When I came to, my neck and my wrists hurt. I moaned loudly. You may think that angels would be impervious to such things, but we do have physical vessels. We are flesh and blood. Heartier than humans, yes, but when someone is unconscious, hanging by their wrists by metal cuffs and chains with no other means of support, being an angel means little. I gauged I had been hanging for awhile, for when I lifted my head my neck screamed in protest.

"Oh good, he stirs."

I opened my eyes. Well, eye. Though I had no recollection of it, I must have been roughed up because my one eye wouldn't open. I could also feel what I assumed to be dried blood covering my lips and chin.

"Ah, Auriel," I croaked out, smiling. "Good to see you. Although, I would like to know who you really are."

Auriel smiled and folded his hands in front of him. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Well," I said, just as pleasantly, trying to focus on where I was hurt instead of my itching wings, "We appear to be in a dungeon, and I am not stupid. So—who are you?"

Auriel laughed, a sound like he was losing his mind. "You have been rather persistent, I will give you that. A pesky fly buzzing in my ear. How did you figure it out?"

"See," I said, struggling to my feet. My hands and wrists shrieked in pain, and then went numb. My hips hated me. My shoulders were absolutely on fire. I flexed and unflexed my hands—they would do nothing for me, feeling like numb hunks of meat that did not belong to my body. "You might have thought I had taken your explanation that Metatron was busy helping other patrons at face value. However, every day I visited you, I called out to him."

Auriel looked angry. "No you did not. I would have heard you."

I laughed. "Ah, so you must be a low-ranking demon, or an incredibly stupid one."

Auriel looked angry, nostrils flaring. I laughed some more, hoping to bide myself time to get my hands in proper working order.

"So," I taunted, "you honestly think that angels don't have their own frequency only angels can hear? It's common knowledge, really."

And suddenly Auriel was before me, the tip of a knife pressed under my chin. I could tell he was showing a considerable amount of restraint to not just drive the blade up and be done with me. I flexed my hands faster. Besides that, I showed no fear.

"So," I said, "What have you done with Metatron?"

He pushed against the blade hard enough to pierce my skin, but no further. I swallowed but made myself smile pleasantly. "You are in no position to be asking questions, seraphim."

"It's Seraphin."

He blinked. "What?"

"Seraphin. My name is Seraphin."

He cocked his head to the side.

I genuinely laughed—he was a stupid demon. "You said seraphim, but my name is Sera—"

He punched me in the face. It hurt. But I could take more. Rolling my head and licking the fresh blood from my busted lip, I looked him dead in the eyes and smiled.

"What else gave it away?"

"You stink."

"Excuse me?"

"The corruption. I'm surprised I didn't realize it sooner. I knew I smelled something, but I assumed it was from you not showering and being so feverish. Until recently I recognized the stench—it smelled like Hell."

He seemed genuinely curious. Good. My hands and arms were painfully tingling now with blood flow returning. I knew I was bound by warded shackles—I could see the runes etched into the metal. However, the less incapacitated I was the better. "Hell smells?"

"Oh yes—no offense. It doesn't smell bad. Just like every location has its own unique smell, so does Hell." I smiled. "A sort of pungent sulfur. And you reek of Hell."

He punched me again and I heard my nose crack. I moaned, but then laughed. He pressed the blade to my chin a bit harder. "What else?"

"Well, when I couldn't get a hold of Metatron I realized how empty Metatron was."

"Yes—those left were my soldiers. We slaughtered the rest."

I froze. Suddenly nothing mattered—not my stinging limbs, my hurt nose, not even my itching wings.

"Ah, there you are," he taunted, thrusting the blade upward so I had to tilt my head back and stare down my nose at him. "There's the soldier I have heard so much about."

"What have you done?" I hissed out.

He moved the knife just long enough to slash my cheek. Then it went right back under my chin. "I thought I said you can't ask questions. Now—what else?"

"The last thing that made everything come together were my wings."

He looked confused. "Your wings?"

"You really are an idiot," I snapped. "You asked me what was wrong with my wings. You should have known about molting."

Whoever was possessing Auriel sighed heavily, twisting the knife in slow particular rotations. I swallowed again, trying to make it seem I was much less nervous than I actually was. "Do you have a death wish, Sera?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Stop calling me stupid." He slashed my face again.

I gritted my teeth in pain and glared at him.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" He held the blade now, point pressed against his fingertips as he spun the blade slowly. He studied it for a few moments dramatically. Finally he flicked his eyes to me and smiled. "Do you know what this is?"

I paused. "A knife?"

Auriel's body twisted back into it's maniacal grin. "But do you know what makes this blade special?"

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept myself calm. "Love?"

He backhanded me. When I looked back, he grabbed me by my hair and yanked my head back, neck exposed. He pressed the knife to my jugular. "Take a guess what's inside it."

Oh, fuck. I suddenly was, actually, quite afraid. I wasn't sure how well I was able to school my face into indifference, but I tried.

"See, once you told me you were molting, I got an idea. So I think a thank you is in order. Especially because you look properly afraid now."

Fuck.

"So, Sera, care to explain to me your fear?"

I began to tremble. "You took one of my feathers and put it in the blade, didn't you?"

"I may be stupid, but you are smart." The wicked grin returned. "Now, let's go over why this is important. Explain."

"Why? If you already know—"

He slashed my chest. It wasn't superficial, like my cheeks had been. I yelled in pain before I bit it back, moaning.

"Because I want to feed on your fear," he said loudly over me. He slashed me again and I screamed, unable to stop myself. He slashed me a final time, along my bicep, before he stopped. "Now, explain to me why having your feather in this blade scares you!"

"It puts my power into it, and since it is my own I am weak to it."

To prove the point, he drove the knife deep into my shoulder. I screamed, the knife feeling as though the blade were on fire. Instead of pulling it out he just left it there, fingers wrapped around the handle. His mouth broke into a grin so wide it looked painful.

Panting, I spoke. "Who are you?"

He abruptly jerked the knife out and my knees gave way. The demon grabbed my shoulder—where he had just stabbed me—and pressed his thumb into the wound. I screamed again and he hoisted me to my feet.

"I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid," he said. "To know my name gives you power."

Mikha'el, I prayed, hoping he could hear me. I could use your help about now...

Auriel threw his head back and chortled. "So much for your angel only frequency, eh?"

I was confused when he pointed to the ceiling. I looked above me. There was some sort of pentagram warding painting on the ceiling. It glowed faintly red.

I moaned. "Oh fuck me."

"I mean, if you really want me to. That probably would be rather traumatic for Auriel."

Horror seized me, and I gaped at him. "He's still in there?"

"Oh yes. I've been letting him watch this entire time. In fact, I used his body to slaughter all the angels after we had Metatron under control. Their bodies are all in the basement of the library, by the way."

"Bodies? What're you—"

"Oh! I didn't tell you?"

He slammed the knife into my other shoulder and I wailed. This time, he twisted it. I howled in pain. He leaned in so our noses were almost touching.

"We have necromancers on hand. Right before they die, we resurrect them." Laughter laced with insanity bubbled up and sprung from his mouth. "Over, and over, and over again"

I headbutted him. He stumbled back. He then laughed and ripped the knife out. I felt it cut through my collar bone and I bit back a sob.

"Ah, yes, there we go! Now you're good and riled up! Now the fun beings!"

I spit at him. His neck did this strange twitch. Auriel shuddered visibly, and then he went back to smiling.

"Now I get to torture you!"

I laughed. "Go ahead. You act like I've never been tortured before."

"Oh no—not you."

Auriel turned the blade around and plunged it into his own stomach.

"NO!"

Auriel gasped. He gave another full-body shudder and then shrieked in agony. He stumbled, blood pouring out from his wound. Auriel looked at me, a look of horror on his face.

"S-Sera?"

"Auri—"

His body shuddered and he went back to laughing. He pulled the knife out and staggered around a bit. I began to struggle against my chains earnestly.

"Auriel? Auriel?!"

"Auriel isn't here right now," he cackled. "Just me."

He plunged the knife in again, this time off to the side.

"AURIEL!"

My friend dropped to his knees, altering between shrieking sobs of pain and laughter. He pulled the knife out again. I lurched forward with all my strength, screaming, but it did nothing. I went slack and then threw myself forward, but it didn't do anything. I tried again—still the shackles held me.

I watched in horror as Auriel seemed to have a convulsion. He flopped over, writhing. I didn't know if it was from the knife wounds, but then I understood.

"Auriel!" I screamed over his muffled screams. "I know you're still in there! Fight him! Fight him! I know you can—"

He had taken the blade one more, plunging it into his calf. He howled in pain and flopped over again. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and sobbed, rolling around. There was blood—so much blood. I yanked against my bindings once more, but still they held me. I could feel the metal plates secured to the wall behind me creak and groan—it gave me a sliver of false hope. Still they held.

"Auriel!"

He laughed, but it was not his own voice. He was bent, right arm under his body and coming out through his left, so his upper body was twisted with his ass in the air. His right cheek was against the floor, and when he smiled at me, his eyes glowed red.

"Auriel is still here. I'm keeping him here and making him feel all the pain. I'm making him stay alive for awhile longer."

"Let him go! Release him!"

Auriel, moving in a jerking, unnatural way, moved his right arm out from under him. He situated himself kneeling on the backs of his legs. His eyes flickered, just for a moment, and he abruptly threw the knife away to the side. Then he slammed his face down against the floor twice—there was a sickening crack.

"Stop it, please!" I begged.

I couldn't cry. I fought it tooth and nail. Yet when I tried to shut my eye, some preternatural force kept it open. I tried to turn my head away but it stayed as though in a vice.

Auriel was laughing again, half his voice and half the deep guttural sound of the demon.

"This one," Auriel said, "This one is sprightly. He's trying to kill himself."

Something was preventing me from tapping into my angelic power. As I desperately looked about the room, I noticed every wall was covered with demonic writings, pentagrams, sigils and wards. A wave of hope clutched me—they had to have been making Auriel weaker too. It seemed as though the demon was having difficulty controlling Auriel—did that mean he was weakened as well, taking on a host who was impeded by the sigils meant to harm me? The devil traps set to ensnare me—were they having an unexpected backfire?

Mikha'el —PLEASE! I need you—NOW!

This time there was no taunting me that my ward wouldn't be able to hear me. It gave me another stab of hope. I began to silently pray, over and over again, begging for his aid. Auriel forced himself to his feet. He was laughing again, his wounded leg dragging behind him. The demon seemed to really be having trouble controlling Auriel now, staggering over to the discarded weapon. Lurching, he stooped over and picked it up, then shuffled over to me. He was moaning, face twisted, half of it slack, the other half normal but with a red glowing eye.

Mikha'el, please please please please please, I need you, it's getting bad.

Auriel was in front of me. He put the knife in my hand, forcing me to clench it. My eyes were filling with tears, but I could not, would not let them fall—

Auriel held my hand, with the knife, situated it with the blade out. Giving me a final grin, he slumped against me.

The knife I held plunged into his heart.

I screamed. I screamed so loudly the walls shook. Suddenly from no where a Fallen appeared next to me, with his own knife. He grabbed Auriel's lifeless body off me, shoved it away, and then plunged his knife into my right wing.

I howled in agony and the walls shook again. The demon at my side cut my wings, over and over. It was the worst pain I had felt in my life. In all my training, my wings had never been touched. All the times I had been tortured so I would know what to expect...all the times I had been whipped and beaten...All the times I thought Mikha'el had pushed me to my limit...

Nothing prepared me for my wings being attacked.

The pain was beyond unbearable. It felt like my soul was being pulled. Like something was being peeled back away from my ribs, internally. It made me feel sick, it made me feel dizzy. And as I looked at Auriel's lifeless body, and I tasted bile in the back of my throat, I dropped to my knees.

I watched as this strange red humanoid mist leaked out of Auriel's body. I watched the strange mist turn solid, until a woman stood next to him. I watched as she turned to me, with her green skin and serpentine black eyes and she smiled, and a forked tongue darted out of her mouth as she winked at me.

As my wing was cut a final time, I found myself trapped inside my head. I thought of the perpetually dying angels in the basement of Metatron. I thought about how I didn't know what they had done to him, so how was I supposed to save him? I thought about Auriel's dead body, feet away from me.

And with these thoughts, I finally did what I had been trying so very hard not to do.

I began to sob.

It didn't matter. As another demon appeared with a vial, and she collected my shimmering tears, it didn't matter. I would be dead. With my wings cut, my torso cut in several place, I knew I was dying. I was alone. My plan hadn't worked. Mikha'el wasn't answering me.

I went limp and closed my eye. Nothing mattered. I had failed.

I'm sorry, Mikha'el.

There was a blinding flash of white light. I flinched. Confused, I opened my eye and was stunned by what I saw.

Angels. Angels had come for me. There was a brief scuffle, the demons clearly caught off guard. They were dispatched quickly, their smoking bodies falling to the ground. I blinked, and an angel I didn't know had quickly unshackled me. I slumped against them and they caught me. I saw them moving their mouth; I realized they were speaking, but I couldn't hear them.

I was tired. So very, very tired.

I watched as though in a dream as the angel cradling me turned, and shouted something. They were crying. I didn't know who she was, but I wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, that she shouldn't waste her tears on me. I raised my hand and gently wiped a tear away. She looked at me, shocked, with more tears spilling out of her eyes. She looked away again and shouted, but I still couldn't hear her. I wanted to brush more tears away, but I noticed my arm had fallen away to the side; I was unable to move it.

I was tired. So tired.

The beautiful angel that held me was shoved away.

Mikha'el. It was Mikha'el. He had come for me. He looked frantic, and he began crying, and saying something, but I couldn't hear him. It was okay though.

I was happy.

I wasn't in pain.

My wings didn't itch.

Mikha'el had come for me.

I smiled and thanked him. I don't know if he heard me though.

Then nothing.