Azazeal walked briskly into the unconsecrated church he called home, his heels clicking on the hardwood floor, and strode down the length of the room from the entrance rather than using the back entrance. He did this when he was irritated, adding to his own annoyance by taking a longer route, and subconsciously, although he didn't realize this, approaching what would have been his Master's sacred alter like a common supplicant. He would have denied it but when he was feeling lost his thoughts turned towards his former existence as an angel, a servant of the Most High.

Azazeal went directly to the kitchen and angrily grabbed a bottle of wine, wrenched off the stopper and poured a ridiculously large glass for himself, even though it was nine in the morning. He stood there for a moment before taking a large drink and making a face at the unpleasant feeling of gulping wine.

"I'm a fool," he said aloud to himself with more exasperation than he would have shown to one who served him. They would have been very interested to know that he was harder on himself than he was on them.

"You don't have to convince me," a voice rumbled out of nowhere.

Azazeal's whole body tensed and he nearly shattered the wine glass in his hand. He forced himself to wait until he could turn around slowly rather than whipping around in agitation. It always amazed him how hard it was not to respond in haste to the voice of one above you even when the ranks among them were fluid at best since the fall.

Turning as casually as he could, Azazeal responded, "I didn't know you would be stopping by."

"Yeeees, well I drop in, you know, it's what I do best, leaving trouble in my wake and such, but really, boy, have you lost all of your sense?"

He knew, of course, he knew everything. How, none of them knew, but as insane as he was, he just knew.

Azazeal had just spend his night, his entire night, staring at that stupid school or more precisely at that specific window behind which Cassie slept. He had been, pitifully, in tears because this woman, no this girl, had told him she never wanted to see him again…and she was pregnant with his child. And all that night, the thought never occurred to him that his original intention had been to produce the being that would bring about the End of Days. That was what Lucifer was here to remind him of.

"I…"

"You know when I chose you for this mission, it was your…charm that I wanted to make use of, not your weakness for the female human. You're supposed to seduce her, remember."

"Yes, I…"

"Now focus on the job at hand, deary, or you will pay and as much as I adore torture, I'd rather be fighting heaven."

Lucifer turned to go and then Azazeal, quite against his better judgment blurted out, "She's different, you know, she makes the pain go…away."

Lucifer whirled around in a sudden fury and Azazeal did not bother to be surprised. You didn't say such things to the Ruler of Hell, even if he was crazy and completely delusional.

"She what?" he said, too calmly.

"She…We made love and the pain…the pain of His absence left me for…"

"Ah, for how long, hm, how long did the pleasures of the flesh keep you from feeling the agony this time? Hm? You are a fool! Maybe it's time to pick a new angel for this mission, one who doesn't fall in love every time we're getting some where."

"I don't…"

"Every time, Azazeal, every time! Admittedly, you're well and truly smitten this time, like with that Egyptian chick, but you never fail to get attached. It's your nature, I understand, but really, are you so lead by your heart that you can't complete a simple mission?" Lucifer said smoothly and yet his words were dripping with condescension

This jabbed at Azazeal's sense of duty, he was a being that had been meant to perform functions among the mortals. He had been given the ability to foster trust for a reason. He retorted angrily, "This is my mission and I will complete it! Why should it matter what I feel?"

Lucifer paused for a moment to consider this.

"Feel what you want, but remember what it is that we're trying to free ourselves from. Remember the pain. It's there, throbbing inside of you like it is in me. In the deepest dark of your soul…you're screaming in anguish and she would never be able to silence you despite what you think you feel in her presence."

Azazeal started a little.

"Oh, yes, I know what flights of fancy you've thought of but you can't have her, because in the end you will make her skin crawl. In the end, you will destroy her mind and hate yourself even more."

"She is different. What if this time…?"

"Why do you never listen…none of you ever LISTEN! I repeat myself over and over and over…"

"They are not as weak as you think. I've spent a lot of time with them…"

"These humans are not the answer, they have never been the answer. They are nothing but another torment. We're fascinated, even me, though I'd have to say that I spend my time amongst them more productively that you, but they are nothing. Insignificant. A means to an end. Fill yourself with hate, with vengeance, forget all that absurd divine programming and destroy this little experiment of His."

"It's not that easy," Azazeal spat out.

And he was right. Unfortunately, there were rules, things the Fallen could not do. When a strong enough witch was found to bear the bringer of the apocalypse, none of the fallen were capable of raping her. She had to be seduced and talked into it, which is where Azazeal came in. Even the Satan himself, who courted violence like a lover, had never taken a women, or a man, against their will…against their better judgment, yes, but not, technically against their will. They couldn't kill at random either, though they, Lucifer in particular, could cause mortals to rage against each other, there were only certain circumstances in which they could extinguish a life.

"No," Lucifer answered him, "It is not easy, it has never been easy, but I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!"

His vengeance, Azazeal thought to himself, not theirs but his.

"She will give in eventually, they always do. You chose me for my talents now let me use them. You know I can't force her, perhaps my feelings will convince her to help us. And perhaps I will not destroy her."

Disconcertingly Lucifer smiled gently like a father, "It hurts me to see you this way. I understand, I know the pull that your old angelic purpose has on you but, she will not accept you. Why do you continue to torture yourself with the dream that love will save you? Leave it behind, Azazeal, leave it all behind and turn towards evil and everything that is the opposite of Him."

It was simple for Lucifer to say that he should forget his old purpose, abandon his love of humans, but it was not that easy. Hadn't he, hadn't all of them been created to do His Will. Isn't that where the pain came from, the absence of his Will pressing on their consciousness, the gaping void in their hearts where His Love used to reside in all of its warmth and comforting strength?

"Have this woman if you want, but you must control her. She is not something to love, but a thing to be used and despised."

Despising God's creations did not exactly come instinctively to them but the pain did wear on them and then Lucifer, beautiful, insane, and strangely convincing would whisper in their ears and all Hell would break loose. He was not the most devious really or the most cunning, but he was the most distraught. You could see it in his eyes, even when he was giving his most inspired speech to the demonic legions, Lucifer was in torment, a private Hell all his own, because his love, his adoration, his worship of the divine had been beyond their capacity and now there was nothing but a cold and empty whole that His brightness used to fill to overflowing.

"Our pain will only cease with his His destruction or ours, Azazeal, and we must not let him decide which."

What was sad was that Lucifer was the only one that didn't know that he was delusional. He was the only one that didn't break into tears after having gone on an evil rampage through the mortal realm to distract himself from the pain. The only one who didn't sometimes beg that emptiness in themselves for forgiveness as if some spark of God remained there, waiting for the correct words to be said to take them home. The only one who refused to offer any apology for his behavior. Lucifer threw himself into this existence, wallowed in the pain and acted out in misery induced malevolence because his Master had put him here…and even he could not keep himself from, in his way, embracing this punishment and increasing his own pain to acknowledge his submission to it. This was his nature, his inescapable programming, to accept God's judgment that he was anathema and execute it to the fullest.

"I will not fail you," Azazeal said finally and more enthusiastically he had expected. Lucifer had been the one used to call them all to worship, always being the loudest voice and the most devoted. Now he called them all to corruption and cruelty with the same ardor and they listened because they had always listened.

"Good, very good!"

Please review! And by the way why does now one ever review La Petite Mort? I re-read it last night and I must have been horney when I wrote that...geez!