Summary: This is a scrapped scene in the same universe as my other story 'Hell's Coming For Me' in which Jentry is a fallen angel - an angel that rebelled against God and was casted out of Heaven - that I published before the show came out.
The pictures of Fallen Angel Jentry were commissioned from shaukatali508 and jenthegaylord, respectively. Delete the spaces.
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The apartment in Beijing was quiet, save for the faint sound of Ed shuffling cards on the table. He sat, playing a solo game ofshíshùnshuǐ- a chinese variety of solitaire card game.
The door slammed shut with a thunderousbang, rattling the already creaky apartment. Jentry stomped in, black eyes glinting like obsidian, her horns barely hidden beneath her windswept hair. Her human disguise was cracking under the weight of her frustration.
"Okay," Ed said dryly, his fangs flashing as he smirked. "What went wrong on this outing?"
Jentry let out a long, aggravated groan. "Ugh, I was going to see thatForbidden Cityhumans keep talking about. You know,forbidden,so obviously, I wanted to know why!"
Ed raised an eyebrow, still not looking at her. "And?"
"And," she snapped, throwing her arms up, "some guards posted at the entrance stopped me. They demanded to see a ticket - whatever that is - so I tried to hypnotize them, but they didn't fall for it." She threw herself face-first onto the couch with a muffled growl. "Then they threatened to call the police, so I punched their lights out and ran away."
Ed finally glanced up, unimpressed. "So you committed assault in broad daylight. Nice."
She sat up, glaring at him. "Theythreatenedme!"
Ed chuckled, casually flipping over another card. "Finally starting to act like a human, I see. Shame that human disguise kind of hampers your powers over mortals, though." no sympathy, at all.
Jentry dropped back onto the couch, muttering under her breath. "I thought coming to Earth would free me from Hell, yet all this secrecy and rules feel like another set of shackles."
Ed put the cards down and placed a hand over his long-dead heart, dramatically. "How poetically tragic! I amawestruck."
"Tone it down!" she snapped. "I can't even fly as I please unless I want to risk being seen. I mean, since when do humans have eyes in the sky?!"
Ed shrugged. "Since some brothers built a flying contraption or whatever. A few decades ago. Pretty sure it was all over the papers."
Jentry rolled her eyes. "Aren't you just helpful!"
"That's not in the contract," Ed retorted.
She shot him a glare sharp enough to scare off mortal beings. "Our contract stipulates that you are to be my guide on Earth and help me blend in. In exchange, I protect you from your old boss - Cheng of whatever his name is - and his cronies."
"Indeed it does," Ed replied smoothly, picking up his cards again. "Or so you'd like me to believe."
Jentry groaned. "This again? For the last time, those are theonlyterms in our deal. I don't want your soul. Why would I?"
Ed tapped his chin mock-thoughtfully. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe because you're ademon."
"I'm anangel," she said, her voice tight with restrained fury.
"Fallenangel," he corrected, wagging his finger. "Which, in case you missed the memo, makes you a demon. After all, youarea denizen of Hell."
Jentry's four mismatched wings nearly sprouted out on impulse, but she clamped them down at the last moment. "To reiterate," she said through gritted teeth, "I fled Hell. For turns out life on Earth feels almost as bad."
Ed tilted his head in agreement. "No argument in there. Living among humans has a lot of rules. Like, me, some earthborn demons tried, like yours truly."
"Hadn't noticed." she said sarcastically and dropped herself back on the couch, seemingly done with the argument.
Ed did give her a somewhat sympathetic look. Muttering something in Mandarim under his breath, the undead ditched his game and moved to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he would come over with a plate of steamingjiānbǐng(Chinese crepes) and set them on table by the sofa. Then, without a word, returned to his cards. Jentry's quizzical look travelled from thejiangshito the plate of offered goods, but once the smell invaded his nostrils all her focus was on the plate. She grabbed a crepe with her bare hands and began tearing into it like a starved dog.
Her shoulders slumped as the flavors hit her tongue, her earlier frustrations melting away into delight. "Okay,thisI can't complain about. Food - any food, really - there's nothing like this in Hell. It makes me feel so warm and full. Satisfied, even."
Ed leaned back, watching her with amusement. "You're welcome. Before I died, I was quite the cook, myself. But seriously, don't you have actual food in Hell?"
Jentry had to swallow her mouthful before replying. "As divine beings, we don't need to eat. Even now I don't have to, but it feels soooo gooood!" and she sighed in pleasure.
Ed made a face. "Is Hell really that bad?"
Jentry paused mid-bite, her expression darkening. "You don't want to know."
The inquiry ended there. For one of those rare times, Ed was thankful he had been cursed upon death into becoming what he is nowadays. With the life he had led, he was certain Hell would have been his end of the road upon an ordinary demise.
After finishing the food, Jentry wandered onto the balcony. The sky was painted with orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. Flying during the day was out of the question, and even at night, the risk of being seen was far too high. No matter how tempting it was.
With a sigh, she pulled out her hell-phone - a sleek, black cell phone-like device, except it glowed red with runes of a language unknown to Man - to distract herself. Notifications for 7 new voicemails blinked on the screen. She groaned, fearing this would come; from the moment she abandoned Hell that others would immediately notice her post was vacated.
"Well," she muttered, mentally buckling up, "might as well end this crappy day like this."
She hit play and the first voicemail was from Mephisto, the Pride-Minister of Hell and close advisor to King Lucifer. A smooth, polished voice oozed from the speaker:
«Ah, Jentry! My dear sister, I've been informed that you've opted to take an extended vacation in the living realm. A fantastic idea, truly. Do send me a postcard, won't you? Perhaps one with a picture of your quaint little human residence. Now, while we're on the subject, about the open Gates you left open. Do correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that supposed to be your responsibility? To guard the Gates and lead sinner souls to our domain, hm? Anyway, no rush! Just give me a call when you're ready to return. Take all the time you need. We'll wait.»
Jentry scowled at the phone. "Yeah, 'take your time' my butt." she muttered and moved on to the next message. She almost whined seeing it was from Satan himself, the Minister of Wrath. "This will either be extremely stupid or supremely terrifying. There was no middle ground with this guy."
The moment the message started, her eardrums were assaulted by a shrieking, gravelly voice, like nails on a chalkboard.
«JENTRY, YOU BITCH! You better get your sorry ass back here before I shove every single one of those damned souls down your throat until you're shitting them out one by one, you lazy…»
Wincing, she cut it off before the embodiment of rage could go on a long tirade of insults. "Oh, that's nice. Real mature, Big S." she said dryly, hit next and was almost amused by who it was: Azazel, the nervous-wreck that was Mephisto's employee. True to form, a jittery voice came on.
«Hey-uh, Jentry! How's it going? Uh, so listen, um... I hope you're doing great up there. I'm uh… doing okay. But, quick thing: they put me on your gatekeeper job. Temporarily! I mean, thank Lucifer for that, right? Haha…Yeah so, any idea when you're coming back? No rush or anything! It's just, uh… this whole soul-fishing gig is, uh… kind of a nightmare. So if you could just… I dunno… call back? Maybe? Please?»
Jentry snorted. "Azazel. Sweet, spineless Azazel. They really putyouon my job? That's just cruel." she tapped the next message. It was Mephisto again, still smooth but with a tone of not well hidden exasperation.
«Ah, Jentry. Mephisto here. Again. I went ahead and put Azazel on the job - though, let's be honest, he's utterly useless. But what choice do I have? Between you and me, I wouldn't trust him to walk my hellhound. Now, all joking aside, we do need you back. Things are getting a little chaotic, what with all those damned souls unable to enter Hell and Azazel can't guide them right. As much as I enjoy chaos, this particular flavor of it is becoming distasteful. Soooo, call me.»
Jentry was tempted to indeed call him and give him an unpleasant reply. The next message didn't help, at all; it was Satan, again.
«FUCKING SLACKER! IF I HAVE TO GO UP THERE AND DRAG YOU BACK MYSELF, I…»
At that point, Jentry just sped through the messages.
Azazel:«Hi, uh, Jentry. It's me, again. So, work's been… well,bad. Like, really bad. Turns out 'gatekeeping' is a lot harder than it looks. Also, Mephisto is getting in one of his moods. Any chance you're, like, coming back soon? 'Cause that'd be great…»
Mephisto: «Jentry. For the love of all things unholy, just call me back. Hell needs its gatekeeper back! Set a date, any Luciferdamn date. I'm trying to help you here, but if you keep ignoring me, I can't promise…»
Satan: «…BEND YOU OVER UNTIL YOUR KIDNEYS COME OUTTA YOUR EARS, YOU…»
Azazel: «Hey, Jentry. Me again. Mephisto just yelled at me for, like, three hours straight. And Satan… well, I think he's threatening to eat me. It's hard to tell with all the screaming. Anyway, no big deal. Just… if you could maybe… PLEASE COME BACK. I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!»
Jentry shouted to the skies and deleted all messages, unread or otherwise. Ed approached and leaned against the doorframe behind her.
"Rough calls?" he asked.
"Understatement of the century!" she shouted at him, prompting thejiāngshīto raise his arms. He may be brave enough to poke his 'business partner' a bit, but not when she was in such a bad mood. "Maybe you need a change of scenery would cheer you up. Somewhere quieter with less shouting."
Jentry groaned and walked past him, back inside the apartment. By coincidence, her eyes landed on a discarded item by the table. A postcard, she thought, depicting a wide desert area with no sign of civilization in sight. A wide, wild emptiness. She picked up the postcard, it read 'Texas'. Her lips turned upwards. "Texas, hum?"