Eyes like ice, with a pierce of steel, love wasn’t what came to mind. With hair that disobeyed gravity and carvings etched in her skin, human was something she wasn’t. She was one of the Wreckers, a special branch of demons, a branch for whom morals didn’t exist.

They slipped their way into human society, sultry smiles and trailing hands, breaking hearts and wreaking havoc. They broke men and women alike, and left them empty and scarred. Not many demons can cause any wreckage beyond physical, but The Wreckers were considered the most dangerous of them all. They lived their lies and laughed as they broke poor lovesick fools.

There was a demon, in particular, that was heartless. With a body that was sin itself and no qualms about showing it off, she drew people to her in waves, regardless of gender. With eyes full of lies and a voice that wrapped around you like silk, it was almost too easy. Like flies, mortals flew right into her traps, and she broke their spirit.

For you see, Wreckers didn’t care for violence and strength. They knew that emotional damage was the most powerful. After all, it was the kind that never healed.

And they fed off the pain they caused.

~~~

Loud music pulsed in the minds and bodies of the humans. They were content with the simplest of things, things without substance or meaning.

She strutted to the entrance, with hair that was midnight, blue woven throughout it. The markings on her body were bewitched to look only like tattoos, and the black boots that went up to her thighs complimented them. Her skirt was shorter than her temper, and her neckline plunged deeper than the ocean. While a normal onlooker might decide her lips were black through makeup, any demon would know it was just the hellfire running through her veins.

She was already getting hungry, feeling the numbness and openness of the human mind. She was only a couple steps away from what would have been a buffet when a small voice stopped her in her tracks.

“You’re pretty.”

She spun around, eyes glowing blue, on high alert. What she saw before her she never forgot.

It was a girl. A tiny, small, female human. With red, frizzy braids, and a dirty dress, along with the stained teddy bear held clutched in her fist, she was a mess. She was sitting on the ground, back against the grimy brick of the underground club.

Confusion and caution were strong in her mind when she knelt next to the human, and said, “You think so?”

The kid nodded her head up and down frantically, sure in her answer. “Uh-huh. You’re very shiny.”

Up close she could see the kid was in good need of a bath, and, judging by her skinny limbs, in good need of a meal, too. She was surprised by the tenderness that flooded her body. But then that went away as anger suddenly flowed through her, hot and strong. Her voice still remained sweet as honey as she asked, “What are you doing out here, hon?”

She stared into the green eyes full of youthful innocence.

“M-my mommy said to stay here. She said she’ll come back later. I’m six, you know!” The child grinned, missing a front tooth.

The demon shut down everything she was born with and silenced reason.

“What’s your name, doll?” she asked, scooping the child up in one fluid motion.

“I’m Stacy, and this is Teddy!” Stacy waved her bear in the air as she said this, and naturally wrapped her legs around the demon’s waist while clasping her arms around her neck.

“Well Stacy, you’re gonna come with me for now, what do you say?” The demon wrapped her arms around the child, and careful not to inhale any of her smell, sunk into the shadows, on her way back to Hell, with a new friend.

~~~

The red-haired girl soon forgot about the sad shell of a life she led before and flourished under the demon’s care. Well, maybe we humans would disagree with a few of the teaching methods, but Stacy was taken care of, and loved, if a demon can love, that is. And really, isn’t that all we can ask for?

~~~

The demon never let the child know just what she risked bringing her back to Hell. Even in the underworld, there is a social system, unspoken sets of rules. And no matter what branch you were from, or what past offenses you had committed, the number one rule was always the same.

You never bring anything into the underworld that doesn’t belong.

But demons are curious things, and this demon happened to have a temper and stubbornness that was legendary even within the realm of Hades. So, nothing was ever said to Stacy directly, but every demon watched with venom for the slightest slip-up, for the flimsiest excuse to dispose of her.

So the demon taught Stacy of their ways, of dark nights and poisonous smiles. Of how to break so as not to be broken. To leave chaos and destruction in her wake.

To be the bad guy.

Little Stacy excelled at breaking hearts, in fact, it seemed to be her specialty. Soon she was known not for being a human in Hell, but for being one of the most dangerous of all the Wreckers.

At seventeen years old, Stacy was striking to look at. Long legs led to muscular thighs, with generous curves along the way. Vibrant red hair danced to the small of her back and seemed to crackle with the fires of Hell. Thick black eyelashes framed deep green eyes that could draw anyone into their depths. Not to mention the tattoos. While some may have considered them a turn-off, most were entranced by the long, dancing lines, and thick, curvy waves that trailed across her body. With tiny thorns neatly inked along the lines, the tattoos held a certain warning to anyone smart enough to look. Stacy’s ‘body count’ grew, and she was accepted into the Wrecker society. She told poor men’s tales of woe to captive audiences and had more than one demon admirer.

But one day all of that changed.

The day when Stacy found the love of her life.

The day when she met Charlie, a wild girl of eighteen.

The next few days Stacy spent every moment with Charlie, and while her absence wasn’t unusual, her silence was. After Stacy returned to the home she shared with the demon, she didn’t leave her room for the next two days. Her mind was in turmoil, her heart and her head tearing her in two. She noted with dreary irony that for the first time, it was her being wrecked.

These were dark days. Suspicions grew, along with Stacy’s panic.

The demon came to her one night and sat down on the feather bed next to her.

She sighed, and a dark look came over her face.

“I always knew this would happen. You were never one of us, not completely. I did my best to bend you to our ways, and I don’t regret any of my decisions. But you’re still human Stacy, and you carry the most human of flaws- emotions. I knew one day this would come.” The demon raised her eyes to Stacy’s, a thousand hellfires burning within.

“I think it’s time for you to go home.”

Stacy left that night, and hugged the demon, saying the words for the first time, “I love you.”

A couple of years later, the demon heard the two were getting married, and a slight smile came to her face.

Only Stacy saw the shadow that followed her on that happy day, and she smiled when she felt a warm wind wrap around her.

Charlie never did fully learn about Stacy’s past, though sometimes she believed she was from another world, and sometimes she could have sworn her wife’s tattoos shifted throughout the night. But she never said anything when Stacy would go on her yearly ‘trip’, and be gone for a week. And she always accepted the occasional extra shadow that didn’t belong. Yes, Charlie accepted everything about Stacy, even the shadowy past she didn’t quite know, and could never understand.

And really, that was all the demon could ask for.