Pride & Justice: A Wary Truce
warnings: teenage bullying, teenage hooligans doing vandalism, bullying, yelling
Banner art by @auroblaze
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Pride swung his tail over the side of the bench, stretched out on his back. It was bumpy and uncomfortable, but he’d take it over laying in the dirt. The clouds of smoke swirling from his horns put a gray haze over his view of the starry night sky. It didn’t bother him—stars didn’t hold all that much charm for him.
The one thing Pride definitely held was boredom. He never thought he’d get tired of pushing humans souls along the precipice of damnation, but the impossible inched close to becoming reality. He wanted to do something else—to go somewhere else. His options were annoyingly limited.
Earth sucked, he didn’t want to stay here anymore. If he never had to set foot in Hell again, it would be too soon. Trying to sneak into Heaven again was a recipe for getting dissolved to ashes before he reached the gates—there was no way they’d let their guard down so soon. Pride wasn’t sure he believed it, but even if Justice kept his promise and told everyone he was dead, the holy realm was nothing if not paranoid. So what was left? Purgatory?
Pride raked his hands down his face, pulling at his eyelids and stretching his cheeks. Making that contract was the stupidest thing he’d ever done.
A sweet-sour sting on his tongue interrupted his frustrated thoughts. There was a human around, maybe even a few, who had more than a little pent-up sin. Curious, Pride sat up to survey the park that had become his little domain.
The dim streetlamps that washed the park in gray light shadowed an entire group of humans. Young ones, by the looks of it, rolling toward the playground with excited confidence. They shoved each other, hooted, and cackled—all except one. A meek looking one hung far back in the group, arms crossed over a bulky sweatshirt. Pride folded his arms on the back of the bench, trying to figure out which one of them called his name.
“—gonna do it,” the leader of the group said, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder.
“You don’t think so?” another taunted.
“No way, man, he’s too much of a pussy.”
One by one, the main group turned around to sneer at their straggler. He balled his fists up, and Pride quirked an eyebrow at the flavor that flooded over his tongue. Icy-hot wrath and tart pride at once.
“I’m not a pussy,” the straggler insisted.
“Then prove it,” demanded the leader. He shoved the bag into the meek one’s chest. “Pussy.”
