There is an eternal war between Heaven and Hell and not even great casualties are enough to stop it. Every day lots of angels and daemons die in the carnage but the death like that is an honorable one and an esteemed way to end eternal existence.
However, great deal of casualties was the soldiers taken prisoners, and here was the point where the difference between the two realms was emphasized. In Heaven the captured daemon was treated well. He sure was locked in cell but there was no harm done to him. His wounds were nursed and he was properly fed. The captured angel’s faith was not so happy. In Hell angel was tortured and humiliated. He was subdued to slavery and was even sexually abused. When daemons got bored with angel they killed him.
Both Heaven and Hell got their own high ranking commanders who had successfully leaded their troops from one battle to other. The best of all angel commanders was Azazel Silverwing who was known all over the world from his beauty and bravery. The women envied the angel’s perfect beauty and his argent wings and men envied his infallible courage and excellent leading skills. Azazel Silverwing was leader loved by both humans and angels and that made him the primary target of daemons. And finally after countless of failed retries’ the daemons did success to capture Azazel…
***
It was dark and screams of agony could be heard from somewhere far. Azazel opened his eyes and quivered when the pain find its way to his mind once again. Where was he?
The truth got shivers running down the angel’s spine when he tried to get up. Azazel’s hands were bound behind his back and his legs tightly together. In his neck he could feel a manacle which was fastened to the floor. The chain between the floor and the manacle was really short and Azazel could only turn his head a little. The pain in his left wing told him that the bone must had been broken. The angel let his body go flaccid against the dirty floor; he was a prisoner in the Hell...
When hours went by Azazel felt fear starting to eat its way through his courage. He wasn’t afraid of pain or death but neither one was the issue here.
The door opened and the dim red light got Azazel to turn his gaze to arrivals. At the door there were two daemons cruel smiles on their faces and Azazel wasn’t able to hide his fear. At this the soldiers laughed arrogantly.
“Brave and beautiful Azazel Silverwing… But a legend is always a legend, this one is as coward as everyone other angel.”
Soldiers stepped right next to the angel and before Azazel got to brace himself the other daemon kicked him to the face. The neck manacle prevented the movement of his head and the angel made a weak sound when the cheekbone fractured. The soldiers then opened the angel’s neck manacle and the rope around his legs only to replace it soon with longer chain.
Roughly the daemons pulled Azazel on his legs and started to drag him out of the room and along the long corridor.
Azazel didn’t raise his head; he didn’t want to see the arrogant smile of daemons around him. He knew that with this behavior he clearly told he had given up but he just couldn’t face the smiles of his captors.
Azazel made a little sound of surprise and pain when he was all of sudden hurled to the floor.
Unfriendly laughter all around him made shivers run down his spine; he knew all too well what daemons did to their captives.
Cautiously Azazel raised his gaze and noticed he was in great hall.
“Lord Zarak, We have brought the captive as you wished. “
Azazel was petrified when he heard the name; Lord Zarak. So now he was really in big trouble.
***
Lord Zarak sat in his throne on high platform and waited.
Yesterday had his troops successfully captured angels’ legendary leader and now he would finally get him before him.
Zarak had waited long this time to come; at last he would get Azazel to himself.
To daemon Lord Zarak was too handsome but his personality compensated this flaw. Both humans and angels feared the army of Lord Zarak.
He was the smartest and the cruelest of all daemon leaders.
Lord Zarak woke up from his musings when he heard loud laughter and noticed the angel on the floor.
At this moment the soldier told his affair: “Lord Zarak, We have brought the captive as you wished.“
Zarak nodded. “Good. Get it on its feet.”
Azazel heard the words and grimaced; it… He was no higher than some animal in the ranks of daemons.
Strong hands clawed him up and the angel felt the pain go more intense.
A weak noise got Lord Zarak’s attention and he stood up. “Your glory seems to have grown dim Azazel Silverwing.”
Azazel gazed up disregarding of pain. “On the other hand your glory has always been dim Lord Zarak.”
There was offended roar all around the hall and one of the soldiers who kept Azazel on his feet slapped him on the face. “Show your respect to Lord Zarak, prisoner!”
Zarak smiled pleased; angel leader has not yet been broken or subdued.
The daemon lord gave a little cold laughter and started to walk down the long stairs. “My dear Azazel… I’m glad your fiery nature is still untouched…”
Azazel watched as Lord Zarak stalked nearer and quivered in pain when the daemon took his face between his hands; the fear intensified from the moment to another.
Zarak saw the fear in his captive’s eyes and smiled calmly. “It will make your slave training much more enjoyable for me.”
Azazel met with Zarak’s gaze with contempt and spat the blood from his mouth to Zarak’s face. “You can imprison me but you can’t get me to subdue to you. And my loyalty is beyond your dreams.”
Zarak wiped the blood from his face with cold smile. “I don’t need to subdue you Azazel and your loyalty is something I don’t even want. All I need and want from you is your body.”
Zarak watched as his words got the fear increase in Azazel’s eyes; if the truth would be told the angel’s words hurt him but he would never show it to anybody. He wanted the angel to his own, to obey without restraint but if it wasn’t possible then he still got the angel’s body.
Azazel knew what the daemon meant with his words and quivered disregarding his best intentions; he would be nothing but Zarak’s toy in his wicked games. Angels weren’t sexually active, although very capable, and the mere thought of sex with daemon got Azazel to feel ill.
Angel’s were creatures made by the Creator of all and Azazel had never heard that an angel would give a birth. Not that sexuality was unknown to angels they just didn’t feel any pull towards the matter.
Zarak watched his captive a while and noticed just now that angel’s right cheekbone had fractured pretty badly. “What’s this?
Azazel trembled lightly at the angry question; had he done something awfully stupid?
However before Azazel even had time to react to the question Zarak turned angel’s head so he got to inspect the fracture more closely.
“I said I wanted this one in good health!!” Zarak’s yell came as surprise to all in the hall and silence came over them as heavy blanket.
Azazel felt the anger of the daemon and stayed quiet; he really didn’t need Zarak’s wrath in his situation.
The soldiers by his side seemed to be nervous and now Azazel decided to use the opportunity after all.
“How touching that you care about my well being so much Lord Zarak. After all everybody here knows what you’re going to do to me.”
Zarak had hard time to believe what he had just heard; did the angel dare to speak to him knowing the power of his wrath. In Azazel’s eyes he saw still fear but also defiance and pride, the two things he wanted to get rid off of his captive’s eyes.
In one quick movement Zarak grabbed Azazel from his neck and squeezed hard to get the angel gasp for air. “Be silent, slave! You have no permission to speak.”
With a cruel smile Zarak bend closer and licked the blood from the corner of Azazel’s mouth with one long and slow lick. “You’ve better to understand the truth Azazel. You’re my slave and I‘ll do to you whatever I feel like doing… I even might cut those pretty wings of yours just to make this matter to stay in your memory.” The daemon’s voice was quiet and calm but the threat in it convinced Azazel that Zarak was serious.
Finally Lord Zarak straightened himself. “Take this slave to my private quarters and shackle it tightly.”
Azazel had no choice but to walk between the soldiers who held him tightly from his bound arms.
Zarak watched the angel walking between the soldiers for a while; Azazel was perfect.
Gathering his thoughts the daemon lord walked back to his throne and started to deal with other pressing matters that demanded his attention.
***
Meanwhile the soldiers leaded Azazel to Lord Zarak’s private quarters and, to be precise, to his bedroom.
Before the angel had time to adapt to quite nicely decorated room the soldiers started to rip off his clothes. The long claws of daemons leaved small cuts on his skin when the daemons used them like knives to help to tear the fabric.
Azazel felt humiliated while standing there naked and bound between the daemons but refused to show it even then when the soldiers made him to kneel on the floor at the end of Lord Zarak’s bed and fastened manacles just above his knees.
The chains were attached to the bedposts so he couldn’t keep his legs together but had to stand on his knees in quite wide straddle - his hands still bound behind his back.
Lastly one of the soldiers put him a new neck manacle and fastened it so taut that Azazel had problems to breath. The two chains of the manacle were attached to the bedposts so that the angel wasn’t able to move his head.
When the soldiers finally took their leave Azazel felt relieved but only for a moment. The neck manacle was too taut and breathing was increasingly hard; for the first time Azazel started to hope that Zarak would come home soon.
***
Lord Zarak sighed deeply while walking towards his quarters; at last he would get to train his new slave.
It had taken several hours to listen through the situation in the war and more time had gone to planning more strategies. Finally when he couldn’t concentrate anymore he had left the hall and directed his steps to his quarters.
The mere thought about training Azazel got the daemon in good mood but when he stepped in his quarters there was no sign of the angel.
Zarak could feel his fury to burst in flames; either Azazel had escaped or the soldiers had dared to step inner than his front hall.
With growing annoyance Zarak searched through the rooms and corridors until he came to his bedroom and opened the door. There was a moment when Zarak couldn’t do anything but stare the breathtaking view in front of him.
Azazel’s wings shone in dim red light and his naked body got Zarak to change the way to start the training as his eyes followed the angel’s features.
Still, something didn’t feel right to Zarak. He couldn’t sense his slave’s repugnance or his contempt.
Calmly Zarak stepped to the shackled angel and stopped to look him in shock. “What the Hell?!”
The whole body of Azazel was covered in small wounds and there was no need to ponder where they might have come from but that was no what had shocked Zarak. It was the tightness of the neck manacle and his slaves tightly closed eyes from which slowly leaked silvery tears.
On the floor in front of Azazel’s knees there was countless of tiny pearls and anytime the tear from the angel’s eyes met the floor the new one was created.
When Lord Zarak bend forward to look his slave closer Azazel opened his eyes and for the first time in his life the daemon felt sick from all desperation and agony the angel was showing to him.
Azazel breathed in gasps and every little breath seemed to take a lot of strength of him.
The angel looked deep in the eyes of his captor and summoned what little he had left of his strength. “B-bro-ther…”
Zarak took couple of steps backwards when hearing the word and Azazel felt his desperation growing; he didn’t want to die like this.
His voice was only a hoarse whisper when he closed his eyes once more. “Bro-ther…p-ple-ase….
Zarak closed his eyes for a moment and finally stepped back in front of Azazel. “I’m not your brother, slave!” The voice of the daemon lord was cold and reflected only anger and contempt.
Azazel opened his eyes when hearing those cold words and made a tiny noise pain when Zarak’s hand hit him to his already fractured cheek.
All hope left Azazel on that moment and when he raised his eyes to look in the daemon’s cold eyes there were no tears anymore.
Zarak saw Azazel’s eyes turning blank and he felt all the emotions of the angel disappear; there wasn’t even desperation left.
The Heavenly army leader Azazel Silverwing had surrendered to his faith.
***
Zarak had never been so disappointed and for a moment he considered leaving Azazel to die in the way he was right now.
However the angel’s beauty got Zarak to change his mind and he kneeled in front of Azazel taking the angel’s face between his hands. “You’re my slave, Azazel.” Saying nothing more Zarak opened the neck manacle and the exhausted slave fell towards to lean on the daemon’s chest.
Azazel gasped for air after manacle had been taken away and leaned tiredly on Zarak; he hadn’t expected to be released.
Zarak bent a little making his captive to straighten and unlocked the chains from the manacles over the angel’s knees.
Azazel feeling his legs to have been unchained pulled them tightly together.
Zarak let out a sigh and took a better position on the floor letting the angel rest against his chest while he inspected his new slave’s body; Azazel’s every muscle was beautifully developed and the skin was flawless but now the angel’s body was marred by bruises and cuts which would take a lots of time to heal.
Zarak felt his anger to return; he had ordered to bring Azazel unharmed.
Azazel too felt how the daemon’s anger flamed once again and shook lightly from the strong sensation; was the anger meant for him?
Very cautiously the angel moved so he could look at the daemon’s face. “Brother..?”
Zarak woke up from his thoughts hearing the word and in one lightning fast movement grabbed in Azazel’s neck squeezing hard. “Silence, slave!”
With his other hand Zarak hit Azazel on the face as hard as he could and was surprised by the cracking sound of breaking bone and Angel’s scream of agony. And just then he realized that he had hit his slave on the right cheek which had been fractured already.
He felt a little bit of remorse knowing that now the bone really was broken and the angel’s healing would take a little eternity.
***
Azazel gasped for air but couldn’t do anything else while Zarak squeezed him on the neck and also his hands were still bound. The pain in his cheek was nearly intolerably and his wrists too started to ache more and more but Azazel refused to let out any kind of noise.
Zarak was confused and didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t apologize his slave neither he could let the matter to be. Finally the daemon let go of Azazel who fell to the floor to unmoving heap.
A lonely shining pearl rolled over to the floor and Zarak took it between his fingers. “A perfect pearl… Azazel, is your agony really this great?”
Azazel could hear the daemon’s melodious voice but he could not answer; the pain in his heart was simply too much.
Carefully Zarak raised the angel’s head and looked his bruised face with pity.
At that moment Azazel opened his eyes and his hate filled gaze got Zarak to petrify for a moment. “I do not need your pity, daemon.” Disregarding the pain Azazel managed to speak clearly and his voice stayed cool and steady.
This change was a total surprise to Lord Zarak who was speechless for a moment. Although his hateful words Azazel didn’t move away from his captors hands but still his will to fight sparked again.
When seeing this chance Zarak smiled coldly. “I knew that great Azazel Silverwing wouldn’t give up so quickly. Your training will be very enjoyable way to spend time.”
Azazel knew that he would never again enjoy his life neither he had false hopes about being rescued. Angels didn’t ever try to rescue their captured comrades because an angel captured and sent to Hell even once and even a very short while was regarded as tainted one and was never accepted amongst the pure angels.
Azazel had never understood why so many captured angels had committed suicide - before now.
There was no reason to escape because there was no going home and there was no other place for an angel. Those who got out of Hell in few days might get back to the Heaven but they were isolated and locked away from the society. The room might be luxurious but the freedom was gone. The Hell wasn’t option either for an honorable angel so the only choice left was death.
Azazel hadn’t ever believed that he would think self-inflicted death but Zarak had wounded him deeply.
***
Azazel could understand imprisonment and the treatment he had got from Zarak’s subordinates but he had never thought that Zarak himself would abuse him.
Still the physical pain he felt was nothing when compared to the ache in his heart; Zarak had denied their brotherhood even in the privacy of his own quarters and wanted him only as a slave.
Now Zarak saw depression in his slave’s eyes and familiar pain telling look came back in the once so fierce orbs. The daemon felt his confusion grow even greater; this was the first time he didn’t know what to do with his captive.
Azazel stayed silent and finally Zarak made his decision. With one movement of his hand he cut the ropes around his slave’s wrist and for awhile looked the broken and bloodied skin the ropes revealed. “Stand up Azazel.” While speaking the daemon stood up and gazed demanding to the angel on the floor.
Azazel trembled while moving his hands; all his arm muscles had cramped a long time ago and his wrists were sore.
When the angel failed to stand up as demanded Zarak grabbed him from the hair and pulled him up. “I told you to get up!”
Azazel didn’t make a sound and when eventually standing in front of Lord Zarak gazed the daemon calmly. “Thank you for your help Lord Zarak. You’re quite considerate.”
There was a little sneer on the voice of the angel and Zarak smiled to his slave’s daring attitude as he still could sense the fear from the angel. “Azazel, disregarding your tone while speaking to me, your words are proper for a slave. I know you have hard time to hide your fear for me so this one time I let this little slip to be but…”
Zarak tightened his firm grip on Azazel hair. “Don’t you ever again dare to use that tone while speaking to me, slave, or you won’t be able to fly or even flap those wings of yours.”
Azazel couldn’t believe what he heard. “Bro-brother…”
Zarak raised his hand ready to hit his slave again but the choked noise the angel made stopped him. The daemon looked his slave for a moment and saw the blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. “Azazel, what the…”
Quickly Zarak made Azazel open his mouth and just looked for awhile. “Either I hit you harder than I meant or you are weaker than I thought, Azazel.”
The broken bone on his right cheek had torn a nasty wound inside of the cheek and the blood was flowing freely and seemed to not going to stop any time soon.
The angel stayed still and silent; there was nothing to say anymore.
The daemon lord was mystified by the behavior of his new slave. At times Azazel was subdued and fearful prisoner and the second later he was his own prideful and unyielding self.
Zarak let go of Azazel’s hair and the angel to all his surprised stayed on his feet and looked him with eyes full of agony.
A pale hand rose to gently caress the daemon’s face. “It hurts brother… It hurts so much…” At that moment Azazel sank to the floor unconscious.
***
The blood started to flow out from the mouth of the unconscious slave and Zarak had to wonder the will of his slave; not a drop had leaked before he had threatened to hit Azazel again. The angel must have swallowed great amount of his own blood.
For a moment Zarak just watched Azazel but eventually turned and walked to the front door of his quarters slowly opening it. “Bring the healer!”
Saying nothing else he shut the door and walked back to where the angel was still lying on the floor. “What should I do with you Azazel..?”
Mindful of Azazel’s wings Zarak took him on his arms and carried him to the bed just as the healer stepped to the room.
“Forgive me my Lord Zarak. I took the liberty to come inside.”
Zarak turned to gaze the healer. “You’re welcome. I hope you can solve the little problem of mine.”
The healer turned his gaze to the unconscious angel on the bed. “Is it your new slave, my liege?”
Zarak nodded curtly. “I want it whole again.”
The healer nodded once. “As you wish, my lord, if I may recommend that you shackle it to the bed very tightly...”
Zarak looked to the healer mystified. “Why?”
Now the healer smiled the cruelest smile ever seen. “Because this process is going to hurt it like Hell, sire.”
Zarak raised his brow. “And the reason is..?”
The healer smiled calmly. “As you know, my lord, angels don’t heal by themselves in Hell. And our healing power brings great pain to all other races. I saw in the first glance that this one is the most perfect, the most pure and the most innocent of all the Creators creatures and that’s the reason it will suffer much more than any other would.”
Zarak nodded and walked to the great wooden trunk. “How should I shackle it?”
The healer gazed the angel and the blood still oozing out of his mouth. “Shackle it tightly but gently so it can’t hurt itself more than it is already, my liege. This in that assumption that you want your slave to remain sane, my lord”
Zarak pulled padded manacles from the trunk. “I have no need for an insane slave.”
***
Quickly the daemon lord put the manacles on his slave restricting him firmly to the bed and sat down on the bed to keep Azazel’s head still. “You can start when you’re ready.”
Healer nodded once and set his hand to the broken wing of the angel. “Yes my lord.”
Azazel’s eyes shot open and distressed sound of pain escaped from his lips. For a moment the angel gasped for breath not knowing where he was and what was happening.
Zarak saw pure fear in his slave’s eyes and he could sense it mounting; the daemon had never felt such powerful fear directed straight to him.
Very carefully like handling the wounded animal Zarak turned Azazel head so he could look him in to the eyes. “I want you to be healthy again Azazel so do as I say. Stay still now.”
Azazel looked the daemon terrified; everything that had happened to him after his imprisonment had hurt and he didn’t expect this to be exception. However this was the first time in his short slavery that he saw something else than contempt in the daemon’s eyes.
At the same time the pain slashed trough Azazel’s body and Zarak tightened his hold on the angel’s head. “Be still Azazel. This pain will not harm you.”
The angel gasped in the increasing pain trying to keep his screams from leaving his throat. Zarak’s words came quiet as if the daemon was far away and finally Azazel wasn’t able to stop the scream.
Zarak watched his slave closely while holding his head still; would Azazel be able to take all the pain the healing brought. The whole body of the angel was rigid and the violent convulsions brought by the pain testified the healer’s words truth; was Azazel not restricted he would have hurt himself really badly.
***
Frontpage Review fiction Next Chapter