Present Day: Hell, 4th Circle - G.R.E.E.D

Dante and Castiel had made it. This was the fourth circle. They called it greed. Like the first circle deceptive look of a castle, this circle was a city made of gold where the souls of Greed hung by their necks from chains in the sky.

It was a menial task to pass through these circles. They weren't always beasts. The guardian demon who held the circle by the fist was not always one they had to defeat in combat. It was not the matter of outsmarting them. These trials weren't about overcoming the sin...they were about succumbing to them. The slow tear of mortality failing. That was the test. To prove that you were more wretched than the human soul who's only sin was this. That was what granted you access. That was what allowed you to go to the next circle. And like always, the portal to next circle would open somewhere in the plane of existence.

Here, it was the act of retrieving the golden cup from the middle of the city. Seemed easy. But it was not. Each soul that had tried was one of those hanging from the sky. No one could resist the bejeweled cup. But Dante explained the very simple trick to it. It was not meant to be taken for Greed. Those with purpose besides their own didn't need to take the cup for themselves. You simply had to take the cup by the stem and maneuver it clockwise. The portal to the next realm would open from there.

It seemed ridiculous and far too simple to be just this.

But then Castiel realized what he was talking about. Once they made it to the center of the city, it was the cup itself so close to his eyes, blinding him with its light. He was never a greedy person, he never wanted anything in excess. Riches or power was pathetic in the stories of man and how they had succumbed to it time and time again in the past, but this was different. This was crucial. For some reason, it was crucial.

Dante had saved him before against Lust. He didn't fail this time either. He called Castiel to attention and that was all he needed to bring himself back. It took tremendous effort to focus on that. The name. His name. The sense of "I". He was Castiel and he was here for a reason. The sin of Greed was not something he was immune to but not something he would suffer for.

He turned the cup clockwise.

Moments of clarity were rare for what they were doing. The moments peace was all they had. Especially after a chase like that. Dante had found them a place away from the city where they could rest. It was a tiny pond full of filthy water, but Castiel had never been so relieved to see water in his life. It was not like he needed it to drink like a human would need to survive, it was simply the matter of being clean, he supposed. Hell was filth and grime and fire all around. Even the golden city was burning to the touch and reflecting the red sky, it looked like the buidlings were on fire.

"Rest up while you can," said Dante, pulling off his garments. Steam rose off his skin when he did. It was the first time Castiel had seen him unclothed, and he could not stop staring. Aside from the fact that Dante had a fairly attractive body, there was something else. Something more prominent that caught Castiel's eyes instantly like a moth to a flame.

It was the scar on his chest. A simple line in the middle of his breastbone with a faint tracery of black around it. The most curious scar he had seen...surely some type of dark curse. It looked horribly painful. Yet he could not stop looking at it. The longer he looked, the more aware he was that Dante was eventually going to catch him in the act.

So he did, misunderstanding the action. "Like what you see, celestial?"

"No," said Castiel, feeling an unfamiliar surge of heat touch his cheekbones.

"Listen, it's been a long time for you. Maybe you should think about investing your time in someone else in the mean time,"

"Your lack of shirt wasn't what caught my attention, Dante," said Castiel reprovingly. His eyes snapped on the mark on his chest. "It's that. Where did you get it from? It's a very unique scar."

Abruptly, Dante looked uncomfortable. He pulled his jacket off the ground and pulled it back on, zipping it up over the scar. "We should press on. Are you through?"

"I am," said Castiel, standing up after splashing his hands through the water once more. Nothing could clean the sweaty feeling in his palms. Nothing could wipe the blood off his hands. It remained there, smeared until it trickled between his fingers. This was the curse of Hell. This was the curse of being in this realm.

The portal wasn't far. He could sense it, like he could have the other three times...and it wasn't long before they reached an overpass where it was against the side of a mountain, calling to them with a bright blue light. Castiel made for it first, Dante making no rush to follow. He hardly found that surprising and he didn't care. He didn't even care what circle was next. The quicker they got to the next circle, and the next and the next...the better.

Just when Castiel was a few feet away from it, he hit something face first. It repelled instantly, cold and unwelcome. His face, his body had flattened against something that felt like it was made of extremely thick rubber. It wasn't unbreakable, but he didn't want to test that. It was a spell, a very powerful one, and Castiel could tell just by the way it shimmered cyan that it wasn't going to go down easy.

This was a lock spell. It required some sort of payment. Similar to Dimensional Doors. Dimensional Doors usually required payment as well...except this spell wasn't strong enough for that...Who could have cast it? Greed? Surely not.

"Dante, what's going on?" Castiel asked when the Fallen was close enough. "There's a barrier here."

But Dante didn't answer him. Castiel turned to find the Fallen circling him with a weapon drawn. It was the first time he had seen Dante's weapon up close. He usually kept it strapped underneath his jacket, but up close it was a strange design. The hilt looked like it had been carved from bone, the blade itself had a series of red markings on it that took a faint glow. Castiel recognized some of the marks as sigils of the Fallen, each was a different name, different mark.

He was mesmerized by it for a moment so he didn't catch wind of what Dante was doing. He was drawing a complete circle around Castiel with the edge of his sword. Then he backed away, raising the point of his sword a few inches off the ground to point at the circle in the dirt and set it on fire. Immediately, Castiel was in a ring of blazing red flames. His eyes swiveled around in confusion for the briefest moment before rage settled in like a snake.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"This barrier is not for me. It's for you," said Dante. To prove the point, he stepped right to where Castiel had just been, and pressed a hand through what Castiel could not penetrate. His hand was inches away from the portal.

"For me...Why?"

"You have passed through four circles of Hell. You have done what many might believe impossible for one of the celestial realm who didn't fall with Lucifer. However, that is irrelevant. Pride. Lust...Gluttony...and Greed. These sins are child's play for what's coming next," It was like it wasn't him talking. Dante was carefree. Dante didn't give a damn. Dante was here for his own amusement, but there was no amusement in his eyes. No joking. He looked upon Castiel with promise. "Sin is life. I warned you when you came down from the celestial realm that you'd have to sacrifice in order to complete this mission."

"Dante, let me out of here," Castiel all but growled, his hands clenching into fists.

"I can't. You must. You have to leave the circle yourself. I warn you, once you walk through the fire, your destiny will be changed forever," Dante blinked and stepped forward, inches away from the towering flames. "Everything you learned in the Celestial Realm cannot help you here. Beyond here lies nothing but pain...and despair...So I ask you...Are you ready for this? Are you ready for that...? Are you prepared to give everything you have for this?"

Castiel stared at him for a long moment. Surely, he wasn't being serious? But he could detect no lie in Dante's words. Just a detached coolness that was so unlike him. He had been warned of this too many times already. Dante and Crowley had said something to this nature already.

He regarded Dante with barely contained impatience. "You already know my answer regarding this."

"Then, step forward, Castiel," Dante prompted.

He wasn't afraid of the fire. Fire was an element of Will. It did not harm him as it would a human. Taking a precarious step forward, Castiel eyed Dante with disdain before he continued in one long stride until he was out of the circle. He felt a brief flash of heat, but that was all. Will protected his armor from being damaged in any way.

"There. Can we go now or do you have more tests for me? Because you know I figure this whole ordeal has been as in itself," said Castiel coldly.

"Try the barrier," Dante suggested.

And so Castiel did. He walked past Dante then stepped forward with confidence towards the invisible barrier. Surprise touched his face when he realized it was still in place. Again, Castiel seemed repelled by it. It wasn't going to let him through. Again. He didn't understand.

"Why isn't it letting me through?" Castiel asked, frustrated. He raised a fist to pound it. Maybe it needed to be weakened.

"Oh that's unfortunate," Dante's voice drawled behind him. Castiel turned his head but the Fallen was gone on that side. He looked on the other side but Dante wasn't there either. He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound died in his throat.

Dante was much faster than Castiel could have ever imagined. The Fallen was right in front of him, his hand thrust into Castiel's chest where he took a hold of the still beating organ. The pain was excruciating...all consuming.

Dante's hand wrapped around it and he could literally feel the veins tearing from it. Yes. He was going to die. He was going to die and he never even got close to the ninth circle. He'd never see him again.

"What a strong heart, Castiel. You surprise me for a grunt," said Dante mildly. Automatically, Castiel's hands wrapped around Dante's wrists in a feeble attempt to pull his arm away. Dante smiled at him. "There is no entering the next circle without consequence. You were unworthy, until this moment. Your greatest motive is your great weakness. It's tragic in the same way that it's poetic...but it's that which you have to sacrifice to enter the ninth circle of Hell. "

"Dean...," Castiel breathed in one pant. He was saying that name to answer him and for his own benefit. If he was going to die, he wanted to have his name as his last word.

"Your attachment to the King is what restrains you. Keeps you a shining star of celestial light. There can be no light in this realm. It's not allowed. Release, Castiel...and be free of your burden. Your love...Your compassion. This is what you must give. Release. Even the memories you can't remember."

The blackness consumed, ending all that Castiel could realize. His own scream of pain, agonizing and full of torment filled the sky.

Rose Manor, One Year Before Attack on Manhattan

Everyone at this party looked in their words "splendid". Different color dresses, but it was interesting to note that the men looked mostly the same. White suits. White ballroom masks. Even Castiel didn't stand out...That much.

He wasn't socializing. Even with an alias. No one really cared much that Solomon Hock was present. The small talk occurred all around him. Everyone here seemed to know eachother. Which might have been suspicious for Castiel after remaining idle for too long.

But that was when he walked in.

And he stood out.

He wasn't wearing white like the rest of them. Something about the way he stood screamed that he didn't care for rules and regulations. He was wearing head to toe black and the mask on his face was different from everyone else's. In fact, it looked much like the greeter's black mask on the outside of the manor, covering only his eyes.

But this man was different. There was something...wrong about him. It was that smile he displayed so easily as someone approached him. He was dressed too casually to be here...he didn't belong.

Castiel was told there might be suspicious activity and to be wary of it. The demons were aware of this situation too. He had to do something. If he wasn't careful, the demon could kill everyone here and not even blink. He had to get to him before anyone else noticed.

Castiel had barely taken a step when the man's gaze sliced into his. Green meeting blue for the first time. Such a bright shade of green, even from this distance, it looked unnatural. But those eyes were intense and hard, looking upon Castiel with promise. There was no doubt that in that moment that this man was more than he appeared. He couldn't be a man..yet no magical enhancement could hide a demon's true face...and he looked so...human.

The way he stared at Castiel was strange. A smile appeared, then he closed one eye in a wink.

Castiel blinked, being the first to look away, but then to Castiel's surprise, someone else approached the new guest. Superior hearing was his best friend.

"You're late," It was one of the drink servers, looked like someone who worked there. They too, stood out, only because they had donned servant's garb. A young black male youth of about twenty or twenty-one. He singled out the newcomer, pressed into his hand a few dollar bills. "Pay's getting cut for you tonight for being late. But I hope you can spicen up the party. Gunn's been waiting for the music to change."

The man replied, his voice barely above a whisper. But something about it sent a thrill through Castiel. "Oh...I'll put on a great show...Don't you worry."

He was a musician.

Castiel cursed himself for the assumption...It was just a musician. Did they usually dress as such? He turned his attention away, fiddling with something on the long table instead, keeping his attention otherwise occupied. Who cared about the musician? When was Gunn showing up? When was he going to place the Scripture on display? That was the whole purpose of this gathering, wasn't it?

And yet even as Castiel wondered these things, out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but notice the stranger's gaze never left him. Stayed on him even as he moved towards a little unused stage area where several instrument stands were.

The stranger got on stage, and without even saying a word yet into the microphone, he called the attention of the entire room.

He didn't touch an instrument. He didn't even have one for himself.

His foot tapped on the floor, loud enough to produce a beat in the quiet room. He raised a finger and snapped once. Immediately a beat began to play. And not exactly one you would take a partner and swing around a ballroom with.

He swung the microphone pole around in one fluid motion, taking it from the top, his eyes closed for the briefest moment before he began to sing.

I hold on so nervously
to me and my drink.
I wish it was cooling me.
But so far, has not been good
It's been shitty.
And I feel awkward, as I should.

This club has got to be
the most pretentious thing.
Since I thought, 'you and me'.
Well I am imagining
A dark lit place..
or your place or my place!

Castiel barely moved through the crowd, going forward despite himself, when the Stranger's eyes snapped open, locking right onto him. His movement across the stage was...animated to say the least. He slid, he gestured with all the knowledge of a skilled artist.

Well I'm not paralyzed,
But I seem to be struck by you.
I want to make you move.
Because you're standing still!
If your body matches
what your eyes can do..
You'll probably move right through
me on my way to you.

Tantalizing...Hypnotic. Castiel couldn't look away from him. It couldn't be that this stranger was looking right at him. It couldn't be that he was singing to him. But each blink, each spin and dance was angled towards the angel. His voice was low and rough and husky. He didn't need the beat music in the background with how he directed the song.

I hold out for one more drink.
Before I think...
I'm looking too desperately.
But so far has not been fun.
I should just stay home
if one thing really means one.
This club will hopefully..
be closed in three weeks.
That would be cool with me.
Well I'm still imagining..
A dark lit place
Or your place or my place!

The stranger jumped off the stage in that moment. Castiel couldn't even really focus on the other guests, watching just as he was as though in a trance, swaying just in time with the beat of the music. Like a concert...Like he was the honored guest.

What was Castiel here for again?

The crowd parted as the stranger approached...closer and closer. Castiel couldn't keep his eyes off him until he slid through the pathway towards him on his knees.

"Well, I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you," He stood. He was close, much closer now, never taking his eyes off Castiel as he sang into the microphone. "I wanna make you move. Because you're standin' still. If your body matches what your eyes can do...You'll probably move right through me on my way to you."

The music stopped. The guests began to clap and cheer. Certainly the spice they were waiting for. Yet Castiel had eyes for only one. The stranger bit his lower lip, smiling in a way that should have been made illegal in human laws.

"We should kiss now," The stranger said, speaking in his normal voice.

"What?"

"It's what they're waiting for,"

"I'm-"

But he broke off. He never got to finish. The stranger pulled him in a tight embrace that was impossible to break, crushing his lips against Castiel's. He felt the the fiery heat of his breath, of his entire body as their chests flushed. So much heat that he felt overwhelmed...overpowered by it. Castiel opened his mouth in a gasp before a very warm tongue slipped inside with experience. Castiel couldn't think to react, but his lips were moving on their own, in strange, unfamiliar ways against his.

Sense came to him almost too late. He could hear the watching people clap again and he pushed the stranger with all his might, both hands on his chests. That kind of grip the stranger displayed wasn't normal...and only someone like him could break such a thing. The heat...the kiss, the strength.

"You're a demon," said Castiel in a hiss, just as another song began to play, much slower this time, drowning out any chance for someone else to hear them.

"You say that like it's a bad word," The demon replied.

"It is a bad word," said Castiel through his teeth. "What are you doing here?"

The stranger wrapped his arms around Castiel, pulled him close, clasping their hands together, fingers interlocked. He drew close so Castiel couldn't see his face. His whisper tickled Castiel's ear. "The same reason you are, angel."

He tried to push him again, but now the grip was much stronger than before.

"Easy, easy," said the demon in an infuriatingly calm town, not quite like his song, but with a fraction of that effect it produced. Hypnotic..." Don't make a scene. You've drawn enough attention to yourself."

"Me?" Castiel growled incredulously. "You're the one who just got on stage...and...and..."

"Did you like that song? I sang that for you," The demon sighed, and Castiel felt himself stiffen at the heated contact of his breath tickling bare skin.

"I don't care what you did it for," Castiel snapped defiantly.

"Play your part, angel. Dominic is not going to be happy if he finds all his guests dead because of your little holy powers," said the demon reprovingly.

" 'My part'? What part do I have in this? If you're here for the Scripture...then you're doomed to fail. I'm not leaving this place without it," said Castiel.

"Then you'll be very sorry to hear that I plan to gift this manor to my sister when I'm done here. At the moment, she has no plans to take extra tenants," said the demon, drawing back. He was taller than Castiel...and though Castiel had no real control of that, he hated having to look up to look at him fully. This demon was powerful...Imperial, obviously. But he had power he was restraining, barely held in check.

The demon released him then and Castiel was relieved to find his bloodflow return to normal. He was smiling again...When did he not smile?

"Don't be so pessimistic, angel. Just play wait and see with me...The show's about to start," He slipped away from Castiel, raising his hand to brush his fingers against the back of Castiel's exposed neck. Castiel followed him with this eyes, watching as he blended in to the darkness as though he were made of shadows. The room had darkened for Dean's performance and he was taking full advantage of that.

He intended to keep his eye on the demon but that didn't last very long. Just then the stairs seemed to light up with the same spotlight that was shining on the demon before while he was on stage. Castiel turned, despite himself, expecting the worst. Where was the demon now? He couldn't find him. He didn't see him in the direction he had walked in. How could he be so foolish? His enemy was in the room and he let him out of his sight..

But it was Dominic who took the stage now. Dominic was a tall man wearing a white suit like everyone else in the room. His build was strong and wide. A military man, after all. He had a buzz cut and black hair with a pencil-thin moustache. The expression on his face suggested he had smelled something unpleasant.

He smiled when he surveyed the room, spreading his arms wide and looking at them all as though they were all his dear friends...What a lie, when all of them were here like Solomon was meant to be...trying to get greedy hands on his big find.

"Welcome. Everyone." Dominic spoke in a booming voice, edged with a thick British accent. That made no sense. He was American born and raised. Maybe that made him sound more posh like his new friends? " It's my honor to welcome you to my humble manor. Here...I hope to share with you many of my finds over the years. I was a military man as many of you know. But I left the army shortly after a misunderstanding..."

Or after he killed a few kids in cold blood. But whatever helped him sleep at night.

"I bring to you my ultimate find," said Dominic. "Behold. The Scripture of the Messiah..."

He stepped aside just as two women dressed in sparkly golden dresses came out smiling, carrying out a square display case with a red coating inside holding something a white piece of paper.

Castiel didn't know what he was expecting. But there it was. What he came here for. He began to advance, before a hand caught his shoulder.

"Don't be stupid. That's not the Scripture," The demon growled in a low voice. "You honestly think it'd be that easy? Knock him aside and grab it? You actually think he'd leave the real Scripture on a platter for you? Think carefully, angel...He knows we're here. We have to work together if we're going to find it."

The way he said 'we' irritated Castiel. He wrenched from the demon's grasp. "There is no working together. There is no 'we'. There is me and there is you. You're just very lucky I'm not killing you."

"Oh, because you're still trying to deny it?" The demon asked, amusement touching his voice.

"Trying to deny what?"

"That you're hopelessly attracted to me?" The demon replied as though stating the obvious. Before Castiel could answer, he cut him off. "That's not the real Scripture...You can sense it can't you? The Scripture would be giving off waves of power...There's no doubt. It's made of Will itself. And it...should. Be reacting to either of our presence from miles away...that scrap is not. There's no way this dolt figured out how to mask what he can't even understand. That's not it."

He was right. Gunn had no exceptional Will...and there was no exceptional Will power coming off whatever...paper he was displaying. Maybe Dominic truly was expecting something like them? Was that going to stop Castiel? No.

"You want to get that extra piece of printing paper...be my guest..I'll be upstairs."

"You'll be what-?" But as Castiel turned to look at him, he was already gone, slowly walking towards the edge of the stairs where he began to align himself against the wall. It was a bold move, his path was taking him directly behind where Dominic Gunn was continuing to deliver his speech.

He was going to go in everyone's line of sight. So much for keeping a low profile. He was going to be shot down. Dominic could handle himself but that didn't mean he wasn't heavily guarded and expecting some normal thievery of his other possessions. A few shots in the head and heart would probably kill the demon...or at least incapacitate him.

Well, if he wanted to off himself. Let him do it. No point in saving a lost cause.

But as Castiel watched, just as the demon crept up the stairs, he began to change...his whole body was engulfed in black smoke, starting at his midriff and traveling to both ends. His gaze flashed to Castiel, a grin on his face before he disappeared altogether.

Castiel's jaw dropped. No demon could move that fast...and spells that included travelling instantly from point a to point b were unheard of...a powerful demon indeed to utilize Will like that...That was magic in its darkest form.

Castiel had to follow him. He could move at the speed of light and no one here would be the wiser of his absence. At most, they might feel a shift in sudden wind and his disappearance. It was truly lucky for him that no one but the demon had talked to him tonight. The guests were enraptured by Gunn's stupid speech, elevating himself and his glorious find.

Keeping a low profile was part of his mission but with a demon present, it complicated things. The main objective was the Scripture. Nothing else. Making sure people didn't know what he was, was secondary. Drawing all the Will to him, he could muster, Castiel seemingly vanished as well, becoming a brief blur that (hopefully) no one else saw. He followed the stench of power that came from the demon.

It was dark upstairs. That didn't make sense. If the real Scripture was here, then wouldn't it be guarded? His feeling of unease increased...The sense that this was possibly-probably-a trap became evident. He had found himself in an empty hallway with no lights on, carpeted flooring leading to several rooms. Each one could contain the demon. He may have been able to sense him, but he could not pinpoint him directly. All he knew was that he was on this floor.

He didn't know why he was doing this. The demon was...strange. Beautiful in his own way. The compelling need to follow...to believe him.. was something Castiel couldn't understand...

No. Mission first.

He had to ignore what the demon had said...the effect he had on Castiel. On his mind...on his body.

Cautiously, Castiel began to walk, stretching out with every sense he could for the demon...and not only that but for any power vibrations coming from the Scripture itself. If the demon was being truthful...then it was here as well. The tactical move would be to simply work with the demon to find the Scripture. The real one. And then kill him. Yes, that sounded better...He'd do that. But he couldn't sense anything like that either. He pulled off his ballroom mask, delighted he could see fully once more.

Each room Castiel opened to look into was empty. Just guest bedrooms with nothing inside them but unused beds...Gunn lived alone, didn't he? What was with these rooms? Did his servants sleep on the same floor as he? No, surely they were employed hourly and went offsite when their shift completed. The second to last door to the master bedroom at the end of the hallway stopped Castiel.

It was a child's room. Wall to wall toys for children of all ages. But just by the nature of these items, toy cars and bright blue, green and red colors...this was meant to be a boy's room. But who was the boy? Extensive research into Gunn revealed he had no children...So this was his room when he was a child? Why had it not changed? Did the boy not grow up and have older interests? Did he truly leave his childhood room in tact...for what? Sentimental purposes?

He could wonder more about that when the mission was over. The master bedroom was last. He felt something ominous sense approaching it. His hand extended automatically for the doorknob...surely the demon was in this side of the house where Gunn had slept.

Castiel swallowed his fear. Now or never. He could call his weapon, his armor in a blink if he needed to. What had he to fear?

He opened the door.

The room was large to say the least. Even in the darkness, Castiel could see everything. On the left side there was a large desk with several bookshelves behind it, a globe and various other objects that looked like antiques or objects that had not been examined for a long time. A step down from that, directly in the middle of the room was a huge Victorian bed, and even then the room did not end. On the right there were several gorgeous paintings of angels and demons in warfare and a statue in the corner of a weeping angel with his fingers curled.

Lucifer. This statue was a common artistic piece.

The demon didn't even look up when he heard Castiel walk in but he was sure he knew Castiel was there. He was standing in front of the painting in the furthest corner. There also was a painting of Lucifer, eyes slightly amused as he looked straight ahead. Castiel couldn't seem much but his face since the demon was covering most of that part.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked.

Even from near the door, Castiel could see his words incited a smile in the demon. He hadn't removed his mask. Yet he turned to the side and raised a finger to his lips, silently requesting quiet. Castiel opened his mouth to speak but the demon moved, reaching over to pluck a goblet off a nearby shelf and place it in the statue's hand. The statue moved, the hand lowering just a few inches and the statue spinning around and then receding into the wall until it revealed a small dark passageway behind it.

"What did I tell you?" The demon smirked. "Come on, angel. I promise you a night to remember. That is, of course, if you have a better way to bide the time a little longer." His gaze traveled slowly, deliberately towards the bed.

"I'll take my chances with the passageway, demon," said Castiel. "Something is not right here."

"Glad to see you're catching on. Let's go."

To Be Continued.