I stared down at her when He was interrogating her, wishing it would be over so I could once again hold her. I was given that chance finally, but under the worst conditions.
When I was finally allowed in, I rushed, not thinking, but the stench of blood hit me like a brick wall, stopping me in my tracks. That, however, was not enough when I saw her laying there in her own gore, on the ground. "Eng." I knew she didn't hear me, and I rushed over to her, kneeling and pulling her carefully into my lap, avoiding the gaping holes in her back, where there had once been majestic wings.
She whispered her dying words to me in a voice that made me weep. When her body was finally taken by Hell's cherub-like minions, I wept then, the tears rushing over every line of my defense like a flood, leaving me weak, sitting in a pool of my love's sacred blood.
After the tears dried from my eyes, I stood and found her necklace thrown in a corner, no doubt by the Damned 'cherubs'. Clutching it in my hand, I walked out of the Domain, ignoring the staring Grigore and Angels.
How to find her? I paced in her... no, our... room, angrily kicking whatever crossed my path. That included a dress, vanity seat, bedpost, bookcase, and walls. Alot of walls. I finally sat on the edge of the bed, tracing the features of the necklace. A heart, engraved with mortal old english. "Ealne Weg,' in scrawling script. Two wings decorated the halves of the heart, one, the left, outstretched, the right floded in half.
She had always worn it and had told me the night before, in our revelry, that Kaine... I mean I, had given it to her. She hadn't put any pictures in it. Though I had photocopied our pictures from the reports. I cut them out, placing them in the locket. And I closed it again, rubbing my finger over the engraving before pocketing it.
...Wait. The Archives! The keeper had been so sure that the files were updated instantly... it said I was Kaine... maybe it would also say who she had become.
If only it were really that easy.
"I'm sorry, Representative Deamin. The Lord has ordered that the files of Fallens be kept under lock. Access will only be given through the Lord Himself." The puppet bowed, and for one fleeting moment, I felt pity.
That angel had no personal thoughts, no real feelings. He had no hand in his own fate, no control in what he could even think, lest it be a treasonous thought. Recite the lines by rote, and hope you won't be punished.
Closed off records, what a load of bull.
I sighed, allowing my light bangs to cover my eyes, as my head dropped, my eyes watching the counter in mock coyness. "Oh, alright. I understand. Thank you anyway." I turned swiftly, and walked out of the archives, pretending not to notice as my wing hit the angel.
So much for pity.
I reached home quickly, slamming the door to give show to the wandering eyes. I walked slowly though the building, trying to recall something about my beloved Angel at every corner, after every step.
The worst part was, almost everything was from our last day together. She had wandered the halls for the longest time, writing on a pad, while I collected my thoughts in her garden, where the snow had somehow already melted.
Finally, she had come out to join me, shockingly dry-eyed and calm, not the hysterical mess I had expected. She knelt beside me, the embodiment of calm.
We sat still for a moment, in no hurry to break the spell, to bring about anything that would destroy the walls we had set up for ourselves.
We were like that when the Grigore came to collect her, and I escorted her to her fate.
My mind dwelled on the fact that she had been writing. I doubted that she had been composing another poem, it just didn't seem like something any sane person would do while awaiting a death sentence.
Finally, I reached my office, after deciding to avoid the bedroom. I slowly circled my desk, taking in all the papers once again scattered across the oak surface.
There was a new, folded piece on top of the pile. It looked like old parchment, something that was not normally seen nowadays. It was sealed with a white wax seal, a winged heart stamped into it. I picked it up, my hands sliding over the crinkled yellow paper, a nail breaking the seal in half.
Biting my tongue, and my brows furrowed, I unfolded the letter, smoothing out the crease. My eyes quickly found the writing mirror to the script she used, fancy but hurried, a frenzied dance across the paper.
'Kaine.' It began.
'Kaine, my dearest love. We merely found each other yesterday, even though we've only been in such close quarters for nearly three months, half of which I ignored you. I apologize for being as close minded as I was. By the time you read this, I'll have already fallen.
'Th only reason I'm writing this is to keep my mind for the most part, off of the looming future. I adore you, with every part of my soul. All I ask is, don't do anything drastic. Not on my behalf. The angels around you deserve no punishment because of what happened to me. They are only pawns, as you well know.
'Just please, my dearest. The system of Heaven, while unbalanced and not fair, is working, and to tip it over would be to upset the balances of all three states. Earth and Hell will surely crumble if the scale of everything is disrupted.
'Kaine, you mean the world and more to me. Try not to be killed. If you ever come to Hell, which I'm sure you will, find me. Tell me what happened, make me understand. Please.
'And next time you meet with Him, tell Him that I said thank you. Tell Him that because I am a Fallen, and therefore, one of Hell's minions, I no longer have to serve under a false god.
'Deamin.' This was crossed out, and Kaine was written next to it. 'I love you. Be safe, my demon.'
Underneath, she had scrawled her name, True Name, and rank. Some habits never died.
Suddenly, my faint smile died on my lips as the realization dawned on me. I'd never see her again. I didn't know her real name, or occupation, or anything... not a single thing. "Dammit!" I threw the paper back down on the desk, and in a blind fit of rage and tears, I kicked the wooden furniture. I cursed again, this time in Demon Tongue, hurriedly grabbing my foot, and hopping around.
She had a point. Not to mention her just cause of berating me for planning revenge. And it wasn't right to kill a bunch of lifeless dolls just because their puppet master was a cruel, sadistic son of a -
"Representative! Representative Deamin, we've received word from Lord Lucifer! He asks that you leave as soon as possible for an audience with him." I could hear a fledgling angel calling from the entrance hall.
I sighed. "What in Hell's name does he want with me right now?" I muttered, sliding my hand back through my hair. As the angel began his speech again, my already stretched thin patience snapped completely. "I heard, dammit! What in the blue blazes of Hell are you still doing here?!" I paused and heard the scamper of small, dainty feet.
"That's better." I sighed, dropping down into my chair. I felt a migraine coming on. Massaging my temples, I contemplated about what the Devil could possibly want to see me for.
A glowing portal stood before me. I was clad in a disgusting white uniform, to signify my rank and importance as the Representative. White in the Hell world was a sign of sorts. White with black wings meant that they were honorary demons, not to be touched because of their immense power, and white wings meant they were obviously an angel, and property of God, absolutely off limits. Anyone proved of attacking an angel was immediately placed under God's jurisdiction for punishment.
No, let the Demons rip each other apart. No one except for me can harm a hair on the heads of my perfect innocent puppets.
Pft. What a sadistic pile of-
I stopped myself when I realized what I was saying, and focused on the Gateway. This side had no one near it, but the other side, I knew was a different story.
The portal was large enough to drive an Earth SUV through, and was nearly pitch black, red streams constantly being mixed into the spiral. Black fog rolled out, covering my feet in a blanket of it.
I sighed, and as I took my first step towards it, I felt myself be dragged in by the gravity it created.
The world I entered was Heaven's complete opposite. The sky was filled with dark, menacing clouds, and ash was raining down on volcanic ground, magma still burning hot and visible in countless cracks and chasms. Mountains were barely visible through the dark clouds, and were billowing blackened smoke, adding to the atmosphere. Screeches of tortured souls continuously filled the air, never allowing for a moment of peace. THe portal behind me was also the complete opposite, white, blinding light with blue swirls mixed in. As before, fog rolled out of it, but this fog resembled cumulus clouds, white and fluffy. I smirked when I saw the lone guardian for this shift.
"Hello, Mata." I said, giving a short nod of my head.
"Hello, sir." Mata saluted, her red hair falling in curls to her shoulders. Her green eyes were dulled and lifeless, caused by the pain any demon witnessed and felt, and her skin was white as a sheet, despite the arm atmosphere here. Black wings, similar except for being a bit smaller, adorned her back. Suddenly, her tone changed, lighter and haughtier now. She added, "Heard you did something to really piss off ol' man Lucifer. Now that's quite a feat. What'd you do, fuck all the serving Cherubim?"
She was a gem, alright.
"He's mad? I had no clue. I merely thought he wanted me to deliver my report in person." I snapped back.
"Whatever. Your business, not mine. Have a pleasant visit, Rep." She saluted again, before turning to watch two lower ranking demons terrorize one of the damned, arms crossed.
I promptly gave her turned back an affectionate one finger salute before stalking off. I heard someone approach the Guardian and stop. "Shift's up, Mata. Who was that demon?" I paused. That voice... I shook my head. No way.
"Representative Deamin." Mata replied calmly, before I closed my ears and started towards the obsidian castle, located on the highest of the non-smoking mountains.
"Hell's Representative Deamin to see you, sir." The lower demon bowed, and left the room, abandoning me to stand alone in the middle of the crimson meeting room. Lucifer, the caretaker of the underworld, sat behind the cheery wood desk.
He looked young, but he was ageless. His hair was light, like mine, but short, and feathery. His face, despite mortal lore, was kind with twinkling blue eyes, and laughing lines everywhere.
He looked up from a slight pile of papers, setting down his pen and reading glasses. "Ah. Deamin, just the demon I wanted to see. Sit down, please."
He motioned to the seat opposite of him, and I obliged. "You called for me?" I asked, the picture of demon innocence. Slouched in the chair, propping my head up with one hand, the other drumming on the desk. And of course, my face looked absolutely bored.
"Yes. Yes, I did. Do you know why? The reason?" He looked a bit agitated, now that I looked closer.
"No, sir."
"Well then. Can you tell me of what has happened up in heaven lately?" He had gotten up and started to pace.
"Well, their mining of opaque ore is coming along nicely and-" I was cut off with a punch to my lower jaw. It landed, and I groaned, my hand coming up and rubbing the hurt region. I looked up at my employer, question and outrage in my eyes. "What in Hell's name was that for?"
"You're dodging the question, something I'm not in the mood for today." He walked back around the desk, sitting down, and rubbing his temples. "Now, what has happened in Heaven that you personally had a hand in?"
I was quiet. "If you already know, sir, then don't make me say it." My fists clenched, falling down into my lap.
"Oh, but I need to hear your side, Deamin. You are, after all, the catalyst, the ingredient that made this happen."
I dropped my head, not able to look at the Devil, the one I once looked up to. "I made to purest of angels fall."