March 2, 2007

• From Hell to Hell, chapters 7 & 8

  

  Here are the next two chapters of the cowrite. Enjoy? I don't know. A little slow since I have other projects I'm working on. Joy of joys.

  
  Chapter Seven: Sara's chapter

  “Azazel, I’m glad to see you up and well.”

  Azazel glared at Michael for all he was worth. “Yes, I’m well,” he replied, sarcastically. “Glorious even. It’s always been a dream of mine to wake up in a strange bed.”

  “It can’t be strange. You practically lived in here for most of your afterlife.”

  Azazel looked around him. “My old room… You haven’t changed anything.”

  “Of course not,” Michael said with a smile. “I always knew you would come back.”

  “Really, because I was under the impression once I fell, I wasn’t to return.”

  “Nonsense. We all know you were falsely accused. It was a twisted plan created by your sister and her friend.”

  Azazel knew this, of course. He had tried, time and again, to make the others see. Now, however, he stared hard at Michael. “Come again?”

  Michael bent so he was face to face with the blonde. “You’re. Innocent.”

  “Which is why I had to bring you here,” Ivan spoke up. Azazel turned to him, confusion in his silver eyes. “I’m sorry to have tricked you,” Ivan continued. “We had to remove you from that horrible place.”

  “You mean my home?”

  Ivan nodded sadly. “It isn’t as peaceful as you believe. Your sister’s partner was…” he trailed off, hoping Azazel would fill in the blank.

  Confusion quickly gave way to anger. “How dare you?!” Azazel shrieked, hopping off the bed and glaring at both angels. “I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, Michael, but you leave Vlad and me out of it!” The blonde turned in a flurry and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

  Ivan glanced at Michael. “Do you suppose he’ll help us? The fallen has a strong hold on him.”

  Michael nodded. “He certainly does. Azazel’s inability to sense it proves this. We have to help him quickly, for his sake, and for the sake of Heaven.”

  “How long until Kaggren decides to attack?”

  “With Kaggren, who can tell?”

  - -

  He had forgotten how tranquil Heaven was. The field he was in looked almost like a replica of his own. Golden water poured over a cliff into a large lake. Rainbow fish leaped and danced with each other around snowy white swans. The grass was the pure green from his memories, which were growing clearer with every moment. Azazel dove into the pool, emerging only when he was at the waterfall’s base. Behind the curtain of water sat the cave from his earlier years.

  With little effort, he climbed onto the slippery rocks and sat down, folding his legs beneath his robes. “This is pathetic,” he muttered. “I’ve been here for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and I already miss the dank corridors of Hell.”

  A cygnet swam close to him and stared through the barrier of gold with vibrant blue eyes. It trumpeted once, in greeting, before it tried to swim toward him. Without thinking, Azazel grabbed the bird before it could be pushed underwater and set it on the ground by his feet. The cygnet shook itself and stared up at him. It wasn’t threatened in any way; not even the parents seemed concerned, though they swam nearer to the waterfall.

  “As if I belong here,” Azazel whispered, ruffling the downy gray feathers. None of the creatures from Hell were so cheerful or trusting. In fact, more than once, Vlad had told Azazel to avoid them, lest he was harmed.

  “What am I going to do?” Azazel asked the swan. “I obviously can’t stay here. I have to get home. Vlad is going to be worried sick.”

  So what? a little voice in his mind asked. After all, had he not spent the previous day, and night, worrying? It certainly wasn’t fair. Azazel shook his head. It wasn’t fair, but there must have been a good reason. Besides, he was sure Vlad was having a horrible time too.

  “No one can find me here, anyway,” he told himself. “Michael doesn’t know about this cave. I could stay here for a while until I can get back to earth.” He nodded. “Yes, I’ll stay here.”

  While he was musing, the cygnet gnawed on his finger. Azazel finally noticed and smiled cheerfully. “You can’t eat me,” he told the bird, pulling his hand away. “I’m too big.”

  - -

  Azazel looked at the shattered window and sighed. At this rate, he was going to fall again! It didn’t necessarily get cold at night, but the rocky floor of the cave was hard and uncomfortable. And he needed food. Killing an animal himself wasn’t something Azazel was ready for.

  Thankfully, he head learned a few things in Hell. Carefully, Azazel picked his way through the broken glass. He grabbed a blanket from one of the shelves before moving deeper into the store. Obviously, he couldn’t carry too much with him, there was the problem of getting it into the cave.

  When the blanket was full and the ends tightly secured around his supplies, he ripped two shelves off a case. It was a stupid idea, but desperation and logic never went hand in hand. Besides, all he needed were a few sturdy dowel rods and the food would float, yet remain dry.

  Nodding to himself, Azazel skittered through the window again and glided silently down the cobblestone street.

  - -

  Alright, not only had he built an interesting raft, which worked amazingly well, he now had a homemade shelf for his supplies. Azazel smiled; this was better than he had imagined. He lay down on the blanket and stared at the ceiling. Only one thing was truly missing, but he had been on missions alone before. Things would turn out okay.

  
  Chapter Eight: Crystal's (my) Chapter

  “You will not get away with this,” Kaggren yelled, watching the image fade from his view. “And they called us traitors!”

  “You all are,” Michael replied with a sneer. “Hence you were cast down here in these firey bowels. No one will believe you now. You're revenge will take place very soon, and then, you and all your followers will be dead and gone. And us in Heaven will have nothing else to worry about.”

  “Have you gone insane,” Kaggren yelled.

  Michael smiled. “Perhaps. But then again, sanity has always been a rare thing in war.”

  With that, the image disappeared, leaving Kaggren bathed in darkness, holding his head in one of his hands. They wanted Azazel back, but for what? Maybe he shouldn't have sent Vlad out with Ivan still around. Maybe...this was so screwed up. Sighing again, he knew that with Michael's plan in action, the only thing he could hope to do was go along for it for now. Perhaps it would work out in the end. He could only hope and play along since it has already begun.

  “Master,” a small voice asked, peering into the darkened room, allowing a stream of dim torch light to invade the darkness. “Master...is there something wrong?”

  “Get the troops ready, Scorn,” Kaggren said, standing up. “We have to get back one of our own.”

  Bowing, the young Fallen of the Flame exited to do his master's bidding, as Kaggren watched his world become darkened once again. There was no escape from this hole that he found himself in, the one that Michael had so expertly dug for him.

  *Insert some sort of AWESOME scene separator here*

  “What do you mean, gone,” Vlad asked, narrowing his eyes in anger.

  “I...I...I,” the Wyvern replied, shaking in flight. “I was informed by Kaggren that...”

  “That what,” Vlad growled.

  “Azazel is missing....and so...is...Ivan...,” the Wyvern replied, voice growing dim.

  Vlad's eyes flashed anger as he stared the poor little Wyvern down. Where did Azazel go, and did Ivan take him or did the Angel leave of his own accord? The questions started to burn in his head, fueling to the rage that he was already feeling for the news that his lover was missing and it seemed that no one had been able to find him. However, he had a sinking feeling about this whole situation and the involvement of Azazel. Ivan had been showing interest, sure. However, his mind started tossing out very plausible ideas as to Azazel's disappearance and none of them pleased him in the least.

  “Tell Kaggren that this will wait until this mess is cleaned up,” Vlad said, turning away and spreading his wings into the night. The moon left his wings gleaming a dull silver with hints of a dull red, much like his wings looked like while he was still one of Heaven's Brood. Hair flowing behind him, shining in the dull light, made him look like an Angel who had just Fallen, and had of yet to witness the horrors of the plane that he was going to be sentenced to eternity to. “I will not finish this until I have this whole situation cleared up.”

  “But, Vlad,” the Wyvern said, watching as Vlad leapt into the air. “Master Kaggren won't like this...”

  “Kaggren doesn't like a lot of things that I do,” Vlad replied, giving one down burst of his wings and flew off into the night.

  Bowing, even though he was sure that Vlad wouldn't notice him, the Wyvern flew off, to tell Kaggren the bad news and get yelled at even more.

  *Insert some sort of AWESOME scene separator here*

  Vlad ripped through the house, searching for any sort of sign that Azazel was anywhere and Kaggren's sources were wrong, which they rarely ever were. He found no sign of the two that he had left behind only two days ago. What in the world was Azazel thinking? Everything was outlined in the packet. Once he infiltrated the target, he was going to be able to come back, and take Azazel with him to finish up the job, since they were dealing with a rather powerful adversary. At least he found this out before he had most of the work done, or else he would have been in a deeper hole.

  However, mission objectives on the side, he couldn't help but worry about the well being of Azazel, or even where he was. Upon entering the room where Ivan was staying, he could only stare at the yellow object that lay on the small dresser in horror. The bastard never gave Azazel the packet. Even more, there was a note inside addressed to him, saying that he took Azazel back to Michael so that he could be cleansed of whatever impurities that he apparently cast.

  “I cast nothing those idiots,” Vlad growled. “Not all of us stoop to such levels...”

  Throwing the paper away from him, he flopped on the bed, facing the ceiling, and just stared at it for a moment. That was the true reason that Ivan was there. To get in and come out with Azazel and drag the poor boy back to Heaven, which in some cases, would be worse then anything he had seen in Hell thus far.

  “They threw you away and I caught you,” Vlad muttered, sitting up. “They have no right whatsoever to try to take back what was so willingly cast away.”

  Looking around, he took in a deep breath, stood up, and opened a portal to Hell, and Kaggren's throne room, ready not only for a scolding, but also, perhaps a briefing on what their next plan of action against this was going to be.

  *Insert some sort of AWESOME scene separator here*

  “This is very serious,” Kaggren said, reading over the note. “Not only is Michael trying to start a war with me as the scapegoat, but trying to get Azazel back on their side.”

  “They cast him down,” Vlad yelled. “He had done almost nothing against his own will except for the few things that he must to do to prove his loyalty to you by accepting little missions of taking out rebellions of the other Fallen to stop an all out war. They said we put a spell on him! What in the world would make them think that we would ever do such a thing! We're not Demons...”

  Raising a hand, Kaggren stared at him with whirling icy blue eyes to show that he was trying to figure a way out of this mess. “The only reason I can see is that they needed a reason for us to attack, and they picked a very good target.”

  “What are we going to do to get him back,” Vlad asked, staring his Leader down.

  “Nothing for now,” Kaggren replied. “If you never put a spell on Azazel, which I know you didn't, nothing is going to happen. Their magic will be ineffective. However, if they try physical torture again...he may break beyond repair. We must wait to attack, no matter how much it tears you apart or how close to the breaking point Azazel comes, we must wait for the right moment.”

  Vlad was stunned. He would have to wait that long? Then...what if Azazel breaks? What if he thinks that he didn't care anymore? What if...what if...

  “Vlad,” Kaggren asked, now worried about his best fighter, trainer, and all around advisor. “Don't do anything rash. I'm sure that he will be fine.”

  “I can't have him broken like that,” Vlad yelled. “He's finally smiling again! You know how long it's taken for that...”

  Nodding, there was nothing more that Kaggren could say that would put Vlad's fears to rest. If he understood one thing, it was that Vlad truly cared for Azazel, and that was something rare to find in the realm that he found himself watching over. Not only that, but these were serious allegations that were being brought upon him and those under him, and he didn't like them one bit.

  “He'll be fine,” Kaggren sighed, trying to reassure himself as well. “We all will be...”

  • 5:50 pm
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