An Eternity of Eclipse (3 page)

Even though I felt nothing for my family, I knew the right words to say to make my doctors believe that they were helping me. I knew they wouldn’t release me from that psychiatric hospital unless they felt I was getting better. Albeit there was nothing wrong with me to begin with, I knew what I had to do to get out. Everyday, I told them that I felt sad and guilty. And everyday, they would give me pills that I would always flush down the toilet and pretend that I was getting “better.”

That was my gift. I was a wonderful actress when I needed to be. 

When they thought that they were successful, the hospital finally released me. 

As I was the sole heir to my family’s fortune, it wasn’t difficult for me to find a place to live. From the age of sixteen and onwards, I led the life of an ordinary person. It wasn’t supposed to be easy for me to start life over since I had such a high profile case, yet, because everything seemed to fall into place and my anonymity remained intact, it all worked out in my favor. I was able to start anew with complete ease. It was as though a higher power was watching over me and making sure everything in my life went smoothly.

I was approaching my last year of college and was excited to graduate. I was thrilled to move on to bigger and better things. Everything was going great until I met someone who would change the course of my life. 

A guy.

And not just any guy, but a Demon.

A sinfully gorgeous, chain-smoking Demon who not only had the charms to make a submissive soul out of you, but also the cunningness to make a prey out of you. A Demon who not only took a strong liking to me, but a Demon adamant on helping me unravel the secrets of my life. 

“You have no idea how special you are, Gracie,” he once whispered, his voice soft like the sweetest velvet. “How meaningful your existence is.”

Although I knew nothing of what he was insinuating, he paid no mind to that. His voice beat with a knowledge that I didn’t have. He was confident that sooner or later, I would understand the contents of his words.

“But I’ll be your guide,” he assured me, his eyes holding mine with great promise.
Then, he whispered words that would perpetually sear my curiosity and lead me down a journey that would forever change my life. 

“I won’t only show you why Heaven cried the night of your birth, but I’ll also show you why Hell will kneel before you on the night of your resurrection.”

“There’s a Demon in all of us.”
01
: The Prince of Hell

The beginning of my end started on a cold October night in Seoul, Korea.

It was supposed to be a night like any other night. I was clubbing with my friends and like the carefree troublemakers we were (though debatably, I was anything but a troublemaker, just more of a bookworm), we were drunk off our asses. Well, my friends were. I was sober like still water.

Standing at a small stature of 5'2, excluding the five-inch heels I would wear to elevate my vertically challenged height, it was a wonder to anyone how someone like me could have such a high tolerance when it came to the consumption of alcohol. But pushing aside the impressiveness of my body's astounding ability to handle large intakes of alcohol, that night proved to be anything but normal for me.

With the blaring hip-hop music reverberating behind us, the cold crisp night waiting to engulf us, and the alcohol ready to devour us, our giggling selves clumsily ran into the wintriness of the night. Our balance was challenged every step of the way.

Being the most sober of the three, I made it a point to be the one holding on to my two friends as I walked them over to the silver cab we hailed. Truthfully, I had never been much of a partier. I preferred to spend my nights at home with a good book rather than outside partying. For the sake of appearing sociable, I agreed to go, knowing all too well that I would end up being the babysitter because I was the only one who could handle my liquor. This wasn’t an extracurricular activity that I happily took part in, but it was an obligation that I accepted nonetheless. I couldn’t fathom leaving my friends to fend for themselves—both against the alcohol or anyone who might be looking to take advantage of them in their inebriated state. 

“Careful, Ara,” I whispered, opening the door to help Ara in. Her long auburn hair fell listlessly over her face when I tucked her head into the car.

Once she was fully situated in the back seat, I helped her scoot down the seat in order to make room for Dawn. I took one last precaution by tucking the hem of her red dress underneath her thighs. I then whipped around to face Dawn with the swiftest of speed. I had left her to fend for herself in the war against gravity. I knew fairly well that intoxicated Dawn wouldn't be able to hold on any longer. Gravity was going to win this “battle” unless I swooped in for the rescue.

“Oof! Your turn, Dawn . . .” I said breathlessly, catching her right before she befriended the black asphalt. Her tied up brown hair smacked me right in the eye. Biting my lips to hold back a curse, I struggled to hold her while silently praying that she wouldn’t vomit on me.

“Hahahahahaha.”

I hurled a sharp glare at the laughing cab driver. I understood that the sight of three beautiful girls drunk off their asses was an entertaining scene for bored eyes, but I wasn't in the mood to be mocked, especially by someone I was about to give a lot of money to.

My death glare eviscerated the smile from his face. After catching the scowl, the cab driver clamped his mouth shut, uncomfortably cleared his throat, and removed his eyes from my line of sight. He kept his focus solidified on the empty street before him. 

As soon as I observed the fear in his eyes, a slight remorse overcame me. I berated myself for losing my composure and glaring at the poor man. What was I thinking? I sighed. Before permitting myself to succumb to regret, I reprioritized. At the moment, taking care of my friends took precedence over feeling guilt.

I returned my attention to Dawn. I discovered that she was still swaying dangerously in the limbo between lucidity and incoherence. The only difference in her appearance was that her eyes had turned into slits. She could scarcely keep herself awake. There was no question about it. The alcohol had undoubtedly taken over her body.

“Almost there,” I encouraged, helping her into the cab.

I turned to the cab driver after she was finally settled beside Ara.

Now intimidated by me, he did his best to avoid eye contact. An apologetic smile came over my face. I was feeling guiltier by the second for glaring at him. I was typically better at containing my temper. I lost myself briefly because Dawn and Ara had distracted me. I hoped he wouldn’t take my glare to heart.

I extended my hand out and offered him a piece of paper that had the prewritten address to the girls’ apartment. Along with their address was a thick wad of bills for the trip.

The cab driver cautiously grabbed the money and furrowed his brows in perplexity. He clearly thought the amount of money was too much for the short trip. His curious eyes locked on me as if saying, “You gave me too much money.”

“That's for the dinner they're going to throw up,” I answered in response to his unspoken confusion.

I closed the door and hauled ass before the cab driver had the chance to absorb the contents of my words. The last thing I needed was for him to refuse service to the girls in fear of them puking in his car.

Scurrying as quickly as my black Manolo Blahnik heels would allow me, I jumped onto the curb and let out a sigh of relief. Now that my responsibilities were done, I made my way home, the diamonds encrusting the straps of my heels blinking in pride every time the city lights kissed them.

Much like any other Saturday night, my neighborhood was busy with partygoers swaying about. They were drunk out of their minds, meandering the streets and looking for some fresh air before they honored another club with their presence. While they were elated with life, I was just plain exhausted.

I could sense that queasy feeling come alive within me again. It was the type of feeling that I dreaded; it was the type that demanded relief.

I shook my head at this annoying need within me. The curls of my long black hair swayed in the wind as I walked through the busy street, skirting around fellow pedestrians while surveying the block for someone who could help me with this unbearable unease.

My eyes lit up when I sighted an emaciated looking homeless man sitting in front of an under-construction building. His eyes barely open, he held his red cup out and asked the people walking by to spare some change. Another building down the block, I saw a group of semi-healthy looking homeless men sitting in the further corner of the alley.

I smiled to myself. I knew instantly that the old homeless man was the one I wanted to give my money to. He was the one to help mitigate this unbearable unease inside me.

I unzipped my wristlet and withdrew $600. I made my way over to him and deposited $100 into his cup. My hand briefly brushed his jacket, catching his attention.

“I hope this helps you out,” I said sweetly, staring down at him with kind eyes.

His once tired eyes enlarged. He peered up at me like I was an Angel in the night.

“Oh my God,” he responded a bit too loudly. He held the money up, examining it under the dim street lighting. After he concluded that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him—that I actually gave him that much money—he began to bow his head in incessant gratitude. “Thank you! Thank you so much! God bless you!”

“No problem. Please take care of yourself. Have a really good night,” I told him, my jovial voice traveling to the alleyway where the other homeless men were.

Their curious eyes peered in our direction. Even as I waved at him, I could see the other homeless men’s eyes light up when they realized that the old man was holding up $100.

I walked away slowly, feeling a heavy constriction fill my chest. The silence of the night became overbearing for me as the constriction became more agonizing.
My condition was starting to get worse
. I placed a hand over my chest and could feel the lightheadedness take form. I was having trouble breathing when—

“Hey old man! What are you holding there?” Voices from the alley behind me coursed into my ears. “Is that a $100?”

“N-no,” the old homeless man denied. His voice was wrought with distress. It was obvious that he regretted making such a spectacle of the donation. “N-no, it’s just a dollar. She just gave me a dollar.”

“Fucking bastard is lying,” said another man. His voice rippled with menace and greed. The beginnings of a physical struggle followed his words.

“No, please!” The old man’s voice echoed across the street. “Please, I need this money!” 

“Shut the hell up!”

The sound of fists hitting flesh penetrated the frigid air, rolling over to me like a beautiful symphony. In that chaotic moment, all that could be heard were the old homeless man’s pained screams.

Ah yes
, I thought in relief, rejoicing in the wretchedness filling the environment around me. This was exactly what I needed.

Turning away and leaving the liveliness of the club scene behind me, the constriction that once plagued my chest dispersed. I felt nothing but relaxation in the calm of the night. I could finally breathe again.

A genuine smile bloomed across my lips.

After feeling fully functional now that my needs had been quenched, I continued onward, purposely ignoring the excited voices of the homeless men who were ready to enjoy their stolen riches. As their footsteps pattered away in the opposite direction, I dialed the police. I urgently told them that someone needed their help because he had just been mugged. I made sure to inject stress and worry into the intonation of my voice. I turned briefly to see the homeless man sobbing to himself when I finished my call. Although his cries were music to my ears, it also acted like a sledgehammer to my conscience. I hoped that he would find the $500 I slipped into his jacket pocket soon. Hopefully that would help ease his misery.

“Sorry that it had to be you tonight,” I uttered quietly.

I dragged my eyes away from him and felt my smile broaden. As the memory of what occurred faded into the backdrop of my mind, the liveliness and chaos of my surroundings also faded. The further I treaded out of the party scene, the more serene the street became. The block had gotten quieter and foot traffic had thinned immensely. Soon, the only things that kept me company were the orange street lamps that illuminated the desolate road.

Although it was extremely quiet, I paid no mind to it because I felt no fear.

I gave a quiet sigh and tilted my head to gaze up at the night's sky. With the full moon hovering in view, the stars smiling in unison, and the dim illumination of streetlights flickering in the distance, it warmed my heart to feel like I was walking inside a picturesque painting. There was something about walking alone at night that I enjoyed immensely. It could be the beauty or the tranquility, but I always found myself at peace in such a setting.

Regrettably, the peace was short-lived when I felt a wisp of alarmingly cold air curl around me. Coldness crept down my spine. What the heck? I folded my bare arms to fend off the sudden chill. I was momentarily mystified. I did not feel any wind seconds prior. Where did this nasty chill come from?

I was several yards away from my apartment complex when someone decided to answer that question in a surprising way.

“Don't you know how dangerous it is for a pretty girl like you to walk alone at night?”

I tried.

I tried so hard not to flinch in fear when I heard the voice beside me. It took everything I had to not draw back in panic when I turned and saw that there was a stranger walking beside me. My throat grew dry while my heart rate tripled in speed.

There was no one else beside me moments ago.

Where did he come from?

My vigilant eyes slowly settled on him. Though I didn’t overtly flinch in fear, I knew the stranger caught the unease dancing in my flustered gaze.
So much for not wanting to appear frightened so the guy would run off
, I thought sullenly, trying to make out his face in the dimness of the night. It took a couple of seconds for my eyes to acclimate to the darkness that coated over him. Once I was finally able to make out his facial features, I mentally gasped for air at the sight before me.

Oh my . . .

I half expected the walking stalker to be an average looking hobo who was looking to mug me for some money. To my surprise, as my eyes inspected his features that were now visible under the glow of the full moon, I couldn't help but, despite the arguably dangerous predicament I found myself in, admire his gorgeous features.

Dressed in a dark red dress shirt, black pants, and black dress shoes, this striking guy was anything but a bum. I had seen my fair share of handsome guys, but this guy took the cake for being the most handsome thing I had ever seen. If anything, “handsome” was too serene of a word to describe him.

He had a strong bone structure that accentuated every inch of his face and skin that looked as smooth as fine cut diamond. Not to be outdone, his piercing honey-brown eyes locked me in their gaze, holding me captive for a few breathtaking seconds before my eyes involuntarily trailed over to his tempting lips. I gulped quietly. I honestly felt like I was looking at a model who had just stepped out of the pages of those glamorous magazines. As ridiculous as it sounded, he truly looked like a glorious Fallen Angel who had been sent down to earth to show me what perfection looked like.