He felt alive. It was a strange sensation, so distant in time that he had almost forgotten it. Granted, he had not been dead for as long as other devils, but his days spent in hell still seemed uncountable.

Samuel kept taking deep breaths, letting his fangs show while he swallowed the cool air of the twilight. He also kept chuckling darkly while he brushed and examined his body, for it no longer felt as rotten inside. No, breaching the barrier and emerging in this realm had changed him, even if only in a faint manner.

He slowly looked down, at his feet. There were black markings where he had emerged, the grass there scorched and reduced to ashes. If any human were to glance at that small spot, they would swear the earth had been melted and pierced by hellish flames. It had been.

Free, as I should have been before.

He had chased many wisps. They were always taken by his pack or lost to the rapaciousness of other fiends. He never had escaped before… but he knew what to do. Part of him was afraid, of himself, what little remained of his lost humanity. His very soul growled, allured by an instinct that compelled him to move. Somehow, he was aware of all that his escape implied.

He was ravenous, yet that feeling was invigorating and empowering. Without much thought, he took a step forward, the first of the many he would take to seek prey. Maybe, if any hunter had been roaming the woods, he would have been mistaken for a deer. The sight would have still been dreadful. His horns were sharper than the antlers of those animals, black as coal. His hooves were slim, their edges far too knife-like. Behind him twirled his long-spiked tail, which would have clued any human to the fact that he was no elk.

Those features faded as he reached the edge of the woods. He stepped onto a lonely road while his demonic traits dissipated into dust, to fall and be dragged away with the wind.

He eyed the distant lights ahead, not ones cast by the moon or stars. The green glow of his predatory gaze faded a bit, turning more human. He willingly hid his true nature, interested in the secluded gas station.

Each of his intent steps on the concrete broke the silence, yet there was no one to hear them. There was nothing but that place for miles; his appearance was convenient, concealed. Other demons were sometimes unlucky, tearing into the realm in far more crowded locations.

Luck was finally on his side. It was something he relished, remembering every single moment he experienced since he suffered his unfair demise. He had always been proud and self-centered, yet that demeanor only intensified in his death.

He had no sympathy for anyone, much less for ones who sought the help of others. At last, after some minutes, his shadow brushed the station. His green eyes fixated on the figure that rested near some dumpsters, asleep with a sign dangling from his hands.

Samuel loomed over the homeless man darkly, pondering over multiple things in his conceited mind. As he glanced down at his own tattered clothes, he considered ripping that coat off him. In the end, however, he scoffed at the idea.

No, he would not wear such garments. They were unbecoming of him. Still, he did need new ones, asap. It was not only because he was donning what he had died with, a suit that would raise a few eyebrows due to the whims of fashion; what would arise most suspicions was its condition. If that beggar was awake, he would have sworn he had come out of a coal mine, perhaps a battlefield.

Yes, he had to fix his appearance. Hiding his tail, hooves and horns would not be enough. He smirked when he spotted a door, which was not too far from the secluded dumpsters. It was definitely not the one that led into the store. As he neared it, multiple unpleasant smells hit him like a brick; it did not help that his senses had been sharpened by his descent into hell.

A bathroom.

Kept away, far from the store. There was a lock on its door, but it was now on the floor, broken. The people that stopped in this place were not the kind that would ask politely for the key.

Samuel would have twirled his tail in interest, because he could tell that there was someone in there. As well, that person was holding something that was slightly familiar. The scent was different, but not that much.

Indeed, when he pushed the door open and invited himself into the dimly lighted bathroom, he saw a shadow. Someone was in one of the stalls. They were certainly not there to attend to usual human needs.

Now, he was a demon, and definitely rude, but not enough to barge in there and interrupt something he had done in life too. Whatever drug was being consumed, it had to be a new one. He had dealt many in his time, after all.   

With all the calmness in the world, he stepped closer to a mirror. It was broken, but not enough to prevent him from looking at himself. He leaned his head and brushed his short, spiked hair, sticking out his non-forked tongue as he noted how dusty it was.

The person in the stall did not hear him get into the bathroom due to his sneaky steps, but they certainly heard the faucet being turned. Samuel hinted no care for that fact, focusing on running some water through his hair and face to get rid of the ashes.

The stall opened eventually, and that was when Sam hid the claws he had re-assembled to comb his hair. He ran his human fingers through his black flicks and smiled sharply, not threatened at all by the buff guy that stepped out to glare at him.

The man had stopped shooting up some drugs to yell him out of the bathroom, bothered by his presence. He would have, but the words died in his mouth. Samuel laughed silently, amused by how the addict stared at him in pure bafflement.

“Yeah, I look worse than that beggar out there, huh?” He licked his lips, his eyes narrowing at the black leather clothes the man wore. “You, on the other hand…”

With that comment, he finally decided to ditch his own black clothes, which had been gray before they endured the ashen winds of hell. When he walked out of the bathroom, he did so while tugging at his new leather jacket, cracking his neck with a satisfied grin. His smug stride towards the store was decided, but he still halted by the beggar near the dumpsters.

He gave the homeless man another arrogant glance, and then he shrugged and searched through his new pockets. The sound of a few coins falling into the beggar’s plate finally woke him up, at which point Sam simply walked away.

There was not only money in the jacket. He could make some profit with the substances that guy had not taken yet. With the beating he gave him, he could get the high he sought in a hospital, thanks to a good dose of painkillers.

Samuel stood by the gas dispensers, looking down at the single lone vehicle. A motorbike. It was strange to look at, nothing like the cars and bikes of his time. It was not his old ford V-8… but it would do.

After twirling the keys he stole like he would his tail, he turned on the engine, noting how the tank had been filled to its fullest.

“Heh!” He slammed his feet and revved, accelerating away into the night with one last remark. “Thanks again, sucker!”

Nobody else saw him as he drove away through the dark road, headed east. It did not take too long for his sharp eyes to see a sign, a welcoming one. The nearest city was far… but the population number was enticing.

Humanity was growing, a real pest. There was no way he could not find a sinner or two, many fools he could exploit. Still, who he would kill and devour, that was the real question. He needed to find purity, one that he could taint.

Luck be a lady…

He hummed that song, letting his fangs reappear as he pondered death.