Chapter 2

Disciplinary actions must be handled with great care at the palace, for it must not be so known that the whole court whispers about it behind one’s back, but not so unknown that it does not take effect.
            Alas, when a maid had overheard our conversation in the hall, which had included Josiah’s scandalous accusation of the master and Yasmine, certain precautions had to have taken place, and I made sure that no other big-mouthed wench would run her mouth of the tale.

            She sat in the corner, twiddling her thumbs and looking out the window, pretending to be anywhere but in my presence. A fair woman she was indeed, long red tendrils cascaded down her back as her head was cast downward in shame.

            “Evadne, none of what you heard can ever be repeated. Do I make myself clear?” I asked, issuing a silent threat to the tiny girl. She nodded slowly, and attempted to get up from her seated position before I pushed her back down. She gasped slightly, her eyes widening.

            “I want to hear you say this before I let you leave,” I warned her, and she gulped. She looked behind me in and cowered, and I twitched my nose in annoyance. I just wanted this to be over with already.

            “Perhaps we are taking the wrong approach, Klaus,” the voice drawled, and Josiah came into the light and pulled out a switch blade, “cutting her tongue will make sure that she does not blabber her giant mouth around the entire castle, spreading lies and vicious rumors.”

            Evadne paled, “I swear I will not tell a soul!”

            I stared at her for a while, before nodding my head, “I trust that you understand that if you have the gall to defy our wishes, you will die.”
            “Don’t even think about whispering any of this to Keren either,” Josiah cut in, “if that woman knows any of this no threat could stop her tongue. We’d have to dispose of it for her.”

            The small woman bowed, over and over again, thanking us for our mercy. We glared at her as she scurried past us, practically tripping over herself as she attempted to put as much space in between herself and us as possible.

            “Spineless woman,” Josiah huffed, putting the blade back into his pocket.

            Ignoring the cocky man, I left the room, annoyed that my day has practically been spent having to listen to him fighting with someone, whether it be Yasmine or Evadne. Though, I suppose I shouldn’t complain about time wasted, my days are endless.

            It all started with curiosity. I smiled weakly to myself, remembering the day I became what I now am.

             In the early days, I was one of the Watchers, one of the angels dispatched by God to guard and watch over the humans. And that I did; I watched as a man and woman laughed together, and made love under the stars of Nod. I witnessed this passion and realized it was deeper than any relationship I had ever known.

            My heart pummeled with a longing for the company of another being. I wanted to know what it would feel like, having a relationship with someone other than God. I wanted a connection, a deep rooted spiritual, emotional, and physical connection with another soul.

            There was one woman who had caught my eye in particular; a rose haired human girl who was beautiful and innocent and holy in my eyes. And I realized I wanted to get to know her. I didn’t want to just watch her from above, wondering what it would be like to meet her. I wanted to talk to the girl, to laugh with her and to see if there something more to this life. Could this long, empty life be filled with a new purpose?

            I was amazed to find out that I was not the only Watcher entranced by these lovely creatures. Out of foolishness, I listened to the plans of another angel in my unit; his name was Samyaza, and I thought he was a great leader. He prodded the angels, who like myself had fallen victim to the beauty of humanity, to revolt against God’s grasp and engage with the humans.

            And I felt free. Free of the inhibitions that being an angel forced down upon my back. I was free to love and delight in sin and other natural desires that I had been told so long to suppress. And I met her; I defied the Highest One, and ignored everything that I was brought up to know. She was amazed and terrified at my glowing form, but she allowed me into her life. For twelve days and nights, she was mine.

            Good things never last long, however, and I was punished for my greed. I was pushed out of paradise and thrown into the darkness of Gahenna. My wings were ripped from my flesh, and my body grew cold.

            I hated myself. I hated what I had done. I hated Samyaza for convincing me so easily. And most of all, I hated the Highest One. The Highest One, known to you mortals as God or the Lord, restricted too many pleasures from us. It was His fault, and now, because I found happiness in my freedom, I could no longer bathe in the beauty of Paradise. I had become a demon, a soulless monster that had nothing to look forward to then an eternity in the fiery pits of Hell. Perhaps not even Judgment Day could save my soul.

            The King of the Underworld had witnessed my affliction, and was amused my lust and desire for freedom. He offered me a proposition: I would be spared from an eternity of torture, if I would collect the tainted human spirits of the world, and bring them to Gahenna. In return, he would allow me to roam the Earth whenever I so pleased. And I accepted, and became the Horseman of Death.

            I suppose I should consider myself lucky.

            A scream echoed in the distance, and I stopped my musing to listen closely. I smiled slightly, I could recognize that scream anywhere. Charles Manson. He had drowned seventeen prostitutes in the same river before I took him in. Now he’s being given the Chinese water torture here. Fitting, I should think.

            “So when’s your next transfer coming in?” a voice asked, and I looked behind me to find a dark orbs glaring at me. Afton Lex, Nolan’s chief advisor, had often attempted to bring me out of the prince’s favor. The power hungry demon did not like that I had gotten away with a lot of problems that, if it had been any other demon, would have been cast back down into the torture of the darkness.

            “The prince has asked me to do a special assignment for him,” I gloated, knowing that this news would only annoy him further. I was correct, and his mouth only snarled larger.

            “Then you had better get going,” he claimed, crossing his arms in an attempt to seem intimidating. If it was anybody but me, he would have been. I could hardly be intimidated by vermin like him.

            “I was just about to.”

            “Good,” he cut off, “you wouldn’t want him angry now would you,” he smiled that sick, twisted smile, “Oh, and bring Yasmine with you. She’s making a scene in the lounge.”

            And with that I ran off, ignoring the chuckling from behind me and sharpening my senses to the ruckus in the lounge. I winced; I believe that I was the sound of a chair breaking apart. Another smash…and that was the piano.

            “Woman, calm you down! She may not even be there!” Josiah hollered, and I came in to see him holding Yasmine’s arms back as she struggled violently against him. She won, of course, and pushed him away as she tried to get another chair. I grabbed her before she could do more harm.

            “Honestly, what is the matter?” I cried, as she tried to shake me off as well. Luckily I was larger than Josiah, so she could not throw me off so easily. She continued to huff though, and managed to grit out, “She’ll be there!”

            “Who will be there?” I asked calmly, and she howled, “Ariel!”

            Ariel. One of the four archangels, she is more commonly known as Uriel. Yes, another biblical typo for you, like Yasmine, she is also wrongly identified as a male.

            “If Nolan wants you there, you go there…there is no fussing�"”

            “You don’t understand, beast! I despise her! Just imagine how you’d feel if you were stuck in a room having to talk to that awful brute Raphael.”

            Josiah sucked his teeth in, but said nothing.

            “And you, Klaus! You are going to have to meet with Gabriel, and he�"”

            “And he is someone who I have come to respect and learn to deal with,” I replied, “Listen, we all hate our counterparts, but we have had thousands upon thousands of years now to learn how to get along and act civil with them. Lord Nolan has specifically assigned us this task because he believed that we could act civil, which is exactly why Josiah�"” “Hey!” “was not asked because he has a history of acting up with Raphael around. He doesn’t want to have to hear about you acting like a stubborn child.”

            She pouted, “I’m not acting like a child�"”

            I snorted, letting go of her shoulders and gesturing around the room, “And what do you call this?”

            A painting fell across the room and broke in half.

            I raised an eyebrow and she smiled sheepishly, “I guess I am acting a bit melodramatic.”

            Josiah laughed, “A bit?”

            I shook my head, “Either way, if the master wants us to do something, we do it without complaint. We do his bidding with pleasure, we obey without restraint. Nolan does not tolerate any opposition to his rule, and your whining would anger him.”

            She understood plainly. At the moment, she was in the master’s favor, perhaps even more so than myself. He had trusted her with more secrets than he had trusted me, and that was not something to give up so readily just because of a heated rivalry. To be in the trust of the prince was to be invincible; the lord could see to it in a matter of seconds that any ill will or whisper set against you was destroyed. It is the reason that while Afton Lex is hated by almost every demon in the palace, he is still seated in power. His many years of complete servitude and obedience have granted him access to many of the palace secrets, even with his lower class status.

            Yasmine walked across the room and put the painting back in its place, “When do we leave?”

            “We leave as soon as the barrier is ready.”

 

            Crossing the barrier to the human world was not a difficult task itself; however, certain precautions had to have taken place in order to make such a journey. I, myself, obviously cross over all the time; however, taking Yasmine would require more effort and make the barrier smaller than it should be. This makes it easier for souls to escape, and it is also my job to bring those souls back before they can cause more havoc.

            Thus, we require guards to protect the barrier so that these souls don’t get out. However, finding a trustful guard always turns out to be a problem. While our word rules, demons are not the most obedient of beings and tend to find ways to slip past our watchful eyes. Guards are easily bought off, and then claim to have accidently missed them sliding through. And while lies are usually sniffed out, the whole ordeal can be a long and tiring process.

            Afton Lex was thus assigned to guard duty, though he complained endlessly that he had better things to worry about. Another demon, Lange, who was young and unexperienced stood by, and while he couldn’t defend worth his dollar, he was trustworthy. I surveyed him, he seemed confident enough.

            “Make sure no soul gets through,” I repeated, probably for the hundredth time by the looks on their faces, “I do not wish to have to deter my work to pick up a few humans.”

            “Ah yes,” the older demon growled, “such a pity it would be to waste your time.”

            I smiled slightly, I knew that I was deterring him from probably more important work, but I had not trusted anyone else. While he was largely intolerable, he wasn’t incompetent, and should stop any demon from escaping in a heartbeat.

            “No soul is going to get past us, sire,” the younger one piped, huffing out his chest in youthful pride, “Not one.”      

            A laugh like the sound of tinkling bells chimed behind us, and Yasmine came out and took the boy in her arms, kissing his head, “Of course not,” she giggled, “With such a strong guard to protect the barrier.”

            The boy’s eyes drifted to Afton and she laughed more, “Not him, you daft child. You!”

            Lange’s fair skin blushed scarlet and she continued to laugh, and I decided to step in, “Come, Yasmine, we should be going.”

            She flirtatiously waved her thin wrist at the boy, winking as she did so as we crossed the barrier together. Crossing the barrier is an odd feeling, akin to dropping down a large bump on a rollercoaster or skiing down a steep slope. Your stomach jumps up to your heart and your hands stumble around in nothingness as you attempt to grab on to something sturdy. You have an impulse to purge everything from your stomach, yet you are unable to. You can’t see anything; you lose all senses all at once in one second, and in the next second your senses are overwhelming. This rotation seems to go on for eternity, though it lasts only a matter of seconds, and when you finally arrive to the human world it all stops. Breathing steadies, heartbeat slows, and everything returns to normal.

            Life in the human world had changed dramatically, which could be given thanks to Josiah. It was the year 3012, and most of the world been overthrown by the dictator Lucius Dionysus. The tyrant’s dynasty was continuously expanding as well, and his kingdom demanded that his people view him as a God.

            Those who rebelled against his rule had found themselves facing the cold steel of an axe blade, cut down in the middle of whatever city’s plaza as an example. Millions were murdered for conspiracy against the Lord throughout the years, and only a few now stand against the reign of terror. Rebels found themselves hiding underground, while the rest of the population tried to live day by day as normal as possible. They drank, they laughed, they partied, and they worshiped Dionysus as their acknowledged and agreed upon deity.

            The United States was one of the last countries to submit to Dionysus and had rebelled against his supreme for over ten years. However, the remaining countries of the world had been overthrown in no time, and with Canada at its front and the South Americas from below, it could no longer hold out. Supplies had stopped being imported and country had no choice but to surrender its free will. The citizens there were punished worst of all, the rebels’ deaths broadcasted to the entire world to be set as an example of. Guards highly trained in hand to hand combat and skilled with a vast amount of weapons, named Observers, reign terror on citizens, ending any suspected cases of revolution.
            I searched the area for Observers when I got up, and found that I picked a good location. Yasmine was still on the ground, currently panting heavily. She raised a hand to her head and coughed severely. I helped the woman to her feet and she groaned.

            “Everything is dancing,” she moaned, as she held on to me in order to recover her senses. Her jade eyes were crossed and her forehead sweaty and I flicked her with my fingers to wake her up. I let her go and she stumbled a bit, but regained her footing quickly. She frowned and looked around; we landed in a dark alley way in the Back Bay neighborhood.  

            “Where are we?” she asked, obviously displeased that we had not arrived in a nicer environment. We dusted ourselves off, and I searched for a street sign. A stray cat walked up to Yasmine and she started stroking the furry beast.

            “Washington Street is that way,” I answered, and walked out of the alley. Yasmine followed, the cat trailing not too far behind.  She remained confused.

            “Washington Street where?”
            “The South End in Boston, any more questions?” I asked annoyed, continuing to make my way down the street through the crowds of busy bodied civilians. It was the middle of January, and the air was so bitterly cold they could see their puffs of breath. Yasmine drew her coat closer to her body and stuffed her face into her fur scarf.
            “But why?” she continued to whine, and I covered my ears to stop the painful drumming her voice was causing. 

            “Because we are going to see Gabriel, and this is where he is,” I responded again, hoping that this would cease her questioning. She seemed content, however, and we went on in silence, the only noise being the occasional purring of the feline now resting happily in the demon woman’s arms. We carefully avoided the aluminum cans littered around the streets and the junk from the overturned trash barrels, which dirty, oversized homeless men continued to scavenge through. Yasmine gasped at their haggard appearance and upturned her nose. I laughed at her ignorance.

            “Act repulsed all you want, this is all because of you,” I commented, making the woman curl her lip up even more. She obviously was displeased to see the outcomes of her messy handiwork.

            Finally we reached our destination; a large, old cathedral sitting tall and grand amongst the larger business buildings in the neighborhood. It once shone out in a beacon of light in a depressed area of the world. Now the ruby and emerald shards scattered the empty dark halls, as the stained glass windows were broken with an assortment of household items. DIONYSUS IS THE DEVIL was sprayed in neon paints of pinks and blues on the worn away limestone.

            “The Cathedral of the Holy Cross” I whispered, “the largest Roman Catholic Church in all of New England. Seems fitting he’d be here.”

            Yasmine looked up at the house of worship hesitantly, “Can we step foot in there?”

            I peered over amused, “Why wouldn’t we be able to?” and with that I stepped into the church, with her following skeptically behind. Marble statues of the Virgin Queen and of saints passed had fallen a long time ago, parts broken off in several places around the church. The golden paint was beginning to peel and the candles that had been lit so long ago during the days of rebellion had been left untouched. The books, which are at least sixty years old, have pages torn across the floor and were yellowing with age.

            Yasmine shifted awkwardly behind me.

            “We should not be in here,” she muttered to herself. Finally, there he was, kneeling upon a pew with his hands folded in prayer. His blonde waves tumbled softly down the nape of his neck as it bent forward, his perfect lips whispering softly. We slowly crept into the pew behind him and sat down, waiting patiently for his ritual to be over. Finally, he blessed himself, before turning his eyes towards two patient and silent sinners.

            To be in the presence of an angel can only be a likened to an infant swaddled in the warm and loving embrace of his mother. While you are not quite sure what or who this protector of yours is, you feel as if you can trust this being one hundred percent. You rely on this warmth, desire it and worship it. This is how the messengers of God are able to bring so many people to believe their revelations; their confident assurance and pleasurable company provides as close a comfort as one can get with the absence of God.

            Gabriel, however, offered no warm comfort to us as we greeted him, his golden eyes narrowing in distrust at our forced smiles, “What are you doing cavorting in the house of the Lord, you mock Him with your presence,” he snapped violently. Yasmine glanced quickly at his shoulders expecting to see silvery wings burst out in anger. I remained unfazed.

            “Gabriel, I thought I would find you here,” I replied charmingly, “I am regretful that my arrival here has made you upset, I was hoping that we could have a civil conversation regarding the possible and most probable beginning of a council that Lord Nolan was requested.”

            “We do not answer his beck and call,” he answered sharply, “What is it that he wants?”

            “He requests a council to discuss your activity regarding the seven daggers of Megiddo,” I said slowly, and his eyes iced.

            “You can understand why we cannot reveal this information, can you not?” Gabriel replied coldly, “It is our sole duty to protect these from his grasp.”

            “We don’t expect you to,” I answered quickly, before he could walk away in anger, “But it seems that one of the daggers that we did manage to acquire has been stolen. It has come to our attention that it would be impossible for one your lot to do so. However, if there was a spy�"”

            “You assume too quickly. There is no spy sent forth from us to deter your movements against The Highest One. We do not need to lower ourselves to such tactics, and you can inform your prince of that. Let him know, however, that so long as the daggers linger on Earth, under our ever watchful eyes, his goal remains hopeless. He will never be able to collect all seven, and he will fail in the end. Tell him it is better if he just lurked in the shadow, and that taking the offense is fruitless.”

            I looked around us, at the broken idols and snapped, “If His will is so powerful then why is the world in ruins?”

            Gabriel blinked, then smiled slightly and shook his head. He wasn’t going to say anything in regards to that apparently. Not that I’d imagine he would; God would never leave the world in ruin like this if there wasn’t a reason to it.

            I sighed; I couldn’t go back to my prince with this. However, it seemed that the seraph had enough of our company, for he started to retreat to the back of the church. He smiled slightly, back at us, his eyes brightening; “Fear not,” he said, “we do not mean to start war. If you need information to tell your prince, tell him that there is a spy. That should keep him busy for a while.” And with a hearty laugh he was gone.
            Yasmine scowled, “He is mocking us. We can’t lie.”
            No, we couldn’t lie. The prince was too intelligent for that. However, it would only angry him further if we retold the archangel’s message. And he would be enflamed to know that we had accomplished nothing, and that there would be no council. Or found dagger.
            “Blasted,” I muttered. Yasmine shrugged.
            “Maybe he was lying about there not being a spy,” she suggested. I snorted.
            “Not likely, there is nothing to gain for him by lying. He cares not for the spy, if there was indeed such an individual, as it is mostly likely a demon. And a class three demon at that, he would have no other need for such a creature. He could not entice it with the promise of salvation; it is too low a monster for such sweetness. The only demon he could contact a space in the Promise Land for is a first class demon, and there are very few and far between of us left.”

            Perhaps something should be explained about the different classes of beasts in the land of Gahenna. There was the One Ruler, of course, who ruled over all the creatures of the kingdom. The next in line was the Prince, Nolan, who would eventually take the place of the One Ruler at the next revelation.

After that, were the first class demons, which were comprised of fallen angels, many of which that fell during the first rebellion of the Sacred Land. They had followed the commands of Satan and, in doing so, were thrust from paradise. Yasmine was one of those original angels, as was Afton Lex. I, being a fallen angel, was also considered a first class demon. Not many of us existed, however, because it was considered one of the most foolish actions in the world to disobey the Lord.

            And yet I don’t believe any of us regret our decisions.

            Second Class demons were comprised of demons that were created by the One Ruler to help command the lesser, third class demons of Gahenna and had the abilities to act as mediators between the human filth of the world and Hell. As far as I know, Josiah is a second class demon, though his true origins are unknown to me. They take the shape of humans, like us, and have all the beauty and grace that First Class Demons have. Their ears, however, were pointed, similarly to the Prince and the One Ruler, while our shapes remained reminiscent of the angels we once were.

            Lastly, the third class demons were ill to look upon, for their form resembled nothing of the dark beauty of second class demons or the fairness of first class. They had eyes like cats, and nostrils like snakes. Yellow fangs adorned their greasy mouths, and they spit more than they speak. These were the Devil’s soldiers, assigned to torment the souls of deceased humans. They had no dealings with the living, however, and were created for the sole purpose of performing dirty work.

            Such creatures were abhorred by everyone, angels and demons alike.

            “So what shall we do?” Yasmine spoke up, waking me from my musing. There wasn’t much we could do. It would do no good to lie to Nolan, nor would we want to enrage his wrath upon the angels.

            “We need to find a dagger of seven,” I decided at last, “Only then will he forgive us and we can return in peace.”

Reviews

[Sir Drift & Mr. Pulse]

Demons who have pity and are seduced by women, very good add to the book, and then presenting the Archangel Uriel, smart. Enjoying much, I like how you are twisting this classic story