March 2, 2007

  • From Hell to Hell: Chapters 9 & 10

    Aisha02

    Well, finally finished Chapter 10, and so you all get two more chapters. Enjoy.


    Chapter Nine: Sara's Chapter

    Ivan sighed and leaned harder against the windowsill. He had so many thoughts going through his head, he didn’t know which one to chase first. He was concerned for his love, who was foremost in his mind, but was also upset because Azazel felt the same way for another.

    Ivan looked up at the clear, starry sky. “I wonder what he’s doing, right now. Is he looking up at the stars, like I am?”

    When the door to his room opened, Ivan wasn’t surprised in the least. “Master Michael wants to know why you are sitting on your ass rather than out searching for him.”

    Ivan glanced at the angel before turning back to the sky. “I’m thinking about very important matters,” he replied. “I was just about to leave.” He climbed through the window onto his balcony and, without another word, flew off.

    - -

    The waterfall roared louder in the stillness of night, which was perfectly fine for the tired blonde. He looked around his cave, for the third time, and continued to brush his hair. He had bathed in the lake, which was wonderfully relaxing.

    He was free, as free as he could get anyway, and alone. Not a person was around to bother him. Unfortunately, though the Azazel of old would have welcomed the aloofness, this Azazel craved companionship.

    “When I get back to Hell, I’m giving Kaggren a piece of my mind,” he muttered with a determined nod. “And Vlad too,” he added as an after thought.

    Shouts in the distance startled him, and Azazel whirled toward the noise. He could see a group of torches flickering on shore. “Morons,” he snorted. “They could wake a deaf man. How stealthy do they think they are?”

    “One can never tell with the lower angels.”

    This voice was closer to his ear. Azazel knew the voice in a second, though. “Ivan!” he almost shrieked. “What are you- How did you-?!”

    Behind him, the brunette chuckled. “I sit here quite frequently. There’s an entrance way at the end of this tunnel.”

    Tunnel? When did it become a tunnel? Azazel looked at him, panic clearly written on his features. Ivan, however, smiled brightly. “I just came to take you home,” he said. “We’ll get you some new robes and-”

    “No. Leave me alone!”

    “Azazel, please.”

    “No!” Azazel exclaimed, reaching for a pouch on his belt. He pulled a small red sphere from the pouch and brought it to his lips. “I’m not going anywhere with you, or anyone else for that matter!”

    “It will only be until we release you from his hold. Then you can go wherever you please.” Ivan grabbed his wrist, forcing Azazel to drop the small bomb he held. “What will it hurt?”

    Azazel’s attention wasn’t on him, however. It was on the ball, which had landed on the floor. Ivan had enough time to look down before the area flooded with light and they were both thrown against the wall.

    Azazel took the brunt of the explosion, having no wings to protect himself with. He shielded his head from the crumbling rock and debris, and, choking on dust, looked around to see if Ivan was alright.

    Ivan was fine enough to knock him unconscious.

    - -

    By the time he woke up, Azazel was strapped to a table. Michael watched with interest as the blonde fought to clear his vision. The arch angel glanced at Ivan, who was vigorously mixing herbs in a bowl. “Hurry up,” Michael said. “He’s waking up.”

    “Oh,” Ivan made a tiny sound in the back of his throat before moving next to Azazel. “I wish you had stayed asleep. It would be so much easier.”

    “If you don’t let me go,” Azazel growled, glaring at them both, “I’m going to make you wish you had never existed.”

    Ivan set the bowl down near Azazel’s head and ran his hand down the blonde’s face. “But love, you’ll feel better when we’re done. Though, I’m afraid releasing you from a spell is a bit painful.”

    “I’m not under a spell! Damn it, Ivan, let me GO!”

    Ivan looked taken aback. “Azazel, please calm down.”

    “Like hell I’m going to calm down!” Azazel shrieked, fighting against his bonds. “Ivan, I swear, I’ll-”

    Michael had had enough. He grabbed Azazel’s head with one hand and held his mouth open with the other. “Pour it down his throat,” he said. “I want this over with.”

    Ivan nodded and poured the contents of the bowl into Azazel’s mouth. After a few seconds of sputtering, Azazel swallowed and glared at them both. “See?” he asked. “I’m not un…der a…”

    The room started spinning uncontrollably, so Azazel shut his eyes tightly. Perhaps, he mused to himself, the room wasn’t spinning after all. Maybe the whole world had stopped spinning and he, himself, was twirling on an axis. Either way, he desperately wanted to throw up.

    “Michael, sir, he doesn’t look too well…”

    Michael and Ivan watched as Azazel arched and shuddered, as if his muscles were under no control. Finally, after an eternity, he stilled. Ivan moved to lean over him, but Michael held his arm in front of the curious angel. “He is free,” he said simply, before exiting the room.

    Ivan had his doubts, so he continued to stare down at Azazel’s face. When those pale lids snapped open, revealing the insane silver eyes, Ivan was so surprised, he stumbled backward.

    The maniacal laughter wafting toward him was a larger surprise still.


    Chapter Ten: Crystal's (my) Chapter

    He kept hearing funny voices in his head, voices that made him burst out in random fits of laughter. They kept shouting that he was guilty, and that alone made him burst our even more. Guilty? Dare they even try to condemn him, the one who Fallen already and would most likely again? He, the scapegoat of this divine place and favorite of Michael's toys? Of course he was guilty! Guilty of every damnable thing that happened.

    At least in Hell, he found that even if nothing was trustworthy, at least there were definite rules. Although they were silent , not written in any book, they were there and followed like they were the ultimate truth. This place, he had learned the hard way, that there were no such set of rules. Only contradictions that surrounded the ones given.

    “Maybe Lucifer was right,” Azazel cackled. “It is better to rule then to serve!”

    Ivan watched in horror as Azazel continued to mutter blasphemies, only to cackle after each utterance of them. What was it that Michael had him make? What was going on with the once passive and fearful being that he felt he was growing closer and closer to? It wasn't the first time that he felt like a pawn, especially after falling into Michael's high command.

    “Azazel,” Ivan whispered softly, daring to creep towards the table. “Azazel, what's wrong?”

    “I'm guilty,” Azazel laughed, voice growing frantic and shrill. “I'm guilty! Guilty, guilty, guilty!”

    Looking into the wild silver eyes, Ivan had never feared a Wingless Angel until that moment. He had learned that they were very dangerous and it was now that he was learning that the stories were true. Magically enhanced, more prone to insanity, and unpredictable. Azazel was going through all of them at the moment. That scarred him, the fact that Vlad was able to accept Azazel no matter what. But would he be able to?

    “Michael,” Ivan said, watching the Arch Angel leave the room. “What are we doing? Why is he unstable...”

    “It's for my cause,” Michael replied, siting. “Keep an eye on him and inform me if and when his condition changes.”

    Bowing, Ivan turned back to the cackling Azazel, pity in his eyes.

    *Insert some sort of AWESOME scene separator here*

    “Damn it,” Vlad growled, slamming his fists on the wall. There was nothing that he could do at the moment, seeing as there was a block on Azazel's mind and he, therefore, couldn't speak to him.

    Flopping on the bed, he groaned into the pillows, a headache forming from the stress. Michael had thought this through, and rather well. Azazel no longer was sane, that was for sure, and that made him worry even more. Would he be able to heal him again after this or would he forever be striving for the progress that he was finally able to gain? Taking in a deep breath, Vlad put his arm over his eyes, trying in vain to keep the headache at bay.

    “Why you,” he sighed. “Why do they want you?”

    *Insert some sort of AWESOME scene separator here*

    “Master,” Ivan said, walking into the brightly lit room where Michael was occupying. “He's quieted down and sleeping.”

    “Good,” Michael smiled. “Then that means that the real Azazel is going to show himself soon. You have done very well, Ivan. Soon, it will be time for your reward.”

    “My reward,” Ivan said in a surprised tone. “I don't understand...”

    “You will soon enough,” Michael said, fiddling with some of his loose feathers. “You will see.”

    Able to do nothing more then nod, Ivan kept his gave on the soft brown carpet while he tried to figure out exactly what was going on. He hated being used, however, that was what it felt like. That Michael was just using him for nothing more then to get Azazel to Heaven and nothing more. Then there was talk about a reward, although he had a bad feeling about the while situation.

    “Ivan,” Michael said, lifting the brown haired Angel's chin so his eyes could meet the eyes of his subordinate. “Don't fear anything. I will show you that it will work out in the end.”

    “Yes Master,” Ivan replied softly, allowing his fears to melt away.

    *Insert some sort of AWESOME scene separator here*

    Alone. Just like you were always meant to be. Alone, unloved, and trained to kill. Wait. Was that right? It didn't sound right. A face flashed before his mind, but before he could get a firm grasp of exactly who it was, it faded into the blackness once again. A name was on the tip of his tounge, but his mind was too numb and cluttered to really think about exactly who's name was stuck in his mouth, and who the face before him was to him or even if th e name and face were meant to go together or be separate.

    He didn't know that he was asleep until he woke up to Ivan's worried face. Blinking away the haze, but not really being able to, Azazel could only look up at his captor with dulling sliver eyes, that seemed to be slowly slipping into a foggy color. Clouded over with magic and bewilderment.

    Sighing, Ivan stared into the dulling eyes that he had admired from afar. He was rather saddened that they were in face, dulling and not staying their vibrant silver that he had learned to love. Just watching over the extremely passive face that stared up at him with almost unmoving eyes, impossible to read because of how dazed and glazed over with whatever drug he gave him.

    “I'm sorry,” Ivan whispered, stroking Azazel's hair. “But orders are orders, and I don't know what's going on. Did I do the right thing, Azazel? Or am I just a screw up like everyone else?”

    Azazel just stared up at the other, trying to figure out if this was the face that kept going through his mind. But it didn't seem right, the hair was too light and the wings sure weren't ivory, but that was all the comparisons he could make. But this one looked sincere and lost, much like himself at the moment.

    “Any change in status,” Michael asked, entering the room.

    “None,” Ivan replied, snapping back to reality.

    “Good,” Michael smiled, watching Azazel's eyes focused on him. “Everything's going perfectly. You will definitely be rewarded for this, Ivan. You're loyalty will not be forgotten.”

    Bowing, Ivan let his eye s wander back to the captive, wondering exactly why Michael wanted him back and in such a state so badly.