Chapter 2
"Filthy swine!" the man roared as she dug the blade deeper into his arm. "Just shut up for some time" she sounded bored but in reality she was seriously doing her work…it was frustrating when her emotions always came out as bored. She wanted to sound frightening like her other brothers and sisters. "You'll pay for this you-"The man's eyes which were a strange pearly white shone yellow for a second and then the pearly white of his eyes and the ash blonde of his hair darkened to brown. He seemed shocked at the change. He looked at his hands; his glowing white skin (I'm not being racist) had turned to chalky white. He glared at her; his eyes were dark with rage. "You will pay for this, demon of arrogance Belial!" he spat with venom.
"Unfortunately the curse thing doesn't work anymore, Angel of Monday Muriel" She sighed "You're human now…I just cut off your 'grace'" she sighed "It's your fault for killing my brother…dad was really mad, so he gave me the blade." She ran her fingers through her silky black hair and turned around.
"You'll pay for this…" Muriel cursed banefully.
Belial yawned and walked away into the darkness of London's alley ways.
…..
…..
"How dare you sleep with some cheap whore when you have me?" the lady half cried-half screamed at her husband. The man looked down at his feet guiltily while the loosely dressed 'whore' casually leaned against the family's tattered house smoking a clove cigarette.
Belial sat herself on a neighbouring building with a bored expression on her place…She didn't understand how humans could be interesting to her siblings, they seemed really boring to her.
The angry wife brought out a Butcher's knife from her apron and in a fit of rage ran it right through the man's genitals. The prostitute screamed, dropping her cigarette and her aloofness and tried running away, failing miserably as she tripped on a rock. The crazy woman caught up with her, driving the blade straight through the whore's plump breasts. She pulled the knife out, a crazy smile on her face. She then saw her husband, her facial features twisted in shock and grief. She ran up to him and held him close to her bosom, bawling her eyes out. Finally she dug the knife into her throat, ending her life as well.
Belial stifled a laugh at the scene below her. Humans weren't interesting but they definitely were funny. She was going to hop off and roam more when she saw a flash of red enter the spotlight. A transvestite, a pretty one, long red hair and a petite figure draped in a long scarlet coat; a chain saw that seemed too heavy for him slung casually on his shoulder.
Belial grinned; her usually dull green eyes flashed neon. So this was a soul reaper; seemed interesting enough. The said soul reaper looked around, making sure he was alone and reaped the three souls. This was spectacular, she had never seen a reaping before since she had only visited earth once before. The way the cinematic records of the souls swirled around him, like a new angel being born of another angel's grace…
"My lady…" She was interrupted by the stoic voice of one of her father's familiars. She turned to see a busty blonde in a maid outfit. "What do you want?" she snapped irritably. "The blade my lady…" she bowed down. Belial dropped the blade on the maid's hands. "Now be gone." She spat. "One more thing my lady…" She got up and looked straight into Belial's eyes, silently pleading for something. "Your brother is not in the best of shapes and your Father requests you to help him out…" she bowed down again. "I've got a lot of brothers' y'know…" Belial frowned at the familiar's bluntness in conveying a message. "I do not wish to mention his name…But I can help you out with identifying him. He's the one that hasn't come home for over fifty years…" the familiar lowered her eyes painfully.
Then it all came back to her, cold hands that lifted her from a pool of blood, the black blood of demons and the silver of angels, those hands that had wiped her way her tears and dressed her wounds and cared for her during illnesses. The owner of those hands was the reason for her childish appearance. She was the youngest sibling, yes but demons usually shoot up to whatever age they preferred to look like after the age of five. She looked twelve and that's how she would look for eternity.
"Oh him…" Belial looked at her feet with a slight frown. "Where is he." She asked. "Here in London, taking refuge in an abandoned bar 3rd building from Primrose hill. He'll be immobile foe quite a while….and that reaper you see over there…"
"Oh yes, marvellous creatures eh?" Belial smirked. "Yes…The reaper's got some history with him. Don't ask him questions though; it's been over half a century since those two had a little chit chat… I've just got this small hunch you'll be meeting him a lot." The maid had switched to a more comfortable tone of speech. " I'll be going then" Belial turned to leave, she always made her goodbye's short and crisp because most of her relatives still thought of her as a mere hundred year old (her appearance was to blame) and kept spewing stupid advices. She gave one last glance at the Reaper, the yellowish green of his eyes rippled with wetness…he was crying? 'What went on between these two?' she mused as she leaped her way through the thatched roofs of slum infested London. She had a lot to deal with…A broken Demon, an evident apocalypse and her pride.
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Sebastian scratched at the nasty stubble he had gotten; it was surely infested with lice. He sat on the deserted bar's rickety old wooden stool downing himself in cheap wine(It didn't get him high, he discovered that after four barrels.). Things weren't dandy for him anymore. Ciel's soul was so delicious; it was hard finding one in this weakened state. He was starving and so utterly weak he actually wanted to go back to his broken home of warring brothers and sisters. But he wouldn't go…that would be a blow to his pride.
"Well you're in a sodding mess…" came the high pitched trill oh a young child's voice, holding the same cockiness his previous master had possessed. He turned to see a girl about twelve with silky black locks of curly hair framing her beautiful face, her green eyes almost shone through the darkness. She wore a black dress shirt laced with ribbons of black satin, matching shorts (the kind Ciel wears or in the context of this story…wore) and knee length black leather boots.
"Belial?" Sebastian asked, his smooth seductive voice had turned scratchy and worn out. "Look at you." She said in an almost amused voice. "Come on, let's get your sorry arse back home,eh?" Sebastian looked away. "I'm not going." He muttered. Belial rolled her eyes. "You have no pride left, brother….come home with me, at least you'll save face." Sebastian shook his head. "No."
Belial sighed and took a seat next to him. "You know what? I'm gonna help you…" she pulled at Sebastian's stubble playfully. "How?" Sebastian asked smiling a little. True, he hated most of his siblings but Belial was an exception. "I'm going to give you my meal. I think you need a chance with catching the big fish…Emperor Nero satisfied me for three centuries." She said.
"So, who's this person?" Sebastian asked a little curious as to whom this big fish was.
She smirked "The name's Churchill."
TBC…
