"You can't walk with God while holding hands with the devil."
-Anonymous
-Ω-
He was light and life and everything beautiful. He stood in his true form and blazed like the sun, the only sun there was and the only one that there ever will be. He had thousands of wings, only two of which could be seen in his human form, and he was beautiful. He extended his hand, his eyes blazing like a thousand fires and his smile nearly blinding to those who lay their eyes upon it. The smaller soul, much smaller in fact, flapped his single pair of wings hesitantly, feeling insignificant, which only made him smile more. With impossible tenderness of something with such immense size, he caressed the angel's cheek.
"Do not be afraid, young brother of mine, I will keep you safe," he crooned in a voice that ripped through all of creation, a heavy baritone that simply could not be ignored.
"I cannot go with you," the other angel replied weakly. It was hard to resist. His brilliance could not be matched, other than that of God Himself, and his voice was so reassuring, so confident, that the angel wanted to fall to his knees and beg to join him. But he knew that that would be wrong. "I apologize."
"Why are you holding back, brother?" he questioned, his voice laced with genuine puzzlement. "You have so much potential within that body of yours, yet you put it to waste bowing to higher powers. My brother doesn't even see you, to him, you're merely a messenger." He spat the last word out as if it were poison, and all of a sudden his glory and grace faltered and twitched, replaced with something much darker, and the smaller angel flinched away at his harsh words. For some reason, he didn't like to think that Michael only saw him as a colleague. It hurt to say the least. Lucifer was powerful, powerful like no other, almost as powerful as he was radiant and glorious. He was everything that the small angel could ever hope for and more, and that's what made him so dangerous.
"I must remain loyal," he replied, though his voice quivered. He sounded so meek compared to the one in front of him, so paltry and puny both in size, beauty, and demeanor. When he saw the other's unconvinced look, he repeated, with more confidence, "I must remain loyal. I shall not defy Him or His good Will."
"You speak of Him with such reverence," the glorious one hissed, and once again his form flickered. "He is nothing but a liar and a fool."
"You blaspheme!" the smaller angel cried, growing furious. He raised his wings up, his feathers flaring, and though he was approximately the size of the humans' Empire State Building, he was dwarfed by the angel in front of him. Despite that, he was a warrior, and was willing to fight for His name.
The mighty angel didn't even bat an eyelash, his smile becoming crooked. In a voice that was more commanding than it was encouraging, he said, "Come with me, Perseus. You will have everything and more, I guarantee." His voice was as soft as it was deadly, like honey-coated venom, and his voice compelled the small angel, Perseus, who nearly crumbled to his knees in effort to resist.
"No, I will not join you," he growled. "This is the end of the line, Lucifer. You are my brother and I love you with every single fiber of my soul, but you are becoming something that I do not wish to ally myself. Look in the mirror and you shall find what I am referring to. You are corrupted. You are sinful. You are tainted. Please, I beg of you, repent and ask for forgiveness so you can be the brother that I once knew."
Lucifer snarled, a sound that shook the very ground they stood on. "Very well, but I will not hesitate to crush you when you stand in my path." And with a mighty boom, the sound of thousands of wings beating at once, he was gone. Perseus wept and grieved his loss.
-Ω-
"Lucifer," Percy whispered, reeling himself back into reality once he processed what he'd just heard. He had to brace himself on the steering wheel in order to keep himself from slumping into unconsciousness, his wings, crushed against the seat, thrashing a bit in his shock. Lucifer was up and kicking, and if he was hard to resist before, then he certainly would be impossible to turn away from now. He was the embodiment of sin and deceit, of lies and blasphemes, and now that he'd concentrated all of his power on that darkness, he would be able to lure his friends to their deaths. Perseus knew how his brother, since all angels were technically related in that weird sort-of Greek god and demigod way (it was perfectly okay for them to date one another without it being creepy), could amass an entire army with a mere word, how he could say 'jump' and the entirety of Heaven would shriek 'how high?', and worst of all how he could send his brothers and sisters into battle like lambs to slaughter. The temptation of pleasing him was too hard to say no to.
He could only imagine how he would lay waste to Earth. His demons were already able to travel to his realm and back, and his hold was slowly tightening on the world, so much so that he was able to capture the Archangels. They'd voiced their concern about the stirring of evil on the ground before they'd disappeared, and that was the one detail that they hadn't relay to the humans; the Archangels hadn't just disappeared into thin air. No, they'd all descended to Earth to check out this amassing evil had had been captured. Until now, Heaven hadn't known what had done it.
The residents of this world, the humans, didn't stand a chance against him. Lucifer was too well known, too feared to be faced down, and even his friends' fallen angel lovers were no match to his shattered and corrupted divinity. Lucifer would obviously weed out the weak ones first, striking deals with them only to have their soul in return. Pretty soon he'd mass an army of souls, as well as the bodies that they'd left behind, and on top of his demons, and fallen angels who wanted revenge, it would be an army that even Heaven would be wary about facing.
He'd then continue to destroy all of the levels of humanity. The ones who weren't supposed to survive the first dealing; the weak minded who hid behind stronger pillars to anchor themselves. He'd then destroy the ones who were only barely hanging on, and then after that the ones who were strong but just not strong enough. Of course, he'd do this through plague, drought, famine, earthquakes, thunder, volcanic eruptions, and hurricanes, pitching Mother Nature against the children she nurtured. He'd find a person's one small weakness, their fatal flaw if you will, and exploit it until there was nothing left. By this time he'd have a group of battle-hardened humans who wouldn't go down without a fight, all so worn and numb from all that they'd witnessed that they'd become emotionless warriors who didn't care who got hurt in the crossfire.
Then he'd slaughter them all himself. A fox sealed tightly in a chicken coup full of fat, flightless hens.
Perseus shivered at the carnage he imagined and shifted around uncomfortably in the automobile, the machine very unfit for a person with a twenty foot wingspan. Black feathers littered the interior, and his wings had developed a severe case of pins-and-needles from being squashed against the seat for so long. At that moment he didn't seem to notice or care, because that was the moment when he saw the dark shapes coming towards him. Shapes that he knew were neither friendly, nor human at all. With trembling fingers he raised his walkie-talkie to his mouth and whispered, "Fahrenheit."
Drop everything and run.
There came a chorus of cries from the receiving end, a jumbled mass of alarm as the voices of his friends called out to him, but he slowly switched the intercom off, swallowing hard and closing his eyes as the sweat that had been peppering his brow began to leak down his temples. He turned around to see more shadows looming behind him, and it didn't take a genius to know that all were armed to the teeth, firearms being no exception. If he took flight they'd fill his wings with lead, and if he ran they'd fill his body with lead. It was a lose-lose situation, with chances of escape being so small that they were almost nonexistent, and so with a heavy heart Perseus opened the car door and stepped out, wanting to at least go down with pride. Angels couldn't die, but that was only from anything on the mortal plane of reality. Demons had weapons that could destroy an angel's divine grace from the inside out, making it collapse in on itself and therefore kill the angel. All you had to do was put a blade of the right material through it. Perseus could practically smell the reek of Stygian Iron in the air.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," the demon asked, his completely glowing yellow eyes unshielded from him. A double-edged Stygian Iron blade glinted in his hand, and he ran his palm over the flat of it, which was as black as obsidian, and just as sharp and deadly. Percy wanted to laugh at him for the cliché line, wanted to poke fun until they ran him though, but he was too loyal to his friends to do that. Hopefully he'd still be alive when they located him.
"What do you want?" he asked, backing up a little as the demons approached, only for his back to connect with the very muscular and firm chest of another that was behind him. They closed in, and he felt his heart rate increasing. If only he'd brought his angel blade, Riptide, to Earth, but that was forbidden. Damn Heaven and its good values.
"I'm not supposed to tell you, but I honestly couldn't care less. It's not like he could treat me any worse than he does now. I'll let you in on a little secret; you made quite the impression on Lucifer when he'd confronted you all those years ago," the one that he'd just bumped into purred, shaking her head and causing the snakes that made up her hair to hiss and squirm, glaring at him with slit yellow eyes. Leviathan. Medusa. Perseus began to realize just who these demons were, and they certainly weren't just lackeys. They were the real deal. The heavy artillery. "Let's just say your will and resistance was quite impressive, and he'd very much enjoy breaking it."
"Hey, can we just talk this out?" Percy tried, forcing a smile as his wings folded tightly against his back. He was glad that these demons didn't know what angel wing gestures meant, because right now he was practically radiating fear, trying to shield his wings from any damage that they might cause to them. "Because this sounds very painful and I really don't want to go through with it."
"You think he wants to torture you?" the other demon asked, his golden eyes flashing. Azazel. Kronos. "Well yes, I suppose so, however he has something else in mind."
"What would that be?" Percy demanded trying to sound headstrong and confident, but his voice was wavering as the demons closed in.
"Let's just say that Michael took something away from Lucifer that he really loved. Now he's going to do the same, except with a little more kick to it and a lot more pain on Michael's part," Medusa chuckled darkly, and her snakes laughed along with her, sending the hairs on Percy's arms to stand up on end.
"I don't understand…" His brow furrowed, and he frowned.
"Jesus, are all angels this fucking stupid?" Kronos scoffed, twirling his Stygian Iron dagger while grinning like a madman. "No matter. It's not of importance if you understand or not. We do, however, have to take you down to Los Angeles."
"Why there?" the angel asked, puzzled, but his heart was roaring in his chest.
"The Boss is a big fan of dark irony," the yellow-eyed demon crooned, his voice sickly sweet. "It'll be fun when the rest of your pals realize that he began murdering the world in 'The City of Angels'. So he opened the gate to Hell there.
-Ω-
"You're failing," the angel bellowed, his rust-colored wings flaring out behind him to a rather imposing size. The other angel looked no better than he, though instead of outwardly expressing her anger she affixed the assembled humans and fallen angels with a gaze that was withering beyond compare. "You were given a task and you're failing." They were on the roof of the Golden Swords' headquarters, and the wind was buffeting them mercilessly, howling at them and screaming their sins to the skies.
Percy is missing.
Percy is gone.
They lost him.
They let him get taken.
Perseus the messenger angel had been gone for three days, and all it took was him muttering that one word into the walkie-talkie and the state the car was in when they came back. It'd been destroyed. The windows had been decimated, the tires slashed to bits of rubber, and there were hand shaped dents on the roof, like Percy had been grabbing onto it before they'd whisked him away. Lucifer had Perseus, and even though it wasn't in any way her fault, for she could've done nothing to prevent it, Calypso felt responsible. She had a tendency to blame herself for things that she had absolutely no control over, but as a fallen angel she couldn't help but think that she should've been taken instead. Fallen angels were so much more expendable, and Percy still was a beacon of light, a shining soul that had literally went to hell and back just to get his wings back. It felt null and void now; that whole adventure, when Rachel had called her and her fallen brothers and sisters to action for the sake of one angel's wings.
Calypso had kept in touch with Rachel and the others after she'd left to live with Leo, but now they constantly moved around the country to help fallen angels of all different species and degrees of guiltiness. She hadn't contacted them since she'd been dragged to Heaven, really, and wondered how she was faring with the Archangels missing; without Uriel to cast angels from Heaven, she had no business, though what the redhead did have was quite the amount of mouths to feed. Sometimes she misses the life of companionship; falling asleep curled up next to the warm bodies of countless of her siblings. Then again, pickings had been slim, and not for one moment would she regret having gone off to marry Leo.
Speaking of which, she turned to her husband and watched as his eyes narrowed at the comment. She knew that look on his face; it was the "I'm going to blow up" look, which she had seen many times, and before she could shut him up he bellowed, "Listen, babyface, we're trying as hard as we can," he bared his teeth, his hands balling into fists, "but it's a bit hard considering you and the rest of the Heavenly Hotheads put us up against the king of Hell! A little help would be nice!"
"Don't speak in such a manner!" the angel bellowed, his eyes flashing, and it took Calypso all but a moment to remember just how powerful angels were when they weren't contained or mutilated. She'd gotten so used to being fallen, as well as being around others like Nico and Percy, that she really didn't take into consideration the fact that the angels up in Heaven were nothing like them, and that most of them hadn't even been to Earth once. She missed the powers that she'd once possessed, but it was difficult to miss something that you barely remember; she'd been fallen for centuries, all because of a brawl she'd had with a stuck-up fire angel named Odysseus, who left her and never came back. "Your manner of speech is vulgar, both in words and in attitude towards a superior." Now it was Calypso's turn to get defensive. No one talked to her husband like that.
"Don't you dare talk to my husband in that tone!" she snapped, stepping in front of Leo despite his clear distaste in being protected. He immediately batted her off and took a stance as the big, macho, bad boy husband that was defending his wife's honor, since being protected by his wife, however, was a severe blow to his masculinity. Calypso decided to have a talk with him later about the times when showing his manliness was appropriate and the times where it was just plain stupid, though he did look very astounding with his tousled curly hair and his (slightly impish) face that was full of determination.
"I know I'm biased," he growled, "but by the interactions I've had with other angels that haven't fallen at one point, I've come to the conclusion that they're so stiff and rigid. It's probably because sticks are shoved so far up their asses that it's physically impossible for them to be any other way!" The angel opened his mouth to roar a retort, his eyes blazing with all of the fury of an avenging angel, when Jason stepped between the two of them.
The blond had been absolutely wrecked when he found of Percy's capture, so much that he'd actually locked himself in his old room at the headquarters and had only allowed Piper to enter. More often than not Calypso had heard quiet crying coming from behind the door. If Calypso thought she was the one that always blamed themselves for everything, then she was kidding herself. Jason was ten times worse, with that trait imbedded into his genes, and it didn't help that Percy was a very, very close friend of his. They'd been through so much together that at one point Calypso thought that Jason was hella gay for Percy, but it was more of a brotherly bond. God, if things went in the direction she thought it was going, this would turn into a Supernatural melodrama.
Jason's expression was calm and collected, his blue gaze scanning the assembled people steadily, but there were shadows under his eyes and he had an unruly stubble from countless nights of trying and failing to locate Percy. He followed leads that led to nowhere, clung to mere coincidences like they were lifelines, and his slow degrading had an effect on everyone, Piper mostly. When he spoke his words were measured, but Calypso could see the anxiety in his eyes, "Calm down, both of you." Reluctantly, they simmered down a few notches, though the dirty looks exchanged couldn't be ignored in the slightest. "Instead of fighting, we have to figure out a way to take down Lucifer." He nodded to the two angels. "Hazel, Frank, we're sorry for not solving the problem, but Calypso is right. Lucifer is a much bigger enemy than us, and you can't expect this to be done and over with so soon."
"But you let Percy get caught by Lucifer's minions," Hazel hissed. "You left him alone when certainly you of all people should know that he is vulnerable on Earth without backup-" Gwen cut him off.
"Don't accuse us of that. If we'd known of this so-called 'vulnerability', then we wouldn't've let him out of our sight," she told her. Her voice wasn't boasting or ratty, just factual, and Calypso mentally applauded her ability to not snap at the winged bastards. She couldn't believe that she'd once been among them, and couldn't help but wonder why any angel would want a life like that. Growing stiff and judgmental while being crushed under the weight of so many rules and regulations. Come to think of it, all of that was for the sake of two wings and the ability of flight. Why would she ever want to forsake her free will just so she could fly? Humans could fly on parachutes, gliders, and planes, and every other place was either walking, driving, or train-riding distance away. Then she saw the look on Frank's face. His stoic façade had crumbled and he was staring at them with a look that was very akin to that of a lost puppy.
"He was my friend, I suppose," he whispered, suddenly hesitant and unsure as he wrung his hands together. "Of course, Perseus had no true friends, best buds with his work as you all would say. But when he came back and had met you humans, he set his standards so high." Hazel touched his shoulder gingerly and kneaded the muscle in a reassuring way, egging him on. "Human nature cannot be mimicked by a celestial being unless they have lost their holiness at one point or another. I, we, tried so hard to be his replacements, since he was unable to interact with you, but he would have none of it. He was always polite, always willing to hang out, but he sometimes blanked out, thinking about his times back on Earth. Sometimes he'd have flashbacks. He was so out of place, like a Greek in a Roman camp."
Hazel continued for him, "You're still his true friends." She gestured to herself and Frank, "We're still his…acquaintances. And we have to save him; you did make a good point, Leo. As his companions we are partially in charge of his well-being. All of us. And we failed not only the mission, but him. We truly and wholeheartedly wish we could join you, but our angelic grace will be like a beacon and alert Lucifer of your presence. You won't be able to get within ten miles of him before he's gone."
"But we will act as your command center," Frank cut in, and Hazel looked surprised, though she didn't comment. He was clearly making this up on the spot, and she had undoubtedly not been informed of their new position as their super-secret-spy informers. "We'll stay in Heaven and inform you of all of the affairs going on. We'll somehow seize hold of some demon tracking and dark occurrence detecting technology." There was silence for a moment, and Hazel had a pondering look on her face, but then it suddenly lit up with delight.
Turning to Frank, she exclaimed jovially, "I have ties with the lead Cherubim, Malakai, and I can get us access to the world map! That comes with the studies that they're doing of suspicious, otherworldly activity, too." Calypso would be lying if she said that she wasn't impressed.
"You know Malakai?" Frank blurted, and the former messenger angel of Michael nodded.
"Michael and he collaborate…collaborated…constantly and I eventually got to know him from delivering messages back and forth." The rusty-winged angel mumbled something under his breath about liking to have known that earlier, but didn't outright demand to know all of the details.
"We'll be joining you," Gwen chimed in suddenly, her hand clasped tightly with Dakota, who nodded in his agreement.
"What?" Everyone, including the two angels, asked simultaneously.
"Gwen and I have lived a long, happy life," Dakota sighed, looking around sheepishly at the shocked faces of his friends. His family. "We lived and we don't want to go through that again." He took in a shuddering breath when he found that someone had yet to reject their decision. "Gwen died a week before me and the grief was just unbearable. And come on, who wants to go through that awkward mid-life crisis again?" All of the humans simultaneously shook their heads, though Will had yet to discover the joys of middle-age and arthritis.
Annabeth stepped forwards, and both of them flinched, but instead of blowing up about how they wanted to abandon the mission, she placed a steady hand on Dakota's shoulder. "I understand," she told them quietly, smiling. Her eyes were glassy, but her face was determined. "I hereby relieve you of your duty as members of the Golden Swords. You've served bravely and you've served well." He turned to the others. Jason, Reyna, Nico, Will, Leo, and of course Calypso stared back, and even though their expressions were sad and pained, having to lose their friends again, they didn't object to their wishes. Annabeth nodded, her jaw set. "Then it's settled." She turned to Frank and Hazel, who'd been watching the whole thing quietly. "If that's okay with you."
"If Metatron is upset then he'll have to deal with it. That's the one thing about free will; people who have it won't take no for an answer once their mind is made up," she replied, and everyone laughed. Her golden gaze raking over the assembled Golden Swords, "We'll be off, then. There's not much Heaven can do, but hopefully we'll get in touch soon." She held out her arms, the perfect depiction of an angel in all of those old paintings that was reaching out to the souls of Earth, and Dakota and Gwen gladly joined her and Frank at the edge of the facility. Calypso really hoped that it wouldn't require the two to die again, but when she caught Frank's eye he shook his head no, knowing exactly what she was thinking. He and the messenger angel spread their wings, ready to have the currents lift them up, when suddenly Frank grabbed Hazel's bicep in an attempt to make sure she didn't leave.
She looked puzzled, but that's when the rusty-winged angel turned to the humans and fallen angels and asked, "By any chance do you know if Perseus' condition has gotten any better?" Genuine worry and concern teased the edge of his expression, but Calypso was beyond puzzled. Looking around, she was glad that she apparently wasn't the only one who was bewildered.
"Condition?" Nico asked, his brows knitting. "No."
"But aren't you his best fallen angel friend?" Hazel inquired. She began to look anxious too, and she and her lover exchanged a look that Calypso couldn't quite figure out. Dakota and Gwen waited patiently with them, though they looked both curious and dumbfounded at the same time.
"Of course he is," Annabeth cut in, having been silent for the whole exchange, immersed within deep thought. She'd been affected by Percy's capture as well, but did her best not to show it. Calypso had spent a night with her just listening and comforting her woes about the missing angel. "I was close to him, too. We all were. But he never mentioned any sort of condition. May I ask about what you're talking about?" Her arms were crossed and her brows were knit and the corners of her mouth were downturned, though the same expression emerged when she was brooding.
"You mean he didn't tell you?" Frank's expression had gone from nervous to downright fearful, though in his eyes there was something like pity directed at them. Mostly to himself he added, "I suppose that would've been the best option if he didn't want them to worry," though that comment was almost lost to the rushing of the wind.
"Worry about what?" Reyna cut in, her voice as demanding as ever.
"Ever since he came back to Heaven, Perseus was crying blood. Angels aren't meant to return to Heaven is they've fallen and it can have an…effect on them."
"What sort of effects?" Will sounded fearful, and Nico gathered his boyfriend's trembling form into his arms. Calypso couldn't imagine what the blond was feeling, since crying blood was something that they were all, unfortunately, very acquainted with, especially him.
"Percy is, technically," Frank inhaled sharply and screwed his eyes shut, "a Watcher."
-Ω-
Once he opened the door, the smell of blood slammed into him like a wave, and a small, cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The acrid, sharp tangs of fear and pain were present as well, entwined with the jagged, and rather delectable, metallic reek of gore. It was pitch-black, the darkness engulfing everything that touched it, but he could see without a problem, and it wasn't like the cell was large or anything. There were no windows, the walls all impenetrable titanium, and there was nothing contained within it except for a barely humanoid form that was sprawled in the center. On the walls were sigils and signs that one didn't have to be an expert to know were of the darkest evil, all of them inky black and engraved within the walls and ceilings, keeping the prisoner contained.
Speaking of, at the sound of his arrival, the captive curled in on himself slightly, barely having the strength to move. His wings were bound together with wire so tightly that they'd begun to bleed long ago, and the flow never seemed to ebb even slightly. Boy, the angel must be uncomfortable, for the wires prevented him from even folding up his wings without enduring excruciating pain, so he was forced to keep them spread in the air, which must've ached beyond any comparison, not to mention the fact that the wire was cutting off his circulation. Had it been any normal wire binding the angel's wings, then it would've long since snapped due to wing muscles' incredible strength, but this wire was made of a material that wasn't native to the human world. The Stygian Iron effectively kept the angel's wings in check and caused him that little extra pain.
The prisoner moaned, and there was such agony packed into that one little, pitiful sound that he almost laughed. As he approached, he could hear the angel's heartbeat screaming in his chest, slamming against his ribcage and begging to be let out, and his blood was singing. He loved that song, the song of fear that all blood sang when their bodies were terrified for their life, longing to get out and escape. With the chains that attached each of his limbs to the floor being only five links each, he knew that that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He studied his prize, his gaze raking over his trembling form, covered by clothes that were held together by threads, and traveled to his wings. Even if it was dark and they were covered in blood, those two, arching wings were a beautiful shiny black that he couldn't help but admire. He'd never seen wings that were completely consumed by black, and not even his own had been that way, despite what others would suppose. It was rather alluring, and he grinned as his plan unfolded; the plan to tear his brother down brick by brick. It all started with him taking away every little think that he loved. Starting with Perseus. He mused how he could use a new mate since the prisoner had slaughtered his other one. Not that he cared; she'd been a bitch.
Another whine tugged from the angel's lips, obviously against his will, and his grin only grew. The angel was quite the stunning sight, even covered head to toe in his own blood. His hair was as black as his wings, though it had grown unruly and matted, and his eyes, oh his eyes could make any other angel fall from Heaven. They were a blazing sea green that glowed dimly in the dark, however it was less than pleasing to see the steady streams of blood leaking from his tear ducts. It was a rather cruel fate, wasn't it? He wasn't technically a Watcher, so he wouldn't crumble to dust, but that only prolonged his suffering. Watchers weren't technically living, but the angel here was, and he would keep dying over and over and over again as all of the blood leaked slowly, but steadily, from his eyes. He was pretty sure that the angel had already died twice during his stay here, where the stress caused the blood flow to increase considerably.
"Hello, Perseus," he crooned, shutting the heavily armored door behind him and going to kneel beside his brother. They weren't technically brothers, both just created by God, and he hated how angels called one another that. Heck, some lovers had probably called one another 'brother' or 'sister' at one point or another, which made it a bit incest-y. Perseus remained silent, a smart move, but he didn't think that he could speak if he tried. "Remember me?"
"Lucifer," he whispered in a voice so quiet that even the Fallen King, with the exceptional Archangelic hearing that he had, had to lean in to hear him.
"Oh good, you haven't forgotten," he replied, his voice sickly sweet, like honey covered poison. "Though it seems that you've tried your best to do so." He rose to his feet and began circling around the angel, a panther stalking its cornered prey. "You never write," he kicked Perseus in the side, ripping an ungodly scream from the angel, "You never call," another shriek as his foot connected with the angel's bleeding, wound-riddled skin, "Hell, you didn't even give the time to Iris message." He tutted, a master chastising his disobedient dog, but didn't kick him even though Perseus had braced for it. "How do you live with ignoring me?"
"How do you live with corrupting one third of Heaven's forces, slaughtering the others that were smart enough not to join you? Your own kind? Your own flesh and blood?" the angel growled, a predatory sound that was barely human. Lucifer's haughty mask cracked, and for a moment his eyes blazed with unfathomable fury, but instead of smiting the angel then and there, he calmed himself and forced a grin, though it looked more like a grimace. It did serve to scare the angel, though, for his razor sharp fangs gleamed sinisterly.
"You hurt me," Lucifer scorned coldly, placing his hand over his chest in a mock imitation of getting shot. "You should really see a therapist and talk about how you should think before you speak."
"Bite me," Perseus hissed.
"Ah-ah," he waggled his finger at the green-eyed angel. "You shouldn't speak to the one about to free you with that tone." Perseus froze up, his eyes widening, and Lucifer failed to conceal his triumphant expression as he produced a beautiful golden skeleton key, using it to unlock all four of the angel's manacles. Luckily, Perseus wasn't stupid enough to lunge at him, and for that he was glad, because then things would just become much more tiresome and painfully bloody, the former applying to Lucifer and the latter applying to Perseus. The Fallen King knew better than to free the former messenger angel's wings, though; being a messenger angel, Perseus' wings were twice the size of a normal angel's and almost as powerful as an Archangel's wings, perfectly capable of snapping Lucifer's neck when he wasn't looking.
"I'm going to give you a choice, Perseus," the fallen angel said lowly. "You can be a good boy and stay, or," he snapped his fingers and the door swung open, "you can run." Beyond the door was a seemingly endless hallway, lined with doors on either side. All were unmarked. All looked the same. From the defiance in his eyes, Lucifer knew that the angel wouldn't opt for staying, but sooner or later he would find that there was nowhere to run here. Nowhere to hide. Faster than the human eye could possibly perceive, and Lucifer was glad that his eyes were of a much higher register, Perseus was off like a bullet. Even if he didn't have his wings, he was still faster than the average jet fighter on foot. No sooner did the prisoner's toes touch just beyond the threshold of his cell did the hellhounds begin to bay, their low, moaning howls echoing throughout the fortress as they detected that a prisoner was free. Lucifer smiled as he heard the layered, double-toned howl of Cerberus' two heads as the Fallen King's pet caught a whiff of the delectable smell of Perseus' blood, which was still pouring from his eyes. That would make it all the more easier for the hounds to find him.
He drew his Stygian Iron sword, a primal gleam lighting up his eyes. "Ready or not, Perseus, here I come!" He spread his wings, which were mutilated scraps of white feathers that clung to a ragged bone structure, barely there and only capable of serving as a fear mechanism.
"Come out come out wherever you are!"
-Ω-
(A/N) HOLY MOTHER OF UPDATE STREAKS. This chapter didn't need much editing, I just combined two chapters (considering I already have them written out) and checked for spelling mistakes. Please review your thoughts, and thanks to ImaGuest for their very uplifting and helpful reviews. Sorry bout long update blah, blah, blah PLEASE REVIEW
Disclaimer: I do not own PJO