MonkeyVault-Chapter 1

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Chapter 1



It was the incessant, drug-bust style knocking at her front door that eventually dragged Alula from a deep, amphetamine and alcohol induced sleep...and if that wasn’t bad enough, it was soon accompanied by a familiar voice squawking through her letterbox.

“Saint, have you died or are you fucking there!”

Alula groaned and did the classic pillow-over-the-head dramatics, feeling immediate and unrepentant misery on the realisatation she was actually conscious. To make matters worse Jael, her ball-breaking foster-sister was outside, practically screaming the door off its hinges and burning the paint away in fury. For one- why was Jael at her house? And two-why had she not called first? This was Alula’s thoughts as she rolled over and checked the time on her alarm clock, coming smack bang with the culprit of Jael's lack of courtesy and communication. Question two had been answered, her mobile phone was head down, if phones could have heads anyway, in a glass of wine. Not the best way to silence an alarm; drop it in fluid, expect it to survive and go back to sleep. In what could be argued as a rather intoxicated attempt to save the phone's already hopeless digital life, Alula swung her arm out, knocking the offending glass off her night-stand and onto the floor. She grumbled at her own stupidity- now not only had she managed to kill her phone but also stain her carpet in process as well.

Angry, she growled and swung out of bed, tripping over piles of discarded clothes in her wake and swearing with the profanity of a rap star as she headed down the stairs and made her way to the front door.

“One iris’ is black and the others yellow. Have you been taking drugs again? And why is your phone off? I’ve been trying to contact you all morning!” Was how Jael greeted her when Alula eventually found her house key and opened the door!

“Why do you always refer to me by my surname when in actual fact its the same as yours? It’s just weird thing to do because I’m your sister and you've known me for most of your life." Alula mumbled, rubbing the sleep-crust out of her eyes, "Oh, and cheers for emphasizing the fucked up eye-thing, I always enjoy an update on how inhuman I am. ”

Alula’s eyes changed colour depending on her mood, it was unique feature but not unexpected considering her heritage- she was after all Nephilim and had Angelic ancestors. She just thanked God for the invention of coloured contact lenses, it made concealing the fact she was a freak a lot easier. It appeared eye colour mutation was the only gift Alula had inherited, meaning it was impossible to tell a convincing lie. It was verbally plausible but not physically as her eyes would betray her- a pretty wank and pointless power from Alula's perspective.

Jael was also Nephilim but had no outwardly manifestations to prove it, just elegant good looks and a fiery temper-but a lot of people were like that- so what, she was a telekinetic genius with the added bonus of being able to bend the truth at her hearts content.

Jael responded to her sister’s predictable sarcasm with the sourest of smiles, “An attempt to disassociate myself with you. Now let me in, get dressed and be quick because we have a body.”

“Yeah so? If I recall our job roles, Jael, I kill shit not investigate it. That’s your task not mine. I’m not interested in looking at the product of their sick nocturnal habits.”

Alula and Jael were ‘Seekers’ as were all Nephilim, and their sole purpose in life was too assist the Seraphim (not that anyone had ever actually seen one!) in controlling and maintaining the balance of evil creatures that inhabited the Earth. Jael was classified as an ‘Inquisitor’, basically a Supernatural Federal Agent or a nosey bastard by some and Alula was a ‘Chaser’, an assassin or as the geeks in Jael’s unit referred to them ‘pest control’.

Alula sighed and widened the door so her sister could step inside.

“God, Lula you live in a tip!”

Jael screwed her face in disgust as she precariously picked her way over the jungle of shoes, coats and mounds of discarded letters that littered the floor on her way to the kitchen. “But at least you’re alone for a change, no random men lounging around or grubby housemates to contend with!”

Jael was only a year older, but Alula was sure that mentally her sister already used a Zimmer frame and wore Tena Ladies.

Alula rolled her eyes as she clambered back up the stairs and just hoped her square and prudish sister had the common sense to put the kettle on. Before she contemplated doing anything, she needed caffeine.

After washing, scrubbing, brushing and eventually dressing, Alula was ready but had to admit that the usual beauty-routine hadn't worked its magic, she still looked like a bag of shit. Her honey coloured skin was a putrid shade of yellow from all the abuse it had taken last night. One eye-acidic lemon, the other as black as tar. Her silver-blonde hair equated to dull, and for some reason a peculiar and offensive shade of gray that was refusing to straighten. Usually her upward slanting eyes and delicate heart-shaped face gave her an edgy Japanese-anime-girl aspect that was credited for being cool and funky. Not today, she looked as if she required a good priest and a decent night’s sleep.

Jael was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs with a mug of black coffee in her hand, looking fresh and as gorgeous as any conservative Inquisitor could be. The damson pigment in her formal suit complimented Jael's deep chocolate hair and amber eyes. Shame they narrowed like a cat's when Alula sloped, all fragile and sickly looking down the stairs.

“You’re not turning up to work looking like that!” She spat, eyeing the denim skirt and retro t-shirt as if Alula was strutting around in some kind of peep-hole bra and crotch-less thong combo.

“Err...not at work remember? I work nights. I believe it’s you who’s dragging my arse to the Angel Asylum when I don’t need to be there! Just remind me again, why am I actually going, considering I know nothing about poking and prodding corpses?”

“Oh you’ll want to see this one, Lula, trust me and we're not going to the Asylum.” Jael smiled coyly, nodding her head with an annoying and condescending amount of certainty.

“Ooh gripping! Just tell me because I can’t really be bothered to play along with your stupid game of intrigue and mysticism.”

Alula's retort was harsh, shy of almost rude but she honestly didn't give a fuck.Her body ached and moaned from the come down and it was like someone had taken a piss in her mouth. The only game that could have possibly encouraged a smattering of enthusiasm from her at the present moment would be something involving sleep and rotting in bed.

With a petulant tut and a bit of eye-rolling, Jael told her, “Because, Alula, it’s an Angel. A-real--fucking-Seraph, three doors away from your house and you should see the state it’s been left in!”