Hell is centered around numbers. You’ve heard them before, say ‘em with me now: Seven Deadly Sins, the Nine Circles of Hell, 666 - The Number of the Beast, the list goes on. It’s not just Hell either, Heaven is just as bad, if not worse. Even the number four has multiple meanings in just about every religion on earth.

The problem with Hell being so deeply focused around numbers is that it really fucking sucks if you’re not the firstborn. Hence, my problems.

You see, first, there’s Cain. He’s (obviously) named for the first murderer. He’s ruthless as a dictator, attractive to anyone who looks at him and is more than willing to use his powers for evil.

Up next is Damien. His name comes from the Greek word “damao” meaning “to tame”. The name itself has no actual correlation with the Devil, but after the movie, The Omen came out, people tend to associate the two. Damien is all sharp jawlines and straight black hair. People fall head over heels for him and he doesn’t even have to lift a finger. He’s intimidating as all shit and makes Christian Grey look like a devout nun. (It was no fun growing up in the room next to him.)

Last and certainly least is me. The youngest of the boys and treated as such. Dad apparently lost interest when it came to me, so I was given the single most Satanic name he could think of: Justin. Justin. Meaning “Fair, just, or righteous.”

Yeah.

No one’s more livid than me.

Satan (that’s my dad) sort of put everything on autopilot when it came to me. I guess with two perfectly evil sons under his belt, he just kind of assumed I would follow suit.

You know what they say about assuming.

I don’t know when exactly Dad decided I wasn’t living up to his standards, but considering I’ve been going to the Sodom and Gomorrah School for Underachieving Spawn since I was twelve, it must have been pretty early on.

Another large-ish problem that has arisen: Because it’s known around my school that I’m the actual spawn of Satan, I’ve become somewhat of a celebrity. I absolutely fucking hate it. I have good reason to hate it. Being a pseudo-celebrity in the world of the supernatural is akin to having a huge target strapped to your back. Half the people I’ve met have tried to kill me, and that’s only a slight exaggeration.

Some highlights include the P.E. teacher from my freshman year who attempted to finish me off with a holy water-soaked dodgeball to the face. (He was… terminated shortly afterward.) The girl I dated for about four months in sophomore year who, under the guise of inviting me over for dinner with her parents, ended up stabbing me in the arm with an enchanted blade (I still have the scar). And, most recently, a vampire boy I’d been pining after for most of my junior year. After an incredible night together, he attempted to drain my blood, thinking it would give him powers of some sort. He was sorely disappointed, and I ended up walking home in the rain.

So far, senior year has been pretty calm. Comparatively, anyway. I’m not holding my breath.

“Do you really think something’s gonna happen?” Zelda’s sitting across from me, poking at her soggy-looking salad with a look of mild displeasure. “It’s already mid-September and no one’s come after you.

“Yet…” It sounds more annoyed than I meant.

“Oh c’mon,” Zelda shrugs and twirls her plastic fork. “Maybe this year will be different.”

I give her a look, somewhat hoping to turn my doubtfulness into something tangible. It doesn’t work. Zelda’s turned her attention back to her food, trying to convince herself to eat. She shakes her head and opens the small bag of potato chips she brought along.

“Can’t you just…” I wave my fingers toward her salad in a pathetic facsimile of casting a spell.

She raises a plucked eyebrow at me, “Are you asking me to enchant my salad, Justin?”

“Well, I don’t know!” I huff and cross my arms, trying to look indignant. “You’re a witch, you do things like that all the time!”

Zelda laughs, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. Her nail polish is chipping. “I’m a green witch, J-J, not a necromancer.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

We change the subject after that, instead, discussing our classes. She tells me about her new study hall instructor and the few cute boys in her pre-calc class she’s been talking to.

“I just wish Newmann would use Zelda instead of…” She shudders and I shake my head.

“They’ll come around someday,” I reach over and take her hand. She smiles before pulling away to finish her chips.

“You already finished lunch?” A voice from behind me makes me jump and spin around. Maybe I am on edge.

Gabby is holding a plastic tray with another sad-looking salad and two cartons of milk. Her newly turquoise hair is puffing out from under a black beanie, and she’s looking down at Zelda and me with feigned anger. She drops the tray on the table and sits down heavily, pulling a knee up to her chest. Will she ever not act like a dancer?

“We’re still here!” Zelda’s grinning.

Gabby finally breaks into a wide smile, taking her hat off to shake out her hair. The turquoise is a bright contrast against her dark skin. I can just barely see the tips of her horns peaking through.

“Where were you?” I ask.

Gabby side-eyes me and raises an eyebrow, “What’re you, a cop?”

Laughing, I shake my head and bring my wrist up to my mouth, pretending to talk into my watch. “She’s onto us! I need immediate extraction.” This earns me a punch in the arm.

“If you must know,” She twirls a finger in her hair and giggles, putting on a high pitched voice, “A verrrrry cute guy asked me out.”

Zelda gasps and throws a hand to her forehead, “A real boy?!”

“Y’know, I didn’t think to ask.” Gabby smiles at Zelda and shakes her head, “Anyway, I  politely told him no. I don’t think he took it too well.”

Zelda and I both wince, “One of those?”

“I don’t think he’s ever been rejected before, especially by a succubus.” Gabby leans on her hand, a look of vague depression settling on her face. “Some guys are assholes. Reminded me of your brother, Justin.”

I groan and roll my eyes, “Which one? The asshole or the Asshole Deluxe?”

Both girls laugh and we continue on our conversation.

The second bell has rung and I’ve just stepped through the door to my English class. I keep my head down, mutter an apology, and make my way to a seat in the back of the room.

“Do you have a note, Justin?” Mr. Collins, the former necromancer-turned-English teacher is facing me, one bushy eyebrow raised in judgment.

“Um… no, sir. Do you want me to get one?”

He sighs and shakes his head, turning back to the whiteboard. “It’s fine today, but I expect better from a Morningstar.”

I nod and dig a few pencils from my bag to take notes which quickly devolve into doodles that take up most of the page. Gabby insisted that we all need a hobby; hers is dance, Zelda’s a drummer (a fucking brilliant one at that), and I always wanted to get better at art. We had a day where the three of us went to the mall just so Gabby could get art supplies for me. She used to demand that I finish one drawing a week but quickly realized that wasn’t gonna happen. Now, she just asks that I show her my newest stuff. Gabby’s pushy as hell, but she certainly means well.

“Hey-” A gentle tap on my shoulder. My eyes fall on a cute girl sitting at the desk next to me. She has long straight hair with bangs that fall in her eyes. “You’re Justin, right?” She’s whispering.

“Uh, yeah… Do I know you?”

She laughs and smiles, “No, I just started here. I’m Kelly.”

“That’s cool!” I’m way too awkward to be around cute girls like this. “What school did you come from?”

She opens her mouth to speak but is almost instantly cut off by Mr. Collins’ aggressive throat clearing. She goes pink and looks down at her notes. We don’t speak for the rest of the class.

When the bell rings, Kelly is one of the first ones out. She doesn’t even look at me as she leaves. I wonder for a moment if I did something wrong, but end up deciding she just had to get to her next class.

I stop by Gabby’s locker so we can walk to our Battlemagic class together. She’s glaring at her phone and doesn’t acknowledge me when I walk up.

“Everything okay?”

She nods and tucks her phone into her pocket before slamming her locker door way too hard. “Yeah, sorry. My mom’s being weird.”

“Sorry to hear it,” I want to ask her about it, but she hates talking about her family problems. I change the subject, “Did you hear that we’re getting a new instructor today?”

“Yeah, I heard he’s one of the best sorcerers ever.” Gabby opens the door and steps through, I dutifully follow.

The Battlemagic classroom is huge; it’s almost the same size as those college lecture halls that can fit hundreds of bored psychology students. The room is enchanted to always provide just the right amount of room for whatever is happening. The seats are large and padded to provide cushioning in case a spell goes awry and sends someone flying. It’s happened more times than I care to remember.

Gabby chooses a spot squarely in the center of the rows of seats. She insists it’s because no one aims for the dead center when they’re practicing. More and more students file in; I recognize the vampire boy from last school year and wave to him. He glares daggers at me and goes to find a seat as far away from me as possible. I sink back into my chair and pretend I’m not embarrassed.

“Aww, cheer up, dude.” Gabby unenthusiastically pats my arm, “Guy was a dick anyway.”

I suppress the urge to make a dirty joke and go back to watching the students. Most of them walk through the door in twos and threes, laughing and talking. I see the two gorgon sisters with their matching sunglasses and snake hair; a tall, heavy-set cyclops with a fedora and an anime shirt follows close behind them. There’s a blonde girl I’ve never seen before; a half-demon guy who I swear makes eyes at me, and… Kelly.

She walks in looking annoyed, fiddling with a silver bracelet. Her eyes scan over the room and fall on me and Gabby. I sit up a little more straight and wave to her. She grins and starts her way over to us, pushing past the few people still standing and talking.

“Uh… Justin?” Gabby puts her hand on my arm. “Who is that girl?”

“Kelly, I met her in my English class. Why?”

“I don’t think--”

There’s the sound of something metal cutting through the air followed by a loud crunch. Kelly is standing a few rows beneath me, somewhat straining to yank a heavy metal ball attached to a chain out of a large dent in the floor. She gets it out, twists the silver chain around her arm and starts swinging the ball (which I’m only now seeing has very sharp blades embedded in it).

Gabby is quicker to react than I am. She jumps up, bony wings unfurling from her back, “HUNTER! EVERYONE DOWN!”

Our classmates know better than to argue; at this point, it’s common knowledge that I’m frequently a target in these situations. There are scattered shrieks and sounds of pain as people start climbing over one another to either get to the door or as far away from me as they can. Gabby closes her fist and black smoke begins swirling around it, obstructing her hand from view. I summon what power I can, producing a ball of flame that hovers a foot or so in front of me. It sure ain’t flashy, but it works in a pinch.

Kelly, for her credit, doesn’t seem phased. She shakes her bangs out of her eyes and stares me down, the silver ball and chain still swinging circles over her head. She takes a menacing step towards me and Gabby steps forward, her normally dark-brown eyes have gone completely black and she’s starting to levitate.

“Back off, bitch.” Gabby is almost growling.

“You’re next, demon.” With that, Kelly screams and swings the ball at me. It slams into the ground just in front of me and I end up falling over. I curse and crawl backward, trying to put some space between us.

Gabby lands behind me, grabbing my arm and pulling me almost to the end of the row of seats. I close my eyes, feeling white-hot flame jump to my fingers. When I open my eyes again, Kelly is sprinting towards me. Gabby reaches out, the smoke that had been curling around her fingers shoots forward in thick tendrils, wrapping around the chain and severing it. The heavy ball goes flying and breaks an almost perfect hole in the wall behind me.

Kelly growls and loosens her grip on the chain, letting it uncoil itself from her forearm. She starts swinging it like a whip, splintering the backs of several chairs and denting the floor as she goes. “You die today, Spawn of Sata--” Her threat switches into a high-pitched shriek as her legs go out from under her and she’s lifted into the air.

I sit up fast, the flames still crackling around my fingers. Gabby still has her hand on my arm, but her grip goes slightly lax.

“Morningstar, Laurent.” The gruff voice of our principal calls out from near the door. He has a fist in the air, dark magic swirling around him. “Are you both okay?”

“Yeah,” I stand and pull Gabby up with me. Her claws (talons?) are digging into my skin.

“Good.” Principal Mephistopheles clenches his fist a little tighter and I see Kelly start to squirm more. “Both of you go to my office right now, I’ll be there soon.”

I nod, wrapping an arm around my friend and carefully leading her out the door. Gabby doesn’t speak as we walk.