Sin

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A fallen angel, a greater demon, an introduction of sorts.
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CHAPTER ONE

"Estielle?..." said a cool, calming voice, "Estielle... You need to wake up."

She groaned, prying her eyes open against the light.... and then she remembered the pain.... Searing white agony down each side of her back, from her shoulder to her hip. Trembling with agony, she looked down, seeing light grey feathers.... her feathers....

"I'm sorry child," said the voice.

She looked up, making eye contact with the Archangel, "Vlad..." She croaked, "Please.....kill me-"

"Now now, we can't have that," he replied with a faint smile.

She hated him, she had always hated him, he was the Archangel of knowledge, all knowing, all powerful and all too full of himself. He had made her life misery from the moment she awoke in the White halls, she was different from the others, light grey feathers, black hair and eyes that shone like sapphires, she looked nothing like the other angels. Even Vlad as an Archangel had simple black feathers and blonde hair with dark brown eyes, all lesser angels had white feathers, this made her unique, but unique isn't always a good thing....

"For your sin of lust, you are sentenced-"

"You did this!" Estielle cut him off.

"... You are sentenced to exile," Vlad finished, barely pausing after her outburst.

Grabbing her by the hair, Vlad dragged the angel to a gaping hole in the floor, he forced her to her knees before tearing her cloak from her body. Estielle shuddered with shock at the sudden sensation of cold air on the wounds down her back. Now the tears came... not from the shame of her nudity, not from the pain of her wounds, but simply the injustice. She had served with faith for six hundred years, only to have her sanctity taken from her by a violent Archangel.... the same Archangel now holding a glowing white hot brand, shaped like a heart.

She couldn't help but flinch as he grabbed her hair, yanking her head back the brand pressed into her right cheek, she screeched, the smell of burning flesh permeating the air. It was only moments, but for Estielle, it may have been hours before the brand was removed, her eye swelled shut almost immediately, her jaw aching, she couldn't hear properly, still imagining the sound of her sizzling flesh.

"May god have mercy on your soul."

And with a sharp push, she tumbled into the hole, she glimpsed her destination, Earth.... Better than Hell... her eyes drifted closed. The fall from heaven isn't a short drop from the top of the highest clouds, it's a fall through an alternate dimension, that can take many hours to reach, and that's in a controlled fall, having her wings torn from her body and thrown tumbling into the abyss,

"God... Please let me die..."

Darren growled in frustration, he didn't understand what was so hard to understand...

"If you keep this up, you're going to attract attention," he said calmly.

"From who exactly?" a deep voice replied.

"The Archangels you fucking imbecile," Darren sighed, "if you find a sinner and take his soul so be it, but leading innocent humans into sin in order to harvest them, will attract the attention of the Archangels, and I DO NOT WANT ANOTHER WAR!"

"Yes my lord," the voice said, "I understand."

"Do you?" Darren asked sarcastically.

The shadow in the back of his mind had already faded, Why are the most powerful demons also the most god damn stupid?

With a sigh, Darren stood up, taking in his surroundings. His leather backed chair sitting by the window, he had a wide view of his city from his penthouse office, lightning cracked in the distance, lighting up the room, he briefly saw the charts on the walls, detailing his economic exploits, the fine painting of his late father handing above the fireplace. With a sigh, Darren grabbed his keys from the desk, it was late and he needed a drink.

The problem of soul harvesting was a complicated one, souls were valuable to demons, they could give power if eaten, gifts in the underworld if given and forgiveness if released. This makes soul harvesting a touchy subject, demons around the world are driven by their desires until either killed, driven from the earth, or accepted into heaven, however the latter has only happened seldom over the last thousand years, Angels on the other hand exist to serve God, who condemns the desires of demons. After the last war, both sides had taken heavy casualties, but ultimately, the demons had lost and it was Darren's job to preserve the balance and prevent the next holy war.

That's what lead to his little chat with Droth, Fucking idiot demon... stepping into the elevator he couldn't help but sigh and rub his temples as he made his way to the ground floor. He ignored the polite nods in the main foyer from the staff as he made his way outside, his black Rolls Royce was parked in its usual spot, just outside the front entrance, in the centre of the covered drive through. Hitting the button on the remote, he heard the familiar click of the locks release and climbing into the seat he finally allowed himself to relax.

The engine started with a rumble he pulled away, slowing to allow a truck to pass, he listened for a moment as the rain finally hit,

"Even heaven is taking a piss on me right now," he moaned to himself.

CRASH!

The car bounced, all the airbags blew at once, smashing Darren in the head and pinning him into his seat. He sat in stunned silence for a moment before the rage kicked in, twisting in his seat he kicked the door, hard, tearing it free of the hinges and flying across the street. Darren pulled himself free from the wreckage, he was covered in white dust, looking around quickly, there was nobody in the immediate vicinity, but as he turned, the receptionist from the hotel quickly ran out to see what happened.

"Oh my god what happened!?" Shrieked a small blonde haired woman.

Darren ignored her, turning to look at his car, he spotted it, Shit.... There was a woman, it appeared that she had thrown herself from the hotel, she'd landed on his bonnet. The woman was pale, with black hair, stripped naked and had an aroma of burnt flesh about her. Darren reached out to touch her face, he actually felt a small pang of sadness, How could someone so beautiful end up like this?He lightly brushed her hair aside to better see her face, frowning he spotted the brand on her cheek.

"No...." He whispered.

The woman's eyes shot open, like two great sapphires that bored into his very soul, she twitched,

"Please... Don't..." she slurred, before vomiting up a large quantity of blood and her eyes drooping closed again.

Darren quickly turned back to the receptionist,

"Helicopter now!" he yelled.

"But-"

"NOW!"

The woman quickly scurried away, hitting a button in her pocket, Darren could hear the emergency alarm going off inside the hotel. With a sigh, he turned back to the woman, grabbing the edges of the twisted metal, he slowly pulled them out, widening the gaps around the beautiful woman so he could lift her out without injuring her.... God I need a drink....

The helicopter arrived in minutes, Darren helped load the woman onto a stretcher, before climbing in beside the paramedic,

"Take us to my home, I have a private clinic."

"Sir," confirmed the pilot.

Darren just rolled his eyes, the war was over, he was just a humble businessman now. Twenty minutes later Darren had transferred the woman onto a large comfortable bed, his personal physician was attending to the woman.

"Doesn't seem to have any broken bones," Doctor Grey said, holding up a set of x-rays, "but she's bleeding internally, I'm not sure how to treat this kind of wound on a demon, let alone and angel."

"Our anatomy isn't all that different from humans," sighed Darren.

"Still, I don't have the equipment for surgery here and I have no idea how she would react to anaesthetic."

"So what do you propose, Doctor?."

"We give her transfusions, keep her alive, let her heal on her own."

Darren sighed, turning to the unconscious woman on the bed, Why the fuck do I even care?

"Do it..."

CHAPTER TWO

"Hush now child", said a cold voice, "It's for the betterment of knowledge."

Estielle cried out, trying to shove him away, she wouldn't let him touch her.... not this time.... The Archangel of Knowledge grabbed her hands, pushing them to her sides, pinning her down, she struggled against his strength, no god please, not again...

"NO!" she screamed.

Finding strength, she ripped her hand free, backhanding him with blind fury.

"Fuck, shit, stop already I'm sorry!" said a strange voice.

Estielle took a moment, looking around, she didn't recognise where she was. She was laying in a large soft bed, there was a bag of blood with a hose attached to her arm, grimacing she grabbed the hose, ripping it free and hurling it across the room with a crash. Quickly rolling off the bed she tried to escape, but her legs refused to work properly and she collapsed, searing pain, from her groin, up her back and deep in the middle of her chest, why God couldn't you let me die?

She heard something behind her, rolling over she saw the stranger, she reached around to grab something, her hand touched something wooden, without thinking she hurled an entire side table at him, the force would have been enough to destroy a human, but this being brought his arms up, the side table exploded into pieces, and now he stared at her, with bright red glowing eyes.

"STOP!" he roared.

It almost sounded like two voices, one a normal human, but a second voice, deeper, more menacing. She stared in shock, it slowly dawned on her that she was naked, pulling her knees to her chest and holding herself, she started sobbing uncontrollably.

Darren was in shock, he didn't know what to do, he could see she was terrified, but there was more... What happened to you?

He thought for a moment, before grabbing the blanket from the bed, he stood, approaching her slowly, he saw her suddenly stiffen and begin trembling as he came within reach.

"Here," he said softly.

Draping the blanket over her shoulder, he quickly stepped back again, she didn't look up, but pulled it tightly around herself and continuing to cry into her arms. Darren spotted motion, Doctor Grey was standing in the doorway looking worried,

"Hey... ahh... This is Doctor Grey," Darren said calmly, "She's here to help."

The woman peaked up from her blanket, Darren gasped, seeing her sapphire eyes... So much pain...

"Please...." she said, "Just let me die."

"I can't do that," said Doctor Grey.

"Please!" the woman cried.

"No!" yelled Darren.

He didn't know why he felt so strongly about this, she was a fallen angel, her soul would be worth millions if he sold it, the afterlife would be glorious if he passed it on... So why do I want to help her? FUCK!

"You're a demon aren't you?" the woman asked, her disgust made clear in her tone.

"... Your point?"

"Don't you hate my kind?"

Darren didn't know what to say, most demons did hate angels, even he, but now, face to face with one, without the war, something just told him the hate wasn't worth it.... God I need a drink.... With a sigh, Darren gestured to a closed door.

"There's a bathroom in there, please let Doctor Grey help you," he said stiffly.

The woman didn't respond, simply hiding her face in her arms again.

"Call me if you need anything," he said, turning and walking out of the room.

Estielle sat for a while, massaging her legs, trying to get them to work, she needed to escape this place, she couldn't go through her torment again... she would die first...

"You need to rest," said Doctor Grey.

"Why is a human working for a demon?" Estielle snapped back.

Doctor Grey was silent for a moment, "he's really not all that bad," she said, "once you get to know him."

"He's a demon, he's going to corrupt your soul and steal it."

"Actually," said Doctor Grey with a sigh, "he saved mine."

"You lie," hissed Estielle, "He's a demon, a monster, a corrupt thing of darkness that-"

"No!" Snapped Doctor Grey.

Estielle looked up, looking into her eyes, Doctor Grey was in her thirties, short reddish, brown hair, average height and just a little bit curvy, but there was a kindness in her eyes and a gaze that told you she cared, even as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"When I was a teenager, I was studying medicine, times were hard and I used to dance for money," Doctor Grey paused for a moment to collect herself, "one day a man came in, offered me a huge amount of money in order for me to meet him in private... I was so stupid... they drugged me, beat me, tried to corrupt my soul, trying to make me give into lust."

Estielle touched her cheek, feeling wetness from her own tears.

"I was going to give in," she continued, "I wanted the pain to stop... then... he came," her lips curled with a small smile, "it was purely by accident, he was there on other business when he smelled my blood... he... he burned down the building I was kept in, with my tormentors still inside, he paid for my medical bills, my therapy, my education and even gave me somewhere to live."

Doctor Grey turned, sitting on the end of the bed, staring straight ahead,

"The only thing he's ever asked of me was that I become his personal physician, I've been working for him for ten years and he's been nothing less than a perfect gentleman... Even if he does have a temper," she smiled, "he's like a father to me."

"Who is he?" asked Estielle.

"His name is Darren Nestor-"

"No... who is he really?

Doctor Grey shifted uncomfortably for a moment, "He's the sin of lust, Lord Asmodeus."

CHAPTER THREE

"Fuck fuck fuck Fucking FUCK!" Darren cursed as he sipped his scotch, "why don't I just kill her and take her soul? I don't fucking know! Of course that would be the easiest solution, hell, if some fucking demon gets a hold of her, me killing her would be a fucking mercy!"

Darren for all his power and wisdom, couldn't help but yell and rage at himself while pacing around his room. Hurling his glass at the wall, he was unsatisfied even as the glass obliterated into the tiniest of shards. He threw himself back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, reaching out he managed to feel for the bottle of scotch he'd set out and bringing it to his lips he chugged down half the bottle.

"She's nothing like the angels I remember, they were all stoic, blonde dip-shits," he took another swig, "But those eyes... and her hair... fuck..."

Darren dropped the bottle with a dull thunk on the floor, before letting the alcohol take him. An annoying buzzing woke him, he sat up groggily, how much did I fucking drink? He looked up, the buzzing was his door alarm, nobody comes in his private quarters so he had an alarm installed so people could wake him. With a groan he climbed to his feet, ripping the door open,

"What?" he growled.

"You smell awful," said Doctor Grey.

"Sorry... I didn't-"

"It's fine," she cut him off, "we need to talk about Estielle."

Darren raised an eyebrow, Who the fuck?... The angel...

"Is she OK?" he asked, annoyed with himself for the concern in his voice.

"She should be... she was attacked..." said the doctor, "she won't talk about it, but looking at her symptoms... I think she was raped."

Darren's eyes glowed, "When?"

"She didn't fall from the hotel Darren..."

"...I need a drink..."

Turning Darren walked back to the bottle on the floor, picking it up, it was quickly snatched from his hands. His eyes it up, growling he turned towards Doctor Grey,

"Give me the bottle Patricia," he growled.

"No..."

"GIVE ME THE-"

SLAP

Darren was shocked for a moment, his cheek stung, his ear rang and Patricia was scowling at him,

"As your physician I suggest you cut back on the drinking," she said calmly, "as your friend, you should take a shower before breakfast, you smell like shit."

Darren stepped forward, pulling her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "please forgive me."

"It'll be easier to forgive you after your shower," she said with a laugh, stepping out from his embrace, "I'll see if your guest will join us."

Darren felt better after his shower, standing in front of the mirror, he couldn't help but admire his physique, if he were human, people would assume he's a long distance runner, lean corded muscles, framing an average height body, his brown eyes and dark hair framing a square jaw, the only mark on his body, a scar across his left shoulder, a souvenir of the war two hundred years ago.

Estielle woke in a panic, taking a moment to remember where she was, the sun was already up and the light was filtering through the curtains, illuminating the room. With a groan, she sat up, turning towards the door she knew held a bathroom, she climbed to her feet but after taking a step she slipped, falling to the floor. The wounds on her body felt like they tore open again, her back searing, her groin aching, her heart broken, she couldn't help but cry out. She felt hands on her arms, she tried pulling away, shooting her eyes open, only to relax as she saw Patricia.

"I'll help you up," she said softly with a smile.

"Why are you helping me?" Estielle asked.

"I swore an oath," she said, "to help all those in need, I couldn't let you die any more than any other"

"What will he do to me?" Estielle choked back a sob.

"For now, nothing." Patricia sighed, "but after a shower, he'd like to meet you for breakfast."

Estielle frowned, but the thought of sustenance was appealing. Patricia helped her stagger into a white room, there was a mirror with a sink, a toilet and a strange clear cubicle with some knobs attached to the wall. Patricia caught her eye,

"It's a shower, those knobs turn on the water, the water comes out that spout at the top," she said.

Estielle hobbled forwards, opening the door and twisting one of the knobs, watching as the water began to flow, she held out a hand, catching the drops.

"It's cold," she said.

"Turn the other knob."

Estielle reached over, giving the other knob a twist, before checking the temperature again. After a few experimental twists, she found a temperature she liked, and slowly lowered herself to the floor, curling into a ball and letting the water pour on her body. Patricia couldn't help but pity her, those wounds on her back looked horrific, she must be in so much pain... Patricia grabbed a bottle of soap from under the sink, placing it beside Estielle.

"This is soap, rub it on your skin and wash it off with water, it will help you get clean," she said softly, "I'll find you some clothes when you get out."

"Thank you," Estielle said, without looking up.

"Take as long as you like, the hot water won't run out."

Patricia walked out, heading to her own room, she surely would have some track pants and a hoody for her to wear, something comfortable. She deposited the clothing on the bed, walking back into the shower with a thick towel. Estielle was standing now, she was leaning on the wall, her head down, back facing the door.

"I've brought you a towel," Patricia said.

Draping it over the cubicle door, she noticed the soap bottle was completely empty. Looking over Estielle, she felt a pang of anger towards whomever had hurt her, it was obvious the wounds ran deep, far deeper than she could imagine. What had happened to herself was monstrous, but what had happened to this fallen angel, Patricia could see her physique, slim, muscled, covered in hundreds of small scars, this woman was a warrior no doubt, and here she was, broken down to nothing, convinced her death is the only salvation.

She was pondering this when she noticed, Estielles eyes snap to hers, those sapphire orbs unable to contain such pure agony, Patricia gasped, stepping back.

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