Angel City Demon

[K Man]

Alright, having been to see Hellboy and just having an overall fascination with Planar struggles and the like, I've started a new story. I noticed I have been several holidays overdue for a new one, so I though I would make up.

As always, criticism in any form is appreciated...
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Angel City Demon

I.

[/b]

Balance.

That’s the reason a place like Angel City exists. Its purpose is driven by one of the most existential questions ever conceived…

What is light without dark?

Angel City is home to denizens of hell that have been assigned, for one reason or another, to exist in heaven. It is a great walled city of darkness in the center of a land of light. It is a proverbial zit on the otherwise immaculate face of paradise, a foreign embassy of evil in the land of good.

The planes threw themselves into turmoil when it and its’ sister city in hell, Devils’ Enclave, were built. Angels abhorred the thought of demons co-existing on their plane, let alone existing at all and most demons would have rather put themselves through their own tortures before having to live with their blessed brethren. Such things, however, are trivial when compared to decrees of gods. The cities were built despite sabotage attempts at both construction sites by rogue parties of demons and angels.

Angel City, an ironic nickname given to it by surly inhabitants, has been standing since antediluvian times.

It has not been without its’ share of troubled times as any city as old can easily claim. There have been revolts by insurgent angels, schemes and plots of malicious demons brought to life in power plays for control…even genocidal attacks aimed at destroying the population. Angel City has survived all of these and worse thanks to its clever defenses.

Its’ ebony towers and blackened spires stab into the sky eclipsing the surrounding lands in shadows that remain in stark contrast to anything else in heaven. Arch-demons sit in their rooms atop the spires launching balls of flame and death at angels that come to close. Hulking demons of impressive, titan-like strength wander the city streets looking for intruders of the heavenly variety to pummel to non-existence. The two great walls themselves that surround Angel City rise to towering heights topped with wicked spines coated in poisonous ichor. Although the last defense is in vain since nearly all of heavens inhabitants can fly on gossamer wings of silver feathers.

Still, one wishing to invade Angel City that is not a demon has an unprecedented task ahead of them.

Demon guards are constantly on the lookout for any angel that dares to cross the neutral lands between the great walls intent on gaining entrance into the city. They maintain an ever-vigilant watch with tritons of flame or any of a dozen other weapons of hellish design. Every last guard watches, waiting to deal death to an angel if they can, although a heavenly citizen hasn’t neared Angel City in over a thousand years. Every last demon…

…Except one…

Julian Dolosus sat cross-legged with his back against the very door he was supposed to be maintaining watch against. His whip of thorns and pain sat coiled in an inert pile nearby performing a task far from its designed duty, catching playing cards as Julian gingerly tossed them. Boredom had set into the mind of the old demon and he found this pastime to be far more entertaining than anything else of late.

Julian had spent decades in the watchtowers of the inner great wall but found himself staring longingly at the ivory landscape he was supposed to hate so he requested to remain on the ground. His new duty was to ensure heavenly hands never opened the doors to Angel City. He knew it had been a thousand years since a living angel had even made it to the inner great wall and it would be an easy job to guard the inner doors. The more prevalent thought in his mind was that he would not have to look upon the true inhabitants of heaven and constantly battle with the thoughts in his mind that he felt shouldn’t be there.

Julian hated being a demon.

He despised the way other demons would engage in revelry when a young angel would fly overhead on a dare from peers and be struck down by an Arch-demons’ flames. He would feel pangs of sorrow, as the angel would fall from the sky, wings scorched and body charred. He forced himself to suppress the urge to help the fallen youths of heaven as demons converged on them like vultures on carrion.

He hated trickery, deceit, plotting, backstabbing and the million other hurtful actions his kind took delight in. He hated convincing the mortals on earth through ruses to commit those same actions and condemn their souls for eternity to his home plane. He had spent several hundred years on earth doing exactly that and it left him with nothing but more questions of self-doubt and remorse.

Julian definitely hated being a demon.

Though his blood drove him to feel differently, Julian eventually succumbed to a side of his own mental struggle, the side that often thought he should have existed as an angel. That was the determining reason for Julian staying in Angel City when his term was to expire. Julian offered to take the place of an all too excited young demon that eagerly returned to hell and the torture of souls rather than guard duty in Angel City. Julian saw this exchange as an opportunity to get closer to those he admired and aspired to be…the angels.

Julian sighed as he flipped another playing card into the coils of his whip. He pondered repeatedly in his head on how to take down the barrier between his goal and eons of hatred and mistrust from both demons and angels. He knew angels would never accept his kind, no matter what test he passed that proved the kindness was hidden in his heart. He also knew that any public attempt to defect from his heritage would result in certain death at the hands of the enigmatic Arch-demons in the spires high above the streets or, even worse, in the jaws of the nightmarish creatures of the dungeons below the city.

Julian felt defeat creep into his heart once again like a slow moving mold, as it had for centuries before. He knew he was as far from his goal as he had been when he started having these ‘urges’ of discontent. He knew he would never be close to the angels.

Unknown to Julian, he would meet his first angel tonight …

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{More to come, just testing the waters for an idea like this...}

[BluSpecs]

You need to work on controling you temper ;











You said critisism in any form ;D ;D ;D ;D


I like the story idea, It's got some very Zen qualities to it. So is this stroy going to be morlistic or for entertainment purposes only?

[K Man]

Entertainment only...

Although if one finds subtle undertones of morality...that is their problem.

[Zarni]

still awaiting the thoughts on my stories you promised me some time ago...

but, yeah, it's good; not too sure about the name julian for a demon, though...

[K Man]

I chose Julian because the story eventually becomes comical at times and I didn't want a phrase like;

"Bosephus the Squamous chuckled slightly..."

It just doesn't work. Also, I dunno, something about a simple name that helps readers identify easier.

Something to think about anyway.

Thanks for the input.

[Zarni]

are you going for an almost pratchett-esque type of style?
coz that would work. i do like the background you've decribed, it's quite versatile; you could quite easily give it a sardonic twist, or make it read as slightly sarky.
certainly some interesting ideas there

[Japic]

The only thing I've got to say about this story is:

Please continue...

[Rayvynne]

I'd like to second Japic's comment.

[K Man]

{Thanks to everyone for their replies. In accordance, the next installment for your reading.}
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II.

[/b]

Julian tossed another card, using his given powers to ignite a small flame on the edge of the paperboard before letting it loose to fly into the pile with the others. The card tumbled into the stack, igniting each in turn like combustible dominoes until the entire pile began their slow transformation to ash. The gentle flickering light from the pyre danced upon Julians’ face showing a simultaneous mixed expression of hope and despondence. That expression changed to one of surprise when a resounding thud came from the door behind Julian.

Lunging forward, Julian grabbed his whip and spun on his heels as though he intended to use it with lethal force. When no more sounds came from the metal door that provided lumbar support to the demon moments ago, Julian finally relaxed and began to think of alternatives for the source of the noise. Quizzically Julian looked around, wondering if a group of rebellious younger demons were playing a trick. Finding nothing of the like, in fact, seeing no one at all, Julian took one cautious step forward, flinching as though the door were an explosive device set to detonate upon opening. He grabbed the latch with his crimson-skinned hand and pulled. Julian cracked the door open less than an inch to peer into the neutral land beyond.

He quickly felt that, in retrospect, had he known what was behind that door, he would have left it closed.

An angel lay slumped against the door, his breath coming in short raspy gasps. The wings of the once majestic angel were tattered remnants of their previous glory. The formerly shining armor had been dented and beaten to a ‘tin-can’ resemblance of how it used to be. The platinum hair that would have normally smelled faintly of honey as it fell in waves about the angels face was matted to his skull in thick, crimson splotches. Julian noticed deep and terminal wounds across the pale skin of the angel.

Shockingly, the broken shell of an angel rolled onto its back to face Julian, his eyes caked with blood and face racked with scars. Whoever had done this to the angel had taken their time, ensuring that each wound dug deep and would be beyond the angels’ powers of regeneration. The cracked and parched lips of the wounded being spread into a thin opening and puffs of air formed meager sounds as they were forced out…Words; the angel was trying to talk.

“Esienyl…too long…”

The weak attempts at words were cut short by a series of lengthy violent coughing fits. The angel resumed his statement as though he hadn’t been interrupted.

“…of Echoes. They are…”

Julian was sure the angel was close to death as the remainder of the blood from within found its way past the thin lips and flowed freely down the chin and throat of the angel.

The death throws had begun.

Julian knelt down and provided a place for the angels’ head to rest while he gently stroked the dying angels’ hair. Julian felt on the verge of tears when the blood-heritage inside of him stiffened his resolve. He looked into the eyes of the dying angel and saw his reflection in the mirrored orbs, a reflection of hope that this sad being would live to see justice served for his killers.

His face melted with emotion and for the first time in his existence, the demon Julian felt a single wet ear stream down his cheek. It fell from his smooth red skin and landed without a sound on the angels’ forehead. Julian managed to keep the rest of the tears that would surely flow inside as he shut his eyes tight and just felt with the angel in his arms die with his trembling hands. Julian held his breath as long as he could after the angel had gone limp not wanting to open his eyes and face the truth he knew would be staring back at him.

Julian reached out, keeping his eyes closed, and felt for the eyelids of the angel. He gingerly forced them shut and removed the angels body from his lap and laid it to the ground. Upon standing, Julian finally forced his eyes open, but did not glance down, instead looking instinctively back towards the inner streets of Angel City.

That makes two things tonight I didn’t want to see…

Julians’ thoughts of irony ran quickly through his head as he watched a group of younger demons coming darting over the scene. They quickly encircled Julian and the recently dead angel but their faces were far from the older demons’. They delighted in the death of the angel. Some of the youthful gang kicked and prodded the dead body with tridents and swords watching the lifeless flesh puncture and ooze more of the draining lifeblood. Julian listened to their mockery, restraining his urge to retort.

“Look at him. This rivals some of the Arch-Demons work…”

“Filthy angel got what he deserved. Look at his pathetic face.”

“Hope it hurt…”

Another youth bent down and took a closer look. He then stood to full height again and grabbed a companion by the shoulder and pointed. Julian looked back at the object of the youths’ excitement. A strange mark was bared on the calf of the angel, in the same place it is on their entire breed. The marking denotes an angels’ position in heaven, their duties and responsibilities and also their name. Julian gasped as the youth that noticed the mark spoke exactly what he was thinking.

“He’s an Inquisitor.”

An Inquisitor. The ‘Watchers of All’. A special breed of angel whose sole purpose of existence is to investigate, interrogate and deliver justice to those that would break laws, commit indecencies or just aren’t pure of heart. Julian had heard that members of this breed of angel were above the laws of both earth and heaven. They also had been rumored to be more than apt physically to deal the justice they felt necessary. Julian instantly knew that those responsible for this murder must have been mighty or great in number.

Julian looked again at the mark and noticed that the angels’ name was Ammiel.

The young demons, in unison, moved their glances up from the dead angel to meet Julians’’ eyes. The sea of faces staring at the older demon was nothing less then struck with awe. They instantly encircled him and began to usher him back inside the city gates, patting him on the back like a proud father or most valuable player in a popular game on earth. Julian glanced back and noticed one of the group was dragging the lifeless Ammiel into the city with them.

[K Man]

The questions began to fire at Julian in rapid succession.

“How did you do it?”

“Did it feel good to kill the angel?”

“Did he scream or beg for his life?”

The older demon felt his head swimming as he blurted out answers that weren’t necessarily the truth.

“I just did…”

“…Sure…”

“Umm, no…”

Julian was too focused on the shock of the first being, native to the plane he so desired and was beginning to feel at home at, dying in his arms without much explanation. He wished it could have been different. He would have liked to see Ammiel in better form, perhaps asked him his interests and engaged in a conversation that no demon or angel has ever had. Instead Ammiel had to stumble into Julians’ life half-dead and finish the process in the confused demons’ arms.

Before he could contemplate any more thoughts and wishes, Julian found himself at the base of a very tall and dark spire near the heart of the city. If Julian remembered his local legend correctly, this was the tower of Marduk, an Arch-demon of great and ill repute. The group of demons kept Julian surrounded and pounded on the ebony door of the staggering tower with a resounding echo from within. The series of knocks was an erratic order, probably only known to those demons that were allowed audience with Marduk regularly. The door opened shortly afterwards, groaning under protest of usage, to reveal a single spiral staircase that appeared be able bear less than a single person on its’ steps.

The young demons, still mocking and cackling with glee, ushered Julian onto the lower landing and up the rickety, stone steps of unknown durability. The trailing youth demon drug the dead Ammiel behind him and the sound of the angels’ battered armor hitting every step reverberated through the hollow tower. Julian answered some more questions falsely and made some promises of friendship and loyalty he had no intention of keeping with the cadre of young demons as they continued their elated parade to the top of the tower. The group stood on a landing before an even darker door than below and bellowed for entrance to the chamber beyond.

A voice boomed response from within, deep enough to be felt in the bones of Julians’ chest and allowing them entry. As the door swung inward, Julian felt himself overwhelmed with the smell of smoke, sulfur and rotting meat. It was a smell normally accompanying stronger, older demons but one that had become unpleasant for Julian to inhale in the past few years. The air from within even seemed to rush outwards, finding clean brethren to mix with and dilute its’ potent saturation.

The chamber beyond was filled with a solitary plush chair centered near a window overlooking Angel City and most of heaven beyond. A small telescope rested on the windowsill and most likely provided its user a clear view of distant objects. Julian became aware of a figure, sitting on the lone chair.

The figure rose to a height well over Julians’ own frame of six feet, but much more slender. In fact, Julian thought this demon had never consumed a meal in its’ life with the ribs and bones dangerously close to protruding from the skin. Eyes of solid darkness were sunk into cavernous sockets shaded by overhanging brows. Small, yellowed horns lined the bald-skinned head in neat rows from front to back and were in stark contrast to the blackened scalp. Wicked talons stabbed forth from the ends of the fingers much like the molded teeth that nearly pierced the lips each time they moved. The figure opened its mouth and the deep voice felt within Julians’ chest resumed.

“Why do you come here? What are you…”

Almost as quickly as the question was conceived, the answer was realized.

The figure, presumably Marduk, opened its’ jaws and hissed like a snake that has been stepped on. It was only seconds later that Julian realized this was how the Arch-demon expressed joy.

“An angel? A dead one at that.”

“Yes Marduk.”

One of the younger demons answered Marduks’ question and statement simultaneously. Marduk knelt and reached for the bloodied calf of the angel to identify the corpse by its’ markings. The hiss and raspy wheeze of the nearest feeling to joy a demon can have escaped Marduks’ lips once again. Julian winced at the high-pitched noise.

“The Inquisitor Ammiel! This is a good day in Angel City indeed! Tell me…” Marduk looked to the gang of demons, focusing on Julian. “…who did this?”

Before Julian could contradict otherwise, a member of the young demons spoke his version of the truth.

“He did lord. Saw it with our own eyes. Took the angels’ life in the neutral zone just outside the entrance to our city. We found him hovering over the body after delivering the deathblow. Good thing too, otherwise this angel could have been within the city walls…”

As though to emphasize his point, the young demon gave the body on the floor a good, resounding kick with his cloven foot and then slapped the still stunned Julian on the back. During this exciting but inaccurate recount, Julian couldn’t help but notice Marduks’ eyes never veered from his own. Marduk scratched his black chin with his razor talons and narrowed his eyes to slits, piercing Julian with his eyes. He spat his next words with venom.

“Leave us, I must congratulate and reward this demon.”

The gang of youths left the room but not before delivering a few more handshakes and thanks to Julian who never moved his eyes from Marduks’. Once the gang was gone, Julian found himself staring at Marduk and wondering if the Arch-demon planned on saying anything. Eventually the silence was broken by Marduks’ booming voice.

“Do you have a name, demon?”

Marduk turned and walked over to the body of Ammiel and began scrutinizing it again.

“We all do…” Julian retorted. “…The name is Julian.”

“Well, Julian, tell me how you came face to face with the Inquisitor Ammiel. How did you manage to best him in combat with little to no weaponry?”

Julian thought quickly, but Marduk was already set with an answer to his rhetorical question.

“You didn’t. Did you? In fact, I doubt you even understand the effect of this occurrence. I’ve seen Ammiel level human cities for their indiscretions, I’ve seen him kill the most powerful Arch-demons with a mere strike and I’ve seen him level the armies of hell without tiring. His death will undoubtedly bring about another war with heaven on many levels.”

Julian stood stunned. He had really hoped his first meeting with an angel would go infinitely better than this was turning out to be.

“This will not go over well with the Octet. This will not go over well at all.”

Julian knew Marduk was referring to the council of eight Arch-demons that ruled Angel City…as much as a city filled with anarchists and traitors could be ruled anyway. They developed laws that were usually broken daily and controlled small sects of the city, always plotting to overthrow each other. The Octet was composed of the most vile and ancient demons in existence and it was this last fact that made Julian cringe. Marduk resumed his speech, which was turning out to be more like external monologue.

“Heaven will undoubtedly send assassins as retribution…maybe even an army to pound the gates down before flooding the streets with angel soldiers. This is not what we need right now. However, if they had someone to kill…someone to take the blame for the killing, perhaps Angel City would be left untouched.”

Julian stood stunned as Marduk sprung into action.

Moving with a speed Julian did not think he possessed, Marduk reached for Julians’ arm and held it steadfast with tyrannical strength. The ebony Arch-demon then reached down and tightly gripped the leg of the fallen Ammiel. While Marduk held each limb in a single hand, Julian simultaneously saw the marking from the calf of Ammiel smoke and fade from the ivory skin while his leg felt as though it were suddenly affected by the flames he would spend days in as a youth. Through his squinted eyes that he desperately tried to close from the pain, Julian could see that the very markings that denoted Ammiels’ position, rank and name were being burned into his own leg.

Within seconds the pain had ended and Julian collapsed to the stone floor as Marduk releases his grip. The body of Ammiel began to fade into wisps of smoke and ivory dust, as all angels do when their body is destroyed. Julian became faintly aware of Marduk speaking as he floated in and out of the world around him, his mind reeling from the pain.

“There we go. With that trophy that most angel killers take anyway, heaven will blame you for the killing and leave Angel City untouched…”

The remainder of Marduks’ words fell on deaf ears as Julian slipped into the blissful ignorance of unconsciousness.
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[Merovingian]

Keep it coming.

[K Man]

{As requested}
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III.

Julian became vaguely aware of the hand that was repeatedly slapping the side of his face.

As his head swam back to reality bringing with it what felt like a terrible headache, Julian managed to raise his hand and prevent what would have been the fifth slap…that he was able to remember. A voice followed the prevented slapping.

“Hey, he is still alive.”

There was a pause before the voice resumed.

“ You owe me some money.”

Julian tried his hardest to recognize the voice without making his head hurt more than it already did. After a moment, he found the memory in the shattered remnants of the last few events of his mind. It was one of the young demons that found him over Ammiels’ body, the one with yellowed shaggy fur covering his entire body down to the booted feet. Julian forced his eyes to open despite their best resistance.

He knew he was leaning against a wall in some dingy alley of Angel City, although the exact location escaped him. The group of younger demons from before all gathered around him with the hairy one bent over to provide arms reach for slapping. Once he noticed that Julian was alive and awake, he stood to his full height and looked to the others. A particularly weasel-looking demon reached into a pouch on his belt with a huff and produced some money for the hairy demon. Apparently there was a bet placed on Julians’ continued existence and he had beaten the odds. The hairy demon began to speak again and Julian noticed his voice was similar to more of a guttural growl than words.

“We thought you were dead. Actually a few of us hoped for it because it meant we would collect on some bets.”

Julian felt disgusted by the typical demon attitude he was faced with.

“Anyways. Not really sure what happened between you and Marduk back there, but he told us to drop you off somewhere far from his tower.”

Julian took a closer look at his surroundings. He was on the opposite side of Angel City, far from Marduk indeed but thankfully closer to his own home. Julian intended to stumble there as soon as he was able to. The young beast-demon resumed his speech.

“He also said to tell you that ‘you’re not to near his tower again. Not that you’ll live long enough to anyway…’ Whatever that means.” The demon jabbed a finger at the still-smoking marks on Julians’ calf, formerly on Ammiels’ body. “You took him down. Anyone foolish enough to take you on deserves to die, right?”

Julian felt a slap on his shoulder, again, another sign of brotherly respect from one demon to another. Julian paid little attention as his eyes were still fixed upon the mark he now bore on his right leg. Julian forced a little air out of his mouth and over the charred flesh to blow away the trails of smoke. The breath felt cold compared to the residual heat of the branding. The beast-demon spoke.

“Well anyway, we’re headed out of here and no matter what Marduk says, we think you’re one hell of a demon. Maybe we’ll see you again…?”

The demon trailed its’ last words and left them as a question, indicating he would like to know Julians’ name.

“Amme…I mean Julian.”

The beast-demon looked at Julian with an eyebrow raised, then shrugged his shoulders and left to catch up to his other companions that were quickly walking away towards the center of Angel City. Julian furled his brow as he tried to think of a reason why, moments ago, he nearly proclaimed himself as Ammiel the Inquisitor. He couldn’t think of any reason aside from, ‘it felt like the right answer.’

Julian placed a hand on the wall behind him and pushed with every ounce of strength his tired body could muster. It was barely enough to get him standing on shaky legs in the dingy alley. The pain from the charred markings shot through Julians’ leg and nearly made him tip over, face-first into a shallow puddle of something best left unmentioned. The demon managed to maintain his balance and began the slow, self-forced march back to his home. Each step forced a slight whimper or at least a wince from Julian and the smell of burned flesh seemed to follow him everywhere. More than once during this arduous trip, Julian found himself on the ground and having to find the strength within him to continue.

How on earth are these marks supposed to help you?

Julian thoughts raced through his mind based on bits and pieces of information he had heard throughout the ages. As was with his kind and angels, vicious battles often erupted for no reason other than breed. In the case of the demon being victorious, the markings would often be transferred from the loser to the victor and granted some power of the fallen enemy to the victor that took the sigils. These were often ‘badges’ worn by powerful demons, as a symbol of respect the demon should be awarded by others. Angels shunned branding the markings of demons, as their bodies were usually perfect to begin with and most would rather not wear sigils of evil that granted strange powers. However, it was not uncommon for power Arch-angels to wear items taken from their enemies like trophies.

Still, this bit of trivia did little to help Julians’ current situation.

Julian had seen demons with the captured markings of fallen angels before and they never seemed in pain from them. They would even disfigure the markings and names into blasphemous and mocking translations with sharp knives during drinking binges. Julian couldn’t imagine touching his markings with his fingers, let alone disfiguring them with a knife. The pain seemed to intensify with each step and Julian knew there were many more steps between his current position and home.

He trudged forward through the streets of Angel City, ignoring other demons that came across his path or noticed Julians’ new markings and congratulated him on them. After what seemed like an eternity, Julian found himself before the door to his small home and ready to collapse from the pain. He traced a flaming finger on the door, his insignia for a private method of entry like all demons had, and listened to the hinges creak with glee. He was finally home.

When Julian saw what was behind the door, for a second time tonight he quickly wished he hadn’t opened the door…
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[Zarni]

ooh, i like it!

one or two little things, your apostrophe use is often a little wrong, and proof reading for little typos would help certain bits read better; for example plural agreement at the beginning, with the pile of cards.

'The air from within even seemed to rush outwards, finding clean brethren to mix with and dilute its’ potent saturation.' - i love this line! ;D no apostrophe in the its, though.

i also particularly liked your description of marduk, very lugubrious...

looking forward to the next installment already!

[Wrolf]

The more I read, the more I get dragged into the story. Now I what more history, want more about the politics, and more about what will happen to Julian. Great story, keep it going.

[K Man]

The more I read, the more I get dragged into the story.

{That's the point. I'll get to history and politics eventually. Gotta do a little character defining and plot development first.}

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IV.

“Prepare to be run through by the sword of justice, murderer. I am…”

That was all Julian heard before he quickly pulled the door shut.

He kept his hands wrapped tightly around the handle and tried to forget what he had seen. An angel, in his room, with a brilliant sword of flame leveled directly at his head. The gossamer wings were outstretched and enveloped in a soft halo of light, like all angels. This particular angel was a female, an attractive sample of the race Julian thought, but that did not change the fact that she had just delivered a death threat to his face.

Just to ensure he wasn’t suffering from a delusional episode brought on by the branding of Ammiels markings or just plain going crazy, Julian cracked the door open and peered through the small slit again. Sure enough, there the angel stood, although her expression had changed from one of scorn and hate to one that slightly resembled Julian’s own of surprise and confusion. Julian emitted a short noise similar to the squeak of an earth mouse and pulled the door shut again. Just as the seal of the door was made whole again, Julian heard the angels’ wings flutter and knew she was coming to the door quickly.

Julian began to stumble down the street again in an attempt to place distance between himself and the angel behind him. Julian spun around and fell to the ground as he heard the door thrown open with great strength and probably anger to match. The angel fluttered into the streets and looked the opposite direction before turning her head and catching a glimpse of her target. With a grace and poise Julian did not think a creature could possess, the female angel began her stride towards him again with the silver blade of her sword leveled and encased in flames of purity. Julian tried to scoot backwards faster than she could walk, but his attempt was in vain.

The female angel resumed her interrupted speech from earlier.

“As I was saying, prepare to be run through murderer. I am Ophelia, deliverer of justice and bringer of death to those that slay our kind.”

Julian tried to keep backing up with his arms, but his strength began to fade and he collapsed on his back as he felt unconsciousness coming forth like a tidal wave.

“I didn’t kill Ammiel! Please, you have to understand…” Julian spat in desperation.

“I understand all too well demon. You slew Ammiel for his strength and you bear his marks upon your body. You speak lies…as do all your kind.”

The angel lowered her flaming sword dangerously close to Julian’s leg where the branded mark of Ammiel still simmered. Julian noticed the heat from her blade made the infinite pain he was feeling even worse. Julian tried to voice his retort to the angels’ last comment but could only roll his eyes back into his head and faint for the second time tonight. As he slipped into the oblivion of a senseless state, Julian heard the final words of the angel muttered beneath her breath.

“Now that’s interesting…”

***

Julian felt his mind making the slow arduous trek back to reality. He wasn’t sure if his poor body could handle much more of this abuse but as he regained consciousness, he suddenly felt better…no invigorated. It was as though he had a strength he did not possess before his episode. Julian opened his eyes fully and looked around.

He was in his home, lying on his back on his couch.

He looked above his head and saw the lamp he was given by a demon friend a long time ago that was missing its human-skin lampshade that Julian couldn’t stand looking at. He looked at his feet and saw the wall that had a painting of his father that had always hung there. Julian smiled for an instant as he suddenly felt as though the nightmare of the past day was just that, figment of his sometimes-overactive imagination.

When Julian tried to sit up, he was suddenly and painfully reminded that it was not a nightmare but a cold, stinging reality.

“You’re restrained. You can struggle but the thorns will dig into you.”

The voice was that of the female angel from before.

Straining and looking at his chest, Julian noticed that he was strapped to the couch by a series of intertwined ropes that protruded razor sharp thorns. Small rivulets of crimson had made puddles on his chest where the thorns punctured his skin from the first attempt to move. Turning his head to the side, Julian saw the female angel sitting in a chair across the room from him.

He wings rested behind her in a folded position and the extra bulk of the feathers forced her chest forward as the designers of hells chairs had never intended to have an angel sit comfortably on them. Julian took special note of her pale skin and platinum hair that framed her ivory face in a picturesque manner. Her supple legs were crossed very politely and her lithe arms rested across her chest squeezing and accentuating her bosom. Julian suddenly found himself blushing as he realized both that this was the first time he had spoken with an angel and that he found her incredibly attractive. Julian managed to blurt out his first thoughts.

“Why doesn’t my leg hurt?”

The angel, Julian remembered her name, Ophelia, answered with a strange response.

“Because I healed it.”

Julian shifted his body so he could address the angel with more respect and so he could better absorb her visually.

“What?”

“The mark on your leg was…in a sense, poisoned.” Ophelia responded.

“Why would it be poisoned?” Julian spoke his mental question aloud.

“I was hoping you could tell me. It was very powerful magic. Whoever put it there must have known what they were doing.”

Julian spoke the next thing that came to his mind. Blurting was becoming a habit.

[K Man]

“I didn’t kill Ammiel.”

Ophelia hung her head low for a moment of remembrance. Once her silent revelry was complete, she lifted her head and looked at Julian through pale blue eyes.

“I know Julian…I know.”

“How did you…? My name?” Julian’s words betrayed his own confusion.

“While you were unconscious, I did some soul-searching…through yours, not mine.” Ophelia answered with a smile.

Julian caught the smile and Ophelia quickly shook it from her face with a serious expression again.

“Well if you knew that, why am I still tied up?” Julian added playful sarcasm to his tone.

“Because I don’t trust you, demon.” Ophelia’s voice suddenly became forceful and hateful.

Julian had heard this tone before, at least a dozen times when demons and angels spoke words before battle. Not wanting to be involved in a battle with Ophelia when armed, let alone tied in a compromising position on his couch, Julian tried his best to recover.

“I’m sorry, I just thought that if you had looked into me, you would know how I felt.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I can only see things through your eyes as they were. I saw Ammiel die before you, and you holding him in your arms.” Ophelia lowered her head again.

“Didn’t you look further than that?”

Julian asked, trying to see if Ophelia had seen how Julian had spent the last few months on the walls of Angel City, hoping for some kind of transformation from being a demon. Her next response led Julian to believe for certain that she had not.

“Why would I?” Ophelia questioned with all sincerity.

With those three words, Julian felt the hope for anything beyond short words and insults between Ophelia and himself slip away. He moved his head to face the back of the couch and sighed audibly. He heard Ophelia shift in her chair. For several moments, neither angel nor demon voice graced the air.

“Well, if you don’t trust me and you haven’t looked further than what you felt was necessary, why keep me alive?” Julian resolved himself to dying here and now.

He felt that if the remainder of the angels were anything like the dangerous beauty, Ophelia, he didn’t want to meet any more angels at all. Ophelia sounded defeated as her position of superiority flittered away with an admission of frailty.

“I couldn’t do it.”

Julian rolled over to face Ophelia again, ignoring the thorns from his restraints cutting his skin. Ammiels mark was making him feel stronger and his angel captor admitting defeat even stronger.

“After I saw the look in your eyes, I couldn’t kill you. Besides, it wasn’t part of my duty. I was sent here to kill the one that murdered Ammiel, not an innocen…” Ophelia tripped on this last word, her mind still coming to grips with speaking to a demon. “…not another demon.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Why keep me alive?” Julian asked.

“Because I haven’t seen a look like that in a demon…ever. I’m not sure what to think of you, but I can’t bring myself to kill you even though every ounce of my body wants to.” Ophelia sighed. “I don’t know what to do with you, but death doesn’t seem right.”

Julian smiled.

Thinking quickly, as he’s always been able to do, he thought of an ultimatum that would hopefully get him out of this potentially dire situation.

“Ophelia…” Julian looked the angel dead in the pale blue eyes with his demon eyes of crimson. “…I can help you find out who killed Ammiel. Release me now and we work together, or kill me and go about your investigation.”

A smile of satisfaction spread across Julians face. He felt fairly confident that Ophelia would take him up on his offer. He watched with fixed eyes and held breath for a response of some kind from the angel.

When she stood and withdrew her flaming blade from the scabbard on her back, Julian silently cursed his mouth for even delivering the demand. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for pain he was sure would be a thousand times worse than when Marduk transferred Ammiels markings.

He felt the blade gently graze his skin in one swift, smooth stroke.

Cautiously opening one eye, Julian saw Ophelia standing over him and furling her brow in an impatient expression.

“Well?” Ophelia questioned rhetorically.

Julian felt along his side where the blade gently ran across seconds ago. The ropes were cut. There was a small line of skin that had been nearly punctured by the flaming blade and was slightly raised from the near-wound.

“Ow…” Julian muttered.

Ophelia huffed and turned towards the door of Julians home, heading back out into Angel City, turning her head slightly to speak back to the Julian.

“Come on. We have work to do…”

__________________________________________________________________________________________

[Zarni]

wow! an angel wandering around angel city...
how did she get in?
what will she do now?
will she be able to kick any demon's but if he gets in her way?

(just a thought: are there female demons?)

[Japic]

You've got my attention still, where's this thing going? I eagerly await the next chapter.

[K Man]

where's this thing going?

To hell, if it doesn't change its ways...
__________________________________________________________________________________________

V.

Julian sprung from the couch with the newly found strength the mark of Ammiel gave him. He silently thanked Ammiel for the strength, yet mourned the loss the world would feel without him. Julian hurriedly moved through the door and followed Ophelia into the streets of Angel City. He spun around, once past the threshold, and began to make the private mark to seal his door out of habit. Once finished, he turned to continue his trailing of Ophelia through Angel City. He nearly tripped over a passing demon as he did so, but managed to mutter an insult as apologies were rarely traded among demons.

Julian froze.

There, not more than five from him, stood Ophelia with her wings folded back, in plain sight of every demon, male or female, that happened to be in that area of the city. Julian looked to his left, to the demon that just passed right by him, expecting to see that demon flying into blind rage towards Ophelia. Instead the demon just walked by, muttering another passing friendly insult to Julian. Another pair of demons squabbled across the street about an apparently unpleasant episode of intimacy that occurred the night before, both oblivious to the angel that stood, tapping an impatient foot in the middle of Angel City.

Julian looked at each of the demons that passed by and ignored Ophelia with a confused stare. Ophelia preemptively answered his question.

“They can’t see me as you do Julian.”

“Why not? And why can I see you as you are?” Julian still had a puzzled look about him, and rightfully so in his mind.

“Because of this.”

Ophelia reached between the pale cleavage of her chest and produced a small platinum medallion on a necklace that not only matched her hair and armaments perfectly, but apparently had a magical purpose to it as well.

“It’s called a disguise. To all demons it makes me seem like ‘just another demon’, non-descript and not worth remembering. The reason you can seem me is because I choose to let you. What good would old fashioned justice be if you thought it was another demon dispensing it instead of an angel of vengeance?” Ophelia seemed to take great pride in her medallion, leaning closer for Julian to study visually.

Julian looked it over and then focused his eyes on Ophelia’s chest beyond. The angel must have noticed for she huffed audibly in disgust and turned, heading towards the inner wall of Angel City and the exit. Julian quickly thought of a way to continue conversation and to not seem so obsessed with Ophelia physically.

“So…since you’re not going to be ‘dispensing the justice’ to me, does that mean you’ll change to look like another demon?”

“No.” Ophelia spoke over her shoulder as they passed another group of demons on the street. “You’ve seen me for what I am, disguises won’t work on you now…for me at least. Until I get a new disguise.”

Julian thought of a few more questions as he trotted along to keep pace with the amazingly quick and extremely graceful Ophelia.

“So can other angels see you as you are? And is this ‘disguise’ one-of-a-kind?”

Ophelia stopped in her tracks. She spun on her heel and looked at Julian with a stare that made the ebony-skinned demon cringe.

“We’re not going to get very far if you keep asking questions that don’t relate to the death of Ammiel. Is this how you investigate a murder?”

“No. I’m sorry.” Julian responded meekly.

It then struck Julian that the last comment was the first time he had ever apologized sincerely in his existence. To anyone but a demon, it would seem trivial, but demons never apologized with sincerity. Only to deceive or to escape a situation that was potentially harmful. Ophelia seemed to take some small note of the victimized expression Julian put forth and melted slightly.

“Yes Julian, other angels can see me for what I am. There are hundreds of these ‘disguises’, most of them right here in Angel City. In fact, if rumors among angels are true, demons have a form of disguise of their own that they have used for eons…in fact, it’s where we got the idea.” Ophelia pointed towards a group of demons playing a street game with dice made from human skin. “See the one on the left, aside from everyone else…he’s an angel.”

Julian followed Ophelia’s finger towards the group playing in the street. He did see a demon aside from all the others, leaning against the wall with the usual sneer of a hell-dweller in heaven. It looked like a demon from here to Julian with cloven feet, lavender skin and two clean rows of horn that protruded from the bald skull. Julian did note, however, that is seemed to be an exceptionally graceful and attractive demon…even for a male. Julian wondered if this was the key to spotting an angel in disguise.

Ophelia silently nodded to the disguised angel who nodded acknowledgement in return.

“Now, come on.” Ophelia tugged on Julian’s shoulder. “We have to get moving. The longer you delay in an investigation, the colder the trail becomes.”

Ophelia began to stride towards the inner wall of Angel City again, with Julian in tow silently. The demon pondered over the information he was just given in his head.

‘Hundreds of disguises’? ‘Right here in Angel City’? Julian began to feel flooded with feelings he couldn’t explain. For months he had desired to be so close to angels, to be with them and experience the world through their eyes. How many demons had he glanced by, mistaking them for another demon not worth mentioning? How many angels had he stood next to or walked next to on the streets? Julians mind was reeling.

It wasn’t long before Julian snapped from his circle of mental questions and noticed that both he and Ophelia stood before a door leading to the neutral area between the inner and outer walls of Angel City. Ophelia turned and addressed Julian with a more commanding tone.

“Are you ready?”

[Merovingian]

;D