Broken Circle

“The songs of Solomon are deceptive and fake, for how can any man who has slaves know love and compassion? Apparently justified that they are demons. Have you forgotten where my kind has come from? The very same blood as yours. We came from the fallen, we were also once made in the image of God, and you have brought the whip upon a child’s back to break her spirit, and call it righteous for her foul blood. And you dare call yourself a healer. You are no more a comfort than I am a God.”

Those cold words…

Raphael sighed and leaned back against the wood, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily. That same voice was now humming softly behind the door, the sound of splashing water echoing with it. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening the door and stepped inside before shutting it behind him. The bathroom was humid among the smell of green tea and some type of herb; Hessa silencing to regard the archangel.

“Would’ve been nice if you knocked first, I could’ve slipped into something more decent.”

“Like I haven’t seen you naked before,” the blonde responded and sat down beside the bathtub, the demon’s eyes never leaving him once. Red mixed with the deepest purple, like a morbid sunset, something he assumed was of her father’s side with her mother’s eyes blacker than twelve a.m. Her long hair was done up in braids and hair clips, while some rogue strands clung for their life to her neck and temples. Sometimes he felt like smacking her for being this way. For looking so…

Human

Raphael let a hand drift into the water, watching ripples forom rom his lazy strokes. Hessa troubled the water as she turned and sat on her knees, facing him.

“What are you here for?” She wanted to know; the blonde lifting his eyebrows.

“Do I need a reason to see you?”

The look she gave him was response enough. Raphael sighed, blinking as she lifted his chin with her thumb and forefinger to kiss him, the angel returning the kiss before pulling away to speak.

“Hessa?”

She looked up; burgundy eyes questioning the interruption.

“Do you hate me?”

“Yes”

“Do you still want to kill me?”

“No”

“Why?”

Hessa didn’t respond, her eyes focused on something past his shoulder. The blonde was about to move, when she finally spoke; directing her comment to the corner of the bathroom.

“Does it matter why?” She asked and rolled her eyes, “I am still in debt to you. For every day I was paid for, my body belongs to you. Where the hell would I go if I were to kill my master?”

Raphael smirked, leaning his head against her shoulder.

“I love it when you call me master.”

Hessa narrowed her eyes, but didn‘t respond, shutting her eyes with a heavy sigh. When she was little, she always thought that escaping Alzubra would make her free again, and here she was under a collar and leash again- to an angel no less. It was enough of adding insult to injury without considering that said angel was the one who put her in chains in the first place. And their God, who gave him the permission to give the humans this divine secret. All angels deserved to die, but this one, sworswore to hate him for the rest of her life. But now…Alarming each day she found it easier to cope with her prison, despite everything she lost because of Alzubra.

Was it really his fault the humans abused their power?

She opened her eyes, spacing out as the outside world became a blur around her memories.

___________________

It was called Alzubra, what he recalled to also be the name of a star in the constellation Leo. How such an innocent beacon became associated with such a place, nobody alive could probably answer this question; maybe not even anybody who was dead. It was a name obviously given when he had left Solomon, when the taboo of ensnaring demons was passed to build a temple, had been abused into greed and slavery. In Baghdad, Alzubra was called a recreational bazaar for those with expensive taste. What it truly was was a slave pit for those who had the money and the balls to witness what was within the jagged fence of crosses.

The smell of dirt and blood smacked mercilessly into the archangel’s nostrils; his face wrinkling with disgust of this cesspool of death and decay. The streets hadn’t been cleaned in an obvious while, dead bodies strewn around offhandedly; limbs torn off by starving vagrants, lurking in the dark alley ways that had become their churches. Wild eyes peering through the shadows, their pupils slit and glowing; leering at him as he walked by.

Raphael sighed heavily and fanned a hand in front of his face, but it barely did his nose any justice. If he didn’t find a place that looked remotely clean, he was going to screw this mission and find another alternative- one with fresh air.

The blonde stopped and looked up at the archaic staircase, chipped and stained with age and blood. What they led to was a building which had also seen better days, but its filth and cavities were hidden beneath silk sheets and Arabic graffiti, like a narcissist trying to save themselves from time with makeup and surgery. Such insecurities made him reluctant to call the building a place of worship anymore, and as Raphael climbed up the staircase, he didn’t know the extent of time upon Solomon’s work.

And couldn’t have been more in love with ignorance.

The moment he entered the room, the entire building became silent and he became aware of everyone staring at him. The humans had turned Solomon’s temple into a rather gaudy house of prostitution for males that had tastes only female and male demons could cater to. His cool eyes glanced around the room and he became aware of exactly how dark some of the mortal males could be in their fantasies. A part of him felt almost sorry for the demons, but the other part reasoned that on some level they deserved it for turning their backs against God.

The demon females were barely clothed in the skimpy outfits made up of gauzy and transparent silk; jewels adorned their foreheads and sths, hs, while god collars and wrist bands lowered their powers in order to keep the clientele safe. Theon mon males wore nothing but a loin cloth while their chests held elaborate tattoos in greens, yellows, blues, and purples in writings to help their bands keep their powers in check. Gold earrings dangled from their pointed ears as their surfaces gleamed in the dim candlelight. Most human females would be terrified of such a sight but there were a few that would find them arousing. He pitied those women that found desire in something so dangerous; they would end up hurt in the end. He was aware of the hissing from the various demons that were old enough to know who he was, and the younger demons that might not know who he was, but what he was.

A tan man with hair greased back to cover his bald spot and a large cigar sticking out of his mouth and an Armani suit walked over to greet him. “Greetings, brother,” he said good-naturedly, “what’s your pleasure? Male? Female? Teenager? Or child?”

“Aren’t a child and a teenager often one and the same?” Asked Raphael with a lifted eyebrow.

“Yes, but here we use the names to determine someone between the ages of thirteen and nineteen to those of five and twelve. According to how their bodies are, seeing how demons tend to age differently than humans, of course.”

“Of course,” said Raphael with a nod of his head; his cool gaze sweeping over the room.

“See anything that interests you?”

“Not yethe bhe blonde answered. “Do you mind if I look around?”

“Of course not,” laughed the owner, his beer gut jiggling. “Take all the time you need and call me when you are ready.”

“I’ll do that,” said Raphael. “But first some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Questions,” repeated Raphael. “How long has this been open?”

“Since Solomon’s temple was no longer in use.”

That didn’t exactly answer the question.

“The angels gave Solomon the secret to capture demons to build the temple,” Raphael stated.

“Yes,” said the owner nodding in agreement. “And when they finished with the temple, releasing such beings back out into the world would have been a horrible thing to do. The only other thing they were good for was to satisfy the darker lusts of the rich men and women of the world.”

Raphael looked around and heard the hisses of the demons. “You hattertter hope that the bands don’t come off,” he responded coldly. “Or you will be a dead man.”

“Be that as it may,” smirked the man, “The songs of our lord Solomon claim that owning slaves teaches love and compassion…”

“The songs of Solomon are deceptive and fake,” snapped a new voice, a female voice. “For how can any man who has slaves know love and compassion? Apparently justified that they are demons.”

“Silence wench!” Bellowed the owner at the new woman who had long black hair and eyes of red and purple; she was decked out in an outfit similar to the one Lilith had been wearing.

“Have you forgotten where my kind has come from?” She asked her attention on Raphael. “The very same blood as yours. We came from the fallen, we were also once made in the image of God, and you have brought the whip upon a child’s back to break her spirit, and call it righteous for her foul blood. And you dare call yourself a healer. You are no more a comfort than I am a God.”

Raphael stared at the woman coolly- she could be very useful to him in getting information about Lilith.

The owner didn’t take the time or brain power to question this disturbing rant, turning on his heels and hollering in Arabic, while the dark-skinned demon screeched curses at him in the same language; several other succubi chiming in before silencing at the approach of two bulky men- human- leering sadistically at the agitator. The little whore finally seemed unnerved, backing away before charging atm inm in defense, but they were on her before she could do anything; she still kicked up a fight.

“CURSE THE HEIGHT OF CREATION! CURSE THE TREACHEROUS KINGDOM OF HEAVEN! MY FATHER SHALL RISE AND FALL UPON YOUR GOD LIKE A PLAGUE! HE SHALL DRINK THE BLOOD OF CHRIST, AND SPIT ON HIS-”

They never found out what her father would spit on when one of the larger men struck her from the back, sending the riotous female to the ground stunned.

“Get her out of the way,” the owner snappershlrshly and gestured to her; his associates nodding obediently and scooped up the demon’s paralyzed form, trudging off to another corner of the dusky brothel. Raphael watched them before noticing the pimp turning around to leave, and touched his shoulder for attention.

“I’ll take her.”

The man turned around, regarding the blonde with a sudden superiority.

“Her? We never sell her to white men. Only an Arab knhow how to handle such a fiery monster.”

“As I see itwhorwhore goes to who’s paying- black, white or purple,” Raphael answered calmly, “so how much is she?”

“Not cheap,” the pimp warned him, “she was captured by my great-grandfather- a pure-blooded Lilim.”

“Lilim? As in the daughter of-”

“Lilith,” the pimp nodded, “and my colleagues and I reckon her sire is none other than the Morning Star. See how proud she is? And her endurance laughs at her questionable height. Come- see for yourself.”

The portly landlord turned around and walked off, the blonde archangel following him to the corner of the brothel where they had dragged her. Sure enough there were the two men, one of them trying to restrain the aggressive Lilim against a countertop, while the other poured what looked like water onto her skin, but steam rose upon contact. The Lilim screeched in pain, becoming more and more violent, while the others watched in curious satisfaction.

“Holy water,” Raphael guessed.

“Indeed.

The ownere hie himself heard with a sharp bark in Arabic, the two men stopping in what they were doing to look up and flipped the demon oso hso her back was exposed to them- scars of obvious beatings rising from her gingerbread flesh. “We normally put down obstinate whores,” the owner said as he ran a hand adoringly over the damage, “but how can I part with such a treasure? With herengrength, I feel perfectly safe with giving hestomstomers weapons.”

“Although that will not be necessary for today,” Raphael responded and reached into his pockets, fishing around, “how much for a round?”

The owner laughed; his thickly-accented voice mocking the archangel. “I like you; you’ve got real balls for a cracker. Tell you what- I’ll split the price, so if you die, it won’t be with empty pockets.”

The two men snorted with laughter while Raphael simply blinked, pulling a delicate chain from his pocket; a diamond-encrusted cross dangling from it.

“Will this do?”

His question was answered by the greed in the owner’s squished eyes. It was amazing how much of a pig a human could resemble if they put their mind to it. The pimp stepped forward and snatched the cross; holding it in front of his eyes to judge the authenticity; then back up at the archangel.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“My nas mys my own business,” Raphael answered calmly.

“With this kind of shit lying in your pockets, you can call yourself Jesus for all I care,” the pimp exclaimed heartily and pulled the demon off the counter and onto her feet. “And so my friend, I’d like you to meet Hessa. Hessa-” he shoved her roughly towards the archangel. “Meet your client.”

Her fall was broken as Raphael caught her shoulders, but she yanked away quickly, only to be smacked by her reproachful owner. He gave her a quick glare before leaning in and hissed something quickly into her ear and gave her another push, beaming at the blonde archangel.

“Take as long as you like,” he said generously, “Hessa will show you to a room.”

“Thank you,” Raphael said and looked down at Hessa, but she was already heading off into the crowd. The blonde sped up to catch up with her, tagging after her heels towards a separate room blocked off by a curtain of silk, which they passed under easily. The demonappeappeared behind him, but Raphael wasn’t paying attention, studying his surroundings. It was dressed up like the room of an egotistical sultan, silks and satin in hues of red, orange, indind vnd violet trimmed with gold. Maybe it was the rich colors, or the thick Indian perfume that made the room seem misty- then he saw the incense burners in the corners, smoke drifting lazily from the jars. He took a deep breath o and and shut his eyes, sensation running down his spine as her voice returned to him.

“Enjoying yourself, angel?”

“Very much,” he responded and turned around, watching her emerge from underneath one of the curtains. The demon was wearing nothing but a short black skirt that had long wide skirts that was held onto her body by a golden belt; and a black lace top that only covered her generous bosoms. A golden Egyptian-style necklace was draped around her slender neck. He had to admit, the demon looked rather attractive with her black hair curled slightly at the tips around her face and body.

“What are you doing here, angel?” Hessa demanded, her voice adopting a taunting note while she took a seat on the chaise lounge and leaned on her side against several pillows. “I am sure your God would not be pleased in knowing you paid for a demon whore with one of his holy images.”

“I have come to ask about your mother,” said Raphael, deciding to get right to the point and judge her first reaction. She didn’t give him one.

‘What has my mother done this time?” asked Hessa, then added mockingly, “has she killed a few angels that you were oh so attached to?”

“This has nothing to do with the feud between Heaven and Hell,” said Raphael coolly, taking in the smooth thighs that she revealed by crossing her legs.

“No? Then tell me, angel, what does it deal with?”

“Eve.”

That got the woman’s attention. Her eyes flickered dangerously and Raphael tensed slightly, preparing for the woman to lunge, but she didn’t. She just sat there calmly, watching him for several minutes before bursting into peals of laughter. “Eve! The first woman? What would my mother want with that bitch?!”

“Your mother is being rather obsessed with her,” the blonde answered.

“Oh?”

“She is sending the woman heads, hearts and various other body parts.”

“And let me guess,” smirked Hessa. “The poor little woman is losing her mind.”

“Tell me, what is there that we are missing about the relationship between your mother and Eve?”

“My guess,” the demon said, shrugging her shoulders. “Mother thinks the woman is weak. Mother hates weak females that bend and bow to the whims of man.”

“Your mother is a regular Amazon queen.”

Hessa shrugged again and poured some wine, offering it to the archangel. “I didn’t poison it if that is what you are worried about,” she said, smirking when he regarded the silver goblet warily.

Raphael took it and brought the wine to his lips and examined the rim and the drink itself for any sign of poison; seeing none, he took a sip and lowered the goblet.

“See?” Hessa laughed at the surprised look on his face. “You angels don’t trust us at all, do you?”

“Should we?”

“No.”

“So the only reason your mother hates Eve is because the first woman is weak?” Raphael changed the subject.

“Well,” Hessa said slowly. “There might be one more thing.”

“Oh?”

The demon wouldn’t answer, calmly sizing the angel up with her dark eyes. Raphael shifted in the heavy silence, drumming his fingers against his hip impatiently before glaring at her.

“Are you waitfor for a formal invitation? Tell me what you know.”

Hessa arched an eyebrow and leaned forward, her eyes focusing right on his as she finally responded.

“Kiss my Arabic ass, blondie.”

“I don’t play that way,” the archangel retorted irritably, “however, I intend to do something with you. You are- after all- mine now.”

Raphael muttered the last sentence- more to himself than Hessa- as if he needed the convincing as he strode towards the demon and grabbed her arm to yank her onto her feet. Her body lurched up involuntarily, the archangel dropping hip cap carelessly to use both arms to snatch around her waist and torso. Hessa could feel the wine spilling beneath her bare feet like cold blood, but she wasn’t worried about it, trying to pull away from him, which only made the blonde hook onto her tighter, as if she was the only thing keeping him from floating away. The demon finally gave up, her claret eyes narrowing as she rested her head involuntarily against his chest; disgusted at the rhythm of his living heart.

“The pimp was right,” he told her softly with a kiss to her forehead, “you’re too proud for a whore. But I can change that.”

“Oh?” Hessa responded, flinching he brushed a hand down to her thighs.

“I have you as long as I can keep it up,” the blonde continued and smirked, “and adding how I haven’t had sex in nearly two weeks to a pretty little demon with a big mouth, that means quite the period of time- long enough to taint you at least.”

“Taint?” She repeated, “what are you going to do? Preach your godliness until I die of boredom?”

“Angels aren’t what they make them to be, toots,” Raphael told her.

“I know this,” she snapped, “look at us now! The humans made you into some kind of righteous breed to have something clean to hold onto. If they saw you as the monsters you are, they would’ve perished in their own miserable-”

Hessa’s sentence was cut off by his lips, her eyes bulging at the intrusion before narrowing spitefully, gripping mercilessly to the archangel’s shoulders to push him off, but never made such a move, curious of the motive behind his gentlenessaphaaphael let her go to breathe, his arms drifting off her torso to turn her around- cautiously at first- testing the water, but found the headstrong demon compliant in his expert hands. He swallowed the impulse to smirk as he kissed her neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot which received a generous response before she could catch herself. Hessa shoved a fist into her mouth; mentally cursing at herself before Raphael got a hold of her wrist and yanked that hand away, hard enough that her teeth tore through her own skin. He watched the blood form like little craters of red and brought his lips to the wounds, his other hand leading her down with him as he kneeled on the floor, leaning over her to whisper in her ear.

“You’re very clever, but I’m afraid you’ve finally met your match. Just look at you now- presenting yourself to me like a good little girl. I am going to enjoy you.”

Hessa glared, attempting to sit up, but was pushed back down onto her hands and knees- an uncompromising position as the archangel made himself comfortable between her legs.

“We can do it this way, you know,” he told her, “fuck like the beasts we both are- or would you rather see me as I take you?”

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed.

Raphael smirked and leaned over her back again. “Now is that any way to talk to the guy who’s going to give you what you want above all else?”

She laughed harshly. “What makes you so fucking special? Two dicks?”

“I can set you free,” he corrected and touched the collar around her neck, “and that isn’t an innuendo.”

The demon stared into space, completely registering this before turning her head around to look at him distrustfully.

“Why?”

“Because this whore house breaks at least five of God’s laws and must be stopped in the most righteous manner,” Raphael responded, but Hessa’s expression demanded the truth, causing the angel to sigh. “I do intend to put an end to this trap, and I will allow you to take revenge on that filthy pig. But after that, you must do me a favor.”

“And what is that?” She wanted to know.

“Accompany me until your debt is served,” Raphael answered, “in which time, you will be mine in body as well as in spirit. For in my charge I will recognize you as my territory, and will protect you as such. You may not even die unless I see it fit.”

“That is free?!”

“You can either go with me and breathe fresh air again, or deny me and live out the rest of your existence in this repulsive pit.”

Hessa paused, considering this before responding.

“How long?”

“Every dollar I paid for you will turn to days, so I estimate…” The blonde rolled his eyes to the ceiling, doing the math in his head before answering. “About a year.”

“A year?!”

“Take it or leave it.”

The demon sighed, her eyes lowering to the floor. “Why me?”

“Succubi are mindless,” Raphael responded, “they live because they were born- just like animals. But you- somehow- were born with a brain. Sure that brain came with an annoyingly big mouth, but we’ll work something out. Besides, it would be irrational to leave such a pretty little thing for the pigs to slobber on.”

Hessa didn’t respond, sitting up straight when the blonde got off her and turned around to face him, staring hatefully into his pale eyes, but the archangel refused to back down. She sighed heavily and turned her head, her glare focused now on a pillow- as if it were the menace.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll go with you,” she responded bitterly, “I’ll be your fucking bed buddy for a year. Just get me out of here.”

Raphael smirked. He knew she’d see it his way.

Raphael and Hessa walked through the halls of the brothel. The latter heading towards the room where the two human males had poured holy water on her were; while the former headed towards the pimp’s office. The pudgy male looked surprised to see him alive and in one piece.

“Was she not satisfying enough for you, white boy?” he asked, his tone taunting with criticism.

“She was quite satisfying,” said the blonde, lighting up a cigarette. “In fact, that is why I intend to bring her back home with me.”

The pimp laughed at this, the sound starting from his round belly and rolling up into his throat, making him seem like Santa Claus instead of a man that sold whores to wealthy men and women. “You cannot be serious,” he chuckled when he had finally calmed down. “No offense, my friend, but just because you survived an hour with Hessa, doesn’t mean you would survive more than a day in her company.”

“You misunderstand,” Raphael responded and narrowed his eyes, his face looking hauntingly dark and sinister behind the cloud of cigarette smoke. “I am not asking your permission, nor am I asking for your approval; even if I was asking for either of them, you would not survive long enough to voice it.”

“What do you mean?” Asked the pimp, paling. He could hear the screams of two of the other humans behind the closed door, and had a faint inkling what was going on. The sounds however, were drowned out suddenly by the piercing screeches of the other succubi and incubi as they too joined in the rebellion started by the daughter of the Morning Star, Lucifer. “What is going on?!” Shouted the pimp as he leaped to his feet. “What are you?!”

“I, human, am your worst nightmare,” said Raphael, his white wings slowly appearing from his back. “You have broken five of God’s laws with this house of sin.”

“Like God would care about such wretched beings!” Asserted the pimp, trying to reason his way out of this. “They betrayed him! He gave the angel Raphael orders to tell King Solomon how to enslave them!”

“He gave me orders so that they might come back to him,” hissed Raphael. “How dare you use such secrets for your own personal gain and pleasure! The laws of God are clear on such an act against him! Death!”

“No, please I beg of you!”

“How many demons have begged at your feet?! No, you do not deserve mercy; you have killed and enjoyed it! This is your punishment!” The pimp screamed as he was enveloped in white flames that licked at his flesh and ate him alive. “Burn in Hell bastard,” the archangel told the ashes and turned to walk out of the office and into the main room, taking a look around with slight satisfaction of the carnage he found there. “Go back to the Hellhole from which you came and never show your face again!” He said before walking out the door. “Hessa, come!”

Hessa snarled and ignoring the curious glances of her brothers and sisters, followed the blonde angel out of the brothel and into her new life.