The Devil's Beloved, a Steamy MM Fantasy Romance (part six)

Che la belleza infiora

Blarg is out on a date with a woman he met at one of his reptile enthusiast meetings. I asked for details, trying to learn more of his new paramour, but he simply shrugged and said,

“She likes my tusks, she said they remind her of a Heterodontosaurus.” Upon seeing my blank expression, he explained it was a long extinct giant reptile that once existed in the human world. As he described the animal, I thought,

So there WAS a time when full-size dragons lived within this realm.

Blarg put a great deal of effort into preparing for the evening, repeatedly pressing his shirt collar until it was to his liking. Occasionally, he'd offer Agatha a bit of kale from his pocket. The worried look on his face made me wonder if he was concerned she might get jealous over the presence of another woman.

But then, alas, he left, leaving us alone with Agatha. She turned her hateful gaze upon me, puffed up her neck sack, and rushed towards me. I tried to appease her with lettuce, but she ignored my offering, darting at me with obvious violent intent. I reacted in what I believed was the most reasonable fashion: by locking myself and Stinksnort in the bathroom.

As I dictate today’s tale, I'm crushed up next to the toilet with an angry lizard hissing at me from the other side of the door.

***

Hell’s ocean circled the borders of the underworld. Its waters were as black as coal, with a strong, salty smell that hung heavily in the air. Man-shaped things covered in scales and far too many tentacles swam deep within its depths. The skies overhead sprawled outward into an endless, starless void.

The angels sat down on the sand. Satan pulled a bottle from his robe, offering it to Tzyeriel, who took a few long swigs before handing it back. Satan finished the rest in a series of gulps and carelessly tossed it over his shoulder. He decided to throw caution to the wind and brought out their last bottle.

The angels passed it back and forth. As the wine worked its magic, Satan stumbled to his feet, gazed at his beloved, and in a voice that would have put the greatest opera singer to shame, sang a snippet from La Traviata:

Libiamo, libiamo ne'lieti calici,

Che la belleza infiora.

E la fuggevol ora s'inebrii

A voluttà.

Libiamo ne'dolci fremiti

Che suscita l'amore!

Tzyeriel clapped enthusiastically. His lover took a bow and drunkenly toppled headfirst into the sand. He rolled over, spat out a mouthful of dust, and started laughing. Tzyeriel happily joined in.

Satan pulled him closer. They lay in the sand for a time, enjoying each other's company. Satan felt himself overcome by a powerful emotion, and said,

"Tzyeriel, I think... I think I'm in love with you." After a brief pause, he added,

"No, I know I'm in love with you. It's a feeling I've never experienced before, but I'm certain that's the only word that describes it." Tzyeriel smiled at him, not entirely sure how to respond.

Finally, he brought Satan closer and kissed him. They knew their night of joy would soon come to an end, but were grateful to spend it together.

***

Barachiel woke up in the infirmary. One of the nurses noticed he'd regained consciousness. The head nurse Hasdiel soon arrived to give Barachiel a look-over. After completing the examination, he said,

"Hadraniel mentioned you fainted after talking to one of Abaddon's locusts." Barachiel nodded glumly. The nurse continued,

"You have no obvious signs of trauma, so I must assume it was the message that caused your reaction." Barachiel began weeping. Hasdiel asked,

"If it wouldn't be too traumatizing, do you think you could share the message with me?" Barachiel looked at the nursing staff and replied,

"I... I don't want to mention the details in front of them. It's embarrassing enough just sharing with you." Hasdiel nodded and motioned for his assistants to leave the room. The minor angels complied and headed out, shutting the door behind them.

Barachiel tearfully relayed the message to Hasdiel. Moments later, the angelic orderlies waiting outside heard a loud thud. They opened the door to investigate, and found both angels passed out. They stared at each other momentarily before going to find help.

Raphael, Heaven's chief physician, was busy patching up a wounded soldier. The nurses rushed into the operating room and exclaimed,

"Sir, we're sorry to bother you, but Hasdiel and Barachiel are unconscious, we haven't any idea what to do!" Raphael, concerned, asked,

"What happened?

They recounted the story of Abaddon’s messenger, and how whatever the insect had said was so shocking it had caused even high-ranking angels to faint on the spot.

Raphael handed his patient off to a member of his team and accompanied the nurses to Barachiel's room. Upon arrival, he examined the angels and concluded it must have been the insect's words that caused their reaction.

He was deeply worried. If Abaddon had reached out to them, something cataclysmic must have occurred. It was vital to figure out a way to extract the message safely.

An idea came to him. Based on what he’d seen, he concluded most angels would probably faint upon hearing the message. He’d have to send in an angel who could withstand hearing anything without having the slightest reaction. He sighed. There was one among their kind who fit the bill, but...

Raphael told the nursing staff to summon the angel. When they heard his command, the minor angels begged him to reconsider, but Raphael had so much work to do he couldn't afford to go himself.

In the end, they drew straws, and hugged the one who lost as if they might never see him again. The unlucky angel, shaking with fear, flew off to contact the most terrifying figure in all of Heaven.

It was a few hours before the frightened nurse stumbled back into the medical offices. The other nurses rushed him off into a small room, quickly locking the door behind them. They turned to their friend and asked,

"Did you... is he...?"

He nodded. They gasped, and huddled together like a den full of scared rabbits.

At that moment, the front doors of the hospital flew open. In walked Azrael, the angel of death.

To all outward appearances, he seemed like a normal angel, at least as far as his robes and wings were concerned. It was his face, however, that indicated his true nature. While his countenance was as flawless as that of his brothers, there was no light behind his eyes, no warmth, no mirth, not even anger. He was an empty void; a shell of a thing, made for only one terrible purpose.

As he wandered through the building, the angels in his path ran away as fast as they could. Even the bravest warriors shrunk before him. His touch was instantly fatal to anything he came in contact with, even his own kind.

Raphael saw him coming down the hall, and shouted from afar,

"We require an angel like you!" Azrael mechanically replied,

"Who am I to kill?" Raphael shook his head vehemently and said,

"We don't need you to kill anybody. We only want you to listen to a message and relay it to us in the simplest fashion possible." Azrael paused for several moments, and replied,

"Why am I necessary for this task? Any angel can hear and repeat a message. My services are not required." Raphael sighed and explained,

"It’s too difficult for the rest of us to process, but you have just the right temperament for this task." Azrael turned his head slightly as if he were trying to get a better view of the doctor and said,

"Tell me how to complete the assignment." Raphael nodded and explained what the frightening angel needed to do.

***

Six hours passed. Agatha refused to leave her position. I saw her shadow scurrying about beneath the bathroom door frame.

I was so very hungry. Stinksnort had eaten the last of the soap bars hidden under the sink, until he reeked of orange rind and lavender.

The apartment door creaked open. I heard Blarg’s unmistakable tenor as he cheerily called out,

"Agatha! I'm home!"

She responded with a joyful hiss. Footsteps approached the bathroom. The door swung open. Blarg stared at me while I was gnawing on Stinksnort’s leg. He was carrying a takeout bag. I dropped my servant’s appendage, desperately lunging at the bag and tearing into its contents…

Excuse me, I must say something to my minion Stinksnort.

Dear little goblin, know that I shall never forget your willingness to take dictation, even as I attempted to eat you.