Utia - first chapter
444 days ago
The world before the great Devil leader Burn was a very different place. It was far more violent and uncontrolled. It was a time where Angles enslave the Devils and saw them as pure evil. Demons walked the Earth and cause hell to all who lived on it. In some cases, whole Villages were erased or long forgotten.
Utia was a born in a very large family. Her mother was a royal Angel meaning she was a princess. She did not have a very easy childhood. She was the wild child of the family with many siblings. Many were much older than her. She was a middle child. Not the oldest and not the youngest. She was often forgotten or even left behind completely. Sometimes she had to help raise some of her younger siblings.
Warning not for the immature or the emotionally sensitive.
Utia’s Point of View:
Today is my seventh birthday and I have yet to receive a Happy Birthday. It is not like I was expecting one so I don’t mind. My day goes as it usually does. I work to take care of the babies. They are so young and impressionable so they need a mother. Currently, mom is in a meeting and sometimes I wonder why it would be more important than her own children. Why does she not hire a maid to help? Why am I stuck with this task? Why can’t my older siblings help me? Oh yeah, they are too busy with their training.
It is nice that I have a maid but she is my maid, she is my slave. It sometimes upsets me that there are slaves but it is the way things are. The woman is a Devil and I really hate Devils. They are just so untrustworthy. They are just pointless. Apparently, my Devil’s name is Ruth and she is considered low class. She has bright red skin like a disgusting demon. I feel like hiring a toll would be better because it would not look so disgustingly human.
“Ruth! That is not how it is done! You need to clean it properly! It is done like this, not like that sloppy work you are doing. Get it right you worthless monster!”
Ruth yelps and quickly try to do the task correctly. She is just hopelessly dumb.
“Why are you so ugly? Your horns are not even straight! You are just disgusting and useless! I hate you!” I take a take mess on the table and I throw it at her. The baby puke hits her face with a soft "slap". It gets in her eyes and all over her ugly face. Ruth tears up and cries, she falls to the ground and begs to me.
“Please, you’re highness. I beg you to forgive me! Whatever you say and do I know I disserve it. Just please forgive me!”
“Never! You are just a disgusting stain. Worthless things like you should never exist. You and your kind tarnish everything! Nothing that you can do can change what you are! You are no different than the demons. I wish mother would give me a better slave than you.”
Ruth cries and she begs for her life, as I walk to my father, there is nothing that she could possibly do that would change my mind.
“I ask for a new slave. This one is too ugly and imperfect! I disserve better!”
“Are you sure you want a new one?”
I nod my head and my father gives a long sigh. He then kills Ruth. Her blood spills on the marble floor beside me. Then father summons a new slave. This slave looks about my age and she looks more competent.
“Clean this mess up at once! I don’t have all day. The babies will need to be changed put to bed soon. If you don’t do as I ask you will end up like the left over’s of Ruth, now get to work!”
The Devil has reddish skin like Ruth but her horns are staring and her features are much nicer on the eyes. Hopefully, she will be better than Ruth.
As the day comes to an end the new Devil Gwen probes to be up to my standards. Also, mother never comes home and I never get a Happy Birthday. Then Gwen walks up to me.
“Happy Birthday your majesty. I am honored to be your humble slave. Anything you want I will grant you. I will try to at least.”
“Very well then. Bring home my mother.”
“As you wish.”
With that Gwen makes her way out. It is an impossible request but at least it gets the Devil away from me. I make my way to my father.
“Father? Why are there Devils? What is the point of them?”
“I am shocked that you don’t know Utia. They are a vital part of our world. We Angels control them so we can control the Demons. Without the Devils, we would be powerless against the Demons. It is like rock paper scissors. We are like the paper, the Devils are like the rock, and the demons are scissors. The paper smothers the rock, the rock crushes the scissors, and the scissors cut the paper. If the paper can use the rock to destroy the scissors then the paper is safe. It is as simple as that.”
“I see. Thank you for the explanation.” Just as I am about to leave I hear the sound of heels. My mother soon appears and she is holding Gwen in her hands. Well part of her. It is just Gwen’s head. My heart drops in horror at the sight but not of Gwen but of my mother. She looks livid. She suddenly grabs me by the arm and drags me along with her.
“You shall be punished for sending a slave to get me! I was a very important meeting! You need to learn to respect your mother’s time!”
I feel tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Is it so wrong? Is it wrong to want to see you on my birthday? My own mother?”
My mother freezes for a moment but her grip tightens. The look on her face looks murderous. For her to look at me in such a way I feel a true disconnect from her that I have never felt before. How is this woman, my mother? Does she even love me at all? The tears stream down my cheeks. She shoves me into my room, then she throws Gwen’s head into my lap then slams the door behind her.
With a scream of horror, I push the head away and it rolls onto the floor. Gwen’s face rolls where I can see her face. Her lifeless face looks to me with the last expression she most likely made before her death. Horror. It is a look of pure terror. My heart trembles at her pain and fear. I am fortunate enough that mother did not do that to me. Maybe because I am her daughter she did no kill me.
As I lay there all alone I find myself wishing I were dead. Why do I feel this way? It is my birthday. Then I remember that all my birthdays are spent alone. Why should I care this time? The clock tower strikes twelve, with a tired sigh I close my eyes and sleep.