(Story order: 1. Hell's Napkin 2. Uncomfortably Green 3. Leviticus Sandbox 4. Something Wrong 5. Black Eye Perplexity; also Azrael Drabbles: short stories from my universe)

Rain flooded from the mournful black sky, drenching the traveler. He hated that he had to walk the distance from the Garden to this slush pit by the Red Sea. He wasn't sure why he had to walk, some sort of dramatic effect he assumed. A punishment. He didn't understand a lot of the things God did. Even his name, for example, seemed a little bit off… 'whom God helps'. He scoffed at it's definition, 'When did He ever help me?'

By nature, he was an artist. He was content to spend the days creating. There were only a few humans on the Earth, so he didn't get much opportunity to exercise his creativity in inspiration. So, instead, he decided to create a creature for this little experiment of a planet. The result was the duck-billed platypus. It wasn't exactly what he had been hoping for, but it was his own creation just the same.

Now he was out in the mud and the rain, a most miserable situation. He had been sent out to do this unpleasant task because no one else would. Everyone else was afraid. In truth, he was as uneasy about doing this as much as anyone. He had one advantage over the other angels though; Lilith actually liked him for reasons unknown.

After that damnable war in Heaven, he had been on shaky ground with God. He had refused to fight for either side. The whole war was ridiculous in his eyes, a waste. He was an artist, not a fighter. He didn't really care who won, so long as it was over with quickly. Even his own sister joined in the madness, fighting on God's side. The rebels were sent down into Perdition, a place of infinite cold and misery… sadness. Rumors were flying that he, too, would be sent down to the Pit soon for his refusal. That was the reason he agreed to do tasks that were not in his job description. When Michael, Gabriel, Israfel, and Germael had all failed to retrieve the dirt that was needed to create that thing known as Adam, he had succeeded. He was even assigned the task of trying to understand the disposition of the human soul and was given the new title Archangel of Death. The angel took his newfound assignments very seriously, though all he ever truly wanted to be was an artist.

He continued to trudge through the mud. He was walking slightly stooped, his wings extended up and over his head, in a makeshift umbrella. He was the only abstract with wings and he was quite proud of that fact. They had been his reward for helping to create man. He was also the only male among all the female muses. He had one sister and several female cousins. Not that there were actual genders per se.

With all the female influence, he had gone on to implant the idea of women's rights into Lilith's mind. It was innocent enough, to open her mind up to the fact that she was equal, if not better, than the monolithic Adam. But, things went sour quickly and the doormat called Eve replaced her. This whole ugly incident solidified in his mind that God was defiantly neither male nor female, despite Her appearance.

His destination, a small dilapidated hut, was almost within reach. The hut shouldn't have existed, not yet. But it, like many things created by both angels and demons, didn't necessarily fit in with the time period.

A high pitched, pained female scream wailed in the night. He stopped and stared across the divide at the hut. He had never heard the sound of mortal pain before. Was it too late to turn around? Yes, he realized it was too late the moment God told him what She wanted done.

His mission that night was actually a simple one. He was charged with the task of taking Lilith's child from her. Taking a woman's newborn baby seemed like nothing, but it depended on who the woman was. She wasn't completely a human, as she was never born. After she left Adam, she began taking up relations with various demons. Mind you, this was still a few years before God had removed all the sex organs from every single angelic being in all plains of existence. The business with Lilith was one of the key reasons why.

It has been said that Lilith gave birth to one hundred babies a day, but this is simply a myth. While she was still living, she gave birth to only one child fathered by a lowly demon named Dagon. She had been warned that if she did not return to Eden, her baby would be taken the moment it was born. But, she could not return to Eden; would not return.

Her screams echoed once again through the pitch-black night, finding the angel's curious ears. He found it most disturbing. He sighed and continued on the few remaining steps to the hut.

The door to the hut creaked as the angel pushed it open. He stood in the doorway and shook the rain from his wings before folding them behind himself. The smell that soon greeted him was so offensive that it was almost blinding. Blood, filth, sweat, excrement... the putrid smells of humanity. Angels and demons are generally scentless, though some angels do tend to give off a faint floral or baby powder scent. The angel wrinkled his nose. He thought that if he had a digestive system, he may very well have vomited.

The visual wasn't much better. Lilith was on a dirty brown blanket, legs spread. Her tattered dress and surrounding areas were covered in blood. Much more than there was supposed to be. Dagon was at her side, watching with great curiosity. Humans were new creatures to everyone. And, birth… well… it was a horrific event unto itself.

The angel could only watch as a small head appeared from between Lilith's legs. It was such a sight that he couldn't look away. He had never seen birth before… or blood, or pain. He didn't care for it in the least. Disgusting creatures, these mortals. He took a couple of steps forward to get a better look. He took note of the baby's forehead, no horns. Good, he thought, maybe he wouldn't be asked to kill it after all. He didn't know why God wanted the baby, except perhaps just to punish Lilith. Grudges aside, the truth of it was that the child was not really human, angel, or demon. Therefore, it couldn't remain on Earth.

With one final push, the baby landed on the filthy blanket. Lilith lay back. She was exhausted, panting, and nearly dead. The angel knew that she wasn't long for the mortal world. At least not in her human incarnation. The baby seemed by all accounts to be a normal healthy girl. Though no one at this point knew what a normal healthy baby actually looked like. Not knowing human anatomy, neither the angel nor the demon knew that the baby should have had an umbilical cord, which she lacked. However, she had a belly button, which was not unusual. All of the angels and demons had belly buttons, though God refused to tell anyone why. The baby did not cry. She was not harmed in any way, just she didn't cry. She had no reason to. She wasn't a recycled human soul mourning having to live again. She had a purple tint, covered in blood and other fluids... quite ugly.

Neither Lilith nor Dagon offered any resistance as the angel stooped down and picked the baby up off the floor. His hands instantly became red and sticky. He held her close to him, making sure not to drop her fragile little body. She left similar sticky places on his already wet and muddy formerly white suit.

Lilith lifted her head, eyes barely open. She spoke in an ancient, long dead and forgotten language.

"I never thought they would have sent you to do their dirty work."

The angel shrugged.

"I'd like to think that the Powers thought I was the best man for the job. But, you just scare the others too fucking much. When all else fails, send the muse… that seems to be the motto these days."

Dagon glared at him, wordlessly cursing. He didn't trust anyone from 'up there'. The angel nodded in a friendly gesture, despite the hateful look being cast his way.

"Dagon."

Lilith's voice grew fainter.

"Is there no alternative?"

The angel shook his head 'no'. Without pausing to think of a possible way to help her, said, "I'm sorry…"

He turned and headed to the doorway, glad to soon be rid of the smell. He shifted the baby in his arms so that she would be protected from the rain by his jacket. As he moved her, he noticed that she had two tiny black growths on her back, similar in structure to angel wings. He puzzled over them for only a moment before tucking her safely away. He had more important things to worry over than a baby with wings; namely trying to figure out how to keep from being tossed out of Heaven.