Torment... that's all this place had been since Lucifer had waged
war on god. Tzadkiel had been a devoted servant to God. He was an angel of
death, and had always served his task without a question why. That was before
God created mankind. Then He found himself shunned and feared. The angels of
death had loved mankind as much as any other angel, and Tzadkiel was one of
those who sought to ease their minds on death...
When lucifer led the rebellion against God, it gave the angels of death the
perfect opportunity to make themselves heard. For their digression, they were
rewarded with damnation.
Being sent to hell was just too much for some of his kind. He'd watched
angels turn to horrific monsters, he'd seen them give up hope and give in to
the evil nature that hell instilled in each of them. These killers were called
slayers... others, like himself that sought God's forgiveness, had not remained
untouched by Hell's taint. Tzadkiel was an Angel... and remained so throughout
his time in hell... but his weaker moments, when he gave into hell's corruption
had made him a demon. A corrupted Angel... not fully in league with Lucifer,
but not able to escape him either.
The torment of hell had weighed heavily on Tzadkiel for millenia,
threatened to send him insane, but he kept strong and fought off both insane
despair and insanity itself.
Now he was bitter. He loved god, and in return for his love, he was
condemned.
It was time for him to go home... time for him to show just how much
potential he had. And so he watched the world of man... and waited for the
right time... the right place...
********************************************
For Danny, his second year at college didn't hold many good portents for
him. His girlfriend had split with him for a member of the school football
team, he was the laughing stock of the whole year. She'd been cheating on him
throughout most of the first year and he hadn't even realised... and he then
had the constant humiliation of seeing her fawning over this new boy of hers.
"Hiya Danny, how are you?"
"...Fine. Thanks Linda."
The lie scorched him from the inside, but he wouldn't ever let her see it.
Fine... he'd been fine since they split but inside, his love for her, mixed
with his anger burned away at him. The constant abuse he'd been recieving from
the jocks when he performed in concerts was affecting him deeply.
He had given up on life... given up on trying. The large scar on his chest
from one guy's physical bullying was symbolism enough of the hardships he was
prone to. Sometimes he'd wished the knife had slipped, that it would have
pierced his heart and then he wouldn't have to have gone through all this pain.
But he was never that lucky. His only luck was that he was a talented singer
and piano player, his lack had ran out there.
But after tonight, he would be fine. Everything would be right and he'd
finally be happy.
He watched as Linda sauntered past him with her all-muscle-no-brains
boyfriend and then turned and went to his dorm. He opened the door and sighed,
passing through the threshold and closing the door behind him. This dorm room
had been his own since his dorm buddy Jason disappeared towards the end of last
year. His stuff was all still on his own side. He'd not gone and invaded what
he still considered Jason's space through the constant possibility of someone
new being placed there.
He now had his mind made up. He went to his drawer and pulled out a large
piece of rope. He then pulled a chair across to the area of the room where the
rafters held up the roof and climbed up on it, he then tied one end of the rope
to the rafter.
With the loose end hanging in front of him, he then made a noose. He stared
at it for a while. Thoughts of doubt flashed through his mind. But then he
thought of one thing... what did he really have to live for?
He slipped the noose over his head unceremoniously. After all, this was a
means to an end, not some ritual you do more than once.
He knew that if he'd done this before now, he probably would have cried and
chickened out. But he didn't have now what he had then... now it felt like he
had nothing. Pain, intense pain and heartache. Nothing more. And soon enough,
not even that.
Standing on that chair, he thought for a second about what he was doing...
he could see no other way out, and besides, he'd either be going on to a better
place, or he'd just be gone. That thought didn't frighten him as much now as it
had in the past.
But it was time to stop thinking about it. In one conscious move he kicked
the chair from beneath him and felt himself drop...
Pain, pain and panic... the rope burned, pinched his skin, its coarse
texture rubbing against his neck as it squeezed ever tighter. Breathing was
agony... he couldn't even be sure he was breathing. He could hear the ghasps,
but felt no air entering his lungs. The fact that his lungs still had air he
was trying desperately to exhale panicked him more... his chest felt like it
was expandind and about to explode and his neck... the pain... oh the pain...
SHIT! Oh shit, it was supposed
to be quick! My neck was supposed to break. Oh Jesus... I can't breathe! I
CAN'T BREATHE! Oh God! Oh GOD! shit... my neck... oh Jesus... not like this...
oh Christ! No... NO!
He could hear the rope creaking as he swung, his legs frantically, trying
to stand on something, but to his despair he found nothing except air, his
hands clawed desperately as the rope suspending him in this agony, he tried to
climb up it, to haul himself up and relieve the pressure, but the noose just
got tighter with every frantic struggle... but now he could feel himself
getting tired, his aching arms and legs continued to fight... but his eyes were
blurry and although ghasping for breath... his attempts were less and less
energetic.
Damn it... not like this... my
neck... it hurts so much... but I'm so tired. No more... please... no more...
just let me go... I shouldn't go like this. I never...
... silence. His arms fell limply to his sides and his legs no
longer moved. And there he hung like a macabre marionnette puppet, swinging
from side to side. His eyes open in a pained, yet almost grateful stare. The
only sound to fill the room was that of the rope that now supported his dead
weight. Still trying, fruitlessly, to squeeze the life from his already
lifeless body...
********************************************
Shit... where the hell am I? And what the fuck am I doing?
It didn't take him long to realise, he tried to open his wings, but they
merely beat against his ribs. He was in a human form... and he was hanging a
few feet from the ground.
Without much effort he severed the rope holding him up. He slipped it off
and examined himself in the mirror. An angry red burn mark greeted him and he
felt a sudden wave of shock roll over him. He could feel the former Danny's
terror at the mark upon his neck and he could not fight it. It was centuries
since his last posession and he had forgotten how to control things like
emotions.
What the fuck? Jesus, look at
the size of that rope burn... that's gonna be hell to cover up.
He decided it would be best just to stay in this dormitory room for a
while, until he'd grown accustomed to this new body and its functions...
"Oh well... here goes nothing..."
