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Sinful Love
Revised A/N: This fic was planned to be PWP?ish slashy fun-for-all between an angel and a demon, and then Plot decided to get in the way. A whole lot of Plot. But a simple Plot, no less. And there you have it.
Sinful Love
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
(This list is constantly updated).
Divinities:
GOD (The Creator)
JESUS CHRIST (The Son of God)
Angels:
AZIREFEL (The Angel of Winter)
GABRIEL (An Archangel, A Seraph, King of the First Heaven, The Great Cherubim, the Guardian Angel of Water)
JEHOEL (A Seraph)
KESTREL (A Power)
METATRON (King of the Angels and Supreme Seraph, Chief Angel of Death, God’s spokesangel)
MICHAEL (An Archangel, The Great Powers, A Seraph, Captain of the Hosts, Angel of War, Guardian Angel of Fire, etc etc)
NATHANAEL (A Seraph)
NEMPHIS (A Messenger Angel, Junior Assistant to Michael)
RAPHAEL (An Archangel, The Great Virtues, Prince of the Thrones, A Cherub, A Seraph and Guardian Angel of Wind)
RAZIEL (A Throne)
REICHIEL (A General of the Angel Army)
SAMAEL (The Angel of Demons, The Good & Evil Angel, An Angel of Death, King of the Fifth Heaven, A Power, Lieutenant-General of the Special Angelic Forces)
SERAPHIEL (A Seraph)
URIEL (An Angel of Death, Guardian of the Hellgates, A Seraph and Guardian Angel of Earth)
Demons:
ALECTO (A Fury, familiar of Carlyle)
ASMODEUS (The Satan of Lust)
ASTIROS (Love-slave of Lucifer)
ASTAROTH (The Satan of Sloth)
BALBERITH, AKA SUNDAY (Demon of Madness, Murder & Blasphemy, A Captain of the Infernal Legions, A Deep Lord of Misrule)
BEELZEBUB (The Satan of Gluttony, Lord of the Flies)
BELIAL (The Satan of Pride)
CARLYLE (The Satan of Wrath)
LEVIATHAN (The Satan of Envy)
LUCIFER (The Fallen Angel, The Destroyer, The Devourer, and Very Sexy Lord of Darkness)
MAMMON (The Satan of Avarice)
MEGAERA (A Fury, familiar of Carlyle)
MEPHISTOPHELES ERISTES THE THIRD (MEPHISTO) (A Lustful Demon)
TISIPHONE (A Fury, familiar of Carlyle)
VORAX (Lieutenant of Hell)
Humans:
A Little Girl
A Few Innocent Bystanders
Also features choirs of angels, booze, flaming swords, a Great Glass Elevator, and other strange phenomena.
Chapter One- Hell-spawn
Mephistopheles Eristes the Third, demon by form and nature, lay prostrate on the floor, face to the ground. As he was in his "natural" physical form, his bat-like wings were over his head, and his scaly tail lay humbly between his legs. The minor demon didn’t dare move. His superior, Vorax, lieutenant to Beezelbub, chief demon of the Abyss, was haranguing him.
"Incompetent arse," raged Vorax, his voice blackening the putrid air of Hell, "you’re a disgrace to all imps and demons alike. Why the great Satan Himself doesn’t kick your spindly tail to earth to suffer as humans suffer, I don’t know."
Mephisto thought of a number of smart remarks he could say in return, but managed to bite back his pointed tongue. Let Vorax blow himself out. Still playing humility, he pressed himself further into the ground.
"Also, we’ve noticed (that royal "we", Mephisto thought in disgust, curse all high-ranking demons except for Satan, may He shite on their heads), that you don’t seem to be pulling your weight around here, Mephisto. When was the last time you brought a soul in?" Vorax’s already slitted eyes slitted even further. Mephisto gulped.
"Um…" he said helpfully, raising his head off the floor to stare blankly into Vorax’s face.
"Your lovers don’t count," the higher demon said in disgust. He shuddered, his muscled reptilian body tensing at the thought of how many human lovers Mephisto had seduced, both male and female. Mephisto couldn’t stop a wicked grin spreading across his face. The last broad he’d had, a New Jersey girl, now that bird had been some-
"STOP SMILING AND LISTEN," Vorax thundered. Behind him his thick tail lashed menacingly, ready to flay this miscreant’s back if he didn’t shape up. Mephisto’s face made a beeline for the floor. Vorax smiled: oh, he’d love doing this. Just to see the expression on this idiot’s face.
"You," he purred suddenly, his foul voice all silk and malice, "have one last chance to try and…redeem yourself, as it were, to the High Powers of Hell. You must bring us a soul. But," he added, spite in every syllable, "you have three days to find a good catch. We want a quality soul from you, Mephisto, not some suicidal rent boy…" He smirked. "I’d go for a priest if I were you…for yourself because you’ll never do it in 300 years, hahahahaha!" Vorax shrieked with laughter.
Mephisto trembled, but Vorax wasn’t finished yet. "And if you don’t have a good soul for us in three days…you have to stay on Earth. Forever." The higher demon’s tone was cold, so cold it could’ve frozen Hell’s eternal flames. Vorax’s eyes danced. "Might as well repent yourself to God, Mephisto…he will be more merciful then Him."
"That got your attention, Hell-spawn, focus on that to keep you from mucking about on the job. Go to Earth. Now."
So saying, Vorax lashed out with his powerful tail, grabbed the unfortunate Mephisto around his waist and gave a mighty heave. Mephisto was flung upwards, screeching; he dropped his physical form just in time: he was sailing up through the earth at incredible speed, past the homey darkness of the Pit, past the roaring heat and screams of the damned. He himself was now nothing but the invisible, metaphysical forces that made up his being. Up and up through the rock and soil, he could see light ahead…
…and so the invisible demon was spat out of Hell through a manhole in London, near Trafalgar Square. He flew up eight feet before gravity snatched hold of him and brought him back to the concrete with an unceremonial splat.
Mephisto immediately cringed, wrapping his invisible wings around him, expecting the piercing, bright sun. None came. He peeked: it was night, the light he saw through the earth was a street-lamp. The air was bitter cold; it smelt of rain and fog. It was London in mid-winter, the demon realized. He righted himself. He could make out Nelson’s Column, soaring up into oblivion, see the bright colors and lights of the constantly streaming traffic, the endless parade of souls. Mephisto flicked his metaphysical tail. So many victims…but before he could snatch one, he must change his appearance.
Demons (and angels) were shape-shifters, they could change form at will. At their purest state, angels were pulsing essences of light, energy, and emotion, a bright core at their center signifying a head or heart. These fluxing energies could form the shape of wings, eyes, etc. More commonly they assumed a physical, human form with wings, the classic image. Or they could just appear human.
Demons, on the other hand, were evil spirits, made of malice, cruelty, or other sinful emotions. They too could assume human form…never to the benefit of any human they met. Mephisto himself only had enough power to assume a limited number of different forms, all animal. Higher demons could become a number of terrifying figures and apparitions, and Hell, Satan Itself, was nothing but evil in its purest form…when He did choose to take physical form, the result was guaranteed to send any man, no matter what his religious status, insane.
Mephisto transformed: at first he was visible in demon-form, but only for an instant. Then the scaly skin melted; running and molding itself, like wax. Veins and arteries appearing around bones, muscles in turn wrapping themselves around the skeletal frame. Soft flesh followed. And blood: rich, dark human blood pumped through his new limbs, and another curious sensation: a beating heart. Mephisto was human now, but for one last touch, clothes.
They appeared around him, black jeans and leather jacket, shirt, socks, boots, everything. Mephisto looked down at himself, admiring what he saw.
He was a fine specimen of a young man, looking anywhere between 18-22. A mop of fiery red hair cascaded from his head, a seductive red lock covering his right eye. He had kept his eyes their brilliant green, green and wicked. He ran a hand over his cheek: smooth, perfect young skin. Sensual lips and pearly white teeth, he had it all. Grinning, he adjusted his jacket. Naturally, his body was lean and well-toned, Mephisto wouldn’t have it any other way, not for someone of his ego.
Mephisto had used an array of human forms to snag his human lovers, and this carnation was his best. Gay or straight, men and women fell before him. Mephisto preened, he knew he was Sexy with a capital ‘S’. But he had kept a few features…he still had his tail and his wings, they were invisible to human eyes. He didn’t care if other spirits recognized him, not when he had a job to do.
Autumn is Hell’s time, and Mephisto gloried in being out in the cold, wintry air of London. The demon capered between light and shadow, down the sidewalks filled with people, exercising his new form. Soon his cheeks were radiant with cold and exertion, and he knew that made him even more beautiful, judging from the stares he was receiving, both jealous and admiring. Now all he had to do was find a "quality" soul…
The laughter and the sound of alcohol being poured did not escape his sharp demon senses. Turning, he saw a pub, The King’s Arms, across from him. Perfect, he thought, bless all high-ranking demons including Satan, may He still shite on their heads. He whooped and sauntered across the road to wreak his chaos on the pub’s patrons.
