AS SHADOWS SCREAM (BOOK ONE)

Chapter 6: 'Cassiel Sad'

*Dedicated to DanielEkeneUgbaja an incredibly talented writer with a few epic books you should definitely check out*

Detective Monroe sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. The whiskey was not doing its job. Every cop lived a stressful night and was plagued by nightmares at night haunted by the memories of vile things they had seen. It was just one of the perks of the job. He had seen a lot of bad shit. Some of the worst things humanity had to offer.

Now there was darkness and demons. He chuckled with sarcasm and stood up.

He walked over to the table and poured another glass of whiskey. His own personal demon.

His ex-wife always said whisky was a demon that would kill him but now that there was an actual demon roaming the streets, a whiskey induced death didn't seem that bad.

Chloe, his ex-wife.... A crazy woman that he loved just as much as he hated.

She was responsible for the both the best and worst times of his life.

He cursed and smiled as he thought about her. They had fought and argued so much that half the time he didn't even know what they were fighting about but nine out of ten times their heated arguments turned into heated passionate crazy sex. That woman was an animal in the bed and he still had scars to prove it. Monroe took a deep sip of whiskey and spluttered then looked at the painting hanging on the wall on the left. 'Cassiel Sad.'

It was a hauntingly beautiful oil panting depicting the angel Cassiel with his head in his hands weeping for humanity. Cassiel was said to be a Gregori, a sect of angels that watched over earth and recorded everything. Cassiel was called 'the weeper' as it was his job to watch and record all the sins of man.

He remembered the day when he had first seen it. It had been a long day and he was tired.

He had spent most of the day sitting in his car drinking energy drinks while staking out a murder suspect named Jonty jones who allegedly killed three prostitutes all named Sherisse because his girl of the same name left him. There had been a witness but he "tripped and fell of his block of flats". Now there was nothing tying the scumbug to the murders except circumstantial evidence so Detective Monroe just sat everyday waiting patiently till Jonty decided another Sherisse had to pay. That day though, Jonty had just sat in front of his television moving only to collect his pizza at the door and use the bathroom and as the day had dragged on Monroes energy drinks had turned to whiskey.

He had stumbled into the house slamming the door hard and angrily behind him and sauntered into the kitchen straight to the fridge where he dropped his coat and belongings, opened the fridge and took out a beer. After taking a large gulp of cold beer he made his way to the lounge where he found his wife on her knees with her hands next to her full of paint. She was crying, tears flowing freely down her beautiful cheeks. In front of her was the painting. It was beautiful. The flowing brush strokes, gentle colours and serene light.

Monroe put down his beer and sat down next to her looking at the painting.

He tried to put his arm around her to comfort her but she pushed his arm away and turned her head away from him. He knew she got emotional with her work and he was a little tipsy so he just sat there quietly swaying slowly. After awhile she spoke softly, her pain could be heard in her strained voice, 'You cheated on me. Sarah came to see me two weeks ago and she confessed. She couldn't do it any more. She came to tell me she was sorry and she was getting a transfer.'

Monroe said weakly, 'babe, its not like... i'm sorry.'

Chloe stood up and said forcefully, 'I want you out of this house before four tomorrow. When I come home you must be gone. I'll have the divorce papers sent to your work.