Chapter Two : "Hellraiser"

Hissing, the male nightstalker took into the air, tremendously large wings making a roaring sound with each flap. His dark black and green skin, blotted with spikes at each of his joint endings, made him stick out against the moon. Clasped in his taloned feet was a corpse, mutilated beyond recognition; parts sewn back together by the muscle, most of its skin knawed off. The head had been pulled off, the skull and spine kept in a small bag at the demon's waist – the brain having been taken out and fed to a wild wolf he had started keeping as a 'pet'.
Swooping down low to the ground, he let go of the cadaver, watching it drop into the large, uncovered hole that led into a complex maze of underground tunnels and caverns; home. Then he landed, on all fours, bloodred eyes turned up to the waning moon. What was this feeling in his chest? Her?.. He couldn't tell. She had been reborn only a few times, and he had found her only twice before; but by the bonds they shared, he could always feel her soul when she was back. Her rebirths were his joy – one day, he would find her, his mate; and again, and they would be one once more.
He would not let death separate them any longer, when he found her. He would make her immortal again. And he would protect her more fiercely. He would not let the past repeat itself.
Standing, he moved towards the hole, jumping in. The cold, dry earth felt good under his feet, and he stood up to his full height, pulling down the trap door that stood between the world and him. His wings relaxed onto his back, fluttering only slightly every so often. Grunting, he cracked his knuckles and stretched, feeling tiredness overtake him. But with sleep came dreams, and he welcomed them both. It was a need he had had when he was human, to sleep, just like it was to eat – though he could still sleep, eat, and dream. Though his current food was mortal flesh.
Leaning down, he grabbed the body, lifting it up and over his shoulder; getting more blood and filth on him than he had had on previously. Starting to walk through the caverns, he dove deeper into thought, retreating to a memory he held dear to him… the memory of meeting her…
It had been a beautiful day in the land of Khem; which now in this day and age was called Egypt. The civilization was well advanced for its time, though they still worshipped gods who were not gods, but immortals playing the role. He had been Set – he fit the part, looking scaled, evil, with the teeth of a true predator. Having been given permission by his Master and Creator, Beelzebub, to visit for the sole purpose of finding a concubine to sate his natural lusts, he had been received with the glory general kings would receive upon returning home from battle.
Being worshipped and feared, he had become rather happy here – though it was dull. Day in and day out, of good food, good women, and aged wine grew boring for him. So he had taken to stalking the halls of the many temples surrounding the palace, meeting others like him.
Today he was visiting the palace of Isis, rumored to possibly have the goddess visiting. He doubted the truth of the rumors, though; they described a woman of great beauty, with wings ofdark hue, and mismatched eyes. Possibly cooked up, like many others, to have the church grow – he didn't think an angel would let themselves be worshipped by mere humans, the godforsaken fools. They were prideful, and conceited, but would refuse to let any mortals near him – and from the description, the woman had to be an angel, who were known to have those features, at times.
Turning a corner, he stiffened, the smell of something delicious, like fine wine, drifting towards him. Anxiously, he licked his lips, starting to salivate – it smelled delicious, a scent he had never encountered before. The meat would taste just as good, he hoped. Growling lowly, his wings spreading slightly so as to catch whatever it was if it ran, he turned yet another corner, the soft light of candles dimly illuminating the room.
Sleeping soundly, on a bed of fine linens, was a beautiful girl, her unnaturally long white hair curling around her face and body. White and black markings circled around on her body; he recognized them as runes, though of what language or creed he could not tell. And folded out from her back was a pair of bloodred wings.
He had heard stories of her before – she was the archangel, the creator of mortals, the giver of immortality. And the daughter of his creator, Beelzebub…

Author's Note: Still don't own JC.
Damnit.
But Roberto (aka Conostrene) is mine, along with
Victoreannas, the archangelpersonthing.
Beelzebub (Bob) is also mine, yay.
Don't be lame and steal, kiddos.
It makes Bob cry. D;
And crave afteryour human flesh.
Love, VW/BAC
(lame-o!)