The most beautiful I've witnessed are from hell. They exhibit some sort of alluring aura you could not leave, nor embrace. Though once their masks are broken you will behold the most hideous body that even Raphael would recoil in calamity. While their beauty brings tears to the eyes, it is false. For the tears you shed will be filled with envy and hate you do not realize. That is when they know they've succeeded.
When I was first created I was almost 'destroyed' by a beautiful demon, a succubi, she could have been.
She was so beautiful, tears flowed down my cheeks that I could not comprehend. At that moment I thought I felt pure joy, though Belphegor later told me I was loathing her beauty for myself. I took one step closer, even though I knew not to touch -like a secret rule whispered in the wind.
Sensing my stare she Immediately glided towards me, so gracefully! I grinned ignorantly as her delicate fingers brushed against my neck. I heard someone yelp in surprise and tried to see who it might have been when I realized it was me. Her once delicate fingers clutched to my neck like stone claws. Her laughter felt like a light piano masterpiece with dark undertones you weren't meant to hear. I tried to free myself by scratching her hands, but she just laughed more, her grip tightening ever so slightly. One last scream gurgled out of my mouth before Belphegor was by my side.
He yelled at the demon "Do you know what you're doing imbecile! This is Edward, MY subordinate" She was confused for a second, then fear flooded her eyes. She was speaking to Belphegor, the devil of Sloth.
Her grip was still strong, fear had paralyzed her and she could not retreat. Belphegor lips slowly curled into a mischievous grin. He unsheathed his tarnished sword which was as dull as a butter knife and so rusty you could not distinguish the metal from rust or know when its last proper cleaning was.
Ever so slowly he thrust the blades tip towards her chest and drove the blade until black blood exuded her body. Her curdled scream could be heard for days. I can still hear it, and it brings shivers to my skin. The aura she once held now vanished. Before my eyes was not the beautiful woman with a cloud of gold hair or milky jade eyes, that looked as though gold dust was sprinkled about her.
It now seemed as though pure death emanated the air around her. She was no longer angelic. Once, her skin was firm and vibrant, now was crinkled and sagged. Her eyes were not pure black as I would have expected but as white as a moths cocoon. And looked as though something was trapped from the inside, trying to escape. Her voice was no longer that of a piano but of many screams of the damned. I'm guessing all the people she killed.
Belphegor left her and told me to follow. I later understood what he did. She was a demon of Asmodeus, devil of lust. Though he told me that all demons wear a glamor, you could tell what devil they come from by their true apearence.