A Series Of Short Stories (Complete ✓)

Angel of the Devil

Devil's may be the true saviors of the world. -

Castiel -

The world was truly beautiful is you knew where to look. I had found myself in Pennsylvania. I couldn't find anyone that would be able to help me.

It was difficult to find any people, who would be willing to close the gates to hell. Even harder, people who actually believed me. I let out a soft sigh as I walked through a park.

It was still light out, but not by much. The sun would be setting soon, the orange horizon bringing a smile to my face. The leaves were begining to turn light oranges and yellows as well. It smelled of pumpkin spice as people drank their lattes.

I wanted to go back to New York, the city was too busy, with plenty of people to ask. I heard some rumors, and went to The Seven Gates of Hell. It was a local legend, but I had been to countless countries, many legends, and continuous dead ends.

I was not amused, but this was the last try I had before I would have to create a portal by hand. That, had not been done for centuries, and was considered a death sentence for anyone daring enough to try.

I knew the gates wouldn't work. The story was too fake. My eyes glanced around. The area was slightly busy, but anyone could tell that it wasn't a city.

Sighing, I took a turn to the local bar. Pointless to drink if you couldn't get drunk, but plenty of stories about anyone and anything. It was only just eight, so the folks weren't too drunk yet.

I took a lone seat by the window. The sun’s brilliant red rays reflected off the landscape. Some barren trees and their fallen leaves and bright pink flowers only complimented the sunset.

“Did you hear about the visitor? They say he came from the gates, dressed in all black with guns holstered at his sides.” A woman chattered at a crowded table of what looked to be her friends. I sighed, I knew where the story was heading.

“There's no way Mary, I can't believe Thomas got you to believe his stories.” One of the men glared at him while Mary continued to drink her cocktail.

“He is! I was with him and he appeared out of-” her voice dropped to a whisper so I couldn't hear her. A man walked in, tight black tee, leather jacket, shredded pants, and clanging boots. He took a seat at the bar, and I could tell he was the person I had been looking for.

The woman, Mary, had grown silent. Her table soon followed and so did the rest of the bar. People cleared away from the man, and I stood up walking over to him. I took a seat on his right. My wings were in a holster on my back, and I wore a jacket to cover them.

He looked over at me, his dark blue eyes glittering in the poor lighting. I rolled my eyes, he looked like the typical badboy. The man had black messy hair, deep tan, and multiple scars on his hands. Once I saw them I bit my lip, itching to heal them.

“So, why'd you sit next to me?” He asked, his voice deep and foreign. I tilted my head back and looked up at the neon signs.

I took my time answering, it was clear he wasn't in a rush, and neither was I at the moment. “You know the local legend and how you’re involved? Tell me.” He laughed, his chortle startling me. My eyes widened as I saw the bartender stick out his tongue that was split, and crossed his now slit eyes.

“You wouldn't believe me even if I tried to tell you.” He murmured, his voice growing a bit quieter. The bar slowly started to ignore his presence, but the tension hung in the air like a heavy weight.

“How’d you know I wouldn't believe you? You don't know anything about me.” I said with a sly grin, looking over at him. He smirked in response and tipped his head back as he took a shot.

“You don't know anything about me either, sweetheart.” He paused, and I couldn't tell if he was going to continue, until he did. “I'm a demon from hell, the gates are fake, but the area is easy to travel between. Many demons have snuck their way in here like the bartender, and the gates are weakening.” He said and I grumbled. What I had been told was true, and the realization that demons knew too only made me more angry.

“What's causing the gates to weaken?” I asked, standing up. The man had given me a gesture to follow him outside the bar. I followed him out, and to a shaded spot. He then shifted, his tail and horns sprouted, and I noticed he didn't have wings. He must've been a weaker demon.

“I'm here to figure that out, but knowing you're an angel and that you don't know-- the only option is to go to the depths of hell to find out.” He said, and his tail whipped out, cutting my wrist. I growled and glared at it.

The man smiled before he ran a hand through his hair. “The names Seth by the way.” He murmured softly. I looked at him, surprised he told me his name.

Some demons and such found that by telling your name to someone, you were submitting to them. I didn't say anything, though.

“Castiel, just call me Cas.” I murmured, looking up at the now darkened sky. My gaze landed on the trees in the distance and I noticed they were a bit hazy. Biting my lip, I nudged Seth. He turned around and faced the area, and cursed right afterwards.

“Fuck! I knew the portal was getting wider, but it shouldn't be growing this quickly.” He tugged on his hair and his tail flicked again, almost slicing my wrist.

“Two things. Why is your tail intent on slicing open me? Also, why don't we head there. There's no reason not to check it out.” Seth turned and looked at me, then his tail.

“Some demons drink blood to live, some need is as a quick snack. It's probably just telling me I'm hungry.” He turned to go back into the bar. I tugged on his sleeve and he stopped in his tracks.

“Don't you go dare hurt those humans! Why don't you go feed on some old deer that’s had a good life?” Seth rolled his eyes.

“You learned nothing up there in the clouds did you? Demons can only drink the blood of humans or supernatural, full-blooded animals don't have the right kinds of blood. So what’d you suppose we do?” He looked away, and the tail nearly got me again, but I took a daring step forward.

“Drink my blood.”