CHAPTER 1
(Note: This story involves Angels, Demons, Whores, and themes that you might not like. Be mature, please. YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ THIS. If you think you get offended easily, don't read it. If you don't like the fact that the Angels and their little servants aren't the good guys, you don't have to leave an angry comment. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)
"Madame Angeline, she's done it again," A timid voice squeaked out from a crack in the door. The Madame in question looked up from a pile of notes on her desk and let out a sigh, rubbing her temples with two slender fingers. There was no need for any clarification. There was only one She that it could be. And that She was in trouble. A lot of trouble.
The Madame pushed the plush chair she was seated on away from her desk and walked to the door of her study, a stormy look growing on her sinfully beautiful face. Sinfully beautiful. That pretty much summed up her entire body. Straight from her large black curls and her pair of golden-yellow cat eyes to her hourglass figure molded into perfection. But the sight of it to the poor timid creature that had squeaked out earlier was terrifying. The Madame swept by the girl and walked through a few twisting hallways until she stood at the top of a set of magnificent stairs. A red carpet was rolled down the stairs, stopping a few feet short of a set of grand wooden doors. The room below was decorated in rich reds and satin blacks. It looked like a large living area decorated with loveseats and huge chairs large enough for two or three people who weren't afraid to get cozy. Oh, and the place was decorated with whores. You can't really forget that.
The whores weren't the run of the mill women of pleasure, though. They were the cream of the crop. The best of the best. They had to be to even get inside the door of the Dancing Devil, which was undoubtable the best of the pleasure houses. They were all dressed in scanty clothing ranging from nearly see-through night gowns that only went down far enough to cover the nasty bits to elegant (if a tad slutty) pirates lounging at a bar in the corner. Everyone wore clothes, though. Everyone but one.
She sat on top of the bar, legs crossed, black nightgown on the bar top beside her and lace underwear twirling around one big toe. A blonde mane of curls fell down her back, a few strands curling around her front. A flock of men had gathered around her, eating up the view that all the other girls lacked. And they were getting it for free too. That was what made the Madame angriest. Nobody got to enjoy themselves for free here.
"Christin, what are you doing?" The madame's voice rang out, stopping most conversation instantly. The girl froze before pasting on a brilliant smile and looking up at her boss, who was poised at the very top step, one hand resting on the railing, a look of cold death in her eyes.
"I'm working, Ma'am," The girl answered, a touch of fear showing in her eyes when they met the Madame's. Those eyes of cold death were joined by a cold grin, which made little Christin go pale.
"Ah, working. And do you remember my policy with your work? Regarding that." A gleaming black nail pointed at the girl's abandoned outfit accusingly. Even from her perch, she could see the girl gulp in dread, and rightly so. Madame Darsam was a frightening woman when she got angry. And her girls knew that angering the woman was as close to a death sentence that you could get.
"Yes, Ma'am. I do." Poor Christin's voice was but a croak now, which showed that she knew that she had pushed the woman too far. In the past, Madame Darsam had been a bit amused by the girl's shenanigans of breaking the nudity rule. Now, the Madame's amusement for the girl had run out. Madame Angeline gave a predatory smile and started down the steps, looking almost regal with her smooth prowl.
"Really? Because I remember you saying that last time this came up. And the time before that. And the time before that. You think you're funny girl? Too good for the rules? Or are you just a dumb piece of trash that should be working on the streets?" She hissed, eyes narrowing to slits. The girl gave a tiny squeak of fear. Working on the streets always led to one thing. Death. And it was usually after being abused and beaten to a bloody pulp in this town. Little Christin was lucky to be in a pleasure house protected by one of the most ferocious women in the entire damn country. "Now, get out of my sight. I have more important things to do than deal with than you right now," She sneered, flicking her fingers and sending the girl fleeing, clothes clutched to her chest. The Madame followed the girl as she bolted up the stairs and down a hallway that headed for the girl's personal rooms, a satisfied sneer on her face.
"You're getting soft, ya' old slut. You would have thrown her out into the street in itty bitty pieces last time I was in this trash heap," A silky smooth purr sounded off loudly from somewhere near the front door.
The Madame turned around, a hand moving to her hip and a saucy smile curling on her face. She answered smoothly, "At least I'm not a gutless Prick like you. What is a piece of pig shit like you doing in my business?" She sashayed forward and pulled to a stop in front of the owner of the purring voice.
"You're still terrible at bantering," He grinned, sauntering forward to meet her in the center of the room.
He was dressed in a fine black suit and held an elegant cane in one han. Teasing black hair hung about his eyes in a bit of a messy manner, that went at odds with his sharp outfit but just made him look all the better. He had a handsome face that had a wicked tilt to it too. And that face was watching her with amusement as she took him in. That made the woman glare at him for a moment before a wide grin broke out on her face and she pulled him in for a warm hug, slapping his back warmly in welcome.
"It's good to see you again, Drake. You don't visit often enough," She sighed into his ear. She could feel his smile as he chuckled into her hair, one hand sliding up her spine to tease at it.
"Same here, little Angel," He answered in a bit of a teasing tone. She bit his ear hard enough to draw blood in reply to the name. He only laughed harder.
"Let's talk in my lounge, " She said, pulling away, licking at a spot of blood on her lip seductively. Her guest of honor tugged at the edge of his collar with one hand while she claimed the other and dragged him up the stairs with her, casting a commanding eye out to her girls to get them back to seducing men away from their money. The two were soon settled into Angeline's private lounge, a bottle of wine and two gleaming glasses on the table nearby. The room, like the rest of the establishment, was in shades of black and red. The woman sat with her legs curled under her, shoes on the plush carpet under her. Drake sat across from her with his leg crossed over his knee, picking at something stuck to the edge of his shoes, avoiding her gaze.
"So, what brings you here, surely not just my fabulous company and my girls. You never have enough time for old friends between acting as errand boy to our Seven overlords and puppeteering politics." Angeline finally said, reaching over to fill their glasses.
"Damn it, I was trying to at least get you in bed before we talk about business"
"You couldn't afford me, Hun. Even Kings can't afford me most of the time," She purred.
"I'll just have to save your life then. Ladies always fall in love with the guy when he saves their life, and end up having mind-numbingly awesome sex with them." He leaned forward over the table until his lips hovered just a hair's width from her's, begging for a kiss.
"Mind-numbing sex? Well, that sounds positively wonderful. But I don't work for free. Save my life, and you can win a night with this." She sighed into his mouth before pulling back teasingly, making her guest give a sighing groan. "Now that I've crushed that adorable puppy dog crush you have, why are you here?"
"Fine, the Seven are on the move." Drake gave a dark grin, switching emotions so quickly that it made the queen of whores feel lost for a moment. Then, she returned the smile with one of her own. The seven. They used to be angels. They embodied pure things. Then they fell. And they became everything that made up her world now. Greed. Lust. Envy. Pride. Wrath. Gluttony. Slothfulness. And a few lucky (Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it) mortals got to serve these seven monsters. They sold their souls for untold power. They carried out the seven demon's will by offering them the souls of those who danced in sin. The favorites were gifted with unaging bodies, among other gifts. This order of favorites only numbered to seven most of the time, the same number as the seven Masters. They called themselves the Horsemen. Angeline and the man across from her just so happened to be members of this exclusive and diabolical group of politicians, whores, thieves, murderers, and all manners of evil that had somehow attracted a demon's gaze.
"Is it that time again already? I thought we already owned the Earth. Don't tell me that we march on Heaven next," Angeline replied with a grin
"You misunderstand, Little Sister. It isn't our Seven who are on the move. Haven't you felt it? The seven generals of Heaven's Army are marching on Earth. They mean to destroy everyone. Horsemen, demons, humans, everyone."
(So this is a minorly edited version. The dialogue was played with a bit, but that's around it. Sorry if it feels unfinished [That's cuz it is lol]. So, things are gonna be explained over time. Angeline will have her faults show up, don't worry, she's NOT a Mary-sue character. We will get to learn more about this war, the world, and all of that junk as we go. So stick with me. I'm kinda making up the details as I go. ^^ If you have any comments or criticism, feel free to throw it at me. I don't care how mean you are. I have a thick skin. If you just want to be a troll, go ahead.)