The Devils Revenge

Blood. Blood covered the walls and floors, all a perfect reminder of the gravity of his sins but all it did was bring a feeling of absolute righteousness through him burning like the fury that built in his soul for centuries. His stony cold eyes hardened on the figure slumped to the ground. Her head bowed as long locks of silvery white hair rained down in front of her face, tangled and windswept as it almost brushed the floor. Her legs were crumpled underneath the sad excuse of torn satin. The dress littered with slashes and the sleeves torn clean off. Her pale shoulders rocked with gentle sobs racking her chest as her arms bore her weight, her nails pressing into the dirty cement of the basement floor. Wings. He couldn’t see her wings. With a frown he kicked open the large metal gates and stormed his way inside her prison, pausing a few feet away. She was the purest thing he’d set eyes on since the day he was was kicked out, banished down into a world filled with savages and innocence begging to be corrupted, but it’s that innocence that drove the blood thumping around his body and his hands balled into fists almost turning purple with rage. It was the only thing he wanted to destroy. He wanted to leave her a shell of his sins, pour every ounce of hatred into her and make of her what his father had made of him. He wanted to take her and get his point already but there would be no fun in that. His father would fix her or create another, there was nothing that would allow him to soak in his father's misery as well as if he truly took her from him. If he could make her submit, have her willingly hand herself completely to his diabolical whims. If he could create himself in her, own her loyalty and infect her mind. If he could do that, then there would be no greater crime in the eyes of his maker. What was better revenge than taking his father's favourite angel? Slowly a pair of bright shimmering chocolate eyes laced themselves against his, the small hazel cross burnt still so perfectly in the middle of her pupils capturing the direction of his scowl, not an ounce of fear notable. He would burn them to shreds. He’d make her douse them in gasoline. Even if it meant hell freezing over, one way or another he’d have her cursing those wooden sticks to the three-headed cerberus all of her own accord. His own dark pools of whiskey eyes shot out in fire, thick orange and red flames licking spitefully back at the girl, back at the goodness seeping out from her and at the crosses that stood as an abomination to everything he once believed in. “W-where am I?” A whimper, barely audible from the scraping of metal chains against the cement floors as her eyes fled from his, her body tumbling back to the ground on her side as she shielded her eyes with a shaky bruised hand. Blood had pooled at the edges of her fingernails from the grip she held on the floor, her legs cut and her left arm with a deep s***h from her shoulder to her elbow. She trembled against the floor, her breath washing out in painful gasps as her other hand took a fistful of material in a death grip around her waist. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips at her disoriented state. For a second he had forgotten the toll The Fall could take on a soul let alone a body. Especially if they were torn out. Falling had been a memory he could never forget but a pain he couldn’t quite remember. Yet it had left him far beyond disoriented. He hadn’t been torn out, he hadn’t ‘Fallen’. He was banished, catapulted right out that shimmering pearly glass window ass first. “I don’t understand,” she whispered, her own voice a foreign noise to her ears. His boots shuffled against the ground pausing as he leaned down with his arms resting on his legs and tilted his head to the side examining his new specimen with a glaring sneer. “You’re lost. Far, far away from heaven little angel.” He breathed, his voice menacing as his hand snapped out snatching her chin and holding her head back to the light. “Kidnapped actually.” He examined her closely. Her flushed pink cheeks wet from her uncontrollable tears. That would be the case, beings that have never cried before even when the occasion arose would crumble when transitioning. The tears wouldn’t stop for a few more hours if not days. Her lips were plump, light pink around the edges and a darker shade in the centre, the top slightly bruised and he couldn’t help the frown that creased his forehead at the idea of one of his low lives laying a hand on anything far beyond their comprehension, far beyond their status. He may not be in favour with the Devine but he was one of them, made from them and he believed in order and hierarchy. It had been the fundamentals of organising their numbers. His eyes dropped to her perfectly casted button nose, a trait his father had passed to all his daughters. Her almond eyes fluttered closed, refusing to look into the pits of darkness drinking every detail of her in. The touch of her skin was warm, exhilarating. It sent a chill of coursing energy through him enough that had he been the slightest bit human, it would have sent him into a daze. There wasn’t a single mistake painted on her, not a single curve moulded wrong. She was his father's finest creation. She bore the same mark as them all, although his disfigured now since his banishment. A small halo with the cross stamped her skin just under the crook of her neck looking like burnt flesh. He allowed his hand to drift down to her neck, his thumb tracing slow reminiscent waves across it. His jaw had tensed now, the energy from touching something so seraphic beginning to draw the sweat from his skin. “He really did make you so tempting didn’t he?” His voice sounded lost in a trance, willing her to open her eyes to him. “That won’t serve you well here.” There wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t want to taste her. To know how forbidden fruit could satisfy the destruction in him or how she would feel wrapped around him, stroking him, clawing at him begging for a release she’d never known. The idea of setting fire to her core nature, lavishing her into the darkness she’d been created to abolish almost had him throwing all the millennia of planning down the drain to quench the rippling need spreading through him. His grip had tightened around her neck before he let her go and stood staring down at the confused girl at his feet. “You’ll be escorted to your room once you’ve transitioned. I wouldn’t try any braveries with Enoxen, he isn’t known for his clemency nor his forbearance.” he muttered, as if the information were merely an obligation. “I- W-where’s Michael?” She whispered, her voice carrying lightly through the air and pressing against his flesh in a tease. “Michael?” Laughter erupted through the walls, the sound still too new, too sharp for her to bear as she squirmed covering her ears. “Michael is nothing here. He holds no power in my world. It would do you good to remember that.” Just the name alone had set him on edge, the anger pouring through his body as he felt his eyes flicker with the flames he’s borne so well. Without another glance, he stormed from her prison before his temper out won his sanity.