Ever since Christianity began, men have talked about the end of the world, and the Rapture. It was like some far fetched dream that everyone had that some day, a big father figure creator would come down to make everything right again. The dead would return, be reunited with the living, Lucifer would be cast forever into the lake of fire, and eternal life would return to those that followed the one Lord God, the Almighty Father. Never did man take into account what role the Angels on high would play in all of this. For that matter, Angels themselves never even played that big of a role in the Bible, any of them, only as Messengers and at times, Avengers. They were either beautiful, as Gabriel was when he came to Mary, or as the Messenger and the Avenger when they came to Lot, or they were terrifying, being a mixture of animals and man, it seemed from the descriptions the old men wrote. Men believed vainly in Guardian Angels that God assigned to protect them. Poppycock, for the most part. Angels served God, true, and while the mortal men were his favored creations, Angels had other things to deal with than protecting them. Wars were fought, and people cried out for a savoir, clinging to the flimsy ideals of their forefathers. When the Rapture came, it was not at all what they had expected.

The first difference was that God was nowhere to be found. He was missing in action, you could say, when his terrifying and beautiful Angels came down to Earth, tired of the on going corruption and sin carried out by the favored creations of their Holy Father. Their free will had returned to them in His absence after being lost so long due to God’s fear of another rebellion. They were bitter and merciless, wielding weapons and powers that struck even the most evil of sinners with the ultimate fear of God. Angels were being of pure spirit, but the forms they took on Earth were those of man, which they claimed was their form, and their Father’s. “In his own image.” It happened all over the world, no matter the race, no matter the religion. Some places were completely wiped out, some left dwindling, while only the most holy of cities survived the first wave. Churches were overcrowded, the Pope stepped down, and military men even tried to fight the holy beings with their useless steel and iron guns. In one full glorious day, Earth was reclaimed by the Sons of God, the Angels. While the soil beneath their feet was still smoldering, the Seraphim divided the Earth into sections to be watched. The mighty Voices of God explained to the cowering populace of the world that their Holy Father had fallen silent, as if sleeping, and that the Angels believed them to be the cause, among the overpopulate place of Lucifer’s realm. The next day, they announced a war on Hell, which years later, ended in a stalemate.

Humans that disliked the dictatorship of the Angels sought the help of Demons to aid them, and the Demons readily joined their mortal brothers, for once in their existence not bothering with the contract of souls and other nonsense. The Devils, what became of the original Fallen’s, were what really led the rebellion, though. Some of them had been Lucifer’s right hand men, and they remembered well the ways of their brothers. They fought gorilla tactics, hiding during the day and taking out scores of Cherubim and Avengers in the night. There were also the newly Fallen to consider. Some of them disapproved in what their brothers were doing, and argued against the righteousness of taking a physical hand in the humans destiny. The new Council of Angels in Heaven, led by the almighty Archangels, deemed these protesters as Rebels, cursing them with black wings and exiling them to Hell and Earth. These new Fallen were different from their ancient brothers who followed Lucifer in his war against the servitude of humans. These Fallen obeyed their Holy Father, and aided the humans however they could in their time, and felt wronged by Heaven’s new Council. The new Fallens embraced humanity, continuing to aid them in their time of need, shielding them however they could from their holy brothers, even working with Demons, and their ancient brothers to do so.

A score of years later, a weak stability has been reached. . .

In the city of San Francisco, the Seraphim Ramiel had certified the city as being another Gomorrah, full of crime and unholy practices, such as homosexual relationships, rape, gangs, unwed sex, gambling, and stealing. To stifle these practices, he did a number of things. First, his legion of Avengers scoured the city, killing the sick and the homeless, along with the druggies and the gangs, the openly gay and the gothic sinners. When all was settled, he set a curfew, following the suit of the Seraphim in other cities. People were to be off the streets by 9pm sharp, anyone caught outside after curfew was questioned, and punished severely however the City Peacekeepers, usually small units consisting of Cherubim, led by one Avenger, saw fit. Huge chapels were built to hold Mass, three times a week, and attendance was mandatory. Weddings were applied for and approved by the ruling Seraphim, divorce was not an option unless your spouse died. Sinners’ families were punished as well as them, as was written in the Bible to be done. Aside from all of the new rules, life went on as “normally” as possible, with the exception of a few things. Cell phones ceased to work because of the interference of the atmosphere, airplanes refused to fly, and above all, missiles from bombs to nukes, simply ceased to function. They couldn’t be aimed, and even if they could be fired, they were harmless as they refused to detonate.

Latrickriel was a new Fallen, who had been accused of cavorting with his dark brethren, and cast down from Heaven. The Fallen ran his fingers through his black hair, long on the right side, and cut unevenly short on the left, not reaching his shoulders, a smile on his blood red lips. His black wings shimmered with a red highlight as the wind blew them softly. It was almost nine o’ clock, and the Peacekeepers would be coming soon. He knew he should go home to his sections hideout, but he really did want to do something fun tonight. He sat atop an old church, watching the mortals below him scramble for cover, some of them settling to sleep in abandoned buildings rather than risk getting home on time. Poor insignificant little rats. He didn’t see what all the fuss was about, why his brothers had felt this was the cause of their Father’s silence. After all, what damage could the humans make on the Almighty One? For him it didn’t matter, he only wanted more than Heaven could offer the restless once Avenger.

His black bladed sword throbbed with unholy power as he felt the appearance of light approaching. It stung, and it was sweet, and it made his eyes water. It was a ghost of the Presence that had been absent or far too long in Heaven. What was an Angel without the Presence? A shell, he answered himself. But now he had another feeling to fill him, and something to do with his dormant sword and unsettled power. He stood in the moonlight, waiting for that dash of white in the distance before he spread his magnificent twenty-four foot wingspan and took to the chill night air. Tight black clothing hugged his slender frame, whoever heard of a bulky muscled Angel?, their power came from within their frail appearance. Emerald eyes narrowed as his smile widened, drawing his sword as the Cherub sensed him too late.

Blood sprayed his pale face, and he laughed, licking his lips, as he watched the sliced Cherub fall to the ground, his while wings uselessly limp and waving. Another spark in his senses, and he turned to meet the charge of the Avenger that led the Peacekeepers for this sector. Metal clanged loudly, sparks flying, and the wind picked up as both Angels beat their wings fiercely to keep the air as they shoved against one another. Latrickriel’s expression was one of ecstasy as he panted to keep the pressure. His brother may have shouted at him, but he didn’t hear it over the blood pounding in his ears. A funny thing, that blood. It was a collection of atoms gathered together, nothing like human blood that stayed on your skin until you washed it. Angel’s blood was sweet and hot, and it faded into the air unless its owner was dead. The blood on his face was drying, not fading, and it itched nicely.

With a feral scream he shoved hard, pulling back his sword to meet with the white winged Avenger’s several more times, drawing the horrified stares of the people inside their homes, watching the fight from their many windows. Some of them prayed to their dormant God, while some of them, he heard, urged him on. His brother heard it too, the sinners that wished him dead, and his beautiful face held rage as he fought against the too happy Fallen. With a twist of his black sword, his brother’s white bladed sword was wretched from his hand, falling to the streets below with a deafening clang, dissipating as it touched the Earth. Latrickriel dove forward, impaling his brother through the stomach with his long sword with a sickening squish and a splash of blood. He followed the move by wrapping his free arm around his brother’s chest, holding him tight as he beat his wings for both of them. Blood trickled from his brother’s mouth as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come, his blue eyes becoming dull.

“May you reach ascendance, my vayvord brother.” He whispered sweetly, pressing his lips to his brother’s now pale pink ones, tasting the blood that was staying. It was what they all wished for, because not even the Heaven’s New Council knew if their souls were being reunited with their Father at this point. Still, his brother smiled faintly, and his watering blue eyes held love as his life left him. When it was gone, he retracted the sword, letting the body fall the hundred feet to the ground. He licked his blade, feeling the six small lights coming closer. He would fight them all, and he would win. They were only Cherubim. For the next hour he hunted them, slicing their pale flesh and spilling their hot blood, ripping out their feathers and hearing them scream before he killed them. He was holding many of their feathers as he tracked down the last of them, busy checking out a suspicious building on the edge of the city. It had been an old apartment building, and it was rumored to have been a hideout for Satanic worshippers, lowly human ones at that. A Cherub was more than a match for a score of humans, but a score of Cherubim were nothing to a Fallen Avenger like Latrickriel. He licked the blood from one long feather as he stepped into the doorway of the large empty room at the top of the building that the last Cherub waited in. “Hello, brother. Vhat brings you here, might I ask?” He purred in his heavy accent of Latin/German, his other hand holding the black-bladed and blood dripping sword.

The angel that Latrickriel was speaking to stood by the only window at the far end of the room, his wings behind him with the sides just brushing against his bare shoulders. He had short wavy honey blond hair that seemed to sparkle in the dimly lit room and was dressed in a white tunic that went over his left shoulder and then around his hips, the ends just touching the tops of his thighs and from his knees down were a pair of lightly tanned leather laced sandals. He truly was the embodiment of a compassionate and caring angel.

The angel, Aerlis, had heard the screams, but he assumed them to be the screams of the humans that had been found by his companions and not his companions themselves. He had only hoped they had found the sinners instead of himself. This Cherub was not one for seeing blood, much less spilling it that was the reason he had walked to the top of the building where there would be hardly any chance of him finding any humans up there. Yet that voice shocked him. He turned around, honey blond hair sweeping over his golden eyes for a moment as he spoke cheerfully. “I was just looking for the. . ..” Aerlis’ voice dropped to nothing as his face turned from one of happy surprise to a look of abject terror. Before him stood a beautiful being, a beautiful yet nightmarish being with black wings and hair. A Fallen. What was more frightening was the blood he was licking off one snowy white feather, one like Aerlis’ feathers, one of an angel. His fair skin seemed to go a shade paler from disgust and fear as his wings closed around him, trying to shield the rest of his body.

“Oh. . ..oh God. . .wh..what have you done!?” Aerlis yelled and brought his hands to his face, falling to his knees. Were they all dead? What of their Avenger? No. . .if this Fallen had found him. . .did that mean Yalweh was truly gone?

“Y-Yalweh!? Yalweh! Help!” Aerlis cried out and looked around, his eyes desperately searching for a sign of his leader. He waited and waited. . .then looked to the fallen once again. He heard nothing else, no flaps of wings coming to find him, nothing but silence, except for the drops of blood from Latrickriel’s sword that hit the floor now and then. “Urial!? Rezonel!? Someone! H-help. . .me. . .” He cried, realizing it was all in vain as the tears began to fall from his eyes. Those screams. They were from the other Cherubs, not from the humans they had found and he was too stupid to recognize it. Aerlis hunched over and set his arms to the floor, his head resting on the top of them as he cried softly. He was dead now. . .he knew it. This fallen had killed all of his squadron. . .and he was the last to go.

Latrickriel chuckled, holding out his hand at arms length and opening it slowly, some of the feathers floating gracefully to the ground, while the smaller ones stuck to his hands from the blood. “All zat is left of your squadron, little Cherub.” He purred, blowing one small feather from the corner of his lips. “Your Avenger, he vas good, but not good enuff.” He drawled as he took a few steps into the room, towards the angel that was trying to shield himself with his wings. His blood red lips were twisted into a wicked smile as his the tip of his pink tongue ran over them, the tip of his black sword dragging on the ground behind him. “You are all zat is left. Little, precious Cherub.” He said the title with a certain degradation, giving the angel an idea of how he saw him. “Second to ze last on ze rung of Angels,” The word rolled off his tongue this time, as if he truly loved the word, “So sorry zat you follow idiots. But oh, don’t cower, mien leibe, I shall cleanse you.” He said, lunging for the blond angel then, tackling him to the ground in one swift move and seizing one wrist, pinning it to the ground by his head. He lifted the great sword in one hand then, bringing it down to stab through the thick part of Aerlis’s wing and keeping it in place with a dull shuk sound.

Aerlis shrieked inhumanly as the sword plunged through his wing, straight through to the ground below. His body thrashed, though restrained by the fallen angel as his free wing flapped in an effort to get away. The pain was too much to bear, his wings, the most sensitive part of his body was being impaled by the black bladed sword Latrickriel possessed. Aerlis’ free hand pounded at Latrickriel’s chest, then brought it to his shoulder, trying to shove the other off his body. “Stop! AH!! God. . .No!” The Cherub cried coherently as wet, hot tears streamed down his face, his head trashing side to side in his pain. He felt like he was going to die. He felt his blood that was flowing onto the floor, on his shoulders, his back and down to his waist. Minutes later Aerlis was laying still on the ground, sobbing hard as his body shook from fear and shock. This was hell, he decided. Whatever nerves that were left in his wing were throbbing in so much pain Aerlis swore he was going to pass out.

The Fallen purred his comfort even as the angel below him pounded his chest, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he held him as still as he could. “Ohh, sveet one, hush. . .” He cooed, kissing his tear-streaked cheek, then licking the trail to his golden eye. He sat back, sensing that the Cherub’s strength was already spent with pain, straddling the blonde’s waist. Smiling softly down to the angel now, he brushed his bangs away from his face, the tips of his own black hair tickling the other’s chest as he did. “You won’t need these now, vill you?” He asked sweetly, his hand jerking the sword’s handle downwards and piercing through flesh and bone, cutting the feathers that the sword sliced clean in half, so sharp was the blade. “Off, off, off it goes.” He chanted cheerily, grabbing a hold of the top of the wound and ripping downwards to tear the remnant of the wing off.

The Cherub gave another painful scream as his wing was ripped off. He panted softly, choking on his tears now and then before his head started to feel light and everything started to fade in front of his eyes. He felt more warm blood flow from the stub where his wing once was and the last thing he remembered seeing was Latrickriel’s smiling face as he shut his eyes and fell into the darkness around him. There was no pain here. Aerlis was sure he was dead, after loosing that much blood, he knew he had to have passed on, he would have gone back to heaven, found peace there.

He slept for a long time it felt. But once his eyes opened, he was not in heaven. No. . .he was still on Earth, but where on earth he was unsure. Slowly, cautiously Aerlis sat up and let his eyes open slowly. The pain in his right shoulder blade was back, throbbing, aching, stinging. It was no dream, and he was not dead. Once his vision cleared, Aerlis found himself on a bed with tattered and torn sheets and in a dimly, candle lit room. Above him there were lights, but they were either not working or not turned on. He felt lop sided. His left wing was out, covering him like a blanket as he slept and his right wing. . .well, it was gone. Aerlis nearly fell onto his back, but caught himself and instead landed face forward onto the bed. He knew this would hurt, but it had to be done. Aerlis gripped the sheets below him and slowly began to draw his wings back into his body, shrieking loudly as he pulled the stub of his right wing into his skin once again. It took a few minutes, but when it was over, the Cherub was laying face down on the bed, panting softly as he tried to regain his strength and gather his whereabouts

There was a stirring outside of the room, a murmur of voices and the shifting of pairs of feet. After a brief moment of silence the door opened, and a Demon leaned in. “You’re awake.” He said, a statement. He leaned on the doorframe, his lean body dressed in tattered jeans and a large stained gray T-shirt, arms crossed over his chest. Green uneven hair hung partway in his face, his leather wings resting behind him, blue eyes almost kind. “Poor thing, having LTK find you and all. . . Man, if it had been one of us, at least we would have just killed ya outright, not ripped off your wing. . . I know those are sensitive. Not my thing, ya know? The torture and stuff.” The red wavy lines on his cheek tilted up as he smiled a little, a humorless smile. “That Fallen, he’s crazy. He keeps the Cherubim from findin’ us though, and we’re thankful for that. Kills’em one after another, man, you should see him work!” He said with wide eyes. “Enough to scare the. . . well, the Hell outta me I guess, like humans say.”

“I. . .I have seen him work. . .” Aerlis said softly as he slowly sat up to sit on the bed and moved a hand through his bangs. His frame shook softly as he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped both arms around his legs. “W-why am I here? What does he want from me?” The Cherub said in almost a whisper, too scared to even speak up now. His body was hurting, but only on his back. He needed to sit up in order to get himself in a position that if he felt threatened he could do something about it. Aerlis didn’t look it, but he was shaken up badly. His squadron was killed, everyone but him and now, he had no other choice but to stay here. His wing was gone, there was no use and no way of getting back home. “Speaking of which. . .” He paused and looked to the demon in the doorway, “Who are you and where exactly am I?”

“Like I’d tell you where we are! Ha, they’d have my ass if you got out and brought your Seraphim’s ‘heavenly Retribution’ on us! As for me, I’m Liri. As for you. . . I think you’re kinda LTK’s “pet”, at least until he gets tired of you. Maybe he’ll make ya fall, do ya think?” He wondered, stepping farther into the room. “I dunno,” He admitted as he reached the foot of the bed, “What he does is really his business for the most part, we don’t really bug him unless it affects us, know what I mean? He helps and we didn’t ask him to, so he stays. He’ll be back pretty soon. . . you poor bastard. Aren’t you Cherubim supposed to be a little strong? How come you didn’t fight him back, or are you only good for killing useless mortals?” He asked, raising one green eyebrow as he looked doubtfully over the blonde’s slender form.

Aerlis lowered his eyes back to the bed and shook his head. “N-no. . .I mean. . .we are just supposed to. . .to pass judgement on them. I. . .I was never too fond of killing and I did fight back. . .” He said softly and shut his eyes for a moment. “But only when he was working on tearing my wing off. . .before that I could not and would not lift a finger against him. He. . .he was just too strong. . .I could feel it.” Aerlis said softly and gave a small shudder, his eyes shutting tighter as he recalled the memory of when he first saw Latrickriel in the door way of the room. He didn’t know if he had been paralyzed with fear or perhaps something more? No. . .it was a sense of fear and awe from how deadly beautiful the Fallen was. But still. . .Aerlis’ ears caught one part of Liri’s words. ‘Pet’. “W-what do you mean his pet!?” The Cherub asked in a very startled and dismayed voice. “What. . .what do you mean pet?”

Liri laughed, the humorless tone almost haunting, leaving one to wonder if the teenaged Demon could laugh from honest amusement. “I mean it like ‘Prisoner’ only just maybe you’ll be treated better. I don’t know, he’s never brought anyone back here before. . . He won’t talk to us anymore, except to babble on about things we can’t quite catch. Besides, ‘Pet’ is a term for someone kept by a stronger person here, be it a Demon or a Fallen protecting a human or another Demon, etc. There’s things they’ll ask of you, of course. Do you mean to say that all Angels are like that? That if they feel someone stronger that they just submit? Or are Cherubim as low on the rank as they say? I’ve seen even a Cherub take out a few of my friends, but then I can’t feel their dark aura as well as you can. I can feel an Avenger, though, and I guess I wouldn’t even try much to fight one. So we’re not so different, eh?” He said, almost to himself. “What about me, do you think you could take me?” He asked curiously.

The Cherub looked surprised at the question and thought it over. Judging from the boy’s strength, he could take him, he could beat him, but he just didn’t want to. Aerlis believed in the ways Cherubs were supposed to act before all this started. They were meant to be glorifiers of God’s work and nothing more then that. They were not warriors, they were messengers and confidants. “In truth, I don’t think I could take you on Liri.” Aerlis said softly and looked back down to the bed he was sitting on. “I am not one for violence so I really don’t think I would want to try and take you on, even if I knew I could do it. I can sense energies very well, in fact, that is what I was used for in my squadron. I detected power of different life forms, weather they be human, Angels or Demons.” Aerlis explained the best he could before looking back to Liri to see his response.

Liri smiled at that. “I don’t hate you all, like you all hate my kind.” He told him, shrugging as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I mean, the Angels never bothered us until God went missing. I don’t think you should hate something unless it does something to you. What’s your name, Cherub?” He asked, then looked over his shoulder at the shadow darkening it. A tall man stood there, dressed in black jeans and wearing no shirt, a red circle and a few red lines on the right side of his chest. Long red hair was tied back, crimson eyes narrowed. Liri gulped and took his hands out of his jeans, hanging his head a bit as he walked towards the door.

“It doesn’t matter what his name is, he’ll be dead soon, one way or another.” The demon spoke. “You’re his caretaker, for the time being, because we know Latrickriel won’t remember to feed him. He’s sleeping now, on the floor upstairs. . . He was tired after killing so many Cherubim, and an Avenger, that he just had to get some rest.” He shot the blonde angel on the bed a murderous grin, showing sharp fangs. He placed his hand on Liri’s shoulder, gripping slightly. “Don’t go filing his head with any ideas, Cherub filth. I’ve heard that the Angels are using Fallen and Demons with stupid ideals to do their dirty work now.”

“But I wouldn’t. . .” Liri began, then quieted as the redhead squeezed his shoulder a little.

Aerlis glared to the man that just showed up and gave a small smirk. “Yes yes, it’s ALL so true. . .I mean. . .you seem to know everything dear master. . .whatever and whoever you are. For you information, I do have a name and it’s not Cherub, it’s Aerlis.” He said to the taller red haired man, his voice holding a tone of sarcasm and definitely a sense of annoyance. With a smile he then looked to Liri. “And it’s not that I hate you, I am just following orders given to me by my higher commanders. I honestly don’t see why we are doing all of this, but. . .I will do what I am ordered to do by the Angels who are in control during God’s disappearance.” He explained to the demon in a tone he would more so use in casual conversation, very unlike his tone with the man in the coat. So Latrickriel was sleeping? That was a good as far as Aerlis was concerned. It meant that he would not have to worry about seeing him for some time if he was lucky. Honestly Aerlis was scared stiff of that Fallen. It was like his body would freeze and not respond when he was in the room, perhaps it was because of the presence that Aerlis felt about him.

“See Devi-sama, he’s a good Angel.” Liri said with a smile. His redheaded keeper frowned, looking down at him.

“There’s no such thing as a good Angel, Liri.”

“Well, technically they’re all good, aren’t they?” The green haired demon quipped. He was swatted in the back of the head, and he rubbed it, though he was smiling a little.

“Don’t get smart with me, or else I’ll have to discipline you again, brat.” Devi smirked, his tone chiding yet fondly gentle. He mussed his companion’s green hair and sighed. “I don’t like it, but Latrickriel requested you be the one to guard him, and I don’t really want to piss him off, so just stop listening to this Cherub’s rabble about blindly following orders. What’d they get their free will back if they’re just gonna not use it, you got me?” He said seriously, shooting Aerlis a glare, then turning and leaving. Liri sighed, looking back to the blond Angel on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Devione’s just kind of protective of me. . . You could say I’m his ‘Pet’. He protects me from the other more powerful and more violent Demons and Fallens,” He said, rubbing one arm as if he was cold. “And he’s my last relative. Our family was wiped out by the Angels in one of the first attacks that you guys made on Hell. We were targeted for our powers to shift and bend things, molding them how we see fit. Kind of like alchemy, only I’m pretty weak. I can only bend rock, and some gems, but Devi-sama can use metal and pull ore from my rocks to make metal.” He looked up, his blue eyes searching over Aerlis’s scarcely clad body for a moment. “I hope he keeps you. . . I like you, and I’d hate to see you go. Um. . .” He blushed, “I’m going to go and stand outside the door now before Devione comes back, ‘kay? See you later!” He said, waving as he left.

The Cherub waved and smiled cheerfully enough considering his current position. He could not help but feel bad for Liri, whose family had been killed off by other angels like himself. It was just something in the boy’s tone and the way the words rolled so effortlessly off his tongue. He had thought it might be that he had told his story other times or was just used to it by now, but then that also explained how Devione was treating him. He truly did care for Liri, enough to make sure that no one, not angel, not demon, not God himself would hurt that boy. Aerlis could not help but give a small smile before letting his face slip back into his normal passive look. He didn’t really want Liri to go, he needed someone to talk to, if anything to calm himself down even more. He was scared of being alone with Latrickriel, you know, out of shouting distance, or better yet, in range to where if you did scream, no one here would most likely care if it was an angel being killed or hurt.

Aerlis gulped softly and slowly got up from the bed and approached a full body mirror in the corner of the room, though it was busted and broken on the corners and split in half, tough still held together. He slipped off the top half of his tunic and turned his back to the mirror, trying to see if besides loosing his wing, if any other marks were left on his back. Aerlis turned his head over his right shoulder, straining his eyes to try and get a better view of his back, finding nothing but the same flawless skin that had been there before. With a sigh of relief he began to wander around the room, looking at various clothes on the floor and instead began to pick them up and fold them. It was in his nature to be tidy and neat, so this was normal for him. He heard the door handle twist and then the door begin to creek open. Aerlis paused in the middle of folding an old worn out black vest when he looked to the door, expecting it to be Liri. “I thought you said you were going to stand guard Liri. . .”

“Cherub, you vaited for me. How sveet.” The Fallen in the doorway purred, pushing the door open farther to step inside, his smile was small and thin. He wore only his black pants now, he seemed to have lost his shirt somewhere between ripping/cutting off the Angel’s wing and sleeping on the floor, but his face and hands were clean of blood. “Do you know vhat? One of zem lived, one of ze Cherubim in your Patrol.” He said, his smile widening a little more, twisting to become humorous. Liri gave Aerlis a helpless look from behind the for now wingless Fallen, mouthing ‘Sorry’ and running off. “Zay haf reported you missing. Zay think you are dead, or possibly. . . Turned colors?” He quipped as he closed the door behind him, using the term that the Angles used for Falling, or becoming a traitor. He laughed, without humor as he approached the frightened Cherub. “Mien leibe, little one, let me show you ze vay. I shall teach you vhat I know, and show you vhat I am, and zen you vill decide. Vhat do you vant: Zem. . . or me.” He proclaimed, seizing the blonde’s wrist and pulling him towards the bed, throwing the slender Angel onto the stained and creaky mattress.

Aerlis fell onto the bed but was instantly up on his elbows, looking down the length of his body to the Fallen at the end of the bed. “D-Dead!? I. . .I am not. . .How could they think. . .no. . .and I have not fallen!” He exclaimed and glared to Latrickriel as he watched the Fallen get onto the bed and start to crawl to him. He was watching once again, just sitting there, waiting. He swallowed once, his face bright red as the other pushed him back into the bed, straddling him at his waist as he did before when he cut off his wing. The Cherub turned his head to the side and shut his eyes. “I. . .I won’t turn. . .I won’t become a traitor. . ..” He said as though it were his mantra.

“Zat’s vhat I said, and zay didn’t believe me. I talked vith my dark brothers vhen our Father fell silent, and zay told me I vas bad for zat. Vhat vas bad about zat? I vanted to know, and zat vas my crime! I vanted to know if zay knew vhy He abandoned us, His Sons!” He shouted, his face becoming angry as he grabbed the waistline of the blonde’s tunic, ripping it off of him and exposing his pale flesh. He laughed at the Cherub’s frightened/embarrassed shout of protest, moving so that he could spread his holy brother’s pale thighs apart to settle down between them. The materiel of his tight black pants was thin, and his flesh was alive and warm beneath it. “I dreamt about you, Cherub, vhile I slept. Don’t cry, mien leibe, I vill not forsake you. I vill never forsake you, ever, not like He has. . .” He said softly then, his red lips brushing the Angel’s softly.

He gave a small yelp as his tunic was ripped from his body and tossed idly aside and then as Latrickriel moved his legs apart so easily and slipped in between them. Aerlis’ face turned bright red and he gave a soft gasp to the feeling of the warmth from the Fallen’s body next to his own exposed skin. He opened his mouth to speak, ignoring a tear that slipped past his left eye and then finally spoke. “I. . .I can’t . . . this . . . This is a sin. . .you know that.” He said softly, trying so hard not to make any other sound that would betray what he was trying to say. “I can’t. . ..we can’t. . .”

Latrickriel laughed quietly, quoting, “Zall shall not lay vith a man as he doth a voman.”He said, purring as he kissed the blonde, “But zat’s for humans. . . anyvay, ve can’t get married, so vhy vait? Your vings von’t turn black just from zis, trust me. . . I know.” He said, smirking. “No one vill know, no one but you and me, so be quiet, little Cherub, and be a good little brother.” He purred, kissing him hard as he maneuvered out of his own pants. He pressed their bare flesh together, moaning into the kiss at the amazing amount of warmth he felt from the blonde’s skin. That feeling of light and warmth, it was much like the feeling that he remembered as the Presence, something so warm and fulfilling that his heart raced in anticipation. What would it feel like, to be inside of that oh so wonderful light and warmth? He laughed as he broke the kiss, his smile twisting into something not sane as he seized both of the angel’s wrists, moving them above his head and then holding them with one iron hand as his other went to grip the Cherub’s hip, his long nails digging in.

Aerlis gave a short cry as the nails sank into his skin, threatening to break skin from the grip the other had on his hip. His eyes shut tight on instinct as he felt an internal battle inside him begin. There was that ever conscious part of him telling him to do anything he could to fight back, to do something to show that this was not what he wanted to do, that this was wrong in God’s sight, he knew it. But there was another voice saying to him not to do anything, just to lay there and take whatever was coming. It was almost as if his consciousness was telling him that he deserved this ‘punishment’ for the deaths the angels had caused in the name of righteousness, for the deaths of innocents who were just trying to live, like Liri’s family. The nails dug deeper into his skin, causing him to cry out in pain and arch his head back into the bed behind him. “Ah! T-that hurts. . .f-fallen. . ..” He said softly, not knowing the fallen angel’s name, save for what Liri called him, LTK.

The Fallen wasn’t listening, he didn’t even seem to hear him, and if he did he didn’t show it. He kissed the Angel’s neck, then bit into the soft skin with his sharp teeth, making marks with his teeth, though they didn’t bleed. He moved up, spreading Aerlis’s legs farther apart to accommodate his own hips. Crimson lips covered the pale pink ones on the body below him, as he thrust his tongue into the warm mouth, pillaging it. Without farther warning, he sank the full length of his member into the Cherub’s tense and frightened body, giving forth a feral shout, almost a growl, as he did so. The hand on the blonde’s wrists above his head tightened, and the one holding his hips held it down with his weight.

Panic and pain swarmed Aerlis’ mind and senses as the Fallen above him pushed inside of him with no caution or preparation. His eyes went wide as his mouth fell open to give a loud cry. It hurt, not as much as when his wing was ripped off, but God, it did hurt. He was not ready for that, his body was still so afraid of what was going on in the first place. Aerlis groaned and shifted under Latrickriel, doing his best to lessen the pain, seeing how he could not move much more with his arms and body pinned to the bed. He shut his eyes, tears falling from the corners of them as he yelled, his frame shaking nervously as he spoke. “G-Get out! Ahhh. . .no. . ..stop!! I . . .Get out of me!” He demanded and then lowered his voice, whimpering softly. “P-please. . .it. . .hurts. . .” He begged softly as he turned his head to the other side, his arms pulling once more to see if he could break Latrickriel’s grip, to no avail.

The Fallen came around slightly then, his green eyes seeming to become less dull. He didn’t move, but he removed his hand from Aerlis’s hip, and kissed his lips gently. “Forgive me brother, I vasn’t thinking. . .” He purred, though he made no move to pull back. Instead, he shifted his hips to a more comfortable position, lifting the Cherub’s hips so that they fit together a little better. “Mm, zat is better, nein, mien leibe?” His soft voice continued, as he petted the blonde’s side slowly, as if comforting a frightened animal. “Hush, you’re doing vell. . .” It was more than a little odd to him, and honestly the first time that Latrickriel had taken the time to think of anyone other than himself since the Fall, to be even considerate to the weeping Cherub below him. He had no intention of stopping what he was doing, no more than he did of letting the Cherub go free when he was through. As long as the Council thought that Aerlis was dead, or captured, his wings would remain snowy white, and Latrickriel could maintain that piece of Heaven that he found his heart aching for. If being a Fallen was like this, he wondered how the ancient Fallens managed to live. This short time had already driven him insane.

Aerlis made a small sound as Latrickriel pulled his hips closer, oddly enough it did feel a bit better, almost nice. His face flushed slightly when the other began to try and comfort him, was he mocking him or was he sincere? Aerlis could not tell at this point. He knew that this fallen, like many, had lost himself a long time ago and were now, if anything, close to insanity, if not already there. Still, during the time that Latrickriel was taking to make sure he was fine, he could not help but wonder. It was the same question he had asked to Liri when he first woke up, but got no answer. ”W-why are. . .are you doing this? What do you want from me?” The Cherub asked between small moans and every now and then a whimper or two from the pain as he laid completely still under the other.

“Not ze time. . . for talking,” Latrickriel chided him, smiling again as he moved his hips back at last, only to thrust forward again. Despite his companion’s cry of pain, the Fallen repeated the process, closing his eyes and falling into a rythem of powerful thrusts. His hand remained on the Cherub’s hip, though, holding them up for an easier access, as well as what comfort his muddled mind could offer his blonde brother.

Aerlis’ hands gripped above his head trying to grab hold of anything he could as Latrickriel began to move, despite the noises the Cherub was making. He was crying, begging, pleading for the other to stop and release him, to stop hurting him, but it seemed that the black winged angel was too far lost in his own pleasure to acknowledge anything Aerlis was saying at the moment. He could feel something inside his body began to tear and bleed, at least he thought it was blood. It didn’t help that he couldn’t move his hips now that Latrickriel was holding them up in order to drive deeper inside his body. “P-please. . .ah. . .stop!” Aerlis begged as more tears began to fall from his eyes once again but those words were soon accompanied by a soft cry of pleasure. Aerlis’ golden eyes fell wide open as his head inclined back just a bit more. Latrickriel hit something that sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through his body for a split second and then just like that, it was gone, back to the hurtful thrusts into his bleeding passage. Though now, Aerlis had stopped crying, he was still in pain, but he had grown used to what was being done to him, he knew what to expect.

Somewhere in the Fallen’s mind he had heard the cries of pain change for just an instant into one of pleasure. He smiled, knowing that he liked this sound much better, and he aimed to repeat what he had done before. Before his Fall, Latrickriel had always envied his Fallen brothers, who could sleep with the beautiful sons and daughters of men, and even the Demons and each other if they so desired. It was a sin even to feel this envy, he knew, but it never stopped his visits to his darker kin. They were all related, the Angels, the Fallen, and the Demons who had come of the Fallen’s first children with the men and Lucifer’s own attempts of children. The Original Fallen, now the Devils, were rare and powerful, and they could do as they pleased more than any other.

He envied, and he lusted, and now he stole. Oh how his Angel heart must be crying now, as he took the only innocence that this lowly Cherub still possessed, but the dark blood in his veins cried out for more. The light that he felt was so pure that it stung his soul, but his body heeded not the pain that wasn’t physical. With a groan, he felt his body tense, and he knew he was at his limit. The tight and warm body of the blonde beneath him was nothing like the demons, and even the choice Fallen that Latrickriel had had before, and he could feel his physical and spiritual release coming stronger than he would have thought possible. He threw his head back, his uneven black hair flying as he gave a long, loud cry, reaching his zenith with a powerful shudder and spilling his tainted seed deep into the blonde Cherub’s abused body.

The Angel gave a loud cry as well, but this was more from pain then anything as Latrickriel came inside of him, causing his body to tense and release himself, spilling his own release against the Fallen’s stomach as well as his own. The pain was replaced for a few precious moments by a pleasure he had never felt in Heaven, something more physical then the mental pleasure of being around other Angels in Heaven. But that feeling only lasted for a few fleeting moments before reality hit him again. His body was in pain. He was bleeding from the inside and the pain in his back from having his wing ripped out still had not subsided. Aerlis gave a yelp when Latrickriel pulled out of him and released his arms. Instantly Aerlis wrapped his arms around his body and brought his knees to his chest, panting hard as he tried to fight off the pain that was overcoming him.

The Fallen sat back, letting his black wings show themselves, all twenty-four foot wing span, full grown, stretched out brilliantly, the tips of his feathers touching the celing and the walls of the small room. He tilted his head, letting his hair fall into his face as he gazed down at the shuddering Angel. Smiling a little, he petted his hair, leaning down over him to whisper in his ear. “Shhh, little one, big brother is here. . .” His deep voice purred, slender fingers moving through the honey blond hair, “My sveet one, don’t cry. . . It hurts, I know. I may haf tainted zis body, but your soul is still pure. So pure. . . it stings, and it burns my heart. . . Us, beings of pure spirit, cursed vith flesh and because of it, ruled by it. Ve thought humans to be veak because of it, and here, look vhat I haf done!” He whispered passionately, forcefully turning Aerlis’s face so that he could kiss his lips. Black power, like lightning, covered the Angels body. It wracked his soul with agony, but his flesh began to tingle delightfully, healing slowly. Latrickriel used his weight and his power to keep the Cherub from fighting him off, only releasing the kiss and the spell when the blonde’s body was healed. It was sore, and would be for a while, but he was not bleeding any longer. “Zhere, zat vasn’t so bad, vas it?” He asked, chuckling.

Aerlis shook his head back and forth once to answer the question asked and then slowly, answered by voice. “N-no. . .it. . .it wasn’t. I. . .Urm. . .thank you. . .LTK? Is. . .is that your name?” He asked slowly as he laid on his back watching the fallen angel above him, his eyes never leaving Latrickriel’s for a moment. He swallowed hard and slowly went to a relaxed position on the bed. “I..I think that. . .that is your name. . .it is what Liri was calling you. H-he is nice. . .Liri I mean. . .he was very nice to me.” Aerlis said in almost a whisper, his voice noticeably nervous and afraid. His eyes left Latrickriel’s and traveled up to his wings, letting his golden eyes take in the pure black feathers as they glistened in the dimly lit room.

“My name?” The Fallen asked, blinking as he settled his wings to a more comfortable position behind him. He seemed surprised by the question, but he was also pleased somehow by it. “I vas called Latrickriel by my Father, and by my brothers in Heaven. Zay call me zat, LTK, here.” He said, laughing a little. “It seems zat Latrickriel is longer zan zheir names. Like Liri, and Devione. Zay are my good allies here.” He brushed Aerlis’s hair out of his face, letting his nails lightly scrape his scalp as he moved them through his hair. “Do not fear, mien leibe, I von’t let anyone hurt you. Not vhile you are here vith me.” The Fallen said softly, his face serene for the moment. Sunlight was beginning to light the dim room, coming through the window, and he winced. Standing, he walked over to the cracked said window and pulled a raggy curtain over it, cutting off most of the light. He shrugged his wings with a rustle of feathers, and let them pull back into his lean body. He turned towards the bed again, tilting his head. “I’m going now. Vould you like something to drink, or anything? I von’t be here until tonight, but Liri vill take care of you.” He spoke casually, as if the Cherub was a guest. Angels, unlike Demons, did not find it necessary to partake of food and drink, though the ones on Earth simply liked to for the taste. Specially wine.

“J-Just water. . .that’s it. . .but n-not now. . .I think I am going to sleep. . .” He muttered softly and curled up onto the bed, grabbing one of the old, worn looking pillows from the top and pulled it down to rest his head on. He then reached over, grabbing a sheet that had been set over there and pulled it over his naked frame. He was exhausted. From the amount of blood he lost and his most recent ‘activity’ with Latrickriel his body was about to it’s limit. While, just like any angel under heaven, Aerlis had a strong power, but, unlike most of his brethren, his earthly body had been a bit weaker then most of them. He got tired easier, got bruised easier, so he was normally cautious about what he did from day to day. One thing was for certain, nothing, until now, had gotten him this exhausted. He looked over to Latrickriel as the fallen approached the door and pulled the sheet closer to his shoulder, waiting for the other to leave before he would dare to shut his eyes and fall into blissful sleep.