It began like a listless, fevered dream; my soul stretched apart like a canvas worn thin; the gentle ebb and flow of a sputtering heart rocked me slowly in a world devoid of features. Sinews of consciousness barely touched one another, sparking with flashes of life, of reality around me for just a moment before they drifted apart, back to nonexistence. My reality was devoured by something empty, barren and white. Silence in its purest form.
Drifting, aimlessly, the waves began to collect, faster then before. I strained, mind twitching with thought in my dreams, tension becoming greater and greater. More thoughts, more life! A spark, a jolt of energy, a snap of vibrancy much more brilliant than before hit me hard, snapping my mind back to reality, back to the very real world I had detached from. Everything had been white, brighter and brighter, something lovely, peaceful and new as I opened my eyes.
I awoke in the bowels of Hell. Light faded entirely, a
With weary, dragging steps, I found myself overlooking the neighborhood, still cast in darkness. Lights dotted the streets, the stars starting to fade as the early dawn approached, still some time away. The roof was lit in subtle blues, darkest parts still almost indefinable. It was pretty, it really was. I lay down on the roof, head draping over the peak, absorbing this new neighborhood. The streets were lined up, parallel to one another, with a larger, intersecting street at the end; down this same street, all the houses lined up identically. The homes across the way were still closed up, lights off, people sleeping peacefully inside.
The clouds above me skated across the sky; thin, wispy lines that looked almost dark in comparison. There was very little sound, very little disturbance, general peace. I lay there, practically catatonic, unmotivated and filled with regrets; it was my
There was no dream. No waves of energy, no knowledge of what happened around me. The demon had shut me off from any scrap of life. I held no more presence then a wisp of smoke, no more prestige then a faint aroma. I lingered, clutching desperately to those dammed blue eyes like a hoax. It wouldnt leave me alone.
I began to feel sketchy; a loosening of my being. Scared, nervous, I pulled tighter into myself; wound myself close before I noticed the light. A pin prick of radiance, seemingly thousands of miles above me, streaming down like a beam from heaven; it jerked in strange patterns, burning through the darkness as if it tore the world apart. I looked to the sky, barely illuminated as it grew to be a torrent-like wave of water, a column of happiness, burning against my skin like acid as I was encased in it. I screamed in pain, arching back out of instinct, my flesh painfully integrating into the light, dissolving and
My dream was filled with colored skies, of clouded spires, of flying. The sky was painted in hues of green as more color mixed in further up, clouds reaching high above me, ending only as they drifted out of sight. It was a perfectly endless sky as I walked beneath, taking tentative steps. The sun warm, the day calm; wind blew beautifully. It was something I missed, the wind. It was accepting and reassuring at the same time, showed you how you truly existed, how life was able to move around you as an actual thing. More then that, it was the essence of vitality, the force that never grew still; I pined for it dearly in my waking hours. But this was not reality.
With unbridled joy I began to run, feeling it all, the grass underneath my feet, the wind, the sun, the air of everything around me, so alive. My heart pounded out of my chest, eyes open as I ran, stretching my limits, passing and conquering each hills as I ran past it
The days panned out to have a lot of free hours in them, squatting in that tiny room with my less then tiny demon body in silent protest. At the end of the third day, I forgot exactly what I was protesting, mind washing over itself, unable to keep up that unbending anger. I gave in to just generally being bored. I knew my original purpose was to show I refused to be that punching bag, that I refused to talk to him after he thought it was okay to chase me down to kill me and blame it on the priest's strangely passionate obsession with football. More then that, how attacking me and blaming someone else and taking no responsibility for becoming a controlling asshole was not going to fly. I didn't care if he was a saint from here on out, the side I saw was terrifying. Maybe I kept myself in here to keep away from him. Maybe I was afraid to face him.
Occasionally, he'd huff and puff, come over by the room and yell things at my back that ranged from half-a
"Putting a little more song and dance into this routine, eh?" The demon mocked me, the two of us bristling. It gurgled around on disjointed hands, lurching forward without a lot of grace. I'd been waiting for this, for a real fight; practicing on being as fluid as possible, as graceful as a chunk-headed demon like I could be. The best I had scared away in my time guarding here was some unwanted solicitors, and the occasional moral lacking teen who though it'd be fun to throw rocks at the house next to the cemetery. By comparison, a large, black lumbering mass of half-exorcised demon was a whole different challenge. I didn't circle because I was looking for an open opportunity; I circled because I wasn't sure what to do. Could two demons even kill one another? Weren't we supposed to be on the same team?
Was I even really a demon, then?
The monster surged at me again in a charge, grabbing hold o
"Eh!" I grunted at Raziel, scouring the various crap around the room in complete and utter boredom. He pretty much just gave up on trying to actively hide what things were about, what he did and didn't tell, as long as it didn't get personal. So I was free to point and grunt at what I wanted to know, and he'd tell me. This time, it was a small silver cross, about an inch high, with some sort of description on the bottom in a language I wasn't sure was real. Flipping it onto the back, I could see it was a pin of some sort.
"You get that for graduating the Angelic Academy" He sat on the couch, half aware, half zoned out, late on a Sunday night.
Snickering lamely, I placed the item back on the shelf, looking around curiously at whatever else I could learn.
Fourth months had passed since the goat demon, things remaining generically peaceful. Every now and then Raziel had to check in with Gauzier, what he'd exorcised, any problems he'd had, what he'd be
I spent that day outside, broken, disheartened, a heaping pile in the field. Did my best to ignore the massive graveyard next to me, or notice the mount of dirt with the grass seeds sprinkled over it in the middle of it, where some big, dumb idiot of a demon came bursting out of the ground. I didn't look around much, mostly cringed at how long my nose was, and cringed at the stubby-ness of my demonic fingers. Vanity was on my mind.
There was a gratuitous amount of sulking involved, self loathing at what I was forced to be, self regret for being stuck with the people I hurt. I could tell it was a stupid thing to do, that of all things to worry about, worrying about what I had no control of was low on the list. I could fix it; the thought rang in my head, and pulled my shredded will together enough to sit up and drag myself off the ground. The sun was low in the sky, the tall trees on the rim of the for
I felt like I was repenting for all my demonic transgressions, right here and now standing by this smouldering clump of pure angelic death. It was a subtle jab, Raziels idea to prop me right next to this thing, watch me writhe as I did my best not to cross my eyes and gag on the stench, of the aroma wafting through the large, expansive house. Holy incense.
"This should drive out our demon, don't you think?" Gauzier fanned the fire just next to me, happily grinning and completely oblivious to the torment I smiled through. It was a horrible, horrible smell, a mix of rotting bodies, sour cream, molded rat poison doused in sulfur; they told me it smelled like lavender. The stuff made my lungs drop out of my body, made my skin crisp and tense up, made me feel like a big bowl of uncomfortable. Shakily I gave him a thumbs up and a smile, glaring at Raziel as soon as is boss's attention drifted away. Standing next to it now,
Its here; I know that damn thing is still here the angels voice strained in frustration- something far away, garbled, swimming in echoes and muted through glass, but I could hear it as I groggily woke up. My body remained in a crunch, at the extreme angle I was shot out at, butt-first, wedged in something solid. I opened my eyes to a word of wet, dark earth, but not Hell. Confused, I tried to turn over and get my bearings, finding myself completely encased in dirt like I was buried and laid to rest.
So, were NOT giving them piece of mind? Are you saying Ill be going back on my guarantee here, Raziel? A different voice, deeper- the priest, probably. Guarantee? The ground softly knocked, louder then the conversation, in my general direction before there was an annoyed grumble.
Im not saying that. But I wouldnt be surprised if weve got to ma
The next two weeks went by uneventfully. I wasn't spoken to, I didn't speak to them. Things greatly relaxed between us all, I considered it a grace period; it gave me time to really take in my surroundings, to know the people I was 'guarding', to develop a sense of myself all over again.
The house was perched on lifts, stilts, almost, on the edge of the Juan Julio Cemetery. I had no idea who Juan Julio was, but he was apparently important enough to get his own cemetery named after him, that lucky dog. The Faegels, my landlords so to speak, lived in a practically uninhabited area- there was the cemetery, an abandoned house much farther down the road, and something like a fishing dock farther then that. That was the limit of my vision. I habituated a brown house, the very back end of the second level touched regular ground, with the basement acting as the bottom level, while the front was held up by thick supports. The garage was partially into the ground as well, a d
"You've .you're joking, right?" I said breathlessly, trying to look around the new pike head, trying to reach his eyes. "I--- I'm sorry for what happened, I feel terrible that it I mean " I backpedaled, forgetting my vocal stance with him once again, trying to make sense.
"Leave." He said coldly, walking slowly towards me, weapon outstretched "This is not a request, it's not a joke, and it's not a ploy. I don't want you hiding in the yard, I don't want you thinking everything's fine, I just want you to get the hell out of my home, NOW!" Gauzier chuckled, leaning against the wall. Something was wrong here, this was not all his decision; it couldn't be. The guy I knew, who I'd spent nearly four months with, this wasn't him.
"You should be so thankful you can leave at all." Gauzier said lightheartedly, "If it was my decision, I would've seshimi'd you the moment I got back here, cut into thousands of little pieces. That's the