Wings, Flings, and Demon Kings || COMPLETE

Chapter 14: Belzifer

Content warning: This chapter contains allusions to violence that may be upsetting to some readers.

4:50 P.M.

Archangel Ramiel's residence

H̶e̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶-

4:51 P.M.

T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶

4:52 P.M.

Breathe, Nirael. Breathe.

5:11 P.M.

Oh Diary, I've made a terrible mistake.

So terrible I can't bring myself to write about it.

...

No.

I have to.

Because Azerath deserves to have his story told.

Because it was my mistakes that sent things wrong, and writing down everything that happened is a fitting punishment.

... Also, it's not like I'm able to do anything else right now.

I'm probably going to get memory wiped soon.

And honestly, it's for the best.

... At this point, 'not remembering' might be a welcome relief.

5:17 P.M.

I suppose my mistake-or rather, series of mistakes-began this morning, after Archangel Ramiel's telephone call.

I got impatient, you see.

Azerath wasn't calling me back. And I needed to let him know about Archangel Ramiel's offer.

Eventually I couldn't wait any longer. I ignored Azerath's warnings, donned the same questionable disguise I'd worn last night, and went to his apartment.

It was only when I reached the corridor to his apartment, with its flashy chandeliers, that I realized I'd miscalculated.

Belzifer was waiting for me.

5:20 P.M.

Somehow I knew it was him, despite never having met him before. Perhaps it was his demeanor. His human form was a young man, striking in its beauty, almost Azerath's height, although unlike Azerath's eyes, his were a flinty gray instead of a warm green. Cruelty lurked beneath his smile, in the hard set of his jaw and the curl of his lips.

He must have been lying in wait for me on the landing to Azerath's rooms, because the moment I stepped off of the elevator, his hand landed on my shoulder.

"You must be Nirael," he said.

Or tried to say. As you've probably gathered, I don't react well to surprises, and having an unfamiliar hand land on my shoulder sent alarm bells clamoring through my head. I shrieked and leapt backwards in terror, then shrieked again as the elevator tried to close on my arm.

Belzifer's hand encircled my wrist, and the next second I was out of the elevator, spinning around to face him. He looked me up and down, and his lip lifted in the barest hint of a snarl, before he pasted an insincere smile on his face.

"Jumpy thing, aren't you?" There was a sweetness to his words that made my teeth ache with warning. Everything he said sounded wrong, like a choir song sung out of tune. "Don't worry. I only want to talk. You have nothing to fear."

His words made me more afraid than ever, though I tried not to show it. "I don't want to talk to you."

"That's too bad." His words slid over me, dark and slimy like sewer waste. "Because I'm not really in the habit of giving people a choice about these sorts of things. And that especially applies to impertinent angels who don't know their place. Come with me."