Part 5: Acts

The portal opened onto a quiet road, pale trash bags drifting on the cold fall breeze, wrinkled newspapers tumbling about my feet, discarded remnants of society whirling before the tarnished sanctity of my childhood home. It was the only house lit up on that dark street, glowing windows peering out like baleful yellow eyes as I stood beside my new guardian.

"So did ya two get it on or what? I didn't get a chance to peep with Miss Goody-Goody trying to skewer me." The misshapen incubus asked as he landed on top of a parked car. After plopping down on the vehicle roof, the demon began kicking his mismatched legs absentmindedly.

I wished Laila managed to score a decent hit or at least silence that flapping tongue. "As a matter of fact, we didn't. Why don't you tell your boss I've got no interest dancing on her strings?"

"Hey now, what's with the attitude towards your newest buddy? S'matter of fact, we didn't properly acquainted. I'm Azael, a second-class incubus and first-rate debaucher. Nobody knows how to party like this guy. The ladies all give me glowing reviews, get what I'm saying?" His face contorted unpleasantly. A moment later, I realized the lust devil was trying to pout. Looked more like he was suffering from mild constipation than hurt feelings.

"Gee, good to know. Want to get five stars from me, Azazel? Make yourself useful and get lost."

Refusing to take the not-so-subtle hint, the incubus began picking his nose. "Don't get it twisted, it's Azael, not Azazel. Pops wasn't exactly known for his creativity in picking names." He flicked a booger towards me and sniffed.

"Yeah, whatever. Go find a bus to fly in front of. I don't need or even want any sort of help from a slimeball like you."

We hadn't even gotten to the front steps of my porch when I was seriously considering the best way to kill a demon. Azael had succeeded in pissing me off past the point of boiling rage. Now, cold murderous intent pumped through my icy heart.

I stomped up the stairs as the incubus rolled his eyes and lay back in midair, folding arms behind two broken horns. Doubtlessly there was a story behind that but I didn't care to ask. Lilith and her cronies were dead to me, buried far deeper than Vern's all too shallow grave.

Flinging open the front door, I stormed inside as the fumes of my bad mood trailed behind me. Hopefully, he'd get the message and make himself scarce. But fortune never seemed on my side.

My foul disposition was broken by the appearance of a middle-aged man wearing a frayed apron plastered with old barbecue stains. His balding head turned, metal tongs clacking in a callused grip. Eyes crinkled alongside a warm smile, weary face brightening upon spotting me.

"Bell! Didn't know if you'd be home tonight. I'm cooking something special for your mother, she's been begging me to fire up the grill."

I fought the sudden urge to hug my father tightly, to smell that familiar aftershave and the clinging scent of musty papers obtained from poring over old records and court transcripts. Apprehension quelled the need to embrace normalcy, wishing I could cling to a small fragment of my previous life.

Dad cocked an eyebrow. "Everything alright? What's with the sulking, did your coffee date go poorly?"

Azael phased through the door and yawned, picking sharp teeth with a grimy claw. My father glanced over at the new arrival. They shared a brief nod, acknowledging each other as I stared incredulously.

"You... you can see him?"

My father clacked the tongs again. "We crossed paths earlier. Azael came here in the hopes of finding you and I'm relieved he did. It's awfully dangerous to go off on your own these days."

Footsteps clambered up on the porch outside, muffled curses and grunting emerging behind the entrance. I backed away from the door as it opened. My mother stood before the threshold, nose wrinkled in disgust. Golden fluid glistened all over her blouse, oozing from a dead angel hanging limply in gilded arms, lifeless head bobbing as she hauled the carcass inside.

"You could have done this part, Kane. My outfit is completely ruined now." She grimaced, reptilian irises flicking back and forth between me and Azael.

"Angel's blood befits you, darling." Dad cooed, planting a kiss on her cheek. Flies crawled out of his mouth as he breathed, a faint humming emanating from my father's chest. I stepped back as indigo insects began swarming around his head until a dark cloud obscured everything from the neck up.

The woman who birthed me smiled slightly, forked tongue slithering over venomous lips, tasting the air. She leaned forward and pressed her face into the buzzing mass.

Azael witnessed the possessed couple share an intimate kiss, demonic eyes glowing with voyeuristic pleasure.

When my mother emerged, she was chewing. Several hairy legs protruded from her mouth, shiny abdomens faintly quivering. When the sickening crunching was finished, she swallowed with a contented sigh.

I put a hand over my nauseous mouth as my stomach gurgled in revulsion.

"Can never get enough of that appetite," Dad intoned, voice sounding like a high-pitched whine.

Glancing at me coldly, the snake-demon looked over at the incubus. "It was a no-go, huh?"

Azael shrugged his ragged wings. "Appears so. Our budding black dahlia needs a bit longer to blossom, I think."

"That's alright. We can always talk it out over a hot meal." Taking the divine corpse from his wife's hands, the fly husk dragged it into the kitchen, leaving a shiny metallic streak on the hardwood floor. He grunted, lifting the savaged body onto the butcher block.

Azael pulled a roll of paper towels out of thin air and tossed it to my mother. She accepted it gratefully, wiping the glistening gore from her clothes with a face.

"Who wants wings? Anybody?" Dad called out.

Mom pursed her lips, hissing thoughtfully. "I don't want any wings, feathers always stick in my throat. How about roasting a juicy thigh?"

"You got it. How about it, Bell? Any preference?" He poised a carving knife above the angel, where numerous flies were busily feasting on the open wounds.

Feeling violently ill, I shook my head. "Already had pizza, thanks. If it's alright with you, I'm just going to sit in my room and rethink my life for a bit."

I retreated upstairs as my father began slicing the meat up, whistling cheerily. Azael paused at the landing and rubbed his chin. "Think you could save me a breast, Mr. Lorelie? It's always been my favorite."

"Right or left?"

I didn't want to hear anymore. Fleeing into the fragile safety of my bedroom, I slammed the door and leaned against it, shutting my eyes as I slid down to the shag carpet, face buried in my knees. Madness. It was all insanity and I was in danger of losing my mind to this new reality.

Scarcely had I drew breath when Azael popped out through the wall, grotesque face peering around my room with interest.

"So this is where the magic happens."

"Please leave," I groaned into my legs. "Not in the mood."

"Fat chance of that, honeybuns. Me and you are joined at the hip for all eternity. Figuratively, of course. Unless you're up for a good-old-fashioned pity screw, might take your mind off things for an hour or two." He waggled his eyebrows.

I raised my head and narrowed my eyes into a hateful glower. Azael grinned, looking at me hopefully. "Got your attention now, eh? What do you say to a romp in the sack?"

"Not a chance in Hell, bucko. Now get out of my sight before you get a third horn broken."

"Third? But I only have two..." He frowned before realization dawned over his misshapen features. "Ah. She's got jokes."

"She's also got a mean streak a few miles wide. Didn't you hear me loud and clear? Get. Out."

"A real sourpuss, aren't you? I can see why wasshisface didn't want to do the nasty." He began rummaging through my underwear drawer, licking his lips as he drew out lacy lingerie. "Cute little number, that one. Did you ever model in these for Vern?"

Jumping to my feet, I lunged for the panties.

Azael shot up to the ceiling and snickered, dangling the fabric out of my reach. "Gonna have to try harder than that!"

He sniffed them, eyelids fluttering. "Mmm, if only it was laundry day."

Trembling with rage, I clenched my fists until I could feel fingernails piercing the flesh of my palms. This was all just a game to them. I was nothing more than a plaything for the powers that be. But I was done with the victim role. Time to shove those apocalyptic plans up their asses and go off-script.

Azael blinked as I turned away from him, focusing my wrath on the messy closet holding the contents of my previous life. "Doing a little spring cleaning?"

I ignored him, sifting through old yearbooks and childhood belongings. It was in here somewhere. I distinctly remembered putting it away but how long ago was that? Shoes flew around, half-empty acrylic nail kits, worn purses, broken hair ties, jigsaw puzzles, a pressed flower collection, mismatched socks and all littered the ground as I tore through my possessions.

Where was it? I could hardly think straight, barely able to concentrate on my search. Azael ducked as I sent several knitting needles whirling towards him, an unused gift from my grandma. He giggled as other makeshift missiles flew by, enjoying what he thought was a tantrum.

At last, I happened across the object I desired. Snatching the slender stick, I rummaged for a lighter and flicked the device until a flame crackled to life.

Let's see if he's all smiles after this.

Azael's demeanor crumbled once the smell of blessed incense began to fill the room. "Seriously? That's a dick move right there." He complained, covering his bulbous nose.

I waved the pungent vapor menacingly. "Didn't I say to piss off? You fucked around and found out, asshole."

The incubus wheezed, choking on the wisps floating towards him. He backed towards the window, scratching as an angry rash began to form on his exposed skin. Crimson eyes glared, saffron sulfur tears running down wart-covered cheeks. He wiped the reeking moisture away with my panties and grumbled.

"Lilith did mention you being a feisty one. We can play hardball too. Won't be long before you're singing a different tune."

Tossing the soiled garment at me, Azael blew a kiss before melting through the glass.

I stared at the rapidly burning incense, feeling anything but triumphant. The informal exorcism wouldn't last long. It was a hollow victory at best. My little act of rebellion only earned me a few minutes' peace.

Instantly, I reached for my phone. Then the recollection of losing it returned, crushing hopes of typing August a text. Just three words. That's all I wanted to send him. A bittersweet reminder that we could have had it all in another life.

Now we were fated to be apart, separated by distance, cursed with poor timing and infernal circumstances.

Thick smoke filled the room, giving me a migraine. Still, a tender skull was much more preferable than dealing with that insufferable incubus.

Holding my aching head, I racked my throbbing brain for answers, pondering possible solutions to the growing mountain of problems looming over me. Did I have any choices left? What could a powerless girl do against this prophesied doom?

I picked up an old notebook and began writing a letter, mechanical pencil drifting over the paper as I poured my heart out onto the lined page. Somehow, I always found it easier to express myself this way. Writing helped process my thoughts and emotions, especially when it was things I wanted to say to people I couldn't reach.

Will this find you, I wonder. Is your soul still lingering within the realms of existence? Did you even have one to begin with?

They say that animals have no place in heaven. That's the coldest thing imaginable to me, for what sort of paradise exists without your loyal companions? I wouldn't want to spend my days like that. The kind of people clustering around the pearly gates are ones I probably can't stand.

So I'd be stuck wandering those fluffy clouds all by my lonesome.

If pets have no souls, is it the same way with demons? Do they have immortal spirits or are they mere shadows of God's creation? Is this why Lucifer rebelled, refusing to serve humanity?

The pencil faltered in my grasp as I took a shaky breath.

I was never good at farewells. Also, it doesn't help that I was unable to resolve things between us. Can you forgive me?

Most of the incense had burned away by the time I finished writing. Ripping the paper free, I folded it up and kissed it. Gently pressing the letter against the smoldering ember, I watched my words catch fire, slowly turning to ash.

I held it until the heat began scorching my fingertips. Then I released it, soot scattering over my feet as the note drifted, consuming itself entirely before touching the carpet.

Astonishingly, my eyes were dry through the entire process. I had no more tears to shed. Instead of my usual abrasive self, a chilly emptiness pervaded my entire being. I knew what needed to be done. Only one path stood open, so I followed it down, winding deep into the brooding darkness.

One last chance to make things right.

When the last of the myrrh evaporated into the air, Azael swooped through the floor and sat on my dresser. He was wearing a gas mask which he tentatively removed.

"Got your little fun out of the way? Perfect timing, the bird just came off the grill."

He pulled out a hunk of steaming flesh and began stuffing his face. Grease dribbled from a pointy chin, spilling onto the bureau. I waited until he was done eating, observing calmly as the incubus licked his claws.

Smacking his lips, the demon sighed contently. "Daddy knows how to cook, that's for sure. The nipple was extra crispy and just how I like it."

Glancing over at me, Azael raised a bristly eyebrow at my appearance. I was dressed warmly, bundled up in a winter coat. Even had time to put my hair into a half-decent braid, a girl's gotta look her best. It was a special occasion, after all.

"Planning on going somewhere?" He asked, tapping claws on the furniture.

I nodded, clasping my hands. "As a matter of fact, yes. I've had some time to think and I realize there's no point in fighting something I cannot change."

Azael nodded, eyes squinting as my reversal was met with suspicion. "Come to your senses then? Better prove it. I'm not a believer in all talk and no action."

"Was hoping you'd say that. I've been all cooped up in this house for too long. Let's go somewhere private and do something scandalous." I bit my lip, half closing my eyes in what I hoped was a seductive expression. Thankfully the dimwit wasn't exactly the sharpest or maybe I was slipping into my new role better than I expected. Either way, it worked.

"Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?" He grew interested, wings flaring excitedly.

I played with my braid, acting coy. "How about desecrating one of the most famous cathedrals in the world? I figured if I have to lose my virginity, I should do it in style at least."

Azael could hardly contain himself. He was practically salivating over the idea of having me all to himself. "Hells yeah. I'll be a celebrity in Libidine for this."

"So... shall we go then?" I told him the destination and waited expectantly.

After a brief pause, the demon relented with a shrug. "Sure, sure. Don't plan on making a break for it though, you aren't going to get far and I won't be playing nice afterward. No backsies."

"No backsies." I agreed.

"In that case," He pointed towards the wall and ripped open the fabric of reality. A gaping hole opened, sending ashes flying into the air. "Ladies first."

I stepped forward, confident in my stride. Azael watched me enter the portal and shadowed my steps. "Hate to see you leave, love to watch you go."

"Nothing sexier than feeling like a piece of meat."

"I knew you'd warm up to me."

Snow covered gargoyles snarled from their perches, hunched over the rooftop as inanimate mouths bared brittle fangs, pointed ears cracked and worn, stone visages bearing the weight of weathered centuries. Several stood poised by the gutters, howling at the crescent moon rising over the City of Light.

The river Seine beckoned, murky waters reflecting a glowing beacon, the illuminated wrought iron lattice pulling attention away from frozen trees and honking streets until the Eiffel Tower stands front and center, its commanding presence looming over Paris.

I held the ancient railing, gazing over the glorious landscape beneath Notre Dame cathedral. Beside me, a limestone creature leaned over the edge and rested carved features on his hands, unimpressed by the view. Azael hovered next to the gargoyle, creating a mirror image as he imitated the pose.

"Always wanted to visit Paris," I admitted, unable to prevent myself from smiling. My eyes stung a bit. Funny how I thought my well was all dried up. But this was a different feeling. One I didn't think existed or hadn't considered possible.

"Oh for the love of Apollyon, what's your problem now? Don't tell me you're having second thoughts." The incubus groaned, falling back in midair.

"Fuck off. One, I've never been here. And two, I want to enjoy the scenery before - oh I don't know, the end of the goddamn world?"

"You're stalling, aren't you. I told you it's not going to be nice if you trick me."

"Look dude, I just want a few minutes to enjoy this. I'm not going anywhere. This might be the last thing I get to see before I turn into... her." I shuddered at the thought of what I'd become, what I'd do once that sinister persona emerged.

"Can't wait, honestly. You could use a personality adjustment and another cup size at least."

That was the tipping point. I snapped, discarding any notion of careful plans and waiting for opportune timing, intent on making this vulgar freak suffer.

Plunging my hand into the coat pocket, I withdrew a crucifix and shoved it before him. Azael reacted instantly, cowering from the icon. His pointed tail quivered in fear, unable to look at me as I backed away.

Then his form flickered, vanishing out of existence.

My neck was seized in a powerful grip, yanking me upwards as I choked and struggled against the vise. The crucifix was struck from my fingers. I thrashed, gasping for air.

"Told you I wasn't going to be nice. Seriously, your plan was to hold up Jesus and wave him around like I'm a vampire or something? What a dumb bitch."

I tried to speak, tongue flapping, garbled words caught in my throat. He put a finger to my lips, shushing them. "I like you much better this way."

Vermillion flames burst from his eyes, black smoke poured from the broken horns as the lust devil initiated a primordial ritual. Lightning crackled, white arcs spiraling around us. Snowflakes whirled in a vortex, hissing once they touched Azael, steam rising from his deformed body. He spoke, voice deepening into a solemn octave.

"Just as you shall serve the armies of Abbadon, your body will comfort me now. Will you take the crown or shall it be thrust upon you?"

His claws loosened slightly, just enough for me to breathe. I inhaled, coughing as he awaited my response.

"I will..."

Azael's lips twitched, forming a smug leer.

"... not serve."

My hand leaped out of my other coat pocket, clutching a little pink squirt gun. Azael blinked, visibly confused by the plastic toy. He wasn't once I pulled the trigger.

Holy water gushed from the nozzle, droplets sizzling on his malevolent flesh. The incubus screeched beyond the limits of mortal hearing, piercing my eardrums until the cry ascended to a higher pitch. He released me and leaped back with a tortured howl.

I fell to my knees, choking and wheezing while I dully watched the demon beating at the smoking bits of his melting face.

Azael succeeded in putting most of it out, turning to glare with a single bloody eye. Claws flexed, ready to tear my pupils out for revenge. Limbs tensed, wings shuddered. He panted, hot breath steaming the air as his chest heaved.

"Once I'm through with you," The incubus grinned humorlessly. "You'll be praying for me to kill you."

"Funny you should say that," I said. "Because I'm saving you the trouble."

Realizing my goal, Azael lunged. I raised the squirt gun. He phased away as I blasted my face and body a few times and reappeared in front of me. Claws reached out, pausing when he saw I was dripping with water.

The gun fired again, clipping a leathery wing. Azael roared, clutching the wounded appendage as I clambered onto the railing. His eyes widened, witnessing me fall back into nothing. Broken horns crackled, hunched form flickering unsteadily, unable to summon enough demonic energy.

I dropped away from the rooftop, time seeming to crawl.


Azael leaned over the precipice, hands swiping the air, narrowly missing my shoes. My hand stretched out, flipping him off. His snarling reply faded away as the wind roared in my ears.



It was cold.



Good thing I brought a coat.



I floated downward, head tilting as my vision swept over the starry sky above. Wish I had a better opportunity to admire everything. Paris at night is lovely. Guess I managed to scratch one thing off my bucket list.





Then I was seeing the city itself, the buildings and landmarks showering me with light as it grew closer, ready to swallow me, eagerly rushing up to greet my fragile body.






I didn't want to die.









But maybe it was for the best. At least now August could have a normal life. Everything would be fine once I was out of the equation.













If I had enough time, if I'd known my destiny in advance...














If only I wasn't such a coward...

















If only I could hold you once more...




















... if only...



















I struck the ground, the impact driving all the breath out of my body. Blossoms of agony bloomed behind my eyes. My ears rang, head throbbing as I gasped like a fish flopping on suffocating land.

Through the painful haze, I felt a curious sensation of weightlessness. As if... I was flying.

Was I dead? Is this how it feels to pass over into the afterlife?

Cracking open an eyelid, I saw the shining city shrinking away beneath me, gaining altitude. Something shifted under my back. Strong arms held me tight. I wasn't ascending into the heavens but being carried by a winged messenger. Twisting my head around revealed an unknown stranger.

Dark feathers caressed the air, ebony wings taming invisible currents, pulling us over the clouds as we soared towards the starry heavens. His hair was long, burgundy curls dancing in the freezing winds. There was something unusual and yet oddly familiar about those features, like a dream half-forgotten.

He glanced down and winked. "Don't worry, kid. I got ya."

"Vern?" I rasped.

The fallen angel chuckled softly. "In the flesh."

I punched his chest weakly. "You were cutting it a little too close with the rescue."

"Sorry bout that, it's a long story." He regarded me sorrowfully, regret haunting the shadows beneath his eyes. "From the looks of things, ya got a few tales of your own to share."

I grabbed my oldest friend in an awkward bear hug. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're here. Promise you won't leave me again."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Hey easy with the affection, I'm flying here!" Vern laughed, his once gravelly voice almost musical in quality. The hooked nose had diminished, sharp ears were rounded, and instead of razor fangs, he had the pearliest of whites. But the maroon eyes were unchanged, burning with ineffable warmth.

I released him, settling back. "Where are we going?"

"Back to our ol' stomping grounds." He tilted, veering by a flock of honking geese as we whizzed towards our destination.

"It's not safe there. Or anywhere..." I swallowed, recalling the horrible changes my parents had undergone.

Vern shook his fiery head and flashed an enigmatic smile. "Don't worry, I've got a plan."

I fell silent, watching the sleeping world spin below us. For the first time that weekend, a small seedling took sprout and budded as hope grew within my aching heart.