like dogs.

She wasn't acting exactly like a noble lady. Better that way.

So stiff, so boring.

It was no way to live for anyone. Not even for him. He was the son of fucking Satan, he wasn't going to learn manners, or which of the half dozen forks was the right one for what. He was going to make a big fuss, make it rain blood. And have a lot of fun.

Any journey began with the first step.

This was his first step.

Evelyn turned out to be perfect in more ways than one. She led him up, up, up, to the attic.

"You never get tired, huh?" said Sam. It wasn't a question.

"You know me."

And he did. Enough for his liking.

He didn't need to know anything else about her, really.

"What do we do now?" asked one of the stupid kids whose name didn't matter; in fact, he barely distinguished them. They weren't twin brothers or anything like that, he simply didn't pay them enough attention, as if they were part of the decor, so to speak.

Anyway, for him, it was just a nuisance.

"Let's play cards! Like the grown-ups!" said the other one.

God (heh, ironic).

He knew they were a few years younger than he appeared to be, but they really were nothing but children, huh? Thinking they were grown-up by imitating adults who nine out of ten times hadn't grown up either, just gotten taller.

"Do you feel like it, Sam?" asked Evelyn.

It bothered him to waste time playing cards with these brats, but in the end, he had no choice. Not if he wanted everything to go well.

He lost almost two hours with those stupid children, playing cards without even betting anything, or worrying if he won or lost, because anyway he would have what he wanted. It should relax him, but he didn't want to relax. He wanted, needed, stimulation.

That bad time passed, which was the important thing, and finally he could set in motion the plan that had been percolating in his mind when sweet Evelyn had bumped into him. A plan that the girl had made surprisingly easy, as if it were a matter of destiny, or as if Sam already possessed some mysterious demonic power that pushed things in the direction he desired.

Silly ideas aside, when they started to clean up to leave the attic once and for all, Sam sank his claws into her with a smile and a question.

"Can I talk to you alone?"

"Sure."

The other boys left, though not very happy to leave them alone. It was obvious why they followed her wherever she ran, although surely the brats would believe they were being subtle about their feelings. And their jealousy.

It was almost funny, almost.

"What did you want to tell me?"

Sam turned around, approaching the attic window. He sighed exaggeratedly, theatrically. He was a good liar, but not a good actor. He would have to work on that. He had plenty of time for that.

Evelyn approached after a while, resting her elbows on the edge of the window and looking through the glass instead of at him.

"I think I know how you feel. I'm tired too. So many power games, everyone going for each other's throats, even knowing it will probably be useless. That the line of succession is well fixed and their childish games can do little to change that. So much evil..."

Evelyn shook her head.

Well, well, this girl. He supposed that, just like in medieval times in his world, everyone was forced to grow up faster. Because it wasn't an easy life. Even for nobles.

"It's a shame, yes. A waste of time and effort." He told her more or less what he thought she wanted to hear.

"And now that you've turned eighteen, you'll no longer have the luxury of not being seen as an opponent."

Sam didn't take long to realize where this was going.

"You were looking for me. To distract me, to make me feel better."

Evelyn looked away even more, blushing. He didn't know what she was, if a sister, a cousin. Whatever she was...

"Any problem?"

She was a good girl.

Sam smiled. He had goosebumps and his cock was hardening.

"None. You're a good..." Ah, yes, he had no idea what she was. He had almost slipped up. "Friend. A very good friend."

"Well, I try. But we're more than friends." She looked him in the eyes. "We're family. I know not very close, but for me, at least, that means something."

"For me too, you know."

"I know, Sammy, I meant the others. But I can't even blame them. We've always been taught to compete, not to share and support each other. To push a person when they're falling instead of helping them keep their balance."

"And why do you think you turned out different?"

"I don't know. I guess maybe I am too stupid to be so cruel."

Evelyn shrugged.

"It's the same for them."

"Screw the others. The only thing that matters is what you believe is right." In that, at least, he had no need to lie. "Besides, being a good person only means being convenient for someone. If you help one person, you upset another. You can't be a good person for everyone."

"Come on, you can never please everyone, so focus on yourself."

"Yes, that's it."

"You have a peculiar way of cheering me up, but at least you try. Thank you, Sammy. You're a good person."

His cock got even harder.

"Don't call me Sammy. It's a girl's name."

He had let it slide the first time to not ruin the atmosphere, everything had been and was flowing well, but he hadn't overlooked it.

Evelyn simply laughed.

"You were always my favorite. Never change."

"Of course not."

Sam opened the window.

"What's wrong? Are you that hot?"

Sam went through the window to the other side. A direct path to the rooftop. Evelyn decided to follow him in silence, he didn't have to tell her anything. How obedient. How kind.

How stupid, indeed.

Utterly stupid.

"You see, I want to breathe some fresh air. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to suffocate in this mansion and that they're going to bury my bones underneath and no one will know shit about me. Nothing important, nothing true, in any case."

Evelyn put a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll get out of this someday, Sam. Maybe you'll be chosen as the heir, we both know you have a chance, and I'll be by your side as your wife. At least in public. We could breathe and be ourselves in private. Or however you want. I'm willing to accept whatever you want." She lowered her head with an embarrassed smile and flushed cheeks.

Sam's smile grew bigger, like a shark's.

He also put a hand on her shoulder.

And pushed her.

——

Evelyn was so surprised that she didn't even scream for long.

She just saw the cousin she thought she knew moving away, although he remained on the rooftop, with his hands crossed and looking back at her impassively. As if nothing had happened.

Even when she started to scream, a scream without words, Evelyn at least received a minimum of relief, a cold consolation. She saw how the eyes of that thing lit up in yellow, full of a demonic glow, and knew the truth.

She knew that Sam had stopped being Sam at some point seconds before her head burst like a melon.

I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 6: END

 

[MadsGM]

Chapter 7: I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 7

He knew it was risky, but Sam couldn't help staying at the edge, watching until Evelyn's flight ended. It was his first murder, after all. Although it had only taken an instant, it was something he would remember for the rest of his life.

A moment that would define him and the trajectory of his life. There weren't many moments like this in life, really, so he intended to enjoy it. Besides, what was the point of life without a little risk?

The fleeting angel Evelyn's flight came to a violent stop.

He saw her head burst against the fountain in the center of the courtyard and it gave him so much pleasure that a shiver ran from his fingertips to his head. Especially seeing how the water in the fountain was turning red.

He quickly moved away from the rooftop when the screams began, however.

Not even her mother would recognize her, there was so little left of the head, after all. Of poor Evelyn's head. Sam brought a hand to his mouth to suppress laughter as he re-entered the attic. He had to get out of there like a bat out of hell, no, in fact precisely because of that the attic wasn't the best way, he went out again.

Two people had been up there, two inconvenient obstacles, so it was best to take another route so they would think he had gone down a long time ago. So that it wouldn't be questioned that he had nothing to do with Evelyn's death. With her unfortunate accident.

He went to the back of the rooftop, climbing over the railing.

He didn't look down. Son of Satan or not, he still lacked extraordinary powers. Even if he survived the fall, he would probably end up exposed as something inhuman, which would be the same as dying. So naturally, he came to the conclusion that the best thing he could do was not look down.

He didn't have a phobia of heights, he had common sense. You could die from a trip at ground level, if you hit yourself in the right way. A fall from so many floors would kill him for sure.

Being afraid of that wasn't any phobia.

Although he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

He was standing on the edge, without railing, without any protection.

Sam took a deep breath.

Quick or you'll ruin everything. His first murder. His plans. His big chance. Too much at stake to let twenty meters of height, or whatever it was, ruin everything.

Nothing and no one would stop him.

He slowly and carefully descended to the nearest window, that is, the one directly below him. He had to do this more slowly than he would like (it would be difficult to explain what the hell he was doing climbing the facade if he was caught, definitely) because he had never done such a thing as a child. They hadn't been the ones who climbed anywhere or had a hyperactive imagination.

So there was nothing natural about his way of looking for points to support his hands and feet, he was doing this for the first time, but he would succeed. He knew it was the right decision and, anyway, it was too late to regret it.

He reached the edge of the window safe and sound and looked. He had a clear path. He snuck in and didn't even bother to close the window. It doesn't matter, it's not like there was any TV series detective in the mansion. No normal human would take that as proof that the killer had come through there from the attic.

To begin with, most likely the first servant or person to pass by would close it without thinking anything in particular about it.

He had to be practical instead of getting carried away by useless paranoia.

In other words, he had gotten away with it.

His first murder couldn't have been a more perfect victory. It was a great way to start his trail of blood.

A trail that no one would be able to follow, not until it was too late. The thought brought him immense satisfaction. The thought of so many people in his hands like helpless puppets, only able to wait for the moment when he would cut their strings.

As he returned to his room, Sam began to feel strange. In a good way. Of course he didn't suddenly feel bad when hearing and passing through the commotion, adults and children coming out to see what was happening, the screams, none of that. It was something inside him that had nothing to do with silly things like guilt or remorse. It was something different from anything he had felt in his life.

Satan had made it clear.

With each murder, he would become more powerful. That must be the sensation of his body changing to accommodate the infernal powers that were his demonic inheritance, along with the throne of hell in due time.

But now he had to return to the room. To take a deep breath and report his victory.

He reached the room without anyone bothering him.

He felt nothing even resembling guilt, but some adrenaline. He let himself fall onto the bed.

After a while, he made the preparations for Satan to manifest as a face in the fireplace.

"Well?" said the flames.

He had almost expected him to know. To look angry or pleased, but to know.

"It's done."

"You work fast," he replied with a smile, well, as sinister as his own, he supposed. Like father, like son. "Explain to me how you did it in detail."

"Of course, father. But the person I killed wasn't the housekeeper."

"Now you'll have to explain why you've disobeyed me. Don't tell me you suddenly got sentimental, thinking about when she changed your diapers."

She?

Well, of course the young noble masters weren't going to clean a baby's ass. Thinking about it, it made sense.

More importantly, Satan wasn't showing his anger. Which obviously didn't mean he wasn't, but at least it seemed he would give him a chance to explain himself before deciding whether to punish him or not. And that removed all worries from his head.

Sam was convinced that even a fool would understand the advantages of his plan, and the Prince of Lies and all that couldn't be a fool.

"I discovered interesting information about Annabelle. It turns out they're a large family, and her mother is so sick that they depend only on her salary. I thought it would be a shame to remove the easiest piece to manipulate from the board, father."

"For what purpose would you use that woman?"

"I know you don't want me to kill all the Wrights. To begin with, that would make my true nature evident. But sooner or later they'll start to snoop around. Even if I decided to waste time, spreading the murders over decades. Even if I don't make any mistakes."

"That's true. And?"

"She would go to jail for me."

"So you want to keep her in reserve to blame her for a few murders."

"Or to help me carry them out, or clean up the crime scene. She can have many uses. Simply in exchange for helping her family, I can have her eating out of the palm of my hand. I'm sure she would kneel before me even if she knew who I really am, just to save her mother."

Satan laughed.

"It shows you're my son. Very well, you're forgiven. Who did you kill, then?"

"Evelyn Wright. I hadn't planned to kill her specifically, but it was the first opportunity that presented itself to me."

Satan licked his lips. The gesture looked a bit strange when he only existed as a face drawn in the flames.

"I want the details."

They were indeed similar. Satan sounded as if he was sharing details of his sordid sexual conquests. In fact, Sam wasn't sure if the pleasure of sex could even compare to the pleasure he had felt killing her. He hadn't fucked since he died and was reborn in this world, after all. Sometimes his old life felt like a distant dream.

"I bumped into her and she invited me to play. I followed her running to the attic. I lost over an hour playing cards with her and a couple of brats. We were left alone, as I asked to talk. She willingly followed me to the rooftop. Because it turned out that she wanted me to be the heir of the Wrights. And to be by my side as my wife when that moment came."

"Then, why did you kill her? Couldn't you have used her for that purpose?"

Was he testing him? Sam frowned.

"I killed her for the same reason I need Annabelle alive. Evelyn would have done anything for the person she loves and that's not me. Not really. She would be the first to betray me when things got ugly."

Satan laughed again. He supposed he had passed his test.

"I guess you're right. You've done very well, my son. You've exceeded my expectations by far. I'm proud."

Despite himself, Sam felt pleased.

Well, it was Satan. A compliment from him meant more than one from a normal person because he wasn't even a person. An angel, a being as old as God, the hidden face of his coin.

Not that he was very studious about it, but he knew that a large part of the public image of the Bible had more to do with the apocryphal content than with the true content of the Bible. And this was another world on top of that. There was no way to be sure what exactly was the world of this Satan, what information applied or not. All that about the cold in his first appearance. That was from Dante's Inferno, not from the Bible. All that about the Devil suffering in the deepest circle of Hell trapped in the frozen lake.

Anyway, that wasn't really the point.

And it wasn't relevant right now.

There was nothing wrong with feeling pleased by a compliment from one of his few allies in this world. Even if he hadn't been the kind of person he was, Sam would have been forced to cooperate with Satan. I'm the son of the devil himself, but I'm actually a good person. Who would believe that? Nobody. Absolutely nobody.

"I have a couple of questions. First of all, you said I would become stronger with each murder. It's true that I feel... different. But how do I know what I've achieved?"

"Yes, first things first."

Flames appeared in a corner of the room and began to spread. Sam didn't blink, didn't even look away from Satan's face, as the flames falsely consumed the room and transported him to a completely different place.

To a cold void.

I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 7: END

 

[MadsGM]

Chapter 8: I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 8

"I thought you couldn't bring me back here," was the first thing Sam said. "Not after my birthday. That's why you risk appearing in the flames."

"Let me clarify things for you then." Satan's voice emerged from the depths of darkness. "First, it's no risk. Every time I appear, I protect the room so our voices can't be heard outside."

Ah. Convenient.

"And as for this, I can do it whenever I want. That's the problem, that I don't want to often. It hurts me. It weakens me."

"I see."

"But you deserve a reward."

In the blink of an eye, Sam found himself back in the mansion. Not in his room, but in front of the entrance stairs. There was no one nearby. He couldn't even hear voices in the distance.

What had gone wrong?

And how had he moved so far? Time should have stopped, just like at his birthday party.

"Relax," said Satan. "This mansion is nothing but an illusion for you to test your powers in a safe environment."

If bringing him to the void weakened him, creating this illusory reality would be ten times worse. But as he didn't give a damn, he said nothing. He would know what he was doing. If he couldn't trust that, at least for now, his mission was doomed to failure anyway.

A man suddenly appeared in front of him. Well, none of this was real and neither was the man. You could see in his eyes that he was more like an empty puppet.

"Now, my son, let yourself be carried away by the power you feel inside. By the instinct of your blood."

That wasn't very helpful. It didn't really tell him anything, but he supposed he should try before complaining. Sam took a deep breath, closed his eyes. Focus on the power within. If it was just that, pure instinct, he supposed he didn't need detailed instructions.

But it didn't seem smart to handle a dark infernal power 'by instinct' and just like that, as if it were nothing.

It wasn't a single power, however. It was his. All his. Better to stop fooling around.

Sam's eyes snapped open when he felt them burning, yellow like his new father's eyes. The empty puppet flew across the room, slamming against the wall. It slid to the floor, leaving a small trail of blood flowing from the wound on the back of its head.

Telekinesis.

Okay, that was interesting. It was hard to judge properly since everything was illusory, but the puppet hadn't been badly hurt and he had the feeling it wouldn't have killed anyone doing the same in the real world. Not like this.

But it was still interesting and he could think of many useful ways to use this ability.

For example, if he had had this power, he could have thrown Evelyn off the roof without laying hands on her. Without having to be by her side, risking being seen. Although he had risked it for the thrill of seeing her die, not because of his human limitations. Did that count as a human limitation or was it simply the natural reaction of a demon?

Sam laughed.

He couldn't help that either. He felt on top of the world.

And it was nothing but a drop of the power he could obtain. But a drop was a world when you had been dying of thirst all your life, wandering through a desert. He always wanted power. He wanted to be someone important.

He would fulfill his wishes and get rid of any obstacle in his way, even the Devil himself.

"Very good. Remember that feeling and take it with you, my son. What beats in your chest is my blood, it is the fire of hell."

"Or the cold."

"It's the same." He suppressed the urge to look for him once again. He knew he was there, but he wouldn't be visible until he wanted to be. "The cold can reach such a point that it burns."

"It's true."

He had never looked at it that way.

"I know it well. I live it every day. Are you ready to return to the real world?"

"Yes, but... What else can you do?"

"Excuse me?"

"In this space. What else can you do with this?"

Satan emerged from the wall in front of him as if it were the surface of a river. He spread his arms, raising them, pointing around.

"Almost anything. Dreaming is free, after all."

"Then can you, can you show me Evelyn? I didn't have much time to observe her corpse and what was left of her head."

Satan snapped his fingers.

He disappeared and seconds later, the corpse was at his feet. Maybe it was just an approximation because Satan hadn't seen it with his own eyes, but it was real enough for him.

His breathing became heavier and heavier, observing what was left of her.

Like the breathing of an animal. His dick didn't get hard. It was as if he were looking at a work of art, so it would be extremely inappropriate. After a while, maybe hours, maybe days (time must have been frozen like then, after all), maybe just a few minutes, Satan appeared again looking at him over a shoulder.

Now I just need an angel on the other one, he thought.

"Have you had enough?"

"Yes. Bring me back, father."

That's what he did.

"What will be my next target?"

"You had enough initiative to choose the first one yourself," said the flames in the fireplace, "but if you insist, I'll guide you again."

Well, did it sting or was it just a bit of sarcasm? Whatever it was, as long as it didn't affect him, he didn't give a damn, like everything else.

"Ivor Wright. Get rid of him. Take all the time you need."

I'm proud of you, my son, but the important thing is to do it right, not to do it quickly. Okay?

Sam nodded as if he knew who the hell Ivor was. He didn't think he could fool him with something stupid like I hit my head and lost my memory, but it was inconvenient.

Satan's face disappeared.

He decided he wouldn't go kill anyone or even plan his next murder. At least for now.

He would go to the library.

Sam lay down on the bed, interlacing his hands behind his head, taking a deep breath. But first of all, he would relax and wait until someone felt the need to call him about what had happened to poor Evelyn, if anyone did.

I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 8: END

 

[MadsGM]

Chapter 9: I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 9

What was that about the plans of mice and men? In any case, Sam was too busy getting beaten up to make an effort to remember and get poetic.

Defending himself wouldn't reveal him as Satan's son. He would gladly do it, if it weren't for another boy holding him from behind while the other one pummeled him. They weren't very brave, but that mattered little in a real fight. And this was a real fight. Sam knew from the first moment that they weren't playing, even though they were just kids.

"You hit like a girl," he said, despite everything, twisting his head to spit blood to the side.

Impassive. Untouchable. He had to project that appearance if he wanted it to be real someday. Besides, the truth is it wasn't that bad. He had never been in a fight, never been hurt like this, but it wasn't that bad.

Moreover, he was too excited to feel the slightest apprehension.

The brat who had been hitting him, mostly in the face, as if wanting to ruin his beauty, stepped back. And he pulled out a knife from inside his jacket.

"Fine," said Ivor, "I won't hit you again. You asked for it."

Obviously they had made sure to drag him to a secluded place as soon as they caught him, but still, it surprised him that he had the balls to pull out a weapon on the mansion grounds. But, as they had said before, he had known from the beginning. That they weren't playing. Or at least Ivor wasn't, in particular. He wasn't one to throw stones, he supposed, but what crazy eyes he had.

Ivor brought the knife to his face with a trembling hand. Not from fear, but from anger. He rested the tip against his cheek.

Sam held his gaze, not even blinking. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear, of giving him what he wanted. But he wasn't afraid in the first place. Why would he be?

Ivor slowly made a cut across his cheek to his chin, taking great pleasure, no doubt, in marking his face. He doubted it would be a permanent scar in a world of magic, so he let him do it, striving to keep his face from moving even a bit in reaction to the pain. Even now, it was nothing more than a shadow behind his excitement.

"We know it was you," said Ivor. "Confess."

Even then, Sam only smiled sinisterly.

——

A few hours earlier...

Someone knocked on his door. It was Annabelle, so he let her in. She had finally found a moment to sneak away and come visit him. She had communicated that this was what she needed about half an hour ago, subtly, as she passed by.

He didn't want people to know they had a connection beyond the most superficial possible. Not yet. So early in the game, they would undoubtedly draw the wrong conclusions, they wouldn't even come close to the truth he needed to keep hidden, but it still wasn't convenient for them to start talking. Giving them reasons to examine his actions, analyze them.

"I'm very sorry about Miss Evelyn's accident, sir." "Yes. I hope that's true." "I assure you it is, sir..." she said, suddenly tense, nervous. Exactly how he thought she would react, of course. Sam wasn't so stupid as to not know how ambiguous his phrase had been, but he had wanted to play with her. And she had given him a good reaction.

He smiled reassuringly, or at least tried to. "No. I mean, I hope it was an accident."

Sam wasn't a good actor. He had never needed to be an actor. He had been too busy living his life, fighting for every little thing he gained, to waste time pretending to be someone else. But he would have to learn, and fast. He was surrounded by nobles, after all. Snakes that lived in and constantly breathed that poison. He had to learn to fit in and be the one who ate the others, the last monster standing.

Now, Sam did what he could to appear to be suffering a complicated mix of feelings. Sadness, anger, and doubts. The latter was perhaps the most complicated. Because he had never been more sure of anything in his life. He had never felt so full of life, of determination, of desire to face the new day full of possibilities.

He wondered if that was what normal people felt when they woke up every day... It couldn't be, could it? He hoped not. Normal people already had too many privileges. The world was controlled by people like him, but it didn't matter how abnormal Sam was if he couldn't move in the same waters. He had never been behind the curtain, but drowning in the illusion constructed for the masses.

"Oh," said Annabelle. "You can't rule it out, can you? Of course not, in this family. Anyway, here's your advance."

Sam handed her what he had promised. More than enough money for the treatment in a bag that could be hidden in the maid's uniform. Again, it wasn't convenient for anyone to talk. He had thought about other silly things like an emptied music box, something easier to disguise, but there was no need to disguise something that people wouldn't see in the first place. Sometimes he overthought things.

"I haven't provided you with any information yet." "A deal is a deal."

Besides, he wasn't terribly interested. The deal had arisen from his attempt to obtain information about her and no one else.

"Thank you very much, sir." Annabelle made a deep curtsy. Sam took a glance without thinking twice. She had a spectacular pair of tits. "But... Is this really all you want from me? I'm not demanding anything, Mr. Wright, I'm yours, but I'd like to know what to expect."

Sam smiled. He had been doing that often lately. Tasting true power would do that to anyone. He had no shortage of reasons to be so happy.

"If you want more orders, don't call me Mr. Wright again. Call me Sam. You serve me, not my surname." That said, it was convenient to clarify that point. Let her get that well into her head.

Annabelle curtsied even more deeply if possible. More than her cleavage, he could practically see everything. By some miracle, her nipples were still escaping his vision for now. He couldn't know what kind of motives they had had in hiring her, but he had a very clear idea of what had been on the mind of the man (undoubtedly) who had designed the uniform.

"Of course, sir. Is there really nothing else? Is that all I have to do?" "Very persistent. Yes, of course there's more. But for now, that's all. I'll think of other ways you can be useful to me."

For a moment Sam considered a very specific way that she seemed to be practically asking for: to pull down his pants and force her to suck his cock. Any appeal that idea might have had or could have had paled in comparison to the excitement that still made his hair stand on end just thinking about his first murder.

"Just send that," he said slowly and after a while. "Make sure your mother receives the treatment she needs... And remember who you owe that to. To me. Not to my family. To me."

"I will always remember, my lord. I am above all yours."

She curtsied before leaving, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

I Am the God of Hellfire, Part 9: END

 

[MadsGM]

Chapter 10: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 10

Jaiden was following Ivor through the park on the mansion grounds, going around the trees, more inside his head than out.

He himself was processing... the recent events.

Of course, barely a day had passed. And it had been so sudden and violent.

Fortunately, his mother had covered his eyes before he saw too much, but even so, the blood staining the fountain water had been too much for him. At the very least, it had made him faint... In a way, hearing about the state of the corpse while his imagination raced was worse than simply seeing it. But that was something he could only say because he hadn't seen it, it could also be true that...

But he was getting off track.

The thing is, as much as it had affected him, he understood that it had affected Ivor at least twice as much. He wasn't stupid, he had known it long before he told him, but on top of that, he had told him. Loud and clear and without mistakes. He had told him, and now this.

Evelyn was the one he hadn't been able to tell, and now he never could.

His head was a mess.

He wanted to do something to help his cousin, but he had no idea what he should do. What to say, how to say it. He was just a child after all.

Death was something dark and complicated. From another world.

But Ivor remained quiet, barely looking where he was going, occasionally moving his lips, as if talking to himself. Whether he was good at it or not, it was clear that he was the one who should start the conversation.

Jaiden scratched the back of his head, cleared his throat several times, more to kill time than anything else. He was afraid. Afraid and full of doubts, nothing more.

"I still can't believe it. That she died so suddenly. Not even an hour had passed since we said goodbye to her and... And that." It wasn't a terrible way to start, was it? Honesty, inviting him to share his feelings.

Maybe they couldn't fix anything, but they could go through it together. That was something, wasn't it?

"She didn't die."

"What?"

For a moment he thought he had heard wrong. That he had to have heard wrong.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy! He pushed her, for sure. He's always been a weirdo."

Oh.

That was just the second possible meaning that had occurred to him. Much less crazy, but still... He supposed it was easier to think that it had happened for a reason than that it had simply been bad luck.

He couldn't express it in those words, he was too young. That was just the feeling he had.

He swallowed.

"Come on, man, why would he do that? Deep down you know that Evelyn liked..."

There it was. He had refused to say it out loud for years in his presence because he didn't want to hurt someone who was not just a relative, but a good friend. But now Evelyn was dead, it really didn't matter anymore.

The best thing for Ivor would be to discard those kinds of crazy ideas soon.

"We're talking about Sam," Ivor said, almost shouting, "not her. He was always a weirdo."

That was true, but from there to killing someone, someone who loved him, who would probably be willing to help him secure his position as the heir, just because...

He didn't believe that.

"Dude..."

"Help me prove it," Ivor begged him.

Just like that. As if it were easy, even if Sam had really done such a thing. Jaiden looked his friend in the eyes. He barely recognized him. Barely, but there was still something, and the rest was simply hidden under grief and anger.

He had to help him by preventing him from doing something stupid.

——

Now that he had taken care of the housekeeper, for now, Sam left the room and went to the library. The one inside the Wright mansion, of course. Maybe he couldn't avoid it, but he had no intention of leaving the grounds until he fulfilled his mission. Of wasting time, even a second.

The hidden massacre he would perpetrate in this mansion was just the beginning of his dark legacy and his grand plans.

The library was empty. Some things didn't change, even in another world.

He preferred it that way, of course.

He picked up some books related to magic and started reading. He lacked memories, he lacked the education he had presumably received, so much of it sounded like Chinese to him. But he didn't need to understand everything, just what could interfere with his murders.

He was especially interested in the healing capabilities of this world or any spell that could be used for investigation.

As for the former, it wasn't much, and he found no mention of the latter. It didn't mean it didn't exist, of course, he hadn't been reading for that long. But for now, nothing.

Who would have thought that studying about real magic would be so boring?

"At least it doesn't require anything stupid like waving a wand."

Okay, he had no intention of wasting time learning human magic, he had better things to do and doubted he would ever need to demonstrate the magic that the other Sam had learned, but it was still worth reading all this.

If he had any obstacle, it was lack of information.

After all, he hadn't even been in this world for a week.

"Studying? Live and learn." Much to his chagrin, Violet's voice made him start.

He recognized it instantly and it's not like he was doing anything wrong, nothing he had to hide, but it still happened. He had been too immersed in the books, ceasing to pay attention to his surroundings. It didn't matter and it was natural, it's not like he was surrounded by enemies, on the contrary, he was the snake egg eating the bird's nest eggs.

But still, he felt ashamed.

It shouldn't have caught him by surprise, damn it.

Besides, there was the comment itself. It should be the most annoying thing. It wasn't, but it should be.

It was just a joke, but he wasn't behaving like the other Sam, at least as Violet had known him. That was dangerous. This was real life. Even if he started acting like a completely different person, people wouldn't immediately jump to the conclusion that he actually was. They would look for explanations that fit common sense, trusting their eyes and ears.

Still, he hadn't liked hearing it.

"There's always a first time for everything," he responded. Words that took no risks.

Violet pulled out one of the chairs and sat down beside him, crossing her legs. He didn't know, among many other things, how close she had been to Evelyn. Maybe they only knew each other by sight. But at least for him, there was a shadow on her face.

It didn't sadden him to see her like that, but it didn't please him either.

"Hey, Sam. I'm sorry. Christina and I looked for you after what happened, but you didn't answer."

"I didn't notice. I must have fallen asleep," he said sincerely.

Although it was also true that he wouldn't have bothered to answer even if he had noticed. He had been too excited, between the murder and his new telekinesis power, to pretend sadness in front of anyone. So he had pretended in the best way he could think of: locking himself in the room and letting the rest of the world draw conclusions.

"I understand. What I mean is, if you need anything, anything at all, that's what we're here for."

Very good girl, but...

"We're?"

"Well, Christina has probably taken a more direct route."

"What does that mean?"

Violet shrugged, as if she herself didn't know why she had said that, but she gave him a clear answer anyway. He would like people to be clearer. What was the point of that gesture, then?

"She'll be waiting for you in the room, probably."

"You call that being direct? You're here, now."

"At least you're as picky as ever," Violet elbowed him, smiling. "I mean your room is a more intimate place. Although this is very empty." She looked around as if she had just realized that fact.

"The thirst for knowledge of youth, you know. They must have read all the books already."

Violet laughed. She had a nice laugh.

But it didn't last long, the shadow fell over her face again. Well, anyway, before laughing he preferred to hear her moan underneath him.

"You don't have to force yourself. I know how much you must be suffering. Come here." She extended her arms, inviting him.

Sam gladly accepted the invitation and returned the hug. It felt good against those big boobs.

"I'm really sorry. I wish this hadn't had to happen, especially so close to your birthday."

If things were as they appeared, yes, it would have been a very bad way to start his eighteenth year in this world. Violet's sympathy, of course, didn't make him feel anything at all, much less contradictory to his objectives. He simply felt pleased because the woman was still treating him like the brother she loved. She didn't suspect the truth. She couldn't.

"Things happen, sister. They simply happen..." He chose his words carefully, modulating his tone.

He wasn't going to make a melodrama, but he couldn't give the impression that it hadn't affected him at all, it wouldn't be congruent. Sam hoped to make her believe that he was acting tough, with some cracks showing in his facade.

Like an inexperienced actor, the best he could do was use the truth.

Besides, she loved the other Sam too much to want to realize that he no longer existed in this world, that he had died for all intents and purposes. She herself would help him deceive himself.

"Yeah. There's rarely good news on your birthday, but this is too much."

"Why do you say that?" he asked before he could think better of it.

He realized it was a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. Although it didn't make sense to him, if she said it, it would be for a reason. But it was too late to regret it. He could only hope that what he should know wasn't too obvious.

"You know. Because you were born on the day of the start of the family conference."

Ah, so that's why there are so many bastards around the mansion. Not just my siblings, but distant cousins. All gathered to see who gets the biggest piece of the cake.

It made sense.

He hadn't heard about it, but it was already a regular event (he assumed it would be held annually), why would they be going around talking about it? That would also explain the tense atmosphere. As if everyone was waiting for something to happen.

And thanks to him it had, of course.

But what was really important was that he had screwed up big time.

What do you mean?

Damn, with how obvious it should have been for the real Sam. He couldn't say he had forgotten the meaning of his own birth date. An auspicious date, which realistically had defined his life.

He thought quickly, looking for a way out.

Hoping there was one in the first place.

"Well, yes. But that has nothing to do with me... I'm tired of all that, sister."

It wasn't a good answer.

It didn't make complete sense. He supposed that above all he was trying to elicit pity, to distract her from the truth. He supposed.

He wasn't scared. He had screwed up, but realistically this didn't expose him. It was too little. What he was was angry with himself. He wanted to do things right, like a fucking professional.

He couldn't think clearly being so angry.

"I know, honey. I know."

An idea occurred to him.

Nothing would erase the fact that he had made a mistake, but maybe he could turn it into an advantage thanks to his genuine anger.

"Hey, sister, I've been thinking..." Sam started to say, pretending to be hesitant. Although at the same time anger shook his voice, and he made no effort to hide it.

"Yes?"

"Maybe it wasn't an accident. I'm racking my brains over it. If I hadn't left her alone..."

It wasn't any risk.

Although Violet certainly hadn't thought for a second that he could even be the culprit, she would have imagined that there could be a culprit. That it could easily have been a murder, in this family, among these 'nobles' who were taught that they were superior to common people since they were born. Accustomed to getting their way. He didn't need to know the other Sam's life to understand common sense things like that.

"It wouldn't be your fault even if they had killed her. But I don't think so. If she had been more influential, it would be a possibility, but she was just a distant first cousin."

Oh, so she was just a first cousin. It was good to know before the funeral. Still, it didn't change anything here and now.

"But I'm one of the favorites. And she... She liked me. She told me."

Violet hugged him even tighter, digging her nails into him. Sam winced, but said nothing. He just wondered to what extent she was suffering for her... and to what extent she was suffering for him, jealous. Yes, they were siblings, but in these times it wasn't exactly a great taboo. Among nobles, at least.

Keeping the line pure.

That's what he intended.

Well, dirty jokes aside, the line was already stained with demon blood. From the demon.

"Okay, but it would still not be your fault. Alright?"

"I'm not so sure." An asshole intervened.

He recognized them. He had played cards with them just yesterday, after all. Although he hadn't caught their names. It wasn't something he could simply ask. Well, like most things.

They had made an appearance again. And they weren't sure, or at least he wasn't.

Great.

I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 10: END