Date: Thu, 12 Aug 2004 05:53:38 +0000
From: Jason Parker <archangelmatthew72@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Angel: Part 16

Author's Note: AND STAY OUT! *shakes his fist n
then relaxes* ahh... freedom! Yes indeed, all 17
of my exams are over and done with. Thank god!
Well, I'm sorry for the loooong delay of this
chapter, but life's been a bit hectic lately.
Anyway, summer vacation has started and that
leaves me with a bit of extra time on my hands.
As such, this chapter is a bit longer than they
usually are (call it compensation for the wait
if u please). I would also like to announce that
 I have started two other stories, one of which
will be making it's debut on Nifty shortly. Hope
 you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Surgeon Generals warning: The contents
 herein are thought to cause lack of sleep,
fanaticism, good and bad dreams, restlessness,
confusion, dementia and other similar signs of
addiction. Research is currently taking place to
investigate the effects of this material on the
mind. Proceed with caution. Oh yeah, if, on the
off chance that you hadn't already noticed, this
is about gay guys. And if that applies, and you
didn't notice... I think you need to go back and
repeat the 3rd grade... just a thought.

* * *

	Jason woke three days before Christmas,
depressed and starving after missing dinner the
previous evening. He staggered into a shower and
then got quickly dressed, trying desperately to
ignore the rumblings of his empty stomach. Once
dressed, he made his way down and across the
compound to the mess hall. He braced himself for
the usual stares and lustful looks and then pushed
open the doors. Silence rained. The room was
deserted. He checked his watch and then the large
wall clock. It was barely nine o'clock, the mess
should still have been bustling.
	He grabbed a bagel out of the cafeteria and
sat himself down with a cup of coffee, to await
someone to show up. Fifteen minutes, one bagel and
two cups of coffee later, he found himself making
his way towards the training court, intent on
passing the time exercising. At least until he
caught sight of a few stragglers hurrying off
towards the far side of the compound. The first
sign he had seen that he wasn't the only human
left, he raced after them. They slipped through
the door of a massive carved stone structure and
he slowed to a brisk walk.
	Reaching for the iron door ring, he stiffened
as he caught something in the wind. He turned his
head and sniffed again, smelling the distinct odor
of sulfur and brimstone. Jason turned on the spot
and searched the surrounding hills for the source
of the smell. A sudden sense of dizziness washed
over him and he staggered back against the stone
wall. He blinked heavily and gasped as he felt
them close -from the sides! He blinked again, and
felt his sight pinch close form the sides and then
his normal eyelids slid to cover over them as he
squeezed his eyes closed. When he opened them
again dark bands of swirling mist flowed across
the ground in front of him. They extended from
all around him, and he followed the line they
made, converging on a distant rise. And there was
that distinct smell again.
	Jolted into action by the sight, he flung
the door open and dashed inside.

* * *

	"He sees us."
	"So?" Damien sneered. "It doesn't matter if
he's dead."
	"HA!" the other man laughed. "It'll take more
than a few of those Abyssal Horrors to take him
out. Trust me."
	"That's why I'm requesting the service of one
of the pit lords." Damien said icily.
	"His Lordship has decided that, due to your
recent behavior and lack of subtlety, you won't be
supplied with any more resources besides the basic
catchers."
	"WHAT?" Damien almost shouted in disbelief.
"How the hell am I supposed to kill him with just
catchers?"
	"You're not. His Lordship ordered his capture,
not his death. We need him alive."
	Damien grunted disapprovingly as if he
thought it was all a waste of time.
	"If I were you," his companion continued.
"I'd get in there yourself and see to it you
loose as few of your 'resources' as possible."
He smirked and then a mushroom of flame swallowed
up his feet and traveled up his body. The acrid
scent of ozone and sulfur hung for a moment in
the air before being swept away by the cool
December breeze.
	"Fuck you all!" Damien snarled.

* * *

	"It is my proud honor today," Sara said loudly,
her voice ringing across the arched hallway from
the podium and drawing the attention of the
gathered crowd. "To welcome you to the unveiling
of the 'Albrich Infirmary.' Donated kindly by Mr.'s
John S. and Albrich G. who unfortunately couldn't
be with us today or we would have had to kill them."
	A soft chuckle emanated from the crowd, the
fact that visitors were never aloud was a sore
spot for all, and Sarah was thus constantly trying
to make light of it.
	She drew a break and continued. "Now, without
further ado I-"
	The rest was lost as Jason burst through the
doors shouting for everyone to get out. "Run! Get
out of here! Now!"
	A buzz of noise washed through the room. What
was going on? Had Sara's brother cracked under
the pressure of his intense training? Was he mad?
	"What's going on here Jason?" She shouted
from her place. "Can't you see this is important?
I would have expected better from you Jason." She
berated him. "I will speak to you afterwards."
	"But-!"
	"After!" she interrupted and then smiled
wanly at the crowd. "Now, without further
interruptions," she glared at a chastened Jason,
and reached to pull a silk cord near her. "I
present to you th-"
	"Commander!" A guard came sliding down the
wide ramp that led further into the infirmary.
"Mistress Sara, we're under attack!"
	"What?" she snapped.
	The guard gasped, out of breath, "I was in
the watchtower when I saw them. There are fires
everywhere and something is moving out there too."
His voice carried to the microphone Sara had been
using and was magnified around the hall.
	At the word 'fire' the crowed sprang to
their feet and tried to push their way outside
to carryout their duties in case of such an event.
The backlog of people crowded around Jason in
their push for the exit.
	"Scott," he heard Sara say. "Organize a
security party and find out what the hell is going
on. Stop whoever it is from doing more damage."
	Jason hung his head. "It's too late, they're
already here."
	And then the screams began to carry in
from outside.

* * *

	Panicked people, who had just moments before
been pushing to get out, now struggled desperately
to get back into the shelter of the hall. Carried
by the tide of bodies, Jason was pushed up near
Sara. She grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him
up onto the platform she was standing on.
	"What's going on Jason?" she shouted over the
noise. "You knew something was coming, what is it-"
	She was cut short as she ducked and pulled
him to the ground as man-sized boulder hurtled
through the great doors and shattered against the
wall above and behind them. Rock shards rained
down on them.
	Sara pulled him to the side, out of range
of the doors and shouted for everyone to do the
same. A few more of the boulders followed the
first through but then ceased. Heavy silence hung
in the hall, disturbed only be the low moans of
wounded people who were quickly being moved further
into the newly furbished infirmary.
	"Jason what is going on?" Sara asked him.
She shook his shoulder but received no response.
"Jason?" asked again. But his mind had already
slipped away from him.

	Jason crouched on the ground by Sara as the
black swirling bands flowed through the door and
circled around him. His mind was suddenly being
called and pulled out through the door, leaving his
body behind. Whereas before, the black bands had
been few and concentrated around him, here, outside
the building, the ground was black with them.
	His mind flowed around the dead and wounded
who lay on the ground. They had been the first
victims, he hoped there wouldn't be too many more.
He sensed the flames licking at buildings around
the compound, but his mind was drawn back to the
infirmary. Black shapes were moving up the walls
towards the stained glass windows. As soon as he
knew what was going to happen, his mind was
slingshot back into his body and he came alive
next to Sara with a gasp.
	"Jason?! What's happening?" She demanded.
	"The windows!" he managed to call out. "Move
away from the windows!"
	People scampered out of the way moments before
the largest of the stained glass windows burst
inwards. Four heavy forms crashed to the ground
amongst the rain of crystal shards. They glistened
black in the light flooding through the windows.
All four of them simultaneously rose to their feet.
	"Shoot them!" Sara ordered.
	Scott's team was already opening fire with
pistols, but the bullets seemed to ricochet off
them. The tirade of bullets cased and the six
figured moved forwards towards Jason. Scott's guards
charged at them, a few drawing knives and attacking
with them. Black clawed hands snatched out and
hurled most of them aside to slump against the walls.
One of the men managed to land a blow with his knife
against the leg of an intruder before being snatched
up. Thick, oily liquid pumped out of the wound onto
the ground. The clawed hand holding him by the
neck held him aloft and tightened its grip. Jason
heard him gasp and struggle as the blood in his veins
reversed its flow and pumped up towards his neck.
His skin turned ashen and shriveled as the claw
sucked his lifeblood out. It tossed his crumpled
body aside and advanced again on Jason.
	Scott moved in front of him and Sara. He
pulled a second pistol from his belt and fired
several times up under the chin of the foremost
of the intruders. It tottered for a moment and
then fell back, brackish liquid oozing from its
neck and chin. Another picked up Scott in its claw
and dangled him in the air.
	"NO!" Jason screamed. "Let him go! You're
here for me, not him."
	The being turned on Jason again and tossed
Scott to the floor casually, with a back swing it
lashed out again and sent Jason flying several feet.
He landed heavily, but, as Scott had showed him just
the day before, he flung his legs high into the air
and then brought them down again, using their
momentum to lift his upper body back up.
	One of them now stood over Sara, she was
crouched low in a defensive stance and her hand
lingered on the ceremonial blade at her side. He
vaulted over her back and smashed both of his feet
solidly into the things chest. It staggered back a
few steps and Jason fell heavily next to Sarah. His
shoes sizzled slightly as if they had come in
contact with acid.
	"What are you doing Sara?" he hissed.
	"Shut up Jason, I can take care of myself."
She snapped. "Just get out of here, I'll hold them
off."
	He shook his head. "No, they only want me.
They'll kill anyone who gets in their way."
	"Jason," she growled.
	"Sara," he warned.
	"Fine!" they said together as they sprang to
their feet.
	Jason leapt at the attacker to his right and
pounded his fists against its torso. The black
carapace that encased it dented slightly inwards
under the blows, but his hands felt like they
were on fire. He looked down at them and found a
black chemical coating his knuckles. He wiped
them off on his shirt and it quickly began to eat
through the material.
	Jason dropped to a crouch and swung his foot
out, hoping to knock the feet from under his
attacker. His foot slammed against its calf and
came to a jarring halt. He felt like he'd kicked a
lamppost. He pulled forwards with his foot, hoping
he could at last unbalance it, and caught a tube
that ran along the back of the things leg. He
yanked sharply and the tube disconnected, spewing
thick oil on the ground. The limb went rigid and
Jason scampered away as the thing brought both fists
down onto the stone where he had been lying,
cracking it and causing it to buckle.
	He could hear a whirring of gears as the limb
refused to move and the creature pivoted, swinging
wildly at him. He cast a glance over to Sara who
seemed to be fairing better.
	She had seen the tube disconnect and guessed
that not only did the protective shell not cover
their whole bodies, but the tubes seemed to allow
them to function. Her keen blade slashed at the
carapace, chipping it in places, but causing no
real harm until she sliced through a tube on its
thigh. It spewed vicious oil for a moment and then
the leg shut down. She ducked a swinging claw and
caught sight of a cable hanging just under where its
armpit would have been. She slipped beneath its
reach and brought her sword up, cutting through the
cable. More oil splattered the ground and the limb
whirred and then froze in midair above her head,
claws pointing downwards to impale her.
	She breathed a sigh of relief. "That was close!"
before somersaulting backwards and avoiding the
remaining claw. She recalled Scott's success with
his gun on the throat of the other creature and she
leapt high, holding her blade before her like a
spear. The steel pierced through the unprotected
material and out the other side, stabbing through
another of the arterial pipes. Her momentum carried
both her and the creature toppling over onto the
floor. Red eyes glared back at her from its face
and its mouth opened revealing rows of saw-like
teeth. Ocher pumped out around the blade lodged in
its throat around her and the red eyes faded.
Eventually, all movement of the beast cased and
she struggled to her feet, her front stained by
the oil.
	Sara pulled her sword from the creatures
jugular and turned to find the third. Scott however
was already dealing with it. Having recovered from
his fall, he had leapt onto the back of the creature,
trying to stab it with a hunting knife. Before she
could even offer to help, he managed a slash to its
throat. The being slowed in its movements and then
stopped altogether, crumpling forwards onto the
floor. Scott leapt off it, his clothes smoldering
from the acid on its carapace. Sara looked down
at her own clothes, now speckled with holes and
burn marks.

	Jason's hands felt like he had dipped them in
liquid fire as he danced around the wild stabs of
the last intruder. It was really beginning to piss
him off. He let the anger surge up in him and then
as he saw an opening, lashed out with his foot. His
foot connected with its head and he felt the power
release. Sara gasped in surprise as its head was
knocked clean off and spun to the floor. It rolled
across the ground and out the open hall door. The
body remained standing until Jason delivered a last
lash with his foot to its knee from the side. The
joint snapped and the body collapsed.
	The three looked at each other, panting loudly
after their ordeal. Scott moved off to help get
the rest of the wound into the infirmary to be
tended to while Sara eyed Jason suspiciously.
	"What?" he finally asked once he noticed her
gaze.
	"What's going on Jason?" she asked. "How did
you know they were coming through the windows,
and how did you know they were after you?"
	"I don't know I just-" he began but was cut
short as someone screamed his name from outside.
	"Jason!"
	There was a sickening snap of tendons ripping
and then a scream of agony. It was suddenly cut short
by another loud crack.
	"Come on out Jason! How many of them do I need
to kill before you're ready to play?"
	Sara's face went pale when she heard the voice.
"Jason run." She whispered.
	And he did. He ran.
	He ran past her, snatching the blade from her
hand and dashing towards the door. She shouted for
Scott to stop him, but Jason was already past him
and out the door.

	He dashed past Scott, the blade down, its
point scratching a line on the floor as he ran.
He burst through the door screaming one name in rage.
	"DAAMIIIEEEENN!"

* * *

	"Matthew you have to stop." Ashley told him.
	Matt was sitting on the balcony overlooking
the clouded vista. He remained silent.
	"Matt do you hear me?" she asked. "You have
to stop doing this to yourself. And you can't keep
visiting him."
	Matt grunted.
	"I just got back from having a little talk
with Ophiel. " She said"It's a good thing he likes
me so much. But I'm having a hard time keeping
him from telling Miriam about you little visits to
Jason."
	"So?"
	"So, Matt, if she catches you, she'll strip
you of your wings!" Ashley warned him.
	"Maybe that would be best... if she took my
wings..." he sighed.
	"What? How can you think that?" she looked
at him in shock. "How would you be able to help
Jason then?"
	"I haven't helped him much so far have I?"
he snapped. "I was wrong. I'm an angel and I was
wrong. How could I have been so stupid?!"
	"Love can be a blinding thing," She touched
his shoulder gently.
	He whirled and stood before her. "Look at
me Ashley!" His face was pale and he had dark
circles under his eyes. He shuddered slightly as
his wings sprouted and flowed down his back. The
once pristine plumage was now gray and shabby,
the feathers looking almost wilted.
	Ashley laid her hand against his face.
"You still haven't been able to meditate?"
	Matt shook his head. "Not since..." he
turned back to the balcony and away from her.
"Every time I close my eyes, I see him dying.
Over and over again." He paused and his hand
gripped the marble railing. "I have to find him,
Ash. I have to see him!"

* * *

	Nick Palmer had been late to the opening and
as such had been standing near the back of the
gathering. He had also been one of the first to
make it outside when the attack had begun. He lay
now on the ground just a few feet from the door to
the hall, his right arm and leg bent at odd angles,
numerous claw holes marked them.
	The creatures that attacked him had suddenly
discarded him like a broken doll and raced to the
sides of the building. Shortly after he had heard
the sounds of shattering glass and then a fight
ensuring inside. He wanted to turn and crawl back
into the hall, but his injured limbs refused to
move. The toxins on his attackers claws had seeped
into his blood and he watched in anguish as the
veins around the puncture holes slowly swelled and
blackened. He tried to cry for help but only a
scratchy croak issued forth. The creature had
crushed his larynx.
	Nick turned his head and moaned into the
ground as he tried to lift himself on his uninjured
arm. His arm shook too much and he promptly
collapsed on his side. He looked up to see if
anyone else was nearby to help him. That's when
he noticed the dark flames blossom from the ground
a dozen or so meters from him.
	The flames rose to man-height darkening almost
to black and heavy clangs of metal crashing
resounded through the air, and then a man stepped
out. He wore the same carapace like armor that
Nick's attackers had worn, only edged in blood
red. The black flames diminished and left the man
standing, casting about him with eyes like coals.
	There was a sharp crack from inside the hall
and then a dull rumbling sound of something
approaching. The head of one of the attackers
rolled out the door of the hall, past Nick and came
to rest at the man's feet. He looked at it a moment
and then raised his foot and slammed down. Sparks
flew as the head shattered.
	Nick watched him saunter over to one of his
injured companions and raise him off the ground
by his shirt. The man called over his shoulder
towards the hall, "Jason!"
	He looked at the boy in his grasp and then
grabbed his arm, wrenching it from its socket with
one powerful tug. The boy screamed in agony. The
man sneered at the noise and then snapped his neck
with an audible crack. Nick cringed.
	The man tossed the body aside and faced the
hall again. "Come on out Jason! How many of them
do I need to kill before you're ready to play?"
	Nick heard someone running from inside the
hall and then a shout of rage.
	"DAAMIIIEEEENN!"
	Jason burst from the great doors, knocking
them against the walls as he raced past Nick,
Sara's blade in his hand, angled low to the ground.
As Jason neared Damien, he spun to his right and
slashed the blade at Damien's abdomen.
	Nick had never seen anyone move so fast.
Damien's right hand snapped out and caught the blade
in his bare hand, heedless off the razor edge. Jason
stumbled as the sword was wrenched from his grasp.
Before he could react, Damien whipped his left hand
in his face and Jason flew back, slamming against
the wall of a warehouse.
	But Jason was back on his feet in a flash, he
wiped a trickle of blood from his split lip and then
took a defensive stance. Damien took one look at him
and then threw back his head and laughed heartily.
	"What's this? The cub as teeth?" he scoffed.
"Well, lets see how well you fight then." He tossed
the sword in his hand aside and curled his own
fists.
	The sword clattered to the ground near Nick,
and Jason's eyes followed it. His eyes connected
with Nicks for a moment and then he nodded grimly.
	Jason rolled forwards, snatching up a shard
of twisted metal in his hand and then sprung up
past Damien, slashing with his hand as he did.
He sunk to a crouch behind Damien and pivoted.
"This 'cub' has claws too" he spat.
	Damien turned again to face him, the shard
of metal protruding obscenely form a long gash
along his face. He tugged the shard out, and
dabbed nonchalantly at the black ichors that
oozed from the wound.
	"Very good!" he clapped his hands mockingly.
"I honestly wasn't expecting that from you. You
certainly seemed to have learnt a lot since our
last encounter. However, you are still only
human..."
	Like lightning, Damien was behind him, he
kicked Jason's kneecaps out from under him and
tugged his head back. He sneered down into
Jason's upturned face.
	"...Which means," he continued, "that you
are still bound by the speed of muscle synapses."
	Jason brought his other hand round against
the side of Damien's knee, jamming the sliver of
metal he had concealed in his hand deep into the
leg.
	Damien released his hold on Jason and
stumbled backwards. The leg screeched as the
joint ground against the metal shard.
	"You little shit!" Damien cursed.
	Damien dragged his leg backwards another step
and his foot brushed against Nick's broken arm. He
looked down at the prone boy and a many-toothed
grin split his face.
	"Leave him alone, Damien." Jason called out.
"This is between you and me!"
	Nick chose that moment to grasp the sword in
his still functioning hand and plunged it upwards
through Damien's stomach. It split right through
his back and lodged there. Nick tugged at it
desperately.
	"Oh, well then," Damien looked downwards at
the blade piercing him. "The boy's just sealed
his fate." Damien clenched his abdomen and the
sword shot like a piston out of his body and back
at Nick. Jason heard his ribs crack from where he
was before Nick screamed in pain.
	Jason suddenly felt it again. That switch
inside him. As if a great hand had reached down
and flipped the switch, activating a circuit. His
rage boiled up out of him and manifested itself as
a whirlwind of blazing white fire. It swirled
around Jason, obliterating the world from his view
 and then spun across the gap between Jason and
Damien. It flowed like a maelstrom around Damien.
Flashes of black energy broke the surface of the
blaze and then subsided. The funnel of energies
collapsed in on itself and then exploded outwards
with a shock wave that knocked the walls off the
buildings behind Jason.
	Jason blinked rapidly to clear the large purple
splotches in his vision. He searched for Damien but
found only a greasy patch of blackened ground where
he had stood. His eyes connected with Nick's who
blinked in surprise.
	Nick's hair was standing on end, blown
backwards by the force of the shock wave. But the
wounds that had dotted his torso had healed without
a trace.
	"That was unexpected," he gasped as he stared
back at Jason.
	There were shouts as people ran from inside
the infirmary and lifted Nick onto a stretcher and
took him inside. More people, most with only minor
injuries ran out to combat the fires that were still
burning in the compound. People pushed past Jason
in an effort to get away from the scene. Someone
forced something into his hand as they passed, but
he couldn't see who it was.
	Scott and Sara who had been watching from the
doorway and seen the whole fight emerged more
slowly. Scott stared at Jason openmouthed. A mix of
fear and amazement painted on his face. Sara looked
like she had been hit in the face with a wet towel.
	"Jason? You're a... you're..." she gaped.
	Jason opened his hand and stared at the
crumpled piece of paper that had been pushed into
his hand. He un-crumpled it. It bore a message.

	'I have to see you. There's a town a half-
hour's drive from here. Meet me in The Chopping
Block. It's a bar on the edge of town.
							--M.'

	'M' for 'Matt' Jason thought.
	Scott and Sarah were on either side of him now,
they were both talking, but Jason wasn't listening.
Scott and Sarah each put an arm around him and tried
to carry him back to the infirmary. He planted his
feet.
	"No." he said. "I have to go."
	"You're not going anywhere, buddy" Scott
informed him.
	"NO! Matt's--" Jason tried to explain.
	Sara glared at him. "You're coming inside now"
	Jason looked at her with sad eyes. "I'm
reeaally sorry you guys..." He lifted his legs so
they were supporting his weight for a moment,
before slamming his feet down against the backs of
their calfs. He vaulted up and backwards, flipping
in midair as their legs were shoved from under
them. They hit the ground heavily, stunned. He
hit the ground running and didn't look back.

	Scott helped Sara to her feet. They stared
after Jason.
	"What the fuck?!" She gaped.
	"Don't worry," Scott told her. "He won't
get far on foot and he doesn't have keys to any
of the cars." He patted the chest pocket of his
shirt reassuringly. A look of panic flashed
across his face. He patted it again, then looked
inside. It was empty. "Sonofabitch!"
	Scott had been supporting under the shoulder
and Jason's hand had been hanging down over his
chest... right where the pocket was.

* * *

	Jason found the town, just as the note had
said, half an hour away. The Chopping Block was
likewise easy to find. A large gothic building, it
looked as if it had once been a church, now painted
black and the windows replaced with red glass. In
fact, a sign on the wall read in gold letters,
'Not a church. Get over it.'
	Jason parked Scott's car on the street and
made his way in. It was empty except for the
bartender, but hey, what had he been expecting?
Matt, wings out in all their glory, sitting at a
table sipping a whisky? Not likely.
	Jason took a seat at the bar and sat down
for a wait. After all, the message hadn't said
when they were to meet.

* * *

	"He's a caster?!" Sara was shouting. "Why
the fuck didn't you tell me he was a caster?"
	Her hooded companion seemed nonplussed by her
tone. "I didn't think it was relevant. And mind
your language."
	Sara spluttered. "Not relevant? He's my
brother! I'd say that makes it pretty bloody
relevant." She clenched and unclenched her fists.
"Were you even planning on telling me?"
	"Eventually, perhaps," was the only reply
she got.
	Sarah stared at her compatriot. "There are
reasons we don't train people in both fighting
and casting. Don't you know that? I thought you
were supposed to be omniscient."
	"Supposed. Remember, it's not my bible."
	Exasperated, Sara attempted to explain.
"People can't be both a fighter and a caster at
the same time. They burn out too quickly, or
they make mistakes that kill them and the people
around them."
	The hooded person shrugged. "Jason won't.
I'm confident of that."
	Sara made a sound of contempt. "It's also
incase they grow rampant. That way, they can only
fight or cast, not both."
	Her companion turned away from her and faced
out of the large window. "Perhaps Jason is meant
to 'grow rampant' as you say."
	"What do you mean?" Sara asked. "What is he?"
	"He's... different. That's all you need to
know for now."
	"Well where is he?" She asked desperately.
	Her companion moved towards the door.
	Sara grabbed at a sleeve of the robe. "Where
is my bro--"
	There was a crack of thunder and Sara was
flung back against the wall. She slumped on the
ground and groaned. When she looked up again, her
companion was crouched over her.
	"Do not touch me child. I won't warn you again."
	Sara groaned. "Jason... Where is he?"
	"Jason is fine. He is about to have an
encounter with an old... acquaintance of mine.
He'll be back before sunset, at which time, I would
recommend that you take him home for... What is it
you call it these days? 'Christmas.' And take Scott
with you, the boy has a part yet to play."
	Robes swished across the floor. The door
creaked open and her companion slipped out into
the hall, shutting the door behind.
	"Sara!" Scott shouted as he burst through the
door. He looked wildly about for her and then
spotted her on the floor. He ran to her side and
started to lift her up.
	"I'm fine!" She snarled. She ran to the door
and stuck her head out into the hall. She looked
both ways. It was empty. "Where'd the fucker go?"
she cursed silently.
	Scott joined her at the door and similarly
scanned the hallway. "Who?"
	"The person who left just before you came."
Sara said, looking at him in surprise. "You must
have passed them in the hall."
	Scott shook his head. "Sorry, the hall was
empty. No-one entered or left your the room before
I came."
	She looked about to argue, but then changed
her mind. "Why did you come in here anyway?"
	"I was right, Jason took my car. It'll only
take a little while to find him if we send out an
air patrol though." He informed her.
	"No. Jason's fine... he'll be back before
sunset," she echoed her companions words.
	Sara stepped out into the hall and gestured
for Scott to follow her. She made her way to the
end of the corridor where a security camera was
positioned to monitor the hall. She stood on tiptoe
 and peered into the camera. "Come on," she said
over her shoulder before setting off down the hall.
 "Let's pay the surveillance room a visit. We're
going to get to the bottom of this."
	"Bottom of what?" Scott asked as he trailed
behind her.
	But he received no reply.

* * *

	The bartender, having refused to serve Jason
without an ID had left Jason to using his fingers
to thrumming out the beat of songs playing over the
radio positioned behind the bar.

'Don't be aroused
by my confession
unless you don't give a good god damn
about redemption
I know
Christ is coming
and so am I
and you would to if this sexy devil
caught your eye'

	"Hello Mr. Parker." Someone said in a thick
British accent.
	Jason turned. "Hel--"
 	There was no-one behind him. "-lo..." He looked
around the barroom, but besides the bartender, he
was still the only person there and the bartender
was busy cleaning glasses at the other end of the
bar.
	Someone whistled shrilly and Jason turned
towards the sound. There was an empty bar stool
beside him and then the wall. Something made him
look upwards though, towards the ceiling. He almost
fell out of his chair.
	On the ceiling was perched an upside-down man
with jet-black hair and a open, tanned face. His
black trench coat was spread across the ceiling
around him. He waved jovially at Jason. Jason
looked to the far end of the bar for the bartender,
but he was still busy wiping glasses and seemed not
to have noticed the man crouched defying gravity
above Jason.
	"H-hello?" Jason stared up at him.
	The man pressed his hands up against the
ceiling and then pushed off with his legs,
flipping over so he was hanging as if his hands
were stuck to the ceiling. Then he let go-- from
what, Jason wasn't sure-- and landed comfortable
on the high-stool next to Jason. He extended his
hand to a dumbstruck Jason.
	"Good to see you again Mr. Parker." He said.
	"Sorry?" Jason asked in confusion. "I don't
remember you, and I think I'd remember a man who
crouches on ceilings."
	The man chuckled. "I guess, I look a bit
different from last time, hm?" He gestured as he
spoke. "Leather pants, no shirt, black wings...
ring a bell?"
	Jason's eyes widened in surprise. "You!"
	The man clapped his hands like a happy child
just given a new toy. "Oh you do remember me!"
	Jason frowned. "You're not Matt. Where's Matt?"
	The man looked about him. "Matt? Oh, were you
meeting him here too?"
	"What do you mean 'too'? I don't know you,
why would I be meeting you?" Jason pulled the note
from his pocket. "Matt asked me to meet him."
	The man's face split with a sad smile. "Oh,
my boy, I apologize. I suppose I should have put
my full name, shouldn't I?" Before Jason could stop
him, the man had snatched the crumpled piece of
paper from his hand, and with a metal quill he
produced from his sleeve, he wrote in the rest of
his name and then handed it back to Jason.
	Jason read it over. 'Mephistopheles' it now
read.
	"Yes, very funny Mr. Mephistopheles, a lovely
Faustus reference there, but I'm waiting for Matt,
so if you'd just leave me alone for now..."
	The man made a 'tch' sound. "How rude." Then
he sighed "Damn Marlowe and his bloody play. Honestly,
you tell a story to one play-write, one, and you
never hear the end of it!" Mephistopheles tapped
his fingers on the bar. "So... Jason, is it?" He
asked as if he knew the answer already.
	"Look, I already told you, I'm waiting for
Matt." Jason snapped.
	"I shouldn't keep your hopes up kiddo,
Matthew and his ilk can't get in here."
Mephistopheles gestured at the door.
	Jason turned to observe a patina of runes,
written in something that looked suspiciously
like blood, running around the door frame. They
throbbed gently with an eery red light. Jason
silently wondered how he had missed something like
that when he entered.
	The bartender had by now noticed Mephistopheles
and came over to serve him. "Waddya want?"
	Mephistopheles half-turned to face the man and
put a finger to his lips. "Shh."
	The bartender took on a vacant look, and his
mouth hung slack.
	"'..And the Archangel Michael came down upon
them and they cursed him, and he put his finger to
his lips and bade them be silent...'" Mephistopheles
recited. He turned back to Jason. "That's where that
groove above your lip comes from, you know."
	Jason scowled at him, resigned to the fact
that he had indeed been tricked into meeting this
'Mephistopheles.' "What do you want?" He demanded.
	"Actually, I could use a nice glass of
Southern Comfort right now." He raised his hand
and then paused. "You want something?" he asked
Jason.
	"uh... B-Baileys." Jason stammered.
	Mephistopheles stuck two fingers up and then
twirled his hand in a small circle. There was a
small puff of purple smoke near the bottle of
Southern Comfort behind the bar. A similar one
blossomed out of the air near the refrigerator
underneath the far end of the bar. Out of each
cloud of smoke came, what looked like, a small,
naked, red-skinned person with little wings
sprouting from their backs. One grabbed the bottle
of Southern Comfort and flapping it's wings
strenuously, brought it to Mephistopheles. The
other landed, and tugged open the refrigerator and
rummaged inside, producing a small bottle of
Baileys. Then it too took flight again, hovering
near Jason.
	Mephistopheles reached out his hand and two
of the glasses the bartender had earlier been
cleaning shot up the bar towards them. Jason
pulled his hand back out of the way as they sped
past. They clinked into Mephisopheles' hand and
the two imp-creatures poured their separate drinks
 into each. They set the bottles down on the
counter and then with a wave of his hand,
Mephistopheles banished them in another puff of
purple smoke.
	"Er... thanks." Jason said and slowly took a
sip of his drink.
	Mephistopheles took a sip from his own glass.
"Useful creatures, imps. You can train them to do
practically anything. Trouble is, they aren't born
knowing how to fly, or much else actually. Just
how to annoy."
	Jason looked uneasily at the bartender who
was still standing, open-eyed and openmouthed. He
hadn't even blinked once.
	"Sorry, is he bothering you?" Mephistopheles
asked him. Not waiting for Jason's answer, he
reached across the counter and pushed with a finger
against the mans head. Like a plank of wood stood
on end which suddenly becomes unbalanced, the man
toppled backwards and hit the ground with a heavy
thud. Mephistopheles sat back nonchalantly and
took another gulp from his glass.
	"So..."

* * *

	Sara knocked on the thick glass window that
looked into the surveillance room. The was a buzz
and the a clank as the security door unlocked to
allow her and Scott entrance.
	"Ma'am?" the young woman monitoring the screens
asked.
	"Isabelle, I need you to check out the camera
in the hall outside my room." Sara told her.
	Isabelle tapped furiously away at an expansive
keyboard attached to the chair she was sitting in.
She swiveled around in the chair to face a large
screen that took up most of the wall opposite the
window.
	"Any time in particular?" she asked.
	"Everything in the last half-hour." Sarah
instructed.
	Isoabelle's fingers danced across the
keyboard in an intricate pattern and the screen
was suddenly filled with the view from the
camera outside Sara's room. She looked to Sara
for further instructions.
	"Fast-forward until I enter my room."
	The numbers in the corner of the screen
raced upwards and people shot up and down the
corridor. Someone opened Sara's door and went in.
	"OK, play it from there."
	They watched as several minutes ticked past.
Then a second person came to Sara's door and
opened it.
	"Freeze it." Sara told her.
	Isabelle paused the camera. The three of
them looked at the person entering her room.
	"That's me." Scott said.
	"Yes. Isabelle, play it backwards slowly
from there."
	The image of Scott closed the door and moved
backwards up the hall, the way he had come.
Otherwise however, the hall was empty. Sara frowned.
	"Were you looking for something in particular?"
Isabelle asked her.
	"I'm not sure..." Sara pursed her lips. "Half
the current play speed and go from there."
	Not entirely sure what this was all about,
Isabelle did as she was asked.
	Sara barely saw it. Her door opened about an
inch and then closed again. She asked Isabelle to
play it again.
	"It's probably just an anomaly on the film,"
she told Sara.
	"No, reduce the speed further and play it
again."
	They watched as this time, the door opened
fully for a moment and then closed again.
	"Can you slow it down even more?" Sara asked,
now leaning on Isabelle's chair.
	"I can try," Isabelle told her, "but it's
going to be choppy. This camera wasn't really
designed to record things at this speed."
	The screen flashed frame by frame the image
of Sara's door. It opened and closed without
explanation and then a sudden blur appeared before
the door, moving down the corridor away from an
approaching Scott.
	"I-I don't understand..." Isabelle stammered.
	"What?" Scott asked. "What is that blur? A
person?"
	Isabelle shook her head. "That's impossible.
Nothing can move that fast. It's not physically
possible."
	"What do you mean?" Scott asked her again.
	Isabelle pointed at the numbers at the bottom
of the screen. "That's in milliseconds there.
Whatever it is, is moving faster than the speed of
sound. Much faster. Something like that would have
created a sonic-boom that would have knocked you
down the hall and shattered the stone walls."
	Sara had moved forwards and was peering at
the screen. She pointed out an area of the screen.
"Can you zoom in on that?"
	Isabelle's fingers danced again and area Sara
had indicated was enlarged 'till it filled the
screen. The outline of a hooded figure was just
recognizable.
	"Sonofa bitch." Sara cursed.
	The area where the face of the hood would
have been was blocked out with white light, as
if a flash had gone off.

* * *

	"Where is Matt?" Jason suddenly demanded.
	"I told you, it was me who gave you that
message. I'm the one you came to meet here,"
Mephistopheles sighed. "For all I know, or care
for that matter, Matt is probably up in Heaven
with that girl of his."
	Jason felt his heart sink. "What g-girl?"
he stumbled over the word. Matt had told him he
was gay-- hadn't he?
	Mephistopheles waved his hand as if searching
for something. "A-somethingrather... Ashley I
think. That angel girl." He looked at Jason's
shocked face. "Oh, Matt didn't tell you about
her? Hm, perhaps I've said to much."
	Jason stared hard at the mirror behind the
bar and fought the lump in his throat.
	This is almost too easy, Mephistopheles
thought. Oh well, at least he was having better
luck that Damien had ever had.
	To keep his mind off the possibilities of
what Matt and this 'Ashley' were doing up in
Heaven, Jason studied his companion in the mirror.
His mind flashed back to the few moments when he
had seen him before, standing on a spire of rock
overlooking a seemingly endless field of iron and
steelworks. Jason blinked and realized
Mephistopheles was staring back at him through the
mirror. His eyes were black, like bottomless pits.
	Jason quickly turned back and faced his
drinking partner. "So you're a demon?"
	"Aht--" Mephistopheles raised his hand to
interrupt him. "Not a demon, a Fallen Angel. Very
different."
	"Wait, you're one of the originals? One of the
ones who rebelled with the Devil and were cast from
Heaven?" Jason asked, mocking slightly.
	"Well, I don't like to brag..."
	"Why are you British then?" Jason queried.
	Mephistopheles grinned a white smile. "I'm not.
Remember, I was born in a time before the angels
came down and messed with everyone's heads. You
know, Tower of Babel and all that." He gestured
absently. "I speak the true language, it's your
mind that makes me sound British."
	Mephistopheles took a nut from a small dish
on the counter. He popped it into his mouth and
grimaced before spitting it back out onto the floor.
He scooped a handful out of the dish and turned them
over in his palm. He raised his index finger of his
other hand before his mouth and blew on it. A red
flame sprung from his finger tip.
	Jason looked on, uneasily as Mephistopheles
stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth,
like a child concentrating and aimed his index
finger at the nuts in his palm. The tiny flame on
his finger blazed like a flame-thrower over his
hand and the nuts. The flames let up and he blew
out the tip of his finger. He popped a nut into
his mouth and crunched happily.
	"Roasted almond?" He offered Jason.
	Jason edged slightly away from him and
politely declined. Jason looked to the closed door.
"You're not going to let me go are you?"
	"Not yet." Mephistopheles said between nuts.
As if to emphasize his point, the pool table skidded
across the room and flipped on end before smashing
against the wall, completely blocking the door.
	"Are you going to kill me?" Jason asked him
calmly.
	Mephistopheles laughed heartily. "I'm not like
Damien."
	"You didn't answer my question," Jason
persisted.
	Mephistopheles turned and fixed him with his
black eyes. "Do you want me to answer it?"
	A moment of silence passed between them.
	"Didn't think so." Mephistopheles said and
popped another almond into his mouth.
	"So then you admit that Damien is working for
you to kill me?"
	"Did I say that?"
	Jason paused. "Well, no but--"
	"Indeed, Damien was once in our service. As
Sara told you, he was also once in the service of
Heaven."
	Jason started. "How did you know Sara told me
that?" He thought back to that night in the hotel.
What else had Sara said? He tried desperately to
remember. Had it all been true?
	"Hell keeps a close eye on the few mortals who
hold significant interest in the fate of the world.
Also, I think Lucifer rather took a liking to
you..." Mephistopheles commented before refilling
his glass.
	"But I've never met--" Jason started.
	Mephistopheles cut him off again. "Oh, the
bible is constantly going on about how God is
omni-this and omni-that. The church prefers for
people not to know that Lucifer isn't just a Fallen
Angel. He's the anti-God. That doesn't just mean
he's not 'good' like God is." Mephistopheles spat
on the ground. "Lucifer is just as omni as the Big
Guy ever was. You can find them both in most things
if you look hard enough."
	Jason thought this over for a moment. "So then
Damien's like you? He's a Fallen Angel?"
	Mephistopheles threw his glass against the wall
and burst into pieces. "Damien is nothing like me.
We Fallen Angels kept our wings. We bear their
blackened forms with pride. Oh no, Damien had his
removed. He's less even than a demon. All he ever
did in Hell was spend his time replacing bits of
himself with metal and working on ways to 'perfect'
his body." He snarled angrily.
	Jason moved his arm just in time for the glass
that came hurtling up the bar to miss him. It slid
to a halt before Mephistopheles and he filled it
again with Southern Comfort.
	Something struck Jason as odd. Mephistopheles
kept referring to things that angels had done, but
he was sure that in the bible, it was God who had
intervened at the Tower of Babel. And
Mephistopheles had said 'was.' 'As the Big Guy
ever was.'
	"Is God dead?" Jason asked quietly, almost
fearful of the answer.
	Mephistopheles spluttered into his drink.
"'Is-is God dead?'!" He looked at Jason. "You're
serious, aren't you?"
	Jason nodded slowly.
	Mephistopheles set down his drink and exhaled
slowly. "Boy, you really do need to talk to Matthew
more."
	"Well sorry, but we haven't had much time of
late," Jason snapped. He didn't really feel like
going into detail with this still-stranger about
the state of his relationship with Matt.
	Mephistopheles frowned and then repeated,
almost to himself, "Is God dead?" He drew a breath.
"Well, that's a more complicated question then you
might think. Firstly, what do you mean by 'God'? Do
you mean, Christianity, Judaism, Islam and all the
rest, God being a generalization of religion? Do
you mean God out of the Bible? The ideal of God?
Or perhaps you mean the Supreme Creator? Hm?"
Mephistopheles paused.
	Jason open his mouth to speak, "No, I just--"
	"Secondly," Mephistopheles spoke over him.
"What do you mean by 'dead'? Nonexistent? Deceased?
Forgotten? It really isn't that simple you see."
	"No, I just meant, well..." Jason looked
thoughtful for a moment. "It's just that you keep
referring to God in the past tense, and saying
angels did the things the Bible says God did, and
 if God were around, then why does Heaven have a
ruling council?"
	Mephistopheles knocked back the rest of his
drink in one glass and stood. "All perfectly decent
questions that have perfectly decent answers, but--"
Mephistopheles pushed up the sleeve of his coat and
looked at his wrist. "My my, would you look at the
time?"
	Jason frowned. "You're not wearing a watch."
	"An excellent point, the powers of observation
you humans have never cease to amaze me. But really
I must be going. Besides, if I told you, you'd never
believe me. Fallen Angels are viewed as so much less
trustworthy than angels. Mind you have a chat with
Matt about it, hm?"
	Jason stood, pushing the stool backwards. "So
you're not going to kill me after all?"
	Mephistopheles paused in straightening his coat
and seemed to toy with the idea for a moment. "No.
No, I don't think I will. You're more interesting
alive." He pulled a black disk from the sleeve of
his coat. With a furl he whipped it through the air
and the center popped up forming a brimmed hat. He
placed in on his head. "Now then, I really must be
going. Sinners to punish and innocents to tempt and
all that," he waved absently, "besides, I hear
there's a good performance of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus
in London and I do so love seeing how they represent
me."
	Mephistopheles moved back from the bar a few
steps. "'Hasta la vista, baby!'" He chuckled, "ah,
cracks me up every time. Ta!" He waved and then,
like a television that's had it's cable suddenly
unplugged, his image collapsed in on itself and he
vanished.
	Jason jumped as the pool table that had been
jammed against the door suddenly slammed to the
ground and skidded across the room to where it had
originally been. He exhaled deeply. "That was..."
	He was interrupted by Mephistopheles' head,
which popped seemingly out of a pocket of air into
existence before him. "By the way, I'd hurry back
to Sara now. I made a promise to an old acquaintance
that I'd have you back by sunset, which gives you
roughly half an hour." The head cocked its self to
the side as if listening. "Also, the bartender is
about to wake up, and I have a feeling he won't be
pleased about the damage to his door," the head
looked to the bar, "or the drinks we helped
ourselves to. I'm guessing he won't be too thrilled
about being knocked out either."
	Then the head vanished again.
	A deep groan issued from behind the bar.
	Jason didn't waste another second. He ran out
the door and into Scott's car. A screech of tires
and he was out of the parking lot and on the road
back to the compound. Back to Sara. Back to
questions. And hopefully, back to Matt.

* * *

	Ok, so Damien's still out there causing
mischief, but if he's not in the service of Heaven,
and he's not in the service of Hell, then just who
is he working for? For his part, Jason's still
changing, but neither he nor anyone around him
seems to have any idea what's going on. As for the
next chapter, will Sara find out who her mystery
companion is? Will Matt find Jason? What part has
Scott got to play? Will they be home in time for
Christmas? And perhaps most importantly, just how
long am I going to make you wait for the next
chapter?
	To coin a phrase, 'all perfectly decent
questions that have perfectly decent answers,' but
you're not getting them now, so ner! This chapter
featured a song called Rev 22:20 by A Perfect
Circle. As ever and always, comments and questions
should be sent to ArchangelMatthew72@Hotmail.com