The Damned Saint
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Excerpt:
Prolouge:
A demon, with burnt blonde
hair and midnight blue eyes, stood looking at the ark. He stood in what would
one day be called a suit. He was a being of knowledge and that allowed him
foresight. A lot of it. And he adored his suits already. The midnight green
shirt barely added any color to the black as a starless space suit. The tie
held a silver pin, of his broken symbol. He tilted his head, how anybody
thought God was all good had to be smoking better shit than he could get ahold
of in Hell. He turned when felt an angelic grace he hadn’t felt since before
the fall. Since The first thing
at God opening Hell and this demon felt a burning. He smelt acid. Sulphur. Him
and the others had crashed into the Sulphur pits created for hell. He crashed
into a Sulphur pit at terminal velocity. And burned. Not since he had stood in
front of this angel and told him he wasn’t fighting the war. Not since
the very moment his existence became literally Hell, both on Earth and below.
“Raziel,” he drawled out, the name tasting bittersweet on his tongue. “Come to
finally smite me?”
Raziel
came to his side, letting his fingers brush against Vapula’s. One would think
he was another demon, but this being was all angel. Even if he didn’t look it.
He was thin, tall, and walked with a swagger. He wore skin tight torn black
jeans, leather boots, a black tee, and a black leather jacket. He held a smirk
on his lips, his hair was long and dark brown, with a nice tight beard to
match. His eyes at first glance was nothing to exciting, brown. But when one
looked it was like honey coffee. The deepest of browns. Coffee that had honey
and chocolate mixed into it, with a bit of cream to lighten the deep strong
richness of the black. “Nah, Vapula, decided heaven is a bag full of dicks. I
just haven’t done anything Fall worthy. And I am supposed to oversee putting up
the promise not to do this shite again.”
Vapula
should have guessed the man would choose what would become a Scottish accent He
flicked his eyes towards Raziel but still looked out at the ark and Noah. “That
used to be enough in the old days,” Vaupla responded, but didn’t move as he
watched the children. “Is it rude of me to call our creator a monstrous bitch?
And what are you putting up?”
“And
you wonder why you fell.” Raziel smirked, “My colors. She is calling it a
Rainbow.”
“I
don’t wonder about anything, I know exactly why I fell, Raziel. I was born in
holy water but forged in the fires of hell. A rainbow?
Really? Is that the color you finally decided on?”
“You
very well know I couldn’t choose one.” He clapped his hands to show a mini
rainbow. “One day it will symbolize more than this promise not to drown anybody
again. One day it will be a sign of solidarity. It will be a sign of love and
pride. I may dress in black, but I adore the colors, they make up life. The
virtues, and the sins.” He sent the rainbow back into non-existence and turned
to Vaupla. “And why did you fall?” Nobody ever answered him, Heaven kept no
record, and even the being of secrets he was, he didn’t know why this being of
knowledge, his best friend, his everything, had fallen.
“Ask
another time, Darling,” Vapula drawled and turned away. “Now, I got work to do,
and don’t you have some humans to drown?” With that Vapula sunk into the ground
as the memories of their friendship and more assaulted him. Especially, when it wasn’t something, he
couldn’t have any longer. All because he had stabbed Michael to save Samuel.
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