"Angels are supposed to be pure right? Not punished... not abused... not neglected. I must not be an angel. I'm a sinner... that must be why I'm in hell."
Destrious whispered to himself, wrapping his wings around his body for protection. He shivered from the uncomfort of the cold, concrete floor. The burns on his wrists started to burn and his wings ached from staying in one postion for so long. He couldn't remember what time it was... maybe four am? Maybe 10pm? Who knows...?
Suddenly, the heavy door swung open with a loud screech, causing Destrious to cover his ears and scream aloud. Only in hell would you hear such a noise!
"Oh my, your not dead yet?" Luther laughed and slowly walked towards the whimpering boy trembled as the tears started to fall, hiding his face behind his wings."Shhh child, don't cry." The older man whispered softly, kneeling beside Destrious and putting a hand on his shoulder. "It'll all be over soon."
He felt something break. It took him a second before he screamed in pain, his hand reaching out to stroke the injured feathers and bone. Luther had stepped down on his wing to prevent him from using them.
"B-Bitte ... zu stoppen. T-Tu mir nicht weh." The young boy whimpered and sobbed softly. He resorted to begging... he was desperate.
"Sorry kiddo, I don't speak whatever the hell that was..." Luther laughed at him and patted him on the back. "Speak english and maybe i'll listen... probably not though."
The demon dropped a small box in front of the angel and left, slamming the door behind himself. After he left, Destrious took this as an opportunity to heal his wing. Relaxing slighty, he summonded up just enough energy and softly placed his hands on the swollen, fractured area. He could feel it minding and combining... it burned worse than Hell's fire, but it was either that or beg Luther for help... he knew he didn't have that much courage. The last thing he saw before the world went black... was Luther's face in the mirror.