Aequitas and the Devil

The Angel of Divine Justice walks the streets of New York. The stench of rotting meat and garbage weigh the air down. The early morning fog restricts his vision to almost none. The gloomy streets, bearly light by the street lights, shadow the homeless, watching the Seriph's every move. The Angel can feel a great pain, a pain of the lack of the divine, even as he passess a church, the pain only lightens slightly. The Great Angel truges on, looking for a place called Manhattan.
The sun begins to crest over the horizon, and the Angel of Divine Justice walks on to the Manhattan Bridge. as cars pass him in the post down gloom, the beams of the bridge create a mesh of shdadows that adds to the ominous appearance of the city. The river below softly lapps on the beams of the bridge. Morning doves coo gently and the crows let out hollow caws.
As the Seriph finally makes his way into the heart of Manhattan, he makes his way to the hotel he will be staying in, which is next to a grand cathedral. This building glistened gold with the morning dawn. Dew covered the umbrellas of the newspaper stands. The hot dog and peanut salesmen are pushing their carts into place for the long day ahead.
The Angel of Divine Justice moves into the hotel, after watching a few people go through the revolving door. After claiming his room key from the front desk, he moves into the grand hallway. The hall is graced with draparies on the walls. The walls are painted a warm hue of yellow and the draparies complemented the wall coloring well. On the celing there was a beautiful mural of an angel fighting demons back into the hellmouth. The hardwood on the floor was laid in the direction of the hallway. A beige runway rug was laid in the middle leading to the massive stairway that lead to the ballrooms. On the walls of the hall were the doors that lead to the elevators.
The Angel entered the elevator and pushed the button that corolated to the number on his key tag. There were a few other people in the elevator with him. The older gentleman was in a buisness suit, very simmilar to the one the Angel wore. There were also two younger women, no more than twenty five each, who were discussing their activities of the night before. The older man talked on his cell phone to a subordinate about a project comming up.
The elevator reaked of sin. The stench nearly made the Angel gag. He could feel the pain of the lack of divinity strongly here. The Angel, standing in the back, unbuttoned the jacket he was wearing slowly. The old man was an adulterer and the girls were theaves and harlots, he could see their acts of mortal sin vividly in his mind. The Angel reached into the overcoat and unbuttoned his blaizer, reaching for the pistol sitting on his hip. His hands grew clammy, the thrill of divine justice always got him excited. The cold steel of the grip felt good in his sweaty hands.
Just as the pistol was leaving its sheath, the elevator let out a ding and the doors opened, and an old woman entered. She was a pure soul, the Angel sheathed his blessed weapon of The Lord and prayed for the elevator to reach is floor soon.
The elevator stopped again and the women got out. The buisness man got out on the next floor as well as the good old woman. At last the air had become clear of sin, the Angel could breathe clearly again.