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He snatched the pen away, and took a loose peice of paper from the table.

            He took a few deep, hurried breaths, poising the pen as though to stab the paper with it viciously. Penemue backed away, and sat down in his chair, pushing it backwards until it was against the far wall. He watched, not daring to stop the crazed fellow, wondering what he would do. He watched as Raz did nothing, but simply stood still, slowing his breathing until it was normal again. Pen relaxed.

            Razael closed his eyes for a moment, sorted his thoughts out, and then opened them again. He put the pen to the paper, and scrawled down, quickly, but not hurriedly, “If anyone comes across this, give it immediately to your superior. This is an important message from Razael to Samael. I need help.” He thought about repeating the phrase “I need help” again, but it wasn’t a radio broadcast, he reminded himself. They would just read it twice and think he was an idiot. Then he thought about writing something like “thank you for your cooperation,” but that sounded equally idiotic, so instead he put the pen back, and left the peice of paper where he was. Now what? He looked up at the demon in the corner of the room.

            Pen looked back, glad that the creature was not fuming anymore. He hadn’t seent he wrath of a demon, or an angel for that matter, for a very long time. Now he knew why he’d left Hell to begin with. Some of them just didn’t belong on Earth. He decided it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to announce that right now. He felt like asking, meekly, what had happened, but instead sat silent. He didn’t want to get Razael worked up again, and anyhow he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.

 

            Monty had gathered the others. He’d woken them up calmly, methodically, and told them to follow him. He didn’t say anything more than that, although he knew they would beleive him if he did. It still sounded too crazy to his own ears, his mind. None of them wanted to accept it, and they knew it. So they sat, gathered, in the room, all knowing that something was terribly amiss. It did not go unnoticed that Jocelyn was not present (except, perhaps, by Plant), but none of them said a thing about it. None of them said anything at all, in fact, until Razael came through the door with a somewhat exhausted looking Penemue behind him. He locked the door, and turned around again.

            Razael didn’t sit down, but instead paced around the room as he spoke, as though he were rallying his troops for war. “You all have been great aides to me, and my daughter. But now is when she needs help the most. She’s being stolen, by the enemy. I don’t know why, and I don’t know where she is. I do know that to get to heaven she would have to die, so she must still be here. They wouldn’t kill her... and even if they did, there would be a body. We must find her. And we will. Then we will punish those who stole her from her family.” He looked at his human friends, the other demon raising an eyebrow at the last spoken word. Razael was the only celestial creature with any concept of family, he realized, and then shook his head. Angels did not understand, so he would need his humans to help him most.

            The humans all just looked at him, and then looked at each other. Had they just gotten a war speech? A battle plan, even? They tried to work it out in their heads, and got nowhere. No one said anything for an uncomfortably long time. Raz just kept staring at them, as if he was waiting for them to sprout wings, swords, and armour, and magically just know where the little girl had gone.

            Finally, just because no one else seemed to be planning to say anything ever again, Alara spoke. “So... how exactly are we supposed to find her?”

            “We don’t need to find her. We need to find an angel or two, and ask them where she is. They are everywhere. They have to be. We just need to find them,” Raz said. They looked at him for a moment, then slowly shifted their gazes to Penemue, as though he was needed to back up the statement.

            He shrugged. “Yeah, they have to be around, but we do make it sort of a business to hide from each other, you know? And they have all the connections...”

            Raz shook his head. This was hopeless. “I need to think.  You all need to sleep. Sleep here.” A few small beds sprouted from the floor like daisies. Georgie poked at one, as though to make sure they were actually solid, and then, upon approving, sat on it.

            Raz motioned for Pen to follow him, and went to the little room with the crib in it. Jocelyn’s room. He heard as he left someone grumbling about how he should have just waited until morning to wake them in the first place, but paid it no mind. He was used to the humans’ whining, by now.

            Penemue folded his arms, and sat on a chair low to the ground, while Razael leaned against the crib. He put his head in his hands.

            “Lets lay things out,” Penemue reminded him. He was used to reminding students of this tactic when they got confused. It was a talent demons were born with, not to get attached to the subject, but to figure out the problem instead.

            “Yes,” Raz said. Then he looked at him.

            “Tell me exactly what  happened, just the facts,” Pen said, knowing that this would help in the process of figuring everything out. It always did.

            “I came out of her room from laying her down to bed,” Raz started, “And Michael was sitting on my couch. He didn’t have any weapons, but he was wearing that stupid pretty-boy breastplate.”

            “Just the facts, now,” Pen said.

            “Yes. Well, then we spoke, and she was gone. That quickly. She was gone, and he made a statement to imply that he had her.”

            “So what can we do?”

            “We can find an angel?”

            “And how do you find an angel when they do not want to be found?”

            Raz shrugged. “Churches?” He winced involuntarily upon saying the word. No demon liked churches, that much was plainly obvious. It wasn’t that there was so much worship going on, or that they were such holy places. It was the dead Jesuses everywhere. Penemue nodded, as though to say that it was their only choice, and Raz protested. “But how do we know which one is which?”

            “We ask them silly questions, of course.”

            “But tomorrow is Wednesday.”

 

            Church didn’t start until late, apparently, so they all slept in and laid out a plan of action. Penemue and Razael sat and thought of questions that only angels would know the answer to, by trying to think of things that they knew which humans did not. They had written everything they could think of down in a little notebook that Georgie got from his apartment. Usually he used it for recipes and ‘to-do’ lists, but he supposed this was as good a use as any. They had written on the paper a ton of suggestions, but only one really stuck out as something that humans would answer primarily one way, while angels would answer the other way.

            The question was, “Would you rather have love, or loyalty?” It wasn’t fail-proof, but it was pretty close to it. Raz circled this question, and showed all the humans. Everyone who answered, “loyalty,” was supposed to be pulled aside and then would be questioned further, to make sure they weren’t an angel, and if they were, then they’d actually have to figure out what to do with them next.

            Penemue and Razael didn’t say so out loud, but they both knew that they were demons, and that some sort of torture technique was expected. The humans probably didn’t have to be involved in that, though, especially if their little note to hell got a response fairly soon. They all ate, and then attempted to dress up decently, and piled into Monty’s car to make one of the local evening services.

            Of course, the humans would pick the church with the biggest, most horrifying Jesus there was. It was a huge wooden carving of dead Jesus on the cross (wasn’t it always), and there were little carved people escaping from his stomach. He looked down at everyone with gloomy, dark eyes, succeeding in making the demons as uncomfortable as they had ever been. They made sure to sit in the opposite corner, as far away from them as they could get.

            The humans didn’t seem to be bothered. Perhaps they were immune to such horrors.

            The service started, and a tall fellow came up and started jabbering on. There was singing, standing up, sitting down, more singing, more shifting positions. At least there wasn’t any kneeling involved. At a few points, the man stopped talking, and the rest of the people continued, obviously having memorized the responses to his words. The demons didn’t figure out that the words were written on little pamphlets, and the humans were only confused at first. Plant didn’t even try to bother with it.

            At the end of the service, everyone was invited to stay and have some coffee and hot spiced cider, and eat some cake. No one seemed to know the reason or source of the cake, but everyone ate it anyways.

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 He simply nodded, and took the key, wondering what he was getting himself into. He didn’t have to ask why they might be fighting, he foresaw the situation just as Raz did, but he just didn’t want to think about it. He looked down at the key in his hand, and then back up at the demon before him. “Do you think they will really pick a fight over this?”

            “I don’t know, but any real warriors of good and smiters of evil aren’t going to let her live in peace, let alone us,” he replied. “They might not do anything for years, though, so don’t get yourself all worked up over it.” Raz patted his friend sternly on the shoulder, and found himself hoping that he would be alright. He’d screwed everything up, for the little one, himself, and maybe Hell in general. He wondered if he’d gone a step too far in creating life here. Looking down at her, though, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

            It seemed to Razael that he had simply blinked, one day, and Jocelyn was suddenly standing before him, at two years old. She talked in full sentences, and he already was beginning to see that she would have to be home-schooled. Penemue worked with her on a regular basis, on letters, numbers, and of course the uses of her powers. She could control fire, send her father telepathic messages, and the little nubs on her back were growing slowly into what he guessed would be wings. He kept concentrated on them, so that they would not be seen by others, just as others could not see his own wings.

            “Daddy?” she said, pulling at his pantleg.

            “Yes, sweetie?” Raz replied. A year ago he would have hit himself as he was now. He used words like ‘sweetie’ on a regular basis, and had become rediculously content with this life. He took classes, still had his human friends, and was essentially as emmersed in human culture as any of the other Earth-dwelling demons. What was worse was that he enjoyed it.

            “Can we go for a walk?”

            He put down the book he was reading. “Well, I suppose we can.”

            “I’m glad you suppose that,” said the little one, who didn’t have any internal monologue.

            He got up, and made sure to put a coat on her, as it was a little snowy outside. They walked along the sidwalk, holding hands. Every so often she would bounce away to knock the snow off of a bush, but otherwise she stayed close at his side, shying away from all the strangers they passed. “Why can’t I make magic tricks around other people? Penemue said not to.”

            “Because, well, people would be scared. No one else can do things like that.”

            “Oh,” she replied. She was silent for a little while, then. But after a bit, she asked another question. “Why would they be scared if I’m not hurting them?”

            “People are afraid of what they do not know about. They wouldn’t be sure how or why you were doing things.”

            “Even if I was just playing?”

            “Yes, my dear. Even if you were laughing and telling them that it was all a joke, they wouldn’t beleive you.”

            “Okay,” she said, and left the subject at that.

            Raz thought that he must be incredibly lucky to have such a good listener. She bounded away from him again, her long, dark hair flowing behind her as she leapt over to an especially tall shrubbery and cleaned it off roughly. Then she came running back, laughing, as if it were some sort of race, the bright red in her eyes glowing beautifully. He smiled to see her playing, glad that she found that she could still be a child, and enjoy things.

            Really, it took work sometimes, to get her to stop thinking so much, and to just have fun. Raz slowly began to remember peices of his own childhood, of his own mother doing the same thing for him. With all the lessons and teaching and thinking and studying, it was always she who had taken him away from it, and who would play games with him. He smiled to remember her, wondering what she would have thought of him now. He looked up, as though she was in the snow falling from the clouds. “Am I doing things right?” he asked her.

            He didn’t expect a response, of course, and he didn’t get one. The pair continued on their walk, turning and going back home when they got to the library. He found that he was glad to be back inside once they got home. Fire he was used to, but snow was something altogether different, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever really accept it. However, the little girl could have played all day out in the cold, if he had let her, and had often begged to be allowed to do so.

            Razael curled up with the little girl on the couch, wrapping them both in a warm blanket. They made popcorn and watched a disney movie – something he’d never thought he would do. By the time it was over, she had fallen asleep. It didn’t matter, since she’d seen all of her favourite movies about a dozen times. He carried her to bed, and tucked her in. She didn’t stir.

            When he came back out to the living room, he was somewhat alarmed to see a white-winged creature relaxing on his couch. The fellow’s hair was so golden that it seemed to light the room up a bit. He wore a decorative silver breastplate, and had shining blue eyes. “You can’t have her,” Raz told him simply.

            Michael raised his eyebrows, and gave him a smile. It wasn’t a friendly smile, but more like a ‘joke’s on you’ smile. “What, you don’t think I already do?”

            Raz spun around and ran back into the little girl’s room. There was her pink border, her teddy bear lamp, her toys, her bed, her blankets. The bed wasn’t made, the sheets were strewn about, but she wasn’t there. No one was there.

            Forgetting about the swords he had stored away, Razael ran back out to the living room, sure that he could strangle Michael with his hands, if he really needed to. Was this an angelic thing to do? Was it really? He entered the room, and stopped, as there was nowhere to go. Nothing to do. No one in sight.

            Razael punched the couch where the celestial creature had been sitting, and heard the sound of breaking wood. He flew out of the apartment, and in the next instant was shaking Monty out of bed.

            Monty awoke with a feeling in his stomach like the worst flu he’d ever had. At first he couldn’t identify the source of the feeling, but then he realized that he was absolutely horrified. If he hadn’t just taken a piss, he would have lost control of himself. There was someone over him, dark, with eyes that burned. Not shined brightly, not glimmered in the light. There wasn’t light for them to glimmer in. They were burning like fire burned. “Get up,” said a great voice, an inhuman voice. He almost wretched.

            Raz turned the light on, and went over to shake the boy again. “Get up. Get our friends, and bring them back to my apartment.”

            Monty realized as the light flicked on that he was looking at Razael, his friend. He knew who he really was, what he really was, but somehow he had still managed to push it out of his mind. They all treated the fellow like someone from another country, whose family and cultures are different, and who must be taught the ways of life. He wasn’t treated like he’d grown up, quite literally, in Hell. They just didn’t think of him as a demon. And Monty probably never would have, because angels, demons, and humans seemed much the same to him. Except, apparently, when they were angry.

            No further convincing was needed, Monty jumped out of bed, dressed as quickly as he could, and ran out of his apartment, shaking Plant along the way. He could hardly speak well enough to get the others up, and everyone saw that this must be serious.

            Razael used his massive amounts of energy to turn himself into a bird. He flew out of the window, and went as quickly as his little wings would take him to Penemue’s house. He landed in the room full of books, where Penemue sat, studying this or that, and when the demon looked up to see the bird, he recognized him instantly. “What’s the matter?” he asked the bird.

            The bird transformed, and then replied, “Is there any way to contact the other demons on Earth? Any at all?”

            Penemue thought for a moment. “No, not the ones on Earth.” He picked up a particular pen, and wiggled it. “But I can write a note to Hell, if you’d like.”

            Raz lurched forward, and Penemue made as if to dodge him. He snatched the pen away, and took a loose peice of paper from not too far away.

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Georgie considered this a moment. Alara spoke before he could get another question out. “So what exactly do you have to do to get into heaven? Or, not do, rather?”

            Raz thought it was a stupid question with an obvious answer. “Its not what you do, its what you pick. Like, would you rather go where all your friends are, or where you get to worship all day?”

            “What about...” Plant started another question, but Raz could see where this was going, and cut them off there.

            “Listen,” he began, “the whole thing is simple. There is heaven, there is hell. Just like There’s America, and there’s Canada. And who can say which is worse or better, right or wrong? They are just labels, and one just happens to be above the other. There is only different, when you think about it. Other than that, I’m as much in the dark about things as you are.”

            They continued eating, and when they were done, Raz ordered them an entire cobbler, not entirely sure why he was doing so. The more he explained to these humans, the more it all made sense, somehow. Suddenly, he was painfully aware that Samael probably had some sort of deal with God, and was just playing a role in things. After he was done playing that role... then what would happen? He hoped breifly that he’d get his old place back up there, just to shock the shit out of Michael. Razael smiled at himself.

            “So is your name really Raz then?” asked Alara.

            “Well, yeah. Razael is the whole thing.”

            “You don’t have a last name?” Plant said, looking confused.

            “Mm, no, none of us do. We don’t really have families, we’re all just individuals, so there’s no reason to associate ourselves with one another,” he answered.

            Monty thought about this, and then leaned forward, questioning the subject further. “If you don’t have families, then how is Satan your dad? And who is your mom anyhow? I’ve never heard of a queen of hell...”

            Razael was getting sick of questions. “Well, I have a Dad, but I’m the only one. And my mom isn’t in hell.”

            Thankfully, the cobbler came then, hot out of the oven. The waitress had given him a confused look when he’d ordered it, and now placed it in the center of the table, looking at him for approval, as though maybe he hadn’t been entirely sure what he was ordering. He smiled and thanked her, and she smiled back and left, shyly. He watched her go, thinking that she would look much better if she weren’t in that silly outfit.

            They managed to finish the entire cobbler, to everyone’s amazement. Raz and Monty ate the vast majority of it, and the other two had a peice each. Jocelyn started to stir, then when back to sleep again. “Is it bad that she sleeps so much?” asked Monty. Raz was glad he’d asked. He was afraid that this was one of those things he was supposed to know the answer to.

 

            They all decided it was time to go, and each went to their own places, whether it was work or home or elsewhere, leaving Raz alone with Jocelyn again. Comfortably in his house, the two of them looked at each other, and occasionally Razael talked to the baby, wondering what she would say if she could talk. Probably “food”, he guessed. He had discovered that she didn’t like being put down when she was awake, so now he sat on the couch with her upright, leaning against his chest. There was another knock at the door.

            He was beginning to enjoy this alone time with his daughter – he’d even begun to really start thinking of her as belonging to him. His daughter. Now someone else had to come into things. “Come in,” he yelled, thinking that it must be someone he knew. Penemue came in, a little meekly, shut the door, and stood in front of it, without saying anything. He looked up at the angel, then down at the floor again.

            “Your an idiot,” Raz stated simply, but not very harshly.

            “Yes. I am. More than you know,” said the smaller creature. He shook his head, and walked in, sitting down in the available chair. “I did something stupid.”

            “I know, Samael already visited me.”

            “Yeah. You know that pen? Well, I didn’t know that it copied everything to hell. But... well...”

            Raz rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Its not that bad, really. I’d have killed  you already if things had gone badly with him.”

            “Its not that,” the demon said frankly. Raz only raised his eyebrows, as if to tell him to get on with it. So he did. “Anything that gets copied from here to there,” he said, pointing down to indicate where ‘there’ was, “also gets copied to there,” this time he pointed up.

            Raz sat back, bouncing the baby.

            “Great, so they know there’s a half-demon living on Earth with all the other demons. That just has to be against the rules somehow.”

            “So your not going to kill me?”

            “No, I’m going to tell you to stop writing about me, or my daughter, or anyone associated with us, you idiot, and if there’s another word that pertains to us, then you won’t get another chance.” He said, meaning every word of it.

            Penemue didn’t care about the threat so much. He could follow simple rules. But he was quite excited and surprised that he got to not only live, but also go without being maimed in any way – for the time being at least.

            “Have you ever met an angel?”

            “One from heaven?” Penemue answered. He thought about it. Usually they were the sorts of fellows who you didn’t know you had met. “Not that I know of.”

            Raz nodded. He hadn’t seen any since the revolt, and didn’t really know how to tell the difference between the two breeds of angels, aside from their wings tending to be lighter. All that smoke and ash from Hell would just get stuck in your wings and never come out. He wondered briefly if bleach would do the trick, but then decided against trying. He’d stick out like a sore thumb with white wings back home.

            “What do you think they’ll do about it?” Raz asked. “Anything?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking this guy. He apparently tended to lack tact and common sense, not to mention the suspiciousness associated with having lived in hell for any amount of time. He’d obviously been here far too long. Raz made a mental note not to ever become this guy.

            Penemue shrugged. “Well... it doesn’t seem like them to do too much about it, they tolerate us living here. But they might do something to you. Or maybe confiscate the baby. I mean, she is related to Samael and all, they probably wouldn’t like that one bit. The whole continuing the line thing.” He then realized that he hadn’t given an actual answer, and simply said, “I really don’t know.”

            It was what he’d expected, and the same thing he’d been thinking. He remembered his father knocking on Monty’s door, and suspected that the angels, if they did anything at all, would do just the same thing. They’d just sort of be here one day, looking for him when he didn’t expect it. But this time he’d have to be prepared. This time, he might have to fight.

            He went down the hall and knocked on Monty’s door. “I need you to be my guard.” Said Raz, as soon as he opened it.

            By the time he left again, he had confirmed that Monty would stay wherever the baby was, when Raz wasn’t around. If, of course, he wasn’t at class or work. Georgie couldn’t handle anything by himself, obviously, but Monty could probably keep a head cool enough to at least call Raz, if anything went horrible. He added the instructions then that, if anything should go wrong, even slightly wrong, that he should begin screaming at the top of his lungs. Raz wasn’t sure how much this would help, but at least if he was in the vicinity, he would know something was wrong. Besides, it would probably alarm the angels.

            He decided that the next thing he needed to do was get a decent weapon. Man-made weapons were just like men, they were completely physical, and therefore unable to harm an erethreal creature. He needed hell swords. Luckily for him, he’d made more than he would ever need, in all his years there. Raz wondered what other demons were around here, and made a note to visit Penemue the next day, to see who he knew that could make a quick run to Hell for him. It would have to be someone at least a little trustworthy, since Raz couldn’t imagine his own wrath if one of his swords were stolen or harmed.

            What else did he need? Someone to use the weapons would be nice, he thought, looking down at the baby. He considered it, but then let the thought float away from his mind. He needed Alara and Georgie as well, and not just as babysitters. They were doing what they thought was ‘right’, and that made them untouchable. He smiled to himself, not a happy smile, but a crazy smile. The smile that he was used to having, familiar with.

            Raz changed the baby into a pink outfit, with little kitty pawprints on the bottom of the feet. He caught himself thinking that the feet were cute, and then immediately denied to himself that he had dared to think such a thing. He took out a little round toy that made noises when you shook it, and stuffed it awkwardly into her hand. She smiled, shook it once, then threw it across the room. He tried it again, and got the same result. Jocelyn looked up at him happily, seeming to expect him to do something else amusing. He looked around, as  though to make absolutely sure that no one else was watching, and then made a face at the baby. She giggled a little, so he continued making faces and jabbering back at her in an array of extremely embarrassing baby talk.

            “Hello,” came from behind him.

            “Jesus! Fuck!” he said in return.

            “Sorry,” said Azazel, “but I just couldn’t help that one. I mean... really, you’d have done the same to me.”

            It was true, so Raz nodded, trying to remember the last time he was this embarrased. Then he remembered the swords. “Its alright, I need something from you anyways.”

            Azazel raised his eyebrow curiously. “Really?”

            “Yes,” he replied, taking a long silver key out of his pocket. He handed it to the demon, and explained. “I need you to retrieve some swords for me. We might have to do some fighting.”

            “They have swords here you know,” Azazel said, knowing that he already knew, but hoping this didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

            “We aren’t fighting people,” Raz said, with a smile.

            Azazel felt his heart jump into his throat. Raz was crazy, this was his job, but most of the Earth-dwelling demons didn’t want anything to do with celestial wars. That was scary stuff. It was hard, it was risky. He took a deep breath, trying not to be afraid.

 

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Raz couldn’t think of his reply, and luckily he didn’t have to. At this point, the baby had awaken, and started to cry a bit. “She’s probably hungry,” he said, simply, moving to get her.

            He had to admit that he was completely and utterly confused by the way his father was acting. Razael had expected him to find out sooner or later, although he hoped it would be later. But when he did, he expected to have to argue over whether this was the proper thing for a demon to do, and what to do with little Jocelyn. He didn’t expect understanding. It wasn’t something that he had ever thought of his father trying to give others much at all, if ever. But then, perhaps, his demons, his son, they understood him, and trusted him enough to follow him. Why wouldn’t he give them back the same thing?

            Now Samael roughly pushed past him, and stood over the baby in the crib. He hadn’t been to Earth personally forever, and didn’t think to change his shape, but Raz hoped the huge appearance of the man wouldn’t scare the baby. Then again, he’d never been afraid of his father when he was little, so he stayed quiet.

            Samael put a finger to the baby’s nose, and she stopped crying just long enough to cross her eyes and appear confused. He picked her up, quite suddenly, and Raz jerked toward him, as though to catch the baby, or position things correctly. His father glared at him, cradling the little creature in his arms as softly as any grandfather would. The younger angel found himself a bit dumbfounded. He knew that his father was perfectly good at all this – why was it all so shocking to him now?

            Razael prepared a bottle and let his father feed the baby. The entire time he cooed and talked to her, asking her questions which she didn’t understand, and didn’t answer. By the time that she was done eating, Samael’s anger at his son seemed to have worn off. In fact, Raz thought, he might even venture to consider this something like happiness. Usually the closest his father got to that was sick amusement of some sort. Laughter was always at someone else’s expense, most of the time, but right now, he seemed genuinely to be enjoying himself. And, more amazingly, enjoying someone else.

            The baby burped for him, and gave him an open-mouthed smile. She made little noises as he continued to talk to her, as though to continue the conversation. Soon enough, though, Jocelyn began to fall asleep again, as she tended to do. It was then that Samael looked back at his son. He didn’t seem so miffed anymore, at least, but simply asked his questions without a hint as to how he might feel about the answers he would receive. “Are you staying here then?”

            “I suppose,” Raz shrugged, thinking that he didn’t really have a choice, “Hell is no place for a baby.”

            “Where’s the mum?”

            “Oh, she didn’t want it. She lives a while away. I probably won’t ever see her again,” said Raz, indicating that she would be no more trouble, and didn’t know anything about the baby’s heritage.

            “Oh good,” Samael said, obviously releived, “I thought maybe you had fallen in love with a human, and wouldn’t that be just disgusting.”

            They laughed a little, then sat silently for a moment, both staring at the baby for lack of anything else decent to stare at. Then, eventually, Razael asked, “So, how did you find out... where I was, and about the baby? Did Azazel tell you?” Even though the result of things was good, it was risky to tattle on him like that, and Raz wasn’t sure he wouldn’t maul him just for future reference if it had been his friend.

            “No. Penemue is one of my primary researchers here, and he wrote about it. He doesn’t know that everything he writes with that pen of his gets transferred to our library as well. I suppose I could tell him, but... anyhow, I read about it, and after that you weren’t too hard to find,” he stated. Then he stood and walked to the crib, lying the undisturbed baby down gently. “You seem to be doing well, so far.”

 

            Shortly after that, Samael left. By morning he was back in Hell (not that time matters in Hell), doing other duties that needed attended to. Razael felt that an enormous load had been lifted from his shoulders. Everything was working out, going well. He heard a creak in the hallway, and remembered Monty, who had probably heard the entire conversation during the night.

            “That was a wierd dream,” he said. And then, “Why am I in your apartment?”

            “Because it wasn’t a dream.”

            Monty frowned, looked at the floor, considered everything, nodded, and then went into the kitchen to pour himself some water.

            A knock came at the door, and there stood both Alara and Georgie, bearing coffee for everyone. Raz turned it down, and poured himself a coke, but Monty accepted it greatfully, and took one cup for Plant, then escaped down the hallway. The two of them came back a moment later, and sat down at the table.

            “Did Monty stay over last night?” Alara said, worried, although she wasn’t sure why.

            “Yeah, my father came over and scared him a bit,” he replied.

            “Your father Satan?” Georgie asked, just to make sure he was still getting things right.

            “Yep.”

            Monty wondered briefly when he was the last to know all of this. It seemed like rather important information, really. Plant had no idea what they were talking about, and since he was in a perpetual state of confusion most of the time anyways, didn’t care.

            “So what did he say about the baby?” Alara asked. She had already checked on the little one, but was still worried that perhaps demons would come back and steal her in the middle of the night.

            “He was alright with it. I guess I was wrong.”

            The table generally agreed that this was good, and proceeded to sip their coffee, not sure what else you were supposed to say to some strange guy who you just found out was the son of Satan, and father of a half-human who sometimes caught on fire.

            Georgie eventually proposed that they all go out to breakfast. There was a Bob Evans not too far away, as he suggested. They had bottomless coffee and hot chocolate waiting for them there. Raz wondered why anyone would want their drink not to have a bottom, but suspected that there was something he wasn’t getting, and instead, asked, “don’t you people have jobs and school?”

            Everyone looked around, Alara announcing that she and Georgie had found that they were both off, and Plant working primarily in the afternoons. Monty shrugged. “I can skip a class. Its just notes.”

            So the four humans, the demon, and the half-human baby went to Bob Evans. They all ordered the hot chocolate, just for a change of pace, and a variety of breakfast foods too sweet to actually ever be digested. As they ate, the humans, having accepted that whether or not this situation was real, they were stuck in it, so they might as well ask some of the questions they’d been wondering for their whole lives.

            Plant was the first to come up with one. “Do you watch the Simpsons?” he asked nobody in particular. There were mumbled ‘yes’s in general. “Could Jesus microwave a burrito so hot that he himself could not eat it?”  Monty laughed, remembering the episode where Homer proposed this question.

            Raz wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer or not, but everyone looked at him expectantly. He wanted to yell at them. Of his vast knowledge, that was the best they could ask of him? Oh well. “Back when Jesus was here, they didn’t have microwaves. But, he’s only human, so in theory, yes.”

            They all giggled, except Raz of course, and then Monty decided he would think of a better question to make up for his friend’s lack of tact. “Where are heaven and hell?”

            Now this was something he might have expected, and was a bit more prepared to answer. Not that there was a good answer. “Well, they are like what you call demensions. You can’t get there, because you are a completely physical being. So, to you, they do not exist. To me, they are like... planes. Relative to each other, they are generally thought of as being up or down, but really they aren’t.”

            Everyone blinked and thought about this. Then they decided that they didn’t understand, and probably never would.

            “So what’s the going price for a soul?” asked Georgie. Everyone just looked at him. “You know,” he attempted to explain, “like when in the movies the devil gives a guy what he wants, just to have his soul.”

            Raz raised an eyebrow, not beleiving how patient he was being with these questions. “Souls don’t have to be bought. We don’t make deals. We don’t even have to steal them. You guys always give them to us, and a lot more than you give to the other side, I might mention.” This last part he announced with a bit of pride.

009 - 1,630

The store was like nothing he’d ever seen. He’d heard of markets. People would farm and raise their creatures, and sell their food there. This place was different. It was no wonder so many people seemed so fat to him, they didn’t have to do anything for the food. They just went there, and got any of the endless amounts of food, and traded some money for it. Then they took it home, and ate it. It was all packaged, and included too many ingredients. He wasn’t sure what any of it meant, and being a suspicious fellow, eventually ended up in the organic isle. However, there wasn’t much to choose from there, so he ended up getting a lot of potentially dangerous things. The humans were eating it, though, so it couldn’t be that horrible, could it? He read the ingredients on the back of the Coke bottle with a bit of disappointment. He was wary of at least half of them, but he got it anyways, since the other drinks were all the same, except for the juice.

            Someone rang up all his food, he produced the money, and he went home with it. It was amazing. No one tried to attack him for it, and the only beggars he passed asked him for his spare change. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in this situation, being a patron of evil in general. Was he to encourage them by giving them money, or leave them without? He decided that in the long run more people would probably be aggravated if they continued, and gave one his change.

            He put the cold items in the refrigerator, and the bread in the pantry. Raz still didn’t have a great amount of food, but it wasn’t as though it were actually neccessary for him to eat.

            Georgie seemed to have calmed down, and now bounced the baby, trying to get her to be amused. “So, why are you here?” Georgie asked him, still not beleiving what was going on, but deciding that he might as well play along with it anyways. “Why not take Jocelyn and go.. you know... back to your home?”

            Raz poured himself a coke, and sat down nearby. “Well... my dad... he’d probably just want her to be a servent, or a worker. He’s not all for humans, and I’m sure half-humans would be considered a disgrace.”

            Georgie was glad to hear that she was at least half human. He had wondered, briefly, if the mother was from Hell as well. He nodded his understanding, and thought it all over a bit longer. “So... do you know when the world will end?” he said, after a while.

            “What? Why would I know that?” Asked Raz, not sure why he was expected to know the answer to such a question. Humans had quite a few myths that weren’t true, but the idea of demons knowing the future was a new one to him. He had good foresight, he would admit, but that was out of experience more than anything, not knowing what was going to happen.

            “Nevermind,” Georgie replied, and walked off to change the baby. Maybe it was a silly question. But this was a silly situation. Not silly... bad. If this was real, then that meant that Heaven and Hell were real, and he could imagine where he was going for aiding a demon. He hadn’t signed up for this. He could be back in Cincinatti, playing around with boys like Frank, having fun, getting drunk. He liked babies, and he loved being paid so well, but was it worth it?

 

            Monty awoke to a knock at the door. Not the front door, but his bedroom door. He sat up, at first, and then laid back down heavily. “Plant, I have class tomorrow, can it wait?” he grumbled at what he thought must be his roommate.

            The knock persisted, so he got up, and opened the door. The light in the hallway was dim, but he could certainly see that this man was not Plant. Plant was small, and this man was huge. His eyes glowed red, truly glowed, and he had rippling muscles, covered only by a ripped up shirt and pair of pants. His dark hair fell around his face as he leaned forward to get a good look at the small human. He had great black feathered wings at his back.

            Monty rubbed his eyes.

            The great creature opened his mouth, and it seemed as though he could hear the sound of fire, cracking and popping, consuming. “Razael, you know him, do you not?” Said the huge figure.

            “Uh. What?” Monty was not too alarmed, because by now he’d decided that he was dreaming. Obviously, he thought to himself, that he had been remembering the fake wings that Raz wore, and his red-flecked eyes, and he’d brought up this exaggerated image to dream about. “Oh, Raz,” he said, suddenly realizing that Razael and Raz must be the same person. “Yeah, I know him.”

            “Come, boy, show me where he is.”

            Monty heard a car alarm go off, somewhere far away, and suddenly wondered why he would dream about a car alarm going off. At that thought, he decided that he didn’t like this very much anymore. This wasn’t what he wanted to dream about. He felt, somehow, that he would be doing something wrong by taking this person to Razael’s apartment. Stall him, something in his mind said, that’s what he could do. “Might I ask, uh, who you are?”

            “I am Razael’s father. I am Samael, Lucifer, Satan. I am Hell. I am the prince of darkness, chaos, pandeomonium.” He came within Monty’s personal space, so close that he could feel the hot breath of the huge winged man. “Now, take me to him.” The words were said so firmly, that Monty’s eyes went wide. He was extremely awake. This wasn’t a dream, it was far too real for any dream. Yet somehow, he was frozen. His desire to flee was fighting with his fear of this great creature. No, not a creature, this was Satan. He couldn’t move. This wasn’t helping. His mouth gaped open stupidly.

 

            A knock came at Raz’s door. He opened it, thinking that it wasn’t morning yet, and how odd it was for humans to be out this late. Usually, if they were out this late, it was because they were either obligated to do so, or they were drinking, not to visit people like him. He opened the door cheerily.

            When he saw what was behind the now open door, he cursed himself for not using the stupid peep-hole. Monty and Samael came in, and Raz told the human to go to sleep in his bed, in the other room. It would be a good idea to keep him in the apartment, just to make sure he was alright, but so far he was a bit more resiliant-looking than most other humans would have been, facing the same situation. Monty didn’t think that he would be able to sleep, but then, it didn’t matter that much. He was certainly better off lying in bed alone than out there with what were apparently Satan and his son. Either way, if he was dreaming, perhaps he would wake up soon, and forget this before lunch came around.

            Samael folded his arms, looking around. “So, you are keeping something from me.”

            Razael looked at his feet, putting his hands behind his back like a small child who knows he is going to be put in time-out as soon as the scolding is done with. “Yes.”

            “Why?

            “Because...” he sighed, not sure how to put it. He was pretty sure that there wasn’t a correct way to tell his father that he thought he was sort of an asshole, and would probably make his daughter a slave of sorts. There wasn’t time to find the words. “Because, I want her to, you know, have a good childhood, to have a chance...”

            “And, what, I never had a kid, so I wouldn’t know how that felt?” Samael said, a little angrily. Then he seemed to loosen up, and patted his son on the shoulder. “I had a son, remember?”

            “But, your son isn’t part human.”

            Samael just raised his eyebrows, in a sort of manner that asked why the hell it should matter to him.

008 - 1,929 words

He was getting good at this, he thought, as he held the baby up to his chest and burped it. What other demon in hell could say they knew how to change a diaper, make a bottle, or burp a baby? He was learning, here.

            He packed the baby up, in a thing that strapped her to his chest, and put a bottle and some diapers in a bag, then walked out again. With Georgie somewhat incapacitated, and Alara gone, he didn’t have any other babysitters. He could have attempted to find Monty, but it was daytime, so the young working fellow was probably still at work. Either way, he didn’t wish for any more excitement, and it was really not that much of a hassle to take her himself.

            Raz made sure that he looked alright, and appeared to be as human as possible. He found that it was an incredibly complicated process, getting into school. There seemed to be a lot of waiting involved. No more of that simply walking in and getting an education, apparently. First, they had to clarify that you really wanted to go, and were smart enough. Then they had to make sure that they were going to get paid. You had all sorts of choices to make and questions to answer in the process. He turned in his application with all the assorted papers included, and hoped that they would accept him without further interference. He didn’t want to go through the whole intimidating and badgering of everyone on the acceptance board (or whatever they had to decide these things) just to get into a silly school. It was far too risky. He’d already used enough deception, including the odd threat, here and there, to get his humans their jobs and whatnot here.

            When he was done with the whole pain-staking process, he and Jocelyn went home, and took a nap together. He didn’t need a nap, but it felt good to rest his mind and body in such a satisfying way every so often. Besides, he was warm and comfortable, and things were going relatively well, even if they weren’t at all, even a little, the way he had expected them to be.

            When he awoke, there was someone standing over him, with short blond hair, and the evil grin that only a demon can have. He would have been startled, if he hadn’t spent the majority of his life in Hell.

            “She’s a cutie,” said Azazel, bending over to get a good look at the sleeping child. Raz sat up, slowly, and moved her to a crib. She stirred a little, but then went back to sleep with the two men standing over her. “I thought I might as well check up on you, just t’see how things are going, you know?”

            “Things are going... well, they aren’t going as planned because I didn’t really have a plan. But they are fine, amazingly enough.” Raz said. Azazel nodded, as if this was what he’d expected. Then Raz continued. “Actually, she caught on fire today.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, scared the shit out of the sitter. I had to tell him and another girl what was going on.”

            “You didn’t have to,” Azazel told him, knowing that this was something Razael already knew.

            “No, I didn’t. But it makes things easier.”

            “I’m surprised they believed you,” he replied, taking a peice of fruit from the table and helping himself to it as he sat down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “I remember when I first came here, I was afraid they’d discover me. But, you know, they are really good at convincing themselves that things didn’t happen. You have to really try to get them to beleive anything interesting.” He smiled again, widely.

            Raz realized that he was oddly happy that the demon was here. They’d become friends, somehow, over all this. He reminded himself not to go trusting him too much, but sat down next to him nonetheless. “So where have you been?” he asked, glad that he could have a moment to not be on the topic of babies anymore.

            “Oh, you know. Hell, occasionally, California, Italy. I really like Italy, you should come visit. Although it kind of gives you a headache if you get too close to the Vatican. I kind of wanted to meet the Pope, actually. Just to see if he was a fake, or what angel is following him around.” He seemed genuinely interested in this.

            Raz rolled his eyes at the thought of angels. “We should get a demon  in there full-time, just to mix things up a bit.”

            “Your father says hi, by the way. He asked me what you were doing up here, and I said I didn’t know, probably just touring the world.”

            “You told him that?”

            Azazel shrugged. “What else was I going to say?”

            Raz hoped that this didn’t mean he was expected to actually tour the world. “Well, next time tell him that first I’m studying up on my history.”

            “Are you seriously?” The angel was in disbeleif, obviously.

            “Yeah, just applied for enrollment in classes here, whenever fall comes around.” He nodded as he said it, as though he were resigning himself to human life, and couldn’t do much about it.

            “Well, after that, take this baby and your human servants, and I’ll take you on a tour of the good places in the world.”

            “Humans can’t jump like we can, can they?” Raz asked, surprised that he would even think to invite them along, and hoping that they weren’t about to walk or sail about the whole world.

            “No, but they can fly.” After Raz gave him another blank look, he clarified further. “Like on a plane? No? Nothing? Man, you need to catch up bigtime, don’t you?”

            Raz agreed, but didn’t have to say so.

            The baby began to squirm a little, and then awoke, opening her eyes and blinking a few times to clear them a bit.

            “Wow, she has your eyes, huh?”

            “Yeah, except a lot lighter,” he replied.

 

            Azazel had given him an adress and a phone number before he left, and was incredibly proud of Raz for having set himself up with a cell phone without any prompting.

            It was almost evening, by now, and Raz decided that he should probably check up on Georgie, even if he didn’t really want to. What did humans do for each other to be nice? He remebered Alara bringing him food, and decided to do the same with Georgie, except with beer. As far as he was concerned, beer was often far more likeable.

            When he arrived, Georgie didn’t talk much, but seemed relatively well, and took the beer thankfully. Instead of staying, he allowed the human to continue recovering on his own, and went to see Monty and Plant, instead. They were both trying to get over the fact that they had coincidentally both found better situations here than in Cincinatti, and decided that it must be very good luck. They had preferred to live together, still, which really just made things slightly more convenient for Raz as well.

            They’d moved in completely, he saw when Plant let him in. Everything was unpacked and maticulously put away. The place was very clean, and it was hard to tell that two young bachelors lived there at all. Plant looked at the little child, and attempted to express that he was glad she still looked fairly healthy and happy. Instead he just said something about pumpkin pie, and, apparently not caring (or knowing) that he made absolutely no sense, went back to playing a game in front of the television. Monty came out of the shower, with a towel around his waste. “Oh, hey,” he said, noticing Raz and the baby standing not too far away. “I just got home from work, I’ll be out in a sec,” he said, and then went into a room to get dressed.

            Raz wondered what it was with humans and being dressed all the time. Being covered was one thing, but they always had to be far more covered than they really needed to be, even in warm weather. He didn’t get it, but decided not to say anything, for fear of being thought creepy.

            Monty was out in a few moments, with his hair still wet, and asked the room in general, “Are you hungry?”

            “Hungry, yes,” answered Plant.

            Raz simply nodded, saying that he could eat.    

            “Chinese?” asked Plant, simply.

 

            They decided to go out and eat at one of the hole-in-the-wall asian restaurants within walking distance. It was a nice day, and they all needed a good walk outside. They grabbed a menue to take home with them, just for future reference, in case they needed to order take-out some other time.

            None of them were incredibly adventureous in ordering their food. There was duck, sushi, and some sort of meal made of intestines, but they all ordered something including chicken or pork, and a good heap of rice and vegitables. It was very Americanized Asian food, but none of them minded.

            In truth, althoug Plant had been born in America, he’d visited Japan a few times, and had eaten the food there. It wasn’t incredibly noteable, he thought. Although everything was different there, only the Saki was actually better.

            Raz debated as to whether or not he should tell these two the same truth that he’d told Georgie and Alara. He ended up deciding not to decide yet – there was plenty of time to see how things went, and no reason to hurry up and tell everybody more information than they really needed to know. They were just humans, after all, and he didn’t want another reaction like Georgie’s, especially here at the restaurant.

            So instead they talked about human stuff, basically a bunch of things that didn’t seem to matter in the long run, and ate their American Asian food. It was here that another noteable thing happened. While ordering drinks, Raz found something else new, and ordered his first Coke. He wasn’t sure what this was supposed to be, or what it was made of, but he now crossed coffee and tea both off of his mental list of the best things, and put Coke at the top. He would have to get some, although he wasn’t completely sure where humans got food when they weren’t eating out.

            When they got back to the apartments, it was fairly late, and Monty announced that he was going to bed. Raz thought that he should probably go back to his own place, not sure if it was impolite to stay. When he and the baby got home, he used another feature just as helpful as Mapquest, Google, and typed in the words “Getting food”. Somewhere along the lines, the phrase “grocery store” came up, and he found one of these nearby. He decided that Georgie would probably be okay enough to take care of the baby again, (although Georgie did not think so) and left Jocelyn with him while he ran out to this odd store full of food and drinks.

007 - 3,827 words

Razael had only to walk a few blocks to get to Penemue's house. It was a small house, with a little porch which was surrounded by a garden of severely neglected plants. There weren't many people out, except for the occasional college student stumbling this way or that, still a little sick from the night before. He was learning a little bit about human nature, and one of the things he knew he could identify was someone who had drunk just a bit more than they could handle. He wasn't sure if this was a result of having done so himself, or having been trained to identify weakness.

            He went up the porch steps, and knocked on the door. At first, no one answered, for so long that he thought maybe the other demon wasn't home, and he should leave. He was trying to decide whether he should knock again or just go when he heard a latch being undone, and the door opened.

            A man opened the door in his t-shirt and boxers, holding a book in his hand and a pen in his mouth. He took it out of his mouth and smiled widely, stuffing the pen behind his ear. His head was covered in dark curls, and his eyes were a vibrant green that was just slightly too bright to be human. He looked Raz over, and then patted him heavily on the shoulder. "Ahh! Razael, yes? I thought you'd show up in a few days, not right away. But come in, come in."

            Razael darkened a little. "I'm not a human. Do not treat me like one."

            Penemue rethought his actions, and realized that giving any demon (let alone this particular one) a good whack on the shoulder probably wasn't the best idea. He bowed his head just slightly, in a manner that said he was truly sorry.

            Razael couldn't believe how the Earth-demons had become so integrated into this world so easily. They were turning into humans, regressing in a way. But, whatever, he supposed that it wasn't his problem, and maybe when he got back to Hell he would suggest that these fellows be regulated a little better so that they at least knew how to act when alone with others of their own kind. A reminder, maybe. He decided to let it go, though, and took the invitation to enter the house. "Its just Raz by the way, to the humans."

            "Ahh, okay, then I'm Pen. Would you like some tea, Raz?" He seemed to have forgotten all about the previous minor scare, and now was willing to pretend as though they were the best of friends.

            Raz didn't know what to think of him, really, but then, what did he have to be mean about? Perhaps all this worry and confusion was getting to him. "Yeah, I'll have some tea, thank you."

            They sat down at the table, in a room filled with books. "So what do you teach?"

            "English. Writing, Literature, anything like that. I've had quite a while to study it all, heh, so I know about as much as anyone," he replied, proudly.

            "I was thinking about enrolling in classes myself. History.."

            "Heh! History? That's lovely. Everyone's doing history these days, it seems. I've already read most of the historical books... although at some point they really get mixed up, and you can't tell what is true and what someone made up. And of course, the angels kept all the correct accounts, so you'll have to steal them if you want to know what really happened. I guess I'm just not brave enough for that sort of thing." He held his hands out and shrugged, as if to show that he was more brains than brawn, and quite content with this.

            At least he knew his place in the world, Raz thought, wondering how long it had been since he'd actually visited Hell. "You are certainly... used to this environment, aren't you..."

            "Yes, I suppose I am. Ever since I taught them to write, I just had to stay and see what they had to say."

            He laughed, having never suspected that this demon was the one reponsible for giving out that particular peice of forbidden knowledge. He took a sip of his tea, and found that it was actually excellent. He made a mental note always to choose tea over coffee, if he was given the choice.

            Pen continued. "So, what brings you here, anyhow?"

            "Uh, I just wanted to take the time to learn about the place, study the history.  I just have always spent so much time everywhere else, I sort of skipped over this middle ground here."

            "You know," said Pen, setting down his own tea and managing to look serious for the first time, "I'm not just a dark angel, I'm a teacher too." Raz raised an eyebrow, not quite sure what he was getting at. Finally, he annouced simply, but not harshly, "I know you are lying. Tell me why your really here, maybe I can help."

            Raz just looked at Pen, for a long time. He leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. There was no trusting other demons, it was simply impossible. They were not loyal to anyone, even each other, although not knowing their boundries and hierarchies could cause quite a bit of trouble. The real question was, would this fellow have any reason to bother going all the way back to Hell to tattle on him? No, that wasn't the way Pen was, he could see just from looking at him that he was more intelligent and tactful than that. He had to know that Raz had a bit of power, and that maybe having some blackmail on him wouldn't be a bad idea. So, he thought to himself, he was making a deal, if he told Pen all this. Keep my secret, and I'll be on your side.

            Eventually, having resolved all this, the angel leaned forward, and put both hands around the warm tea. "Apparently, I have a small human to take care of."

            "A boy or a girl?" Asked Pen, who didn't appear incredibly surprised.

            "A girl. I named her Jocelyn... her mother didn't want her."

            "And you couldn't give her up, because she's your daughter."

            Raz nodded. "But she could come in handy, at some point, just as I'm always listening to my father, I'm sure she'd do the same for me, if I could..."

            "You don't have to defend yourself," Pen interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "I understand. I've never known any others to have children, but its perfectly natural to want to protect her. Its your genes, your bloodline that you respect and love. Its not weak of you, so stop worrying about it."

            Raz opened his mouth, then shut it again. He was beginning to rethink his initial analysis of this fellow. He looked out the window, then looked back, trying to find something else to say. "Anyhow, I need to learn about humans, and especially babies. And I need to enroll in classes."

            Pen nodded, and put a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "You need to learn about their technologies to know them. Their cars, their computers, stereos, televisions, these things control their lives. Make sure to learn as much about them as possible. Money is the other important thing. And just when you think that's all they care about, you find that they care an incredible amount about each other, from time to time. They'll always surprise you."

            Raz could certainly agree with that, and nodded as he said so. "I haven't heard much... anything, actually, about God or anything," he said it as though it were a question.

            "Ahh, yes, God. They aren't very good at religeon anymore, you know? Its just too confusing for them. They started to make things up here and there, and then we came in and confused them more. Its best to absolutely avoid the subject at all costs, to avoid a fight. Or, well, if you want to pick one, just mention it."

            He laughed, proud of the demons who lived here. Obviously they were doing a good job, if that was the case.

            Pen continued, trying to think of things to warn him about or other advice to give. "They've discovered a lot about themselves, and if they've thought of it, they have probably written it down as well. There are plenty of bookstores, and you'll find a whole section dedicated to babies, I promise. I've never dealt with those, but I've heard people say stuff about them before. Sleep when they sleep... eh, that doesn't pertain to you though. Take it to the doctor for checkups, make sure its always very dry and clean, hold it a lot, that sort of stuff. They mostly need a lot of general attention, I think."

            Raz nodded. "She has telepathy, I think she uses it sparadically though."

            Suddenly interested, the other demon leaned forward. "Really? I wonder what else she's gotten from your side. If she'll grow wings or, you know, have other powers and stuff. That will be interesting."

            At that moment, the phone rang in his pocket. Raz wasn’t sure what it was at first, because of course it didn’t really ‘ring’. It just sort of made noises, which might have been a small clip of happy music played in a loop. He was alarmed by this, and then, upon realizing what was going on, took it out of his pocket and figured out how to answer it. Penemue watched all this with mild amusement, surprised that he’d gotten to it before the voice mail picked up. Then again, he thought, surely Raz had no idea how to set up voicemail.

 

            When he arrived at the apartment, he was glad to see that it still stood, and even more glad when he looked inside, and Georgie and the baby were still there. “FUCKING SHIT,” said Georgie, somewhat in a panic. “She caught on fucking fire!” Then he held her out to the demon, showing him that she was incredibly unharmed. “How the hell does this happen? I swear to God she was on fire. How can she not have a mark on her? How does she still have clothes?”

            “Because, I presume, she wouldn’t have expected the fire to hurt her or burn her clothes. She doesn’t  know the consequences of fire, so there weren’t any.” Raz answered, calmly, taking the content, but tired, Jocelyn from her sitter.

            “What the hell are you talking about? I’m telling you, she was on fire!” Georgie said. “How can you not take her to the hospital? There’s something, something fucking wrong with this!”

            Now, Raz knew that he had a few options as to what to do about this. He could pretend to be concerned, and pretend to take her to a hospital, just to make the fellow feel better, but that was a lot of work for something he didn’t care that much about. He could kill Georgie, dispose of him, and find another sitter. He could convince him that he’d imagined it altogether, which would be pretty easy, really. Or he could scare the hell out of him by telling him a bit more of the truth than humans are generally comfortable with.

            “Sit down, Georgie,” he said, motioning one hand toward the sofa. Georgie looked at him, in disbeleif, and then sat down. Razael continued. “I think its time for a demonstration, no?” Georgie only raised his eyebrows, not sure what else to say.

            He sat down in a large chair nearby, and while holding the baby with one arm, held the other straight out. He snapped his fingers, and a little flame shot out and stayed there. It grew, it became a ball, and then he tossed it up. It went up, up into the air, falling almost in slow-motion, and then it hit the floor and splattered. Suddenly the whole room was on fire. It was all around them, burning, consuming, but not harming them, not harming anything in the room, and not spreading.

            A click came from behind him, and Raz turned, suddenly, cursing himself for not locking the door. The fire disappeared quickly as he spun to look, but it was too late. Alara stood in the doorway. She looked mildly surprised. “Well that’s interesting,” she said, after a moment or two.

            Georgie didn’t say anything.

            “How did you do that?” Alara asked, entering and closing the door, then setting down a bag on the table. She began to take things out of it, fruit and other foods that she apparently thought he needed.

            “With the powers of Hell,” he replied, as if that explained everything.

            “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, good-naturedly.

            The wings became visible at his back, and for a moment they both saw some other shape, not a human shape, but the shape of power, beauty, and chaos. He got up, and locked the door, thinking that he shouldn’t like to have anyone else walk in on this. “It means, I’m not one of you. And neither is Jocelyn. I wasn’t going to tell you, but at this point, I think the future will be easier for all of us if you know.”

            Alara seemed to accept this a little easier than Georgie, who still was sitting frozen on the couch. She noticed, and went over to put an arm around him. “Its alright, buddy, everything’s okay.” Then she looked up at Raz, “Is this the sitter?”

            “Yeah. She created some fire, and he freaked out a bit, I think.”

            She shrugged, understandingly, and continued to pat him, hoping that he would come back to reality soon.

            Razael continued. “I might tell you more later, if you can shut up about this much. You can’t tell anyone, understand?” Alara nodded. “Understand?” he said, a little more firmly, and directly at Georgie. He nodded a little, and looked at the floor. “Good then.”

            “No one would beleive us anyways, they’d just put us in the nut-house if we decided to push the subject. I’m not sure I even beleive us,” Alara announced.

            He smiled, glad that one of them was taking things well. They sat and ate peaches, and Georgie stared at the floor, until Alara began to think of questions that she had for him.

            “So, you are a demon, or a fallen angel, or what?”

            “A fallen angel, if you want to get technical,” he replied.

            She thought on this for a moment. “Now, I’m not being critical here, just curious. But, why did you pick heaven over hell?”

            “Well, my Dad lead the revolt, and I was convinced that he was right.”

            “Your dad was Satan?”

            “His name is actually Samael, but yeah, they called him Satan after that whole ordeal.”

            Again, she considered this, trying to think of the stories she knew about this sort of thing, not being incredibly religeous. “So, you thought your dad was better than God?”

            He raised an eyebrow, a little confused. Those angels must have mucked things up good for the humans. “What? No, that wasn’t even the debate. We all just thought he was better than a human, no offense.”

            Alara was now thoroughly confused. “What do you mean?”

            “Its... its a long story...”

            “I have time. Who else do I get to ask this stuff to?” She smiled cutely, and he couldn’t help but tell her.

            He sighed, giving up this fight, and began the story, which really wasn’t that incredibly long. “Well, it was really a big misunderstanding. My dad was pretty much at the right hand of God, you know? He was in charge of all the troops and overseeing the seventh heaven, and everything. He liked God a lot more than the other angels, actually, and was smarter and generally better than the vast majority of them. He was always seeing through things, and realizing what was and wasn’t a test from God. One day, he brought up this human, I think you guys call him Jesus, and said that all the angels had to bow to him. Dad was the smart one, he announced that they all had to remember back to when they were created, and God said, ‘Bow to no one but me!’, and he crossed his arms and would not bow. Michael, this sort of overzealous, but probably well-meaning fellow, he cursed him for a traitor, and his buddies exatterated things, and he ended up throwing Dad out of Heaven, and binding him in hell. And I have to tell you, by the way, that he wouldn’t have lost a fight against Michael except that he’d put complete faith in God to set things right. He was so heartbroken when God allowed the angels to throw him out, that he allowed himself to be chained on a burning lake in Hell. His followers were obviously the ones that thought he was right, or at least understood. They followed him down there, and were chained with him, until one day he opened his eyes and started to laugh. He unchained himself, and said to all of us, that if they claimed he was evil, then evil he must be, for there must be evil for there to be good. He told me once that he was proud of his position in hell, as it meant that he was the only angel strong enough to have been chosen as the counterpart of God.”

            “I’m going to throw up,” announced Georgie.

            They both shuffled him to the bathroom, and put his face in the toilet.

            “So its true then,” said Alara, when Georgie was done wretching.

            “What is?” asked Raz.

            “That there isn’t really ‘evil’, just people doing what they beleive is right.”

            He shrugged, not really sure what to say. “I suppose so.” Raz told Georgie to get a shower, and that he would feel better if he did. He did, and then he said that he wanted to go to his apartment and go to sleep, if that was quite alright. Raz didn’t want to let him go, but Alara reminded him that the human mind can be very good at recovering from these sorts of things, if it needs to.

            Now alone with the apparent demon, Alara put the baby on her belly, and laid on the carpet with her. “See, now, you have to do this a little every day too. Otherwise, their neck muscles and stuff won’t develop right, or so they say.” Then she seemed to remember something, and jumped up. She reached into the little bag she had brought over, and produced a book. “Here,” she said, handing the book to Raz.

            It was a baby book, and inside was loads of information. He scanned through it, finding that it would probably be pretty handy, with developmental charts, ilnesses, and lists of ‘when to take your baby to the doctor’. Raz decided that he would memorize the entire thing sometime later.

            “I guess I never thought about angels... or fallen angels, or whatever, having kids.” Alara looked at the baby, stroking her gently on the head. Jocelyn cooed in return. Then she stood up, and handed the baby back to her father. “Well, I just wanted to drop this stuff off, actually. I’m going to be late to work as it is, so I’ll see you later.” With that, she exited, and the demon felt oddly alone, suddenly.

            It was a releif that he’d been able to tell those silly humans what the situation actually was. One took it well, and one not so well... but it could have been worse, certainly. Jocelyn began to squirm and fuss, so the demon heated up a bottle, thinking about what Alara had said. Most angels, it seemed, were just sort of... there. They were created, and existed, and did not reproduce. They could change their appearance if they so chose, but otherwise were male. There was one angel who was both male and female, at times, and they called him Gabriel and her Gabrielle. Then there was his mother, who, if  you beleived the myths, had been so beautiful that she was the inspiration for Eve. He wasn’t sure if Gabrielle had any kids, or if he had any half-siblings, but now that he thought about it, Raz was pretty sure that he was the first baby born in heaven, and possibly the only one.

            He could remember his childhood, if he tried very hard to do so. It was lovely, and smelled like fresh flowers, sunlight, and wide open fields. He remembered playing, fishing, dancing, and learning. He learned as much as he could about the histories of Heaven, and could play any instrument he desired. He was still but a teenager when he’d made the decision to follow his father. It was odd, because he had fully expected his mother to follow them as well. Samael and Johnalyn’s relationship was not a sin, after all. They were too close to God to need to be married, he trusted his angels to make the right decisions with or without his consent. They had loved each other, or so he’d thought.

            An image flashed in his mind, a memory of his father, and Micheal, the angel who shone silver, tearing Samael away from the clouds, the light. A last kiss from the beautiful angel, a single tear. What was it that she had whispered to him, as Michael dragged him away? That she would see him again? That she loved him? That she was sorry? He made a mental note to ask his father sometime, although he wasn’t sure he was meant to know.

006 - 3,193 words

They had gotten to the hospital in a rush, but before they'd even left the baby was born, the day before in fact. He pronounced himself a visitor, after finding her last name in a phonebook, and the father as well. Serena was far less hostile to him than her messengers were.

            She smiled softly, tiredly, and looked over at the baby. "I didn't want a baby." She said, calmly.

            "I know," he said, sitting on the chair near the foot of her bed, and looking at the little thing. It was just so incredibly tiny, and fragile. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

            "A girl."

            "What's her name?"

            "I haven't picked one yet." She grabbed some papers from the table beside her, and tossed them toward him. "You can fill these out whenever you leave with her."

            He looked at the papers. One was something that said he was the legal father, and the other was an application for a birth certificate. He ruffled his eyebrows. "So, what, you want me to take care of her until they let you out of the hospital."

            She looked at him frankly, her smile disappearing. This time she said the words a little slower. "I didn't want a baby."

            He realized what she was implying now, and shook his head, standing. "Oh no, I don't want to take your baby from you... I mean, I wouldn't be a good father. I'm not good, period. I'm just not on that side. I can't do this."

            She shrugged. "I don't care what you want. I'll put her in an orphinage, if you'd rather. She's not mine, I don't want her."

            He felt sick, in his stomach. Raz just looked at her, straight into her eyes and her soul, and frowned. "I will see you again someday, in another demention, far away."

            At that, neither of them said anything else. He began to fill out the papers, and once he was done with that, he set them on the table again. Serena had fallen asleep, and the little girl hadn't even begun to stir yet. He checked to make sure that it was breathing, and then exited, going out to the car where his patient friends were waiting. Humans were amazing. They surprised him in their loyalty, even to him, someone they did not know, and in how purely evil and selfish they could be as well.

            Once they were all standing in the hospital bedroom again, looking at the baby, he spoke again. "She doesn't want it. I don't know what to do with a baby. I don't even know what to name her." He plopped down hopelessly into a chair.

            Alara picked the sleeping child up, and cradled her. "All you have to do is hold them, like this. When she cries, either feed her or change her. That's it."

            "It sounds easier than it really is," said Monty.

            Plant looked up. "What's your last name?"

            "Grey," Replied Raz, glad that he'd selected one beforehand.

            "Well, lets see, what names go good with Grey..." Alara said, thinking while she swayed easily with the baby in her arms. "You don't want something too strange."

            "Like Plant," plant said. Raz hadn't realized that it was a strange name at all, and wondered what else would qualify for that category.

            "But you don't want anything too plain or common either," she continued, seeming to be sifting through a long list in her mind. "It has to have at least two syllables... because otherwise it will sound stupid, like Grace Grey..." she said, giving her example, then continuing to think more, without coming up with anything good.

            "What about Cathrine?" offered Monty.

            "Seems too snotty for this sweet little honey muffin, yes, yes, you have the sweetest little sleeping face," said Alara, switching at some point from talking to Monty to talking to the yet unnamed baby.

            Raz shook his head. What had he gotten himself into? He couldn't take care of a baby. "I can't do this. I mean, I have other obligations. I don't even know how to take care of a baby if I wanted to," he said, hardly realizing that he was expressing this out loud. He rubbed his eyes frustratedly. "Why do I even care about the little shit..."

            "Because you are her Daddy."

            He looked up, and Alara was smiling at him sweetly. He couldn't help but smile back, and wonder vaguely when demons started being better than humans. It would have made things so much easier if the mother had just loved the baby, loved it enough to see that he was a demon, and not a good enough parent to leave any person of any age with. He was a demon. Alara suddenly thrusted the baby into his arms, announcing how exactly to hold her, and what to do with his arm, and that he had to keep a hold on her head.

            The baby was incredibly small and fragile. Her eyes fluttered open, blue with little bright red flecks, and he sighed. Maybe, if he could raise her right, to be intelligent and wise and strong, maybe back home they would accept her just as they did anyone else. Maybe she would do her work on Earth, and they wouldn't bother her. Raz pushed those thoughts out of his mind. There was no planning for the future, apparently, but only for the here and the now. And right now, he had a teeny baby to take care of. He stuck a finger into her hand, and she closed her little fist onto it. He looked her over, noting that she didn't have any wings, but only extra nubs on her shoulderblades. Raz wondered when wings would grow there, if they did at all. There was nothing odd about her, except for her eyes, and even that was enough to prove that she was truly his. He had hoped, somewhere inside, that she was someone else's, and that he would be able to escape this. Even now, he could, if he really wanted to.

            He supposed that even demons had morals, and resolved to keep her, at least for now.

            "What's your mother's name?" asked Plant.

            "My mother? Her name is Johnalyn."

            Monty gave Plant a confused look, asking, "What did that have to do with anything?"

            "I don't know... he could name her after his mother. If he liked her. Do you like her?"

            Raz shrugged, unsure of what to do. "Eh, I never really got to know her that well. She was very pretty... but she's in Heaven." He knew what they thought he meant, and that was a good enough deception. They all announced that they were sorry for him, and he shrugged again, replying that it was a long time ago that he had seen her last.

            "How about Jocelyn then?" asked Alara. "That's a pretty name."

            He looked back down at the baby, who was now starting to work up to a cry. "Jocelyn, that sounds nice."

            At that, little Jocelyn began absolutely wailing. The mother awoke, and sighed, as though she were very annoyed, but too tired to do much about it. She held her arms out, and Raz handed her the baby. She began to breastfeed, and the baby quieted down, thankfully. He wondered how he was supposed to feed the baby without her. "Her name is Jocelyn. Jocelyn... Samantha Grey."

            Serena smiled a little bit then, and even though it was for completely selfish reasons, Razael felt a little better about it. He wrote the name down on the papers, and put them back on the table, hoping that a nurse would know to take them. "When are you leaving the hospital?" he asked, remembering what Georgie had said. Babies needed stuff. He didn't have stuff. He didn't even have a place to live, unless he went to Columbus.

            "Tomorrow, probably," she said.

            "Okay."

            He didn't feel like talking to her anymore, so he walked out, looking behind himself to see if the others were following him. They were, thankfully. "I've got to get some stuff," he said. "I have a place to live in Columbus, but I only know one person there. I can get you all places to live and jobs better than the ones you have now if you will come with me."            

            Plant announced that the company he worked for presently was good to him, Monty told him that he was going to school here, and couldn't be moving, and Alara accepted the offer happily, glad for the opportunity to play somewhere else. Later that day, Plant's company opened up a branch in Columbus, and offered him a managerial position there. The Ohio State University called Monty and told him that he'd won the essay contest he had entered online, and if he transferred soon, he would get a free ride there for the rest of his years. He couldn't remember applying for any essay scholarship there, but then, he'd done a lot, and perhaps it had been a long time ago.

            In the meantime, Raz rented a moving truck, and put all of the stuff Georgie's sister could give into it. The stores were just beginning to open up, by the time they were done with that, and the sun was just up over the horizon. So, they went shopping. He knew that they would need a lot of stuff, but he'd had no idea exactly how much. As it were, he had a virtually endless monetary supply, but it seemed to him that this would be impossible without it. How could poor people buy all this crap and still be able to eat? He was beginning to gain a new respect for such working people.

            They bought an entire crib, a dresser, a crib matress, a changing pad, blankets, sheets, clothes, toys, a swing, a bouncer, a carseat, a stroller, something called a baby bjorn, bottles, pacifiers, and a bunch of formula. Apparently babies without mothers ate this stuff. There were very specific directions on how to use it, even. They also bought a few boxes of diapers, wipes, and other minor things, like soaps and bathstuffs. Standing at the checkout with all of this, Georgie watched him pay, and then asked, "Where do you work, and can you get me a job there?" in amazement.

            He was beginning to understand that whenever someone said something and then laughed, they were probably lying for reason of comedy. This was a joke. "Ah, I can't really tell you, I'm afraid." he said.

            "Oooh," replied Georgie. "So, like something secret, the CIA or something. That must be interesting."

            He wasn't sure what the CIA was, but it sounded good enough, so he didn't answer. Instead, he changed the subject. "I'm moving to Columbus."

            Georgie put his hands on his hips in protest. "No! I won't get to see the baby? I was wondering what was with the moving truck. Oh, I should have known!"

            Raz looked him in the face, attempting to get the man to be somewhat serious. "If you come with me, I'll set you up with somewhere to live, and I'll pay you, if you'll, you know, do stuff around the house, and help with the baby. I haven't the slightest when it comes to what to do with babies."

            Georgie's face lit up. "Really? You'll pay me? How much?"

            "How much do you want?"

            He squinted, realizing that he'd fallen into a good deal, and not really caring that he had to move a few hours away to collect on it. "We'll negotiate later." Maybe he would go drinking with the guy again, and then negotiate. That was always a good way to go. But he'd have to get it into writing, just incase he didn't remember. Either way, this was a lovely opportunity, he could see. "Oh, how fun! Getting paid to be a nanny!"

 

            Later that day, Raz drove the moving truck, and Georgie drove his own car, with Jocelyn safely in her carseat. He drove up to the apartment complex, and they spent the evening unloading. By the time they were done, they were exhausted. The baby slept in three-hour spells, only waking up to eat, and poop an unbeleivable amount of something that looked a lot like charcoal.

            After everything was more or less in its place, Georgie said good-night, and went to his own apartment, leaving Raz and Jocelyn alone for the first time. The demon felt like running away, and screaming for help, but instead he bent down over the little creature in its crib. She was sleeping happily, and he sighed, thinking that this was a little easier, at least, than he had thought it would be at first. Now what was he supposed to do? He'd gotten permission to stay on Earth for a while, and he thought to himself that there was no reason for anyone to be suspicious of him if he went ahead and did it. But he couldn't just sit around in an apartment in Columbus. He would have to at least feign a reason as to why he suddenly enjoyed it here so much.

            He took a moment to think, asking himself what he really did find interesting. History, that was it. In the meantime, he could go to school for history, and try to figure out everything he'd missed in all the time that he was gone. He could tell the other demons that he was there to learn, and study, and they wouldn't find it too far out of his nature to do so. After all, he already knew the entire history of hell, and even a bit of heaven. What had he left to learn about? There. Tomorrow he'd go and enroll in classes at wherever it was he'd set up for Monty to go. That was good. He was pretty sure that was the same school where Penemue was a professor. There, he thought, sitting down on his new sofa, everything worked out eventually.

            He looked at the clock, and went into the kitchen to boil some water. This way he would have plenty of perfectly good, sterilized water, should the baby need fed. He wondered if she even could get sick anyways. In fact, he had lots of questions about her, but he would have to wait and see to get his answers. Raz had never known exactly how much he hated waiting until now, but it was something he had a feeling he would just have to get used to. He could only deal with the here and now, and try not to think about anything further into the future. Tomorrow, he thought, he'd go see Penemue, if he could find the fellow, and try to set some more things into motion.

            He was about to begin putting some more little things away when Jocelyn stirred. She didn't begin crying immediately, he had learned that she rarely woke up crying, but simply making noises. He went over to the crib and picked her up, cradling her the way Georgie did, as delicately and supportively as he could. She looked up at him, and suddenly stopped her fussing. He looked down at her, equally quiet, wondering if she wanted something, if she knew something he didn't. A picture flashed in his mind, quick and soft, and he had to think a moment to figure out what it meant. The picture was colors, flowing, light and warm, and comforting. He mixed up a bottle of formula, and hoped that this was what she had been trying to tell him that she wanted.

            As he fed her, he looked into her little eyes, so much like his own. He sighed. "So, you have the powers of telepathy... what else have you inherited from me? Can you control fire? Change your shape? Create illusions?" He thought of the situations that might arise, should any of these things happen. "I have a feeling you are going to have to be watched closely... all the time." He thought now that it was very convinient that he didn't need sleep, and even better that she did.

            Perhaps he would buy some baby books the next day as well. He would like to know about human babies and what to do with them, so he could at least attempt not to fail miserably at this whole thing. Besides, then he would be able to tell when they were supposed to do things. He liked to know what to expect, and the fact that he'd thought she would  be walking by now was not a good sign at all.

 

            "How did you two do last night?" asked Georgie early the next morning as he handed Raz a cup of coffee.

            "Uh, good. She sleeps a lot," Raz replied.

            "Good, be thankful," replied Georgie. "So where is it that you have to go... or can't you tell me?"

            "Oh, I'm going to sign up for classes, and visit a friend," he replied. "If you need me, I'm going to have a cell phone with me. So call, if anything goes wrong at all," he added. Technology wasn't that hard to grasp, at least. He liked advances like computers, even if cars admittedly made him a little uncomfortable. Phones were the handiest of things, since humans didn't use telepathy at all.

            Georgie sat down at the little table, sipping his own coffee and enjoying the warmth. "Classes, huh? Over at OSU?"

            "Yep," the demon replied. "I don't really need to go to school for anything, but I've always wanted to learn more about Earth's history, you know? Maybe there's at least something interesting there."

            "Oh, yeeah. I've never been interested in history myself, but I guess you'll have to learn something that makes it worthwhile," Georgie said with a shrug. Then, a moment later, "You know, that's where I went to school."

            "Really?" he replied. He didn't care, and hoped the subject dropped soon, although it could possibly be a useful peice of information in the future, he imagined.

            "Yeah," Georgie went on happily, "I went there for basic studies, studio art, business management, general education... I couldn't decide on a major. Then I dropped out. I'd rather be a chef or a bartender than any of those harder jobs, and if you can do them well they pay the same, ya know?"

005 - 3,660 words

Raz went back downstairs and followed the music again, hoping he wasn't spending too much time in the small audience the band had in the hallway. He sat around, trying his best not to really be noticed, and just listened and watched. The best way to learn how to do something was to see it done, so he observed those nearby, to see what it was humans thought about.

            He found that his friend had been right, they were indeed quite concerned about money. But that wasn't the most of their concerns. They also worried about jobs, their machines (whether it be a vehicle, a computer, or virtually anything else that took electricity), and, most of all, their relationships. Family, love, friends, it was all they talked about. They didn't speak of war unless they knew someone involved in it. Everything they did, good or bad, was for someone else. He wondered what Hell would be like with female angels, and decided that it would be far more complicated than his father or anyone else would be able to handle. They made no sense, and seemed infuriated or excited by the most unexpected things, even to themselves.

            He watched as one woman with an intricate dress and very long, wavy hair passed by. It was a beautiful costume. Its wearer looked over at him, and smiled a little. "You like it?" she asked. Taken away from his thoughts and studies, Raz smiled back, almost glad for a break. Humans were so incredibly confusing.

            "Yes, miss, it's beautiful."

            The person laughed, and looked at her friend, who was standing at her side, dressed as a male character. Then she turned back. "Oh sweetie, I'm not a 'miss'," she (he) said.

            Raz ruffled his eyebrows, and then got the hint. "Oh," he said, then turning his gaze to the person next to the man in the dress.

            The man laughed, and said, "Oh, I'm a man too, don't worry."

            They sat down next to him, and Georgie took off his wig. "Man, that thing made my head itch during the entire competition."

            "What competition," Raz started, and then remembered what Alara had mentioned to him, and added, "Oh, the costume one... did you win?"

            He shook his head, furiously scratching his short hair, and then pointed to a woman in a green outfit down the hall. She had elf ears and green hair. "No, that whore did. Look, it isn't even that great... she probably didn't even make it herself."

            Raz looked at her, thinking that indeed she was one of the prettiest wierd things he'd seen here. He wasn't sure that this was necessarily a good thing, as she was more wierd than she was pretty. Either way, he wasn't about to say any of this aloud.

            "Women, they are whores," said the man dressed like a man.

            "Tell me about it," said Raz, with a laugh.

            "Oh, honey, you are on our side? You need to work on your gaydar," said Georgie.

            "My... what? What do you mean on your side?"

            Georgie gave him a smile and elbowed him softly. "Do you like women, or not?"

            "Uh, I guess I don't know," he said, wondering what exactly this man was getting at.

            The gay friends exchanged glances, announcing that he was on the fence, and that they'd just have to turn him. There was giggling, and then Georgie held out a hand. "My name's Georgie, and this is Seth. We were just going over to the hotel's bar for a drink, and you are coming with us."

            What was with humans, just thinking that they could command anyone to do anything, and get away with it just because they smiled? Then, they were being nice in their own way, so he stood when they did. "My name is Raz."

            "You do drink, right honey?" asked the man man.

            "Oh, yeah," he replied immediately. It was about the only activity on Earth that he knew how to do properly, as far as he could see. Besides, when those around him had been drinking, he didn't have to be quite as careful about what he said and did sounding purely human. He followed them down the hall, catching Alara's gaze as she continued on singing, wondering if she would know where to find him. Then again, they didn't have to leave until the next night, so he supposed he had all the time he wanted. He even had a room to go back to this time. Things were working out better than he'd expected.

            Georgie and Seth drank for a while, starting out slow, and cheering for an American football team on the television. He liked what these people called soccer, but this game seemed a little sillier. Everyone was always falling down, and stopping, then starting again. Why didn't they just keep going? It seemed to take a lot of unneccesary time. Like it or not, after a while he was cheering with the crowd, careful not to cheer for the wrong team, and often forgetting which color his new friends liked.

            "So are you from here?" asked Georgie, when Seth was involved in another conversation.

            "Oh, no, I'm from..." he tried desperately to think of a random place, and then remembered Penemue in Columbus. "I'm from Columbus."

            "Oh, come down just for the convention? That's what... two, three hours away?"

            "No, I didn't even expect to come here. I'm actually looking for someone. My friends and I are going to find this woman tomorrow." He looked up, at Georgie's confused frown, and felt that it was obvious that he had to explain further. "Women are trouble, and this one isn't any exception. She's having my kid."

            Georgie gave out an excited squeal, which was so alarming that the entire room quieted for a moment. He didn't notice, however, and just kept going. "A baby! When is she due?"

            "I don't know, I think probably a few months."

            "Can I babysit... I just loooove babies!" It was more of a statement than a question. Georgie turned around and tapped rapidly on Seth's shoulder. "Hey hey, our new friend is pregnant!"

            Seth announced that there were to be shots for the three of them and the person he was talking to, and congradulated him.

            Georgie, who was now basically uncontrollable, even by himself, continued to offer his services. "Do you need anything? My sister just had one, and she has all sorts of stuff and clothes and all that. They grow out of everything so fast."

            Raz thought about it, wondering how much such a small creature could possibly need. "Hmm, actually, I don't know about her, but I don't have anything. I don't even know what a baby" needs... at all."

            "Oh dear," said Georgie, obviously willing to solve this problem. Then he continued, sternly, while writing down something on a napkin. "Well, after you find her, call this number, and I'll help you with that."

            "Okay," he said, taking the napkin, and putting it in a pocket. Not that he needed it, he had the number memorized already. This would be good. He would need help, although he hadn't given the actual baby a lot of thought yet. It would be best to take this one step at a time. First, find the human female. Then figure out what to do next.

 

            He never knew how he found the correct room, but he did remember ending up there, where Monty and Plant were already situated, each in one bed, for the night. He remembered what Serena had said. Leave the money on the dresser. Maybe this was some sort of ritual for humans, he thought, pulling out some papers and turning them into the correct amount of money. He didn't have enough sense or energy to change his clothes, only to make his wings disappear before he curled up on the floor to sleep.

            When he woke up, Plant was nudging him gently with a toe, and there was a blanket lying over him. He also had a pillow, but he was pretty sure that had been there when he'd gone to sleep. He still didn't have wings, and his suitcase was in the corner of the room where he'd left it.

            Raz looked up at the little man's pale face, and groaned. He meant to say, "Well, I feel a lot less awake than usual, would you happen to have any coffee?" but instead the groan was all that came out.

            "We're going downstairs for breakfast. You slept in your clothes."

            At first Raz wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about either statement, then he leaned up, and rubbed his eyes until they were clear again. "Waffles. Do they have waffles?" He wasn't even sure where he'd heard about waffles, but they sounded like they would be good, and he was all for trying things that were new. Especially since this was also relatively safe.

            They did have waffles, and over those, with loads of butter and syrup, as well as some coffee, he told them that he'd met a guy named Georgie, and had a long night. They laughed, proclaiming that they both understood. He sort of doubted that Plant really did.

            "I didn't wake you guys up last night coming in, did I?" He already knew the answer, but he wanted to seem concerned. They both said no, they didn't even know he was there the whole night. After a while, he changed the subject. "I'm going to go find her tonight, when Alara is done playing with the band here."

            "I bet we could find her at the Flounder Pounder."        

            Plant looked at Monty, and laughed a little at the name. "The what?" Raz was thinking the same thing.

            Monty seemed almost embarrased to say the name. "Its, you know, its a little strip club, but from what I hear, they do more than strip. If Serena isn't there, maybe someone there will know where she is. Clients, or the other women."

            Raz raised his eyebrows, thinking that this was probably as good a place to start as any. He would have to confirm that this would be alright with Alara first, not that he really needed her to come on this excursion. But he felt that she would be useful in the future, since she seemed so willing to help. He had yet to admit that he liked her company. "Sounds good to me," he said.

            "Me too," mumbled Plant, grinning as he doodled something on a handy notepad. This strip club would be the first for all three of them. Plant hadn't ever considered one before, and Monty had only remotely thought that when his older brother finally did get married, that he'd probably have to throw him a bachelor party at one.

            Raz consumed his waffles seemingly all at once, glad that breakfast here was a buffet. The more he thought, it seemed, the faster his food magially disappeared. Inside his head, he was only beginning to plan what he might do after they hunted Serena down. He wasn't sure how he had managed to find so many helpful humans, and supposed it must be luck. Either way, he wasn't willing to let go of any of them.

            Would Serena and the little one want to come with him somewhere else? Would they want to stay here? Would he want to stay on Earth with them even if she was quite alright with the idea? After all, he had other things to do. He had swords to make, and only so much time to be up here. He couldn't keep up the facade of going back and fourth between the two dementions for very long. Eventually others would figure out that he wasn't really going to a fake job or whatever, and there would be unexplainable things to explain. Besides that, his father would know that he was up to something, and would probably send someone to investigate the situation. He sighed, noticing that his plate was empty.

            "Man, haven't you eaten this year?" asked Monty.

            He laughed, assuming that this was some sort of joke. Humans had to eat every day, he was pretty sure. "Eh, I was just hungry." He liked these two. Plant was always preoccupied, and that made him vulnerable. Monty seemed suspicious, but fairly smart. That, and he was a pretty big fellow. He was thinking already that he would probably end up using this fellow as some sort of guardian, when he couldn't be around himself. If he did decide to stay with the woman and the baby, he'd have to be on constant lookout for curious demons, or even angels. Alara, well, he needed her because she was female, and would know about the things women knew about, like other women, and babies. That was what they did, right? The odd one, who didn't seem to be sure what gender he was, he had the stuff.

 

            By the time they all got around to leaving, the humans were tired. He wasn't sure how long they were supposed to go without sleep, but none of them complained. Alara had caffiene to keep her going, and explained with a grin that she was used to such conditions. Monty and Plant, although neither would admit it, were simply excited about the adventure involved in going to a strip club. Since they had an excuse, they didn't even have to be embarrassed about it.

            Monty drove, since Plant couldn't drive (he had a lisence, but God only knows how he got it), and all Alara had to do was explain what her vehicle was like. All of them went there thinking that this would probably take a few hours. They would become consumed by a world full of breasts and beer, and become comfortable in their environment. Even having finished their business, they would sit back, having nothing better to do, and tip the ladies as well as they could.

            This was not what happened. Not at all.

            As soon as they entered, they all had the urge to leave as quickly as possible. The women were, to put it lightly, hideous. Their breasts sagged, if they had any, and their fat sagged more. They were odd, inhuman shapes, and the fact that they were trying to dance only exaggerated this fact. The lights were dim, thankfully, and they had only invested in a few lights along the stage for whoever happened to be there. There were a number of large men in black outfits, obviously bouncers, and a few other people, in suits. The clientelle was the sort who thought that even these women were out of their league, for the most part. There were many older men who looked like they had probably spent far too much time here, and there were some college-age kids, hooting and hollaring. The place was pretty crowded. Raz thought that they must have good food, to still be getting customers. Then again, everyone here was drunk enough not to know the difference, and it was still relatively early.

            Raz, although he didn't realize it as he tried to take everything in, had basically stopped functioning. He had walked in, and was now just standing there, gaping openly at everything that was going on. Not in amazement, but in amusement. All he had to do was set the place on fire, and he would be right at home. But humans didn't generally like that sort of thing, so he didn't.

            Monty and Plant were in about the same state of malfunction. Plant, for once, was not doing anything, not even playing with a handheld game, or trying to write something down, or figure something out. He was just looking, and contemplating hiding behind his taller friend. Monty studied the scene carefully, then studied his friends carefully. They didn't seem to be doing anything, but he didn't blame them. This place was seedy. Could it possibly be what they were looking for? He felt that it was his fault for leading them in such a hopeless suggestion, and glanced at the door. Probably, he would have to be the one to tell them to leave, this was a stupid idea, and surely they wouldn't find the information they needed. He opened his mouth to announce this, when he saw Alara push past them, and walk over to a topless waitress.

            "Excuse me?" she said, with a smile. "We're looking for a woman." The lady put a hand on her hip and listened as Alara got a little closer, and briefly explained the situation. She shook her head, and held up her hand as she apologized. She wasn't sure she knew a Serena. Alara thanked her anyways, and went on to the next lady.

            She had gone through most of the women when finally a bouncer came over, and put his huge hand on her shoulder. Monty and Raz both saw this, and instinctually rushed to her side. "Is there a problem?" asked Raz, sure he could take care of this himself, but still glad to see that Monty could be trusted enough to be found at his side.

            "No no," said the bouncer, and they both relaxed as he smiled. Monty noted that somewhere along the way they had lost Plant, and hoped that he would be alright. The huge man continued. He was stocky and bald, and was missing a few teeth. "I was just explaining to m'lady that I heard who she was looking for, and I might be able to help."

            "You know where Serena is?" asked Raz, folding his arms.

            "Yeah, I was with her sister for a stretch, if we're talking about the same Serena," he replied. Then he wrote down the adress on a napkin, and handed it to Alara. She thanked him sweetly, patting his arm as though he were a little puppy, and the lot of them were on their way. By the time they remembered Plant again, he was in front of them, already escaping through the front doors. Raz took the napkin, wondering what was with humans and writing things nearly illegibly on napkins when they had perfectly good paper, and tried to figure out where this place might be.

            Plant pulled his laptop out, and typed. Then he turned it toward the demon. "Mapquest," he said, simply. There were directions, and a map, and everything you could possibly need, aside from landmarks along the way. He smiled, and pointed to it for Monty, who nodded, and got back into the driver's seat. Raz was almost starting to be alright with this place. As crazy as the strip club was, they had mighty handy things up here, not the least of which was this "Mapquest" phenomenon.

            After going in circles for a while, since the apartment building didn't have a number on the front of it, they eventually figured out which building she was in. All he would have to do was figure out which number it was, and he thought maybe he rememered at least where the room was, vaguely. He remembered going up one flight of steps, and then going to the end of the hall. Then turning left. He took a deep breath, and stared at the front door. "Do you want us to wait here, or go, or... what?" asked Monty, mildly. Raz looked at him, then looked away again as he thought.

            He didn't need them in there, did he? No, he was a demon, who lived with chaos and torture, he could handle a little task like this without the comfort of his new friends. He cursed this Earth for making him weak, and then slowly shook his head. "Wait here, if you would please. I'll be back soon." He had to do this alone.

            Razael was right about the floor, he was sure of it. He went to the end of the long hallway, and knocked timidly on the door. He remembered himself, and tried to look as friendly and human as possible. The woman who opened the door was not Serena, and he wasn't sure if she lived with those other women who had been there before or not. "Does Serena live here?" She raised an eyebrow, and took a puff of a cigarrette.

            "Who might you be, mister?" She asked, and not with a great amount of kindness.

            "I'm... Raz, Andrew's friend-" he was cut off as the woman slapped him across the face with the back of her hand.

            He held his cheek, as though it hurt, and feigned surprise. Good thing Azazel had prepared him for this sort of thing, or he might have thrown this woman out of the building's window. "You are a bastard," she continued. "What do you want?"

            "Where is she? I'm trying to be responsible here," he said.

            "She's at the hospital, giving birth to your fucking spawn, boy. If you were responsible, you'd be here before now." She attempted to shut the door, but he caught it, now genuinely suprised.

            "What do you mean, its only been like three months!"

004 - 3,406 words

Everything is equally as good as it is bad, as painful as it is useful. Teleportation, as it were, took a lot of power. The life of the fallen angels would have been far easier if they could teleport to wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. The fact was, though, that it would have broken them up into millions of little peices, if all the power of Hell was not literally behind them. They could draw from the fires to go to a place, and they could draw from them after they got back. But if Hell wasn't involved... well, a person could end up with an eternal headache, limbs in incorrect places, or, in a good case, loss of energy available for the next few months.

            So, once he'd come to Cincinatti, Ohio, The United States of America, The Earth, Razael was somewhat helplessly lost, and couldn't try again. Game over, now you have to do things the hard way. The only place he knew to visualize and go to was the place they'd arrived from last time. This time, he was alone. He knew the way to the bar, but after that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to find Serena again. Razael looked around, and exited the alleyway. It was daylight, and for some reason, young teens were everywhere, dressed idiotically. Then again, everyone dressed idiotically. He supposed it must be normal.

            He started off to the bar, just around the corner and down a block, and mostly managed to avoid the confused gaze of the other humans. One young lady's eyes caught his, though, and held them. He had a sudden urge to snarl, to give her a good thwack across the mouth. No one looked at him like that in hell. That look said that he was obviously an idiot. She stopped a few feet from him. "You're lost, aren't you?"

            Was it really that obvious? She smiled, then, and put her hands on her hips, and he realized, with a great amount of suprise, that she actually was not insulting him. He tried to smile back, a little, and succeeded. It was a mild little grin, and his flaming eyes danced with it. "How did you know?"

            "Your wings give you away, dear. Come on, I'll take you where you need to go," said the young girl, as she tossed her hair back, and touched his arm, as though to turn him in the other direction.

            They both began walking again, and Razael could feel himself panicking. His father was going to kill him if he gave himself away up here and messed things up somehow. "Do you know who I am?" he said, almost in disbeleif.

            "I haven't the slightest who you are supposed to be. I'd like to say Sephiroth, but he has only one wing, and longer hair. Its silver. No, you can't be him. I thought you just liked wings or something. They look really real, you know?" she said, grinning widely. She was wearing a simple outfit, a tank top, a skirt, and her boots. A guitar case hung at her back, and Razael was momentarily proud of himself for being able to identify it. At least music was something he was familiar with. He looked her in the face, glad that she thought his wings were fake.

            "You like them?" he asked, playing along.

            "Of course. You should enter the costume party with those. They are just so beautiful. You probably won't win because the rest of you isn't too fancy, no offense." She then looked up into his face again, and something hit her. Those eyes, grey with red flecks, it was so strange... "Oh, I know you!" she said, stopping suddenly.

            He was alarmed all over again. "You do?"

            "Yes, you are Andrew's friend, with the contacts. I was the bartender, Alara."

            "Oh," he said, releived. Then, as an afterthought, "Oh, these aren't contacts." He had noted a long time ago that other humans didn't tend to have eyes with much contrast within them. The eyes of angels tended to be much harsher in general. Sometimes they were very light, or very dark, but they all looked unique compared to each other. "Its, uh, you know, like a really rare genetic thing."

            She nodded. "Cool. So what brings you to the convention?"

            He wanted to ask what sort of convention this might be, but he had a feeling that would be a bad idea. Obviously wings were not normal, and this convention had costume contests... she had to think it was where he was going. "Oh, I was just looking to find someone." He decided to change the subject, so she didn't ask any more questions. "So you play guitar?"

            Alara was glad he had noticed. She needed to spread the word and gain a bit of a following so that she would be able to stop going to unpaid gigs like this one. "Yeah, yeah. I play a lot of instruments, actually. And sing. If only I could make any money at it, it would be a great job." She gave out her wide smile again, and he smiled too. He could feel himself relaxing. Maybe she would help him find Serena.

            They came to the wide doors of a hotel. Lots of people seemed to have extra appendages. Tails, wings, and extra legs came from every other person. There were people with dyed hair and wigs, odd outfits in general, some beautiful, some homemade, and most that didn't fit correctly, one way or another. She excused herself to set things up with a few other members of a band, and he wandered off into the masses.

            As far as he could see, it was a convention for people to gather who liked a particular sort of art, which they had labeled as Anime. In the next few hours, he was glad to have been born an angel, and not a human, as he wasn't sure he would have survived, had he only their average intelligence. But, as it were, he managed to figure out what to do quite quickly.

            He created himself a badge, for one thing, because everyone else had them, and he could see, here and there, people checking for them. It said "Raz" on it. He hung it around his neck. Then he followed people here and there, in and out of crowded rooms. There were "Anime" artworks being displayed in the hallways, and cartoons in the rooms. There were items in the style being sold in one particularly large room. There was also food. Since he had a lot of paper, he was able to create just about an endless supply of money. So, he bought himself some sticks of something with chocolate on it. That was good. So he bought himself some ball of something with icecream in it. It was bad. Not the ice cream, but whatever was on the outside. Someone was selling an energy drink labeled "Balls", and he bought one of those.

            He sat down in the hallway, next to a young kid on a laptop, who was also playing a game. He ate some more of the sticks with chocolate, apparently called Pocky, and looked over at the asian boy. "So, how long is human female gestiation?"

            "Huh?" Plant glanced over, then looked back at his game. "Uh, nine months, I think."

            "Thanks."

            "Is your wife pregnant?" he asked, after a pause that was too long.

            Razael had been deep in thought, by now, and was suprised that the boy was still paying any sort of attention to him. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to his arrival. "Oh, no. I mean, she's not my wife, but actually..." he shrugged, wondering if he should be telling just anyone about something he meant to keep a secret from the abyss beneath them. "Well, its sort of a long story."

            At that moment, a taller young man, with brown hair, appeared above them. Plant closed the laptop and got up. "Where do you want to eat, Plant?" he asked, and then noticed the winged person at his side. "Oh, hi, you hungry?"

            He wasn't sure what hungry felt like, so he decided he wasn't. "No, no, I was actually planning on going to see if the band is set up yet." He gave them each a nod, and tried to look friendly as he wandered off.

            "Maybe we'll see you there in a bit then," said the person whose nametag said "Monty", assuming that he was a freind of Plant's. Plant never bothered to correct him, since it really wasn't necessary.

            Into the masses he went again, and wove his way back to the hallway that led to the building's entrance. The band had set up there, and was jovially playing a montage of requests for music he'd never heard before. Not that it was bad. He sat down, on the floor, in the midst of the rest of the odd audience members. It reminded him of being young, and learning to sing and play all those instruments. One of the things that angels and their counterparts had in common was that they both played music, and sought to spread the art throughout the world. He wasn't sure whose success this was, but someone had done a very good job.

            He watched Alara play her guitar, and then he heard her sing, a few times. She was pretty, not in the same way that the whore was pretty, but in the way that a young girl running through a field of flowers is pretty. She made him feel happy, dissolved his problems, and all she had to do was smile. She looked around the room, catching the eyes of a few men and holding them. Razael wondered why she gave away her looks and secret glances so freely, but only for a moment. Of course, just as the angel of greed had told him, the one thing humans sought was money. There was not a single thing in the world that didn't have a price. Except, on occasion, a mother's child. Now it seemed like he was right, Razael thought. He looked at the other men, searching for a hungry face, and found only the dumbfounded human stare.

            He could only smile himself, then, realizing that she knew these men were harmless. Harmless men, a good tip, maybe it was worth a smile. It was hardly for him to say.

            A boy behind the drum set stood up and announced that they would be taking a short break, and thanked them, and told them to please come back. The crowd clapped and dispursed, and the band washed away into the crowd.

            "You have an excellent voice," Raz said. She did, for a human, but he was really just saying it because he didn't have anything better to say.

            She looked up from the papers she was stashing and organizing in the guitar case. She unslung the guitar and put it back in the case as well, then stood up. "Thank you. I don't think I remember your name, Andrew's friend."

            "Raz... just call me Raz," he said, holding the nametag up.

            "Ah, okay then," she nodded, and began walking. "How about you buy me some dinner, Raz?"

            He was taken aback by the obvious demand. It wasn't as though she was saying he had to, it was a question, after all. But she made it clear that she expected him to do it. It was against his nature to do what human beings thought he should for no apparent reason, so he raised an eyebrow almost playfully. "And what do I get if I do?"

            "Probably nothing, why?" she said.

            "How about if I buy you dinner, you help me find someone?"

            She considered this for a moment, looking up and putting a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "Fine, that would be fine. When?"

            "When are you done here?"

            "Humm, tomorrow night."

            "After that, then."

            With that settled, he bought her some food, and she ate, and talked most of the time while doing so. He ate more too, just because he had nothing better to do. They sat together in peace, mostly, until Plant was suddenly standing by their table, pointing at Raz and saying, good-naturedly, "Hey, thought you weren't hungry, huh?"

            "Turns out I could eat," Raz replied, motioning him to sit. Monty appeared next to him, at first confused as to why his friend had stopped, and then recognizing the winged person from earlier.

            "Oh, hey there," said Monty, watching Plant sit down at the angel's side. He took a seat next to Alara, and introduced himself. Then he looked back at Raz. "So are you supposed to an angel?"

            "Sort of, I suppose."

            "Are angel wings supposed to be greyish like that?" He hoped he wasn't being obtrusive. Probably, he'd bought white ones, and they had just faded or otherwise gotten messed up in the construction process.

            "Oh, sometimes." he said, smiling softly again. It was a smile that made Monty feel like he was being examined very closely. A smile that knew too much. He decided to be quiet.

            Alara, succeeding in eating amazingly huge amounts of food at a time with chopsticks, continued with her conversation with Razael. "So do you have somewhere to stay tonight then?"

            He thought about it. He could have arranged things better. "No, I don't, actually."

            "Can you pay?" asked Plant.

            "How much?" he asked in return, pretending it mattered. You always had to pretend that money mattered, if you were going to pretend to be a human.

            "Fifty bucks."

            "Fifty-three, actually. That is, if you want to room with us for the night," corrected Monty.

            He smiled. "I'll pay for your whole room, if you'll help me and Alara here find someone."

            Monty could feel a catch coming on. He didn't like to ask a lot of questions, but he didn't like getting caught in a deal he didn't understand either. "That's alright, just pay your share, but thanks for the offer. Anyhow, its room 206. " He gave a polite smile and started to get up. "I've got to go, I have a show to see. Plant, you coming?"

            "Yeah, uh, yeah."

            They said their good-byes, for the moment, and Alara and the angel were alone again. They ate for a little while, enjoying the silence, and then she announced that she had to go back to the band, tossed her empty food container in the trash, and disappeared. Raz was alone again, with more time to spare.

            He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing, so he decided to go find the room. Plant had slipped him a card with a room number on it. Obviously it was the key as well, and he might as well go and see if it worked, and what was there. He rode in the elevator alone, using the short amount of time to conjure a  black suitcase like he had seen many people toting around. What would a fellow like him, like his human identity, have in a suitcase? He created an illusion of a few changes of clothes, making a note in his mind to get some real ones sometime soon. What else did humans need? Maybe he would take a look at Monty and Plant's stuff, if they weren't there.

            It turned out, that they were there. They had a few people gathered around a small table, some sitting on the bed next to it, and the others in chairs. They were apparently playing a game, which included dice and a lot of imagination. Instead of moving peices around on a board, they were all describing what they were doing. He raised an eyebrow, and thought it would probably best not to ask. As intelligent as he was, he was beginning to find that there were some questions better left unasked around here.

            "Are you all staying here?" he asked, trying to be friendly, and wondering how they were going to fit everyone in two beds. He wasn't sure if humans were comfortable being so close to each other, and he knew that he wasn't. He could sleep on the floor, if he needed to.

            "Oh, no, no," a few people answered, remotely at the same time. "We're staying in the hotel," said one young man, jesturing to himself and the other two men. "But not here, in this room."

            "Okay then," he replied, still wondering where everyone was supposed to sleep. Then again, he didn't need to sleep, if he didn't want to, so Raz didn't worry too much about it.

            Monty, who appeared to be leading the game, and kept asking the others what they were doing, invited him over. "Hey, you want something to drink?"

            "Yes," he said, and grabbed something in an orange can. Then he remembered his manners. "Thanks." Orange soda. He seriously doubted that it actually contained oranges, and he was correct.

            "Is it your wife?" asked Plant, out of nowhere, apparently thinking that he was making perfect sense.

            "Eh... what?" he found himself replying, having no idea whatsoever what he was talking about. He didn't even have a wife.

            "The person you need to find later."

            "Oh," he said, feeling like they were continuing a conversation from earlier. "Well, she isn't my wife... but. Eh, its hard to explain."

            "So its a girl," someone said, and they all gave a sort of grave nod. "They always get everyone mixed up in trouble." Monty continued the thought. "What happened that you lost her? Did she run off?" He smirked at the thought, but inside was hoping that she hadn't run away from this fellow, because that would make him a stalker.

            Trouble, now that couldn't be closer to the truth. "Well, I didn't lose her. I mean, I just never knew her in the first place. I only met her once."

            "Ohhh," said a light haired boy, younger than the rest, "so its a love at first sight deal?" They all giggled, seeming to remember this or that girl who had given them their own share of trouble in the past.

            "Not really," Raz said, sitting down. He would have to tell them, he supposed. What could it hurt, anyhow? They didn't have connections in Hell. He looked at his feet for a moment, and then back up. "I spent a night with her once, and I guess I just have bad luck, from what my buddy says..." To his suprise, he didn't have to say anything else. Every one of them, possibly with the exception of Plant, got the idea from that.

            Monty remembered that he had asked for their help in finding the woman. "Well, do you know her name?" he asked, curiously. Maybe he could help after all.

            "Serena... I don't know her last name. She lives somewhere within walking distance of here." He could sense that Monty, at least, had changed his mind about whether or not to help him, now that he knew what he was finding. Maybe the information was helping. "I don't remember the place that well, from the outside. There were yellow walls and hallways that went on forever...  but that doesn't help, does it?"

            He remembered that she'd wanted him to pay her, and added, "Oh, and even better, she was a whore."

            A few of the young men exchanged glances, and Monty eventually announced that he could at least guess where he needed to be. The angel told him when he was leaving, and that Alara was going to help too, then looked at his illusion of a watch, announced that he was going to go, and would be back later, and departed.

            Maybe it was a little too bold to release all that information, but either way, it was getting him some more help. The way things were going, he would probably need all the help he could get. He should have asked Azazel more questions. How long had she been pregnant? Where did she live? What was her last name? Anything would have been helpful, but of course he simply hadn't asked enough.

003 - 3155

Frank had stayed the night. The two of them had made out relentlessly for the vast majority of the time, and now that he was gone, Georgie wasn't sure how he felt. Mostly, he was angry with himself. Why couldn't he just wait until the time was right? Show some restraint?

            He reasoned that maybe this really was the right one, that Frank was genuine and sweet, and that they both were the same sort of person. They'd been happy together, talking all night long, and feeling so free to share their emotions with one another. He gave a sigh, not even bothering to hope that this wouldn't end the same as the rest of his relationships. Hoping just seemed to leave room for him to be let down easier.

            Georgie had to be at work in an hour. It only took him fifteen minutes to get there, but he hadn't showered yet. He'd spent most of the morning considering the inside of the toilet bowl.

            He looked at his watch, even though he already knew what time it was, and decided that he might as well get cleaned up. He could pick up a coffee at McDonalds. He noted to himself to get a coffee maker sometime later, as he would probably get quite a bit of use out of one. Then he ate a bowl of cereal before following through with this plan.

            All he could do was hope that this silly feeling would wear away as his hangover did. After all, he was supposed to be all stupid and in love and glowing like usual, right? Maybe going to work would help his mood a little. Then again, it was more than likely that he'd be fine while he was there, and then he'd just come home and go back to feeling like this again. He wondered if everyone felt this hopeless and idiotic, and supposed that everyone must at some point. Maybe when he came home, he would take a nap, and then resolve to be more positive about his life. Because, of course, whether he liked to admit it or not, this feeling and all his relationships were probably his own fault anyways. Maybe he was one of those people who liked misery after all.

            Georgie beleived that there was some sort of balance in the world. There just had to be some unwritten rule somewhere that said everyone was just as good as they were evil, and that since yesterday had been horrible, last night hadn't been so bad. This morning was horrible, so surely it could only get better from here.

            It wasn't.

            He was late to work, there was an accident blocking the road, and in fact even without the accident obstructing him, he probably would still have been late. As it was, he'd been late enough times to piss off the manager, and the two of them ended up in a yelling fight. Besides that, it was a Saturday, and everyone was at the restaurant, all day. He spent what seemed like endless hours cooking the same things over and over again, trying to make the food look as pretty and presentable as possible when he could, and getting screamed at by waiters and managers. The food could only cook so quickly, he would yell at them. It wasn't his fault that things like this simply could not happen instantaneously. The head manager and he avoided each other, though, and after a while the monotonous business keeping his mind and body occupied became a wierd sort of therapy. He wondered if this was what acupuncture was like. Maybe all those little needles poking you everywhere hurt just enough to take your mind off of everything else, without doing any perminent damage. Then again, they weren't actually supposed to hurt at all, he'd heard. He was still skeptical about this.

            Georgie wondered why he worked so hard at this stupid job. What did he care, how quickly people got their food? He didn't have to look at them, waiting idly, running out of things to say and getting angry about it. He wouldn't have to explain to them why it didn't taste as good as they had wanted, and they probably didn't notice if he didn't decorate things the way he did.

            But he did. He went the extra mile, and it was for his co-workers. He'd been employed here since high school, had basically grown up working with the other cooks, the waiters, and the waitresses. Even the cleaning ladies that came in at night recognized and liked him. He smiled for them, he got everything done on time for them, so they wouldn't have to deal with the angry customers, so that they would not be unhappy. Realizing that he actually liked making people happy was quite the revelation for Georgie, and he smiled himself for the rest of the day, stressful though it was.

 

            Some months after their excursion, Razael had actually forgotten about it, Azazel came sidling up to him once again. Raz didn't notice until he spoke, but wasn't really surprised. There weren't many things that happened down here with reason or warning, so he was used to such things.

            "Starting a new one are you?"

            He looked up, then looked back. In fact, he had. He'd finished the other sword, finally, only a few weeks ago. It took forever to make them perfect and sharp and beautiful, and he had quite a few to go, according to his father. He'd be working just about forever, it seemed to him, but that wasn't really so bad. "Yep," he replied simply, knowing that Azazel would eventually get to whatever he wanted or had to say.

            "How many have you made?"

            He thought about it. "A few hundred, I think."

            Azazel nodded, and for a moment stood awkwardly silent. "So, I went back to that place on Earth, the one I took you to."

            Raz looked up, and put down the sword. "Really? The bar?" He wondered if they would even remember him if he were to come back.

            "No, not the bar. The, uh, the other place."

            Ah, the place with the women. That was a scary, wierd place. His palms got sweaty all over again, but of course Azazel wouldn't notice, since they had already been sweating from working for hours. He tried to act as though it didn't phase him, and nodded. "Yeah?" What else was he supposed to say?

            "Serena remembered you."

            So that was her name, he thought. "Oh yeah? What did she say about me?" He smiled a little, secretly hoping, although he didn't know why, for some compliment on his performance.

            "Not much, mostly she slapped me." Azazel said. He waited a second or two, and then slapped Razael, somewhat timidly.

            Razael's wings spread out, and something like a roar came from his chest. Fire rolled in his eyes, and he grabbed Azazel by the jaw threateningly. If it were anyone else, he probably would have picked them up and tossed them, but mostly Azazel had a reason for what he did. "What the fuck was that for?" he asked, baring his teeth as he did so.

            Azazel had forgotten how powerful this young angel could be. This demon was afraid of women, intimidated by simple things, seeming so quiet and shy sometimes... He swollowed hard, not able to move his jaw, and not really wanting to try and escape. "She said, "Here, give this to your friend, Raz," before she slapped me."

            Understanding, Raz let go. "Next time, say that first. I might have a better sword at hand than that block of metal."

            Azazel wondered why he was being so testy, and apologised. "Sorry, uh, I just... anyways... I asked her why, and she told me to tell you-"

            "I already know," he said, remembering that he hadn't paid her. He had expected that, but then forgotten about it later. It wasn't really that big of a deal.

            "You do? How?"

            He waved a hand dismissively. "She said to leave the money on the dresser, and I didn't leave anything."

            Azazel's shoulders sloped a little as the surprise went away. "Oh, no, not that."

            "What then?"

            "Remember when you asked me about condoms?"

            Raz hoped this wasn't going where he thought it was going. "Yes..."

            The demon wondered what he was supposed to say, exactly. They weren't supposed to care. He certainly wouldn't have cared. But Raz was a different sort of demon. He was the sort who always did things for a reason, he used logic in a world of chaos, he seemed to understand things that none of them could comprehend, even if they were allowed to know. He was so calm, so quiet, but he went off like a switch, when he needed to. He was forever in control here, in the place that often seemed to rule itself.

            But then, you sort of expected that, from Satan's son.

            Finally, with a distressed sigh, he let it out. "The lady's pregnant because of you."

            Raz looked straight into his face, then. Straight into his eyes, and soul, and being. He wasn't lying. But was she? "Is she sure... sure its mine and whatnot?" If someone could buy her, after all, that probably meant that many others had. Hopefully just silly humans, and not anyone who actually mattered.

            "Yeah, she... she went to the doctor to make sure, and she said that you were the only one in that time period..." he searched for the right words to say. "I... I didn't tell your father, and I won't. Its not my business." He looked off into the distance, as if glancing at some invisible clock. "Anyhow, I've got to be off," he gave out a wide grin, as though he'd already forgotten that anything had happened at all, and life was all fun and games again, just like that, "you know, things to do, places to be, all that."

            And with that, he was gone. Raz supposed that this was one of those moments where he was supposed to have one of a designated list of reactions. He could stand there, wide-eyed and wide-mouthed, and not have the ability to speak. He could scream. He could glow with pride. But Razael didn't do any of these. Instead, he reverted inside of himself. On the outside, he turned back, calmly, to his work. He continued hammering on the metal, shaping it, heating it, making sure it was all done perfectly. On the inside, he attempted to sort everything out so that maybe he could have a proper reaction.

            Hours passed, and he still couldn't come up with a single emotion, even a set of emotions that might explain how he felt. So he switched the subject in his mind from "How do I feel about this?" to, instead, "What am I going to do?"

            More hours passed, and he decided that Azazel was probably right in one idea. His father couldn't know about this, at least not yet. Surely he would think that the child, being a lower creature, would be a good servent, or even kill it. The possibility was there that the child would be allowed to live on Earth, but Raz thought that was highly unlikely. It would have powers and other odd things that it wouldn't know how to control, unless it came in contact with the demons.

            He tried to visualize a little baby, in his mind. A little baby, with wings, and eyes that glowed with just the tiniest hint of red. Dark hair, and sweet pink skin. He gave out a sigh, wondering what he was supposed to do. Did he want to take care  of the little thing? Someone would have to, or everyone would know right from the beginning that it was different, special. They might remove the wings, because humans were crazy like that. But if he was there, he could hide the differences until it was old enough to do it itself...

            Raz put his hammer down, and began to clean things up. This was crazy, the way he was thinking. Did he want to raise a half-human? Before he was done, he thought to himself that he would never really know until he saw the little thing himself. To play the part, he'd have to befriend the mother, though. He'd have to be there for her, and act the part of the accidental responsible man, and father. Then he'd see the baby, and, he hoped, he would know then. Luckily for him, this was his home, not there. So he could just leave if things didn't work out. No commitment.

            By the time he was done cleaning things up, he felt better. And he went to talk to his father.

            "Samael?" he asked, sitting down to dinner. He'd never heard anyone else call each other "mom" or "dad" down here, or even up there for that matter. It just didn't seem right.

            "Yes, Razael?" his father said, glowing red eyes not looking up from his plate.

            "Do you mind if I take a year or so off from the swords? Azazel turned me on to quite an interesting area on Earth."

            "Ah, corrupting souls to join our side... everyone gets on one of those kicks. I thought you never would, I don't think you've ever spent an entire day there, have you?"

            "Uh, no," he responded, surprised that indeed he hadn't, "but it hasn't really gotten to be fun there, until now."    

            Samael nodded. "Yes, indeed, it gets better all the time, and by better I mean worse. No, no I don't mind if you go up there for a year, take ten if you need to, you're ahead of schedule on the swords."

            "Okay, thanks," he replied, feeling that he had indeed accomplished the incredible task of making this whole ordeal sound like it wasn't a big deal to him. If he'd pleaded hopelessly, his father surely would have known that something was up. In fact, he must have been incredibly distracted for the moment, since he didn't even seem to be the slightest bit suspicious. It was hard to deceive the great deceiver. Meanwhile, Samael changed the subject.

            "So today there was a soul who escaped the abyss, and was wandering about, complaining about the torture and whatnot."

            "Oh yeah? Did someone catch 'em?"

            "They didn't have to." When Samael laughed, his whole body laughed, it was rolling thunder. "That poor soul took a look around the rest of this place, and decided he'd had it good before."

 

            Some months later, Raz had prepared to leave for Earth. Azazel was no help, as he was nowhere to be found. Not that he had really expected him to be nearby, but he had questions, and no one to ask them to. How long did humans stay with the babies before it came out? He hoped it would be more than a month or so. This was the first of many questions to come to mind, but of course, he decided he'd just wait until he got there to start asking such things. Hell was a place full of suspicion, and not even the dumbest imp wouldn't be able to connect the dots if he brought up such subjects. It was something he wasn't sure he could lie his way out of.

            Luckily, he had found a few of the other fallen angels who went to Earth often, and had asked them what he might need and wear, and who he might be able to keep in contact with. Nisroc had volunteered to help him out, after figuring out where he was going. This in itself was quite a task, as he couldn't even remember the name of the bar, let alone the city or street or adress where he might go. Eventually he managed to give Nisroc a visual of the bar and its staff, and since it was one of Azazel's favourite places, Ashadeus (his drinking buddy, or rather everyone's drinking buddy) was able to figure out that he meant the "Red Wood Bar", which was located in a place called Cincinatti, Ohio. He explained that it was now summer, and gave him the names of places to go and buy clothes, and what exactly to get. He told him that usually humans had cars, they had apparently given up horses, for the most part, a long time ago.

            Nisroc seemed to enjoy the earth itself rather than the culture. His first job there had been to occasionally guard the Tree of Knowledge. Of course, he wasn't on duty when all that trouble happened – there had been trouble elsewhere as well, and no one had been on duty when that happened. But he'd never given up his enjoyment for trees. Cincinatti had a few, but not enough for him. He liked to travel around, from South America, to Canada, and on and on. America was something he could do only in small doses. If he passed that way, he told Razael, he would attempt to look him up. What would he be using as a name?

            "Uh, I hadn't thought about it," he replied, thinking that this would probably be a pretty important thing to do. He'd have to be someone, from somewhere, with a past and a job and a family. He couldn't just come from nowhere and expect to be accepted. "Raz... is that a normal name?"

            Nisroc shriveled his nose up a little. "Uh, not really, but I've heard worse, so it will pass. It would probably be just a nickname though. For something embarassing, like Rasputin." He laughed, as if this were very amusing. Razael thought that it must be another inside joke for Earth inhabitants only. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be able to get those jokes, now that he thought about it.

            "Rasputin, uh, Smith. That's a common last name, right?" he asked.

            The other demon shrugged. "Its a bit too common. How about Brown, or Fox, or, uh..."

            Both of them paused for a moment, and then Raz suggested another one. "Grey?"

            "Yeah," Nisroc nodded. "That seems fine. Colours always work, you know?"

002 - 2,369 words

Razael had never been to such a place. True, there was hardly any real "order" in Hell, but there was something resembling rules, and for every one person who is comfortable, there is someone to make him uncomfortable. For every sinner, there is another coming for them. Here, in the dark house, there were people relaxing on couches, looking more satisfied than anyone he'd ever seen. On every table there were colourful glass things resembling flower vases with smoke coming out of them. He wasn't sure what was with the smoke, and at first didn't notice it at all. Smoke simply made him feel at home, except there wasn't really a significant amount of flame with it, and that was what made him notice. Besides that, the smoke had a funny scent.

            Someone said hello to Andrew, and Razael wondered if they would stop and sit and sink into the couch like these near-lifeless people. Instead, Azazel nodded toward the voice, and kept going. He seemed to be on a mission, suddenly without time for any other sort of enjoyment.

            They headed up a set of stairs, turned, and headed up another. They went down a dimly-lit hallway, and stopped, finally, at a wooden door. Azazel smiled, raised his eyebrows at Razael. Here we are, said his voice in Razael's head. He gave a little smile, wondering where 'here' was, and feeling his palms getting a little sweaty despite himself.

            In all his life, he had never been  afraid of anything. He'd been to Heaven and Hell, and even Earth, occasionally. He'd seen all the horrors that could be seen, and was actually in charge of a significant amount of them. But in all his life, he had never really, truly been confronted by females. Of  his own kind, there were only two that he'd ever heard of, and they were both in Heaven. One was his mother, with the likeness of Eve, and the other was, on occasion, Gabrielle.

            He didn't know either of them very well, although he'd heard stories. Humans, however, were different. For every man, they seemed to have a woman. They had rules and morals about copulation and reproduction, and there was this whole business with marriage. He remembered Heaven, where there weren't any rules of the sort. There weren't enough women to make any real trouble there, supposedly.

            After a moment without answering, the demon knocked again, and a groggy female voice called out, "Whaat?"

            He smiled, and entered. The women inside were momentarily disturbed from their game of cards, and then they realized who it was and smiled. It was the sort of smile that women give for money.

            "Andrew, you haven't been in so long, we thought you were cheating on us!" a young lady exclaimed, laughing, as she came up and put her arms around him.

            What sort of a game are we playing? Raz said in Azazel's head. When he looked questioningly back, Razael added, Well, she said you were cheating... but by then he knew that it was obviously some slang term, or some joke he didn't get. Next time he would make sure to receive an updated vocabulary list before venturing to this place.

            Azazel laughed, presently. "What are you laughing about, my sweet man?" asked the lady. The other women started to come up, and one asked, "Who is your friend?"

            "This is Raz," he said.

            She sidled up to him, taking his hand and getting far closer than he would normally allow anyone to get to him. She thought to herself that he seemed like one of those easily intimidated and impressed men, who hadn't had sex in a long time. If he was anything like Andrew, he'd pay good too. "Can I steal him?" she asked Andrew, without looking at him. Instead, her eyes were on her new prey.

            "Please do," he barely managed to get out before two women pulled him away.

            With his partner out of sight, Razael suddenly felt incredibly naked. He tried to think of somewhere he had to be, something he had to do. But the woman smiled, and pushed him back, farther and farther, into a dimly-lit room. She whispered for him not to worry, that she wouldn't bite, unless he wanted her to. He was pretty sure that humans weren't meant to have this sort of control over one's mind, but Raz soon found that he couldn't leave, and what was even worse, he didn't care. Was it possible that he wanted to be here? With a human, and a woman no less?

 

            Monty had gotten off work (finally), gone to the grocery store, and come home. He cooked some spaghetti, deciding that this time he would go all out and even brown some hamburger for the sauce. Last time his mother had come down she'd bought them parmagan cheese, and now he sprinkled some on his bowl of pasta, and sat down on the couch. His roommate was in the large chair, concentrating on an xbox video game. During cut scenes, he was playing another game on his handheld gameboy, and he was also doing something or another on the laptop at his side.

            "Want some spaghetti?" Monty asked, wincing as his friend got shot in the game.

            "What... oh, ouch... yeah I will in a minute."

            Monty continued to watch as he played the game. As a result of his excessive multitasking, Plant was losing both games, and had failed to get much of anything from the laptop. In fact, by now he had forgotten what he was looking up, and the friend he was talking to over instant messenger had logged off. Monty knew better than to try and talk to him in such a state, although he rarely was doing less than four things at a time. Anyhow, after a long day of class and work, he wasn't in the mood for talking.

            Class, he suddenly remembered. He leaned over and pulled a book out of his backpack. Studying was usually a pain, but this quarter he had some classes which he actually enjoyed. There was a math, a psychology, and one in his major, German. Currently he had a test tomorrow in German, and considering it was his major, and he was interested in it, and had even studied quite a bit – he was still not doing as well as he would have liked. Every test was just as stressful as the next, and God forbid there be an oral presentation. He'd had enough of those.

            The only thing he didn't like about his major, though, was that he had to stick with it. He'd already changed his major once, and that was bad enough. Now, if he changed it again he felt like he was preventing himself from ever really having a set major, or making a real, firm descision ever again. He'd be going to school forever, and would never even get the chance to get out with a degree and get a job. So he'd have to keep working at the coffee shop with the vegetarians, and playing video games with Plant, and never having a girlfriend.

            Instead of continuing to think about "where my life is going", which, really, isn't good for anyone, he began to go over the vocabulary.

            He didn't stop until his eyes started to quiver every once in a while. The words began to look like they were floating away, and Monty realized that he was tired. He looked up at the little Asian in front of the television. Did Plant ever get tired? He wasn't completely sure that Plant slept. Maybe this was sleeping, for him. After all, he was now down to only one game, so far as he could see. He ventured to attempt a conversation, since he was too tired himself to do much else. His mind wasn't making much sense, so he just asked the first random question to come to mind, other than how his day was.

            "Hey Plant, is that your real name?" He'd never thought about it before. He was used to having friends with odd names and nicknames, and although it wasn't what he would have picked, he never really noticed.

            "Yes."

            For a moment, Monty thought that was all he was going to get. But after a pause that just slightly too long, Plant continued. "Yes, my mother, she didn't know English when she came here. Her neighbor named their little daughter Lily," he paused again, doing something on the game that took more concentration than he could spare, and failed anyways. "Yes, she named her daughter Lily, and Mother, she didn't know what flower to name me after. She couldn't pick, so they just named me after all of them."

 

            Razael woke up without a headache, without any extra grogginess, and in fact without any physical repercussions from the night before. He looked over, at the woman next to him, and suddenly the whole night hit him at once. What had he been thinking? His heart leapt into his throat for a moment, but soon logic filled him, and he relaxed. First of all, he'd actually had fun. He wasn't as good at being the life of the party as his friend, but he'd enjoyed the company, and the intoxication. He'd also enjoyed the sex, more than he knew he ever could, and so had she. His life wasn't exactly bent towards pleasing others, but for some reason he'd been fine with it last night.

            It was fine, but she wasn't quite as pretty without makeup on, and he didn't really want anything else from her. He pulled his pants on, sitting on the side of the bed, and looked around for his shirt. He rubbed his eyes, and went to rummage for it in the corner where most of her clothes had also been tossed. The figure in the bed stirred.

            "Are you leaving?" she asked groggily, seeming not to care as much as he might have thought. He'd heard that human women were clingy, but she hadn't even bothered to sit up and look at him, so far.

            "Yes," he replied. She rolled over and groaned.

            "You didn't use a condom, that's extra."

            "What?" he asked, wondering what new slang term this was.

            "You can leave the money by my clothes, no one will touch it."

            There was no more conversation, and she went to sleep. A little confused, Razael wondered how much he was supposed to leave her. He had no concept of money, but it would probably be insulting if he left her to little. Then if he left her too much, she'd remember his face if she ever saw him again, and he didn't want that either.

            Fuck it, he probably wouldn't be back here in her lifetime anyways. Razael decided that he didn't have to pay. She didn't seem to unhappy about the experience last night, that was like asking to be paid for just laying there enjoying things. At least he'd done some work.

            He exited, and found himself back in the large room, where Azazel sat with a cup of coffee. There were no women present. Probably, they were back at their jobs in libraries and grocery stores, or sleeping, which left the two demons with the run of the house. They had a good cup of coffee, and Razael admitted to truly enjoying himself the night before. Azazel acted like a proud teacher, one of the sort who has a demonic grin, and uses it far too often.

            They both found themselves laughing most of the time, but then Raz's mind couldn't help but drift back to his job back home. He didn't enjoy the hot flame and work like he had enjoyed last night, but it made him fill fulfilled, somehow, to be there, doing the things he did. Unusually enough, he was one of the few beings in existance who was really quite alright with his job, authority, home, and life in general. Besides, his father would be wanting him to report back and give him a quote on how the swords were coming soon.

            He sipped his own coffee, and thought of a question. "Hey Azazel? What is a condom?"

            "Aren't your parents supposed to have this talk with you?" the demon responded. Obviously, Raz didn't get it, so he proceeded to explain. "Its a thing you put on your... self... to prevent getting ladies pregnant."

            He thought about this for a moment. "Is that possible, for us to create a halfbreed?"

            Azazel shrugged. "I don't know. I never wanted to take the risk. If we did, I expect they'd be less powerful than us, and more than humans, and your dad would just want them to be imps or slaves or whatever for us."

            Raz shrugged, thinking that it was unlikely that such things were even possible, and instead changed the subject. "Well, thank you... truly, thank you... but I ought to be getting home, you know?"

            Azazel nodded, and gave him a, "you are welcome," and a little bow of his head. He announced that he'd be staying a little longer, but that he'd make sure to drag Raz along for adventures a little more often.

001 - 3,504 words

Untitled

Ashley Lindberg

 

            “Come on, its a blast. You don't know if you haven't tried, anyhow,” said a particular demon with an evil smile.

            “I don't know,” replied Razael, with a shrug. Raz wasn't sure what Earth was like nowadays, but he'd heard that it had changed a lot, and that Hell was winning over the vast majority of its human residents. As interesting as this could prove to be, he had duties here, and besides, humans got boring easily. They lived short, silly lives, asked too many questions, and had the memory of a fish. He usually got frustrated after trying to interact with them for too long.

            “You think the world is still like it was back in the 1400's, don't you. They still remember when we invaded as dragons, you know. They play it off like they imagined it all, and we are these 'mythological creatures'. They write books about dragons.” Azazel was amused at this, but Raz just rolled his eyes and continued hammering on the metal before him.

            “They write books about everything. No wonder writing was forbidden knowledge to them, they don't know how to do it correctly. You can't just make shit up and write it down.” In fact, Razael had collected all the facts needed to write an entire history of his home. Of course, he hadn't left much since they'd discovered Hell, so it wasn't really that hard. Still, to him, writing was for recording facts, and he'd never really grasped the fact that it could be used for entertainment.

            “Yeah, they confuse themselves with what is fact and what isn't, but you do have to give a few of them credit... but this isn't going to include writing. Its just a party.” He looked down at the sword Razael was meticulously fashioning. “You spend too much time working. Remember fun?”

            Fun. He smiled a little and looked up, remembering their last escapade on Earth. It included a lot of drinking and generally confusing a religious conversation into creating a war. It wasn't really that challenging, but it was amusing. “All right,” he said, realizing that he would probably give in eventually anyways. It was true, after all, he had been working on this sword for years, which left no time for fun. His father wouldn't mind if he took a break for once, anyways. “Where were you planning on going? Europe? China?”

            “America.”

            “Well, you don't have to be so specific. Which country is that in?”

            The demon laughed, a toothy smile taking over his features. “The continent is North America, and the country is the United States of America. Its full of sin and, well, you'd love it. I promise.”

            Humans were always finding new places. Whose idea was it to let them name these places themselves anyways? He almost asked why no one had told them that they'd renamed things, but then, he didn't care that much. “All right, I'll go. Tonight?”

            “Tonight.”

            “Now will you leave me alone until then?”

 

            In a place commonly known as Cincinatti, Ohio, in the USA, North America, Earth, the Milky Way, the universe, the kingdom of God, there lived some humans. Actually, there were a lot of them, and they all seemed to come out of the woodwork, away from their jobs and lives, to go to the Javaland coffee shop and bother Monty.

            Currently, first in a long line of customers, was a woman who appeared to be about 70. In reality, she was probably more like 50, but had simply spent too much of her youth promoting peace and harmony by smoking illegal substances to look anything close to her age. He knew that she would eventually settle on a simple coffee, but unfortunately she did not. She now stood in front of him, her withering arm leaning on the counter as she studied the menu behind him. “Well, now, what is the mocha frappuccino like?”

            “Its like a mocha cappuccino, except we blend it with ice. They are really very good. I can put whipped cream on it and drizzle some -”

            “Well, that doesn't sound good at all. The whole point of coffee is to be hot, isn't it now?”

            “I guess so, but you know, some people like them. Anyhow, the mocha cappuccino is really good too. They are very rich, the way we make them.” He wasn't sure why he was trying to sell her anything but a regular cup of Joe. Obviously, he'd worked here too long.

            “Well, I don't know, it all seems so fancy. I think I'll just have the regular cup of coffee.”

            He shrugged and gave her the smile he had been trained to give. “Okay, ma'am, anything else?”

            “Don't call me ma'am... I'm not that old. Anyhow, I'll have some vegetarian chili as well, and that will be it.”

            He winced and rang her up. Apparently, it was a requirement of coffee shops everywhere to have employees and customers at least 85% vegetarian. No one had told him this when he'd applied, and even if they had, he probably wouldn't have realized back then how obnoxious vegetarians could be.

 

            Razael stepped out into a dark alleyway, remembering to concentrate on keeping his wings invisible, and trying to look as human as possible. He turned to the demon next to him. “You told him I was coming with you tonight, right?”

            “You can't just be dressed like that,” Azazel said, as a few of their companions appeared nearby as well.

            “You told him, right?”

            “Yes, yes, relax,” Azazel put a hand on his shoulder. “I told him, and he said I couldn't keep you here for more than a few years or so.”

            “I'm here for tonight only,” Raz stated firmly, hoping he wasn't lying. His father would not be one bit happy if he didn't know where he went and something happened to him. They'd both end up severely whipped. Then, lying wasn't Azazel's thing. His thing was what he simply referred to as 'partying', whatever that included lately. He noted Azazel exchange glances with some of the other demons. Their job was to tempt humans, to live among them for the majority of the time, and they all knew a significant amount more about Earth than he did. He gave a shrug as they all looked at him, and said, “Yes, I know. Dress me how you will.”

            The tallest of them waved his hand over him, and suddenly he was wearing a neat collared shirt and a decent pair of slacks. He gave him some dark brown shoes. “Would you like sunglasses?”

            “What are sunglasses?”

            “Nevermind.”

            The other fallen angels dispersed, and Azazel and Raz were alone. Raz raised an eyebrow. “What are we supposed to do now? Has drinking gone out of style?”

            “Drinking will never go out of style.” The fair-haired creature motioned for him to follow, and started off toward one of the many bars which he was known at. The staff hated to see him, since every time he entered, someone started a fight. But of course, they couldn't throw him out, because he never was really involved, that they could tell. They didn't want to face a lawsuit for having the bouncers chuck someone out before they were thoroughly drunk or otherwise out of control. He looked wealthy, and wealthy people could afford lawyers to sue you with. So, they smiled and welcomed him back.

            “Ah, Andrew, who is your friend?” asked the bartender, making sure to lean over and spill her bosom out as much as possible. Men like him tipped better when you did that.

            “Sweet Debbie, this is... well, we just call him Raz.”

 

            “He's just such a bitch,” said Georgie, who was already hammered to the point that he really couldn't see straight anymore. He had been dancing, and actually having a good time,  but his stomach told him that it was time for a break from the activity. The bartender had told him he needed some water anyways, and when they started telling you that, it meant that you were talking too loud.

            Frank put an arm around him. “Yeah, well, I told you. I told you, that little whore... he's a whore.”

            “Do you think I like being cheated on? Like those people that like to hurt themselves?”

            “What, no, no you can't be one of those.” replied the supportive friend, who was also supportively paying for all the drinks. “Man, if he was here... I'd, I'd punch him. In the neck.”

            They giggled together for a moment, both imagining their now shared ex-boyfriend wreathing in pain. It was a funny image.

            Georgie regained his composure after a moment, suddenly becoming incredibly tired and laying his head on his arm, resting on the bar. “I need another drink or a nap. I'm not sure which.” A skinny boy next to him glared over and then whispered to a friend at his side. They had a laugh about something.

            Frank held out his hand to help him down. “C'mon, let's walk home. Fuck these queens.”

            At that, they stumbled out together, each with an arm around the other, thinking that if they were either singing or vomiting that they would be the cliché drunks seen on all city streets outside of bars in the middle of the night. But Frank didn't like singing, and Georgie was to depressed. They walked in silence for a little while, enjoying the cool air of the night.

            After a few long moments of this, Georgie's thoughts began to wander back into that hopeless direction. He started to laugh, mostly to avoid crying, but also because he was drunk, and the world spinning around him was making everything seem so silly. Relationships... you would think they would be more amusing, like on sitcoms. But really, things felt right now like they'd never be better. How could they be, after you were cheated on?

            “What's so funny?”

            “You know. Me and you, in the same situation. You'd think I would be smarter than you. I mean, after you. After he cheated on you.”

            “Yeah, well, people don't change.”

            “Nope. I mean, yeah they do. I am going to. I'm going to not date stupid assholes anymore. I'm going to date really nice guys after I fall in love. And I'm not going to fall in love easy, damnit.”

            Frank laughed. “How about you just not fuck them so much. Then you wouldn't fall in love every other day.”

            He wanted to be mad at the comment, but Georgie laughed instead. He was too tired to be mad anymore. Besides, he wasn't sure he could walk without the supportive arm around him. Now that he thought about it, he was keeping him warm too. Warm and comfortable... with a nice arm. He' d never really thought about it before, but Frank probably worked out. “Yeah, no fucking or anything. I'm done with guys, until I find a good one.”

            “Good.” He caught Georgie as he nearly tripped over a fire hydrant. “You gonna fall the whole fucking way?”

            “So what if I am?”

            “If I have to carry you the whole way home, we're going to have to take a break,” Frank stated, steering Georgie gently toward a patch of grass that sloped toward the sidewalk. There were no benches in sight, and this would have to do. He made sure to plop his thin little figure down fairly gently, and then sat down himself. He groaned and rubbed his arm.

            “Let me,” said Georgie, grabbing the arm and messaging it in what he thought at the time was a gentle and soothing manner. In fact, it was rough and clumsy, but it was the thought that mattered. His logic was that he obviously owed his new best friend something for all those drinks. They hadn't known each other all that well before, and it was rare to have someone come through for you like that.

 

            For some reason, when Azazel got drunk, he liked to be just as idiotic as humans when they are drunk. This was intolerable altogether in normal circumstances, but having had quite a variety of these good substances himself, Razael presently didn't care. He listened to him go on and on, and couldn't help but laugh, because that smile was just so big, and he was the sort of person who forced you to smile when he did. It gave most humans a bad feeling in their gut, like they were being conned into doing something, but drunk humans didn't notice. There was currently a crowd of them around him, listening in and histerically laughing. They all understood the basic concept of the story, but Razael was lost. Halfway through the story he'd realized that "pussy" referred now not only to cats, but also to female reproductive parts. By then, he had missed too much of the story to bother trying to catch up, so he just laughed when everyone else laughed instead.

            By the time he got bored of listening to Azazel's excessive swearing, the story was over, although it wasn't so much finished. One of the guys, who apparently was a regular here enough to know who Azazel (or Andrew) was, had mentioned his own wife when 'Andrew' said something about a whore. The men who knew him laughed, and then someone called his wife fat. Apparently this joke was going too far, and voices got louder and louder. As soon as the voices got loud enough to be written in all capital letters ("YOU FUCK. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT-"), Azazel leaned over to Raz and whispered, "This is when we slip away."

            By the time they got to the door, they were yelling in all caps, bold, and underlined. As the door slammed shut, someone threw a fist. "How did you do that?" Raz asked the blonde creature.

            "Do what?" Said Azazel, although, of course, he knew exactly what he meant.

            "You know... make them fight like that. You can't control them, and you didn't say anything mean to any of them. I didn't even see you whisper or anything..."

            "I didn't do anything. You just have to get enough of them to talk to each other, and they do it themselves." Azazel was quite smug with himself. It was nice having someone around to impress, and Raz was easy. Not only had he not been up here in a while, but his dad was, well, not exactly someone you wanted to be on the bad side of.  It was extra kudos to impress him, and you could hardly do that when you were in his element. He already knew everything about Hell and most of its arts. It was Earth-stuff that he was lacking.

            "Where are we going now?" Raz asked, as he stumbled along. It was wierd, how his eyes shook. He felt like the world was slanting this way and that, and was vaguely aware that he was being influenced by forces other than those he was used to. What he really wanted to do was sit down, or maybe take a nap, but instead he tried to look perfectly composed and in control. He suceeded better than most humans, but still not very well.

            "I thought I'd take you somewhere special... somewhere with women." He said the word 'women' like he was talking about a delicacy. The sort of delicacy which is meant to be consumed only slowly, in small portions, so that every drop can be savoured. But then, they were in the land of gluttony, so delicacies were widely available in whatever portion can be paid for.

            "Are we going to get some pussy?" Raz asked inquisitively, trying to sound just as cool as Azazel telling his stories. Even he realized as the words came out of his mouth that he was failing horribly, and should probably stick with words he'd learned more than a few hours ago. As it were, Azazel laughed at him. But then he answered the question.

 

            Alara finished cleaning out the remaining glasses, and said good-bye to her co-workers. She stepped outside and stopped, sighing, letting the whole day wash away from her, and closed her eyes. She smiled as the cool air touched her skin, and opened her eyes again, releived. She hadn't seen Andrew leave, and didn't remember closing out his tab. And yet, when she'd checked, just to make sure, his receipt was there. He'd paid. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time she'd forgotten something. It was just that she thought she'd remember that. He was someone she noticed, after all. Not in a good way, either. He was the sort of sweet guy that she had learned to be suspicious of.

            Now, his friend... she couldn't remember his name, but she had found herself accepting of him, after a while. He was quiet, but not that creepy brooding sort of quiet. He was obviously just out of his element. Probably, she only noted him because he was good-looking. Shrugging at herself, she listened to her boots clack on the pavement and wondered why she had to be so superficial.

            "Be careful little girly, walking all alone in the dark," said a homeless black man nearby. He smiled, and she wasn't sure if he was genuinely concerned, or threatening her somehow. Either way, she replied only with her coy smile, something that said she didn't really have to be careful. Maybe she didn't even want to be.

            She was sitting in the seat of her car soon enough, and just for fun she turned the key in the ignition. Click. It didn't start, just as she had expected. It only took her a few moments to jump it and get going, and then she was on her way home. Ah, sweet bed. Sleep was all she had to look forward to there. That and her instruments. Her apartment was a virtual music studio, although it was for practicing far more than recording. If only she could get more gigs, she could quit that silly bartending job. Ah well, she could bide her time. In the meantime, she was going to have to go from the bar to her bed and back again every day. Maybe she would get a cat, so she at least could have some decent company in between.

            She'd made friends at the bar, but they always left. They always found another job, and made more money with their college degrees. They would say that they'd call you, and they would, once, and you'd go out once with them, and then never see them again. College had always seemed like a waste of time to Alara. Not for other people. They were smart and liked studying and learning and generally being 'smart' people. They spent all their time with their heads in books, and never went out and really learned at all. Alara was more of the sort to learn by experience.

            So far, she was convinced that she'd learned a significant amount more than college kids her age. Between the old men, young kids, roughty former-convicts, bouncers, and other attendants of the bar, there were enough stories to write plenty of books with. Before working there, she'd spent most of her time moving from one place to another, thinking that surely things would be different here, until she finally realized that things were exactly the same no matter where you went.