Paradiso

Part IV - Vizio

Red and purple lights outlined the humans where they writhed, intoxicated beyond reason, to blaring, dull music. The air was hot and heavy, filled with the gasps of a hundred one-night stands. Hard-candy highlights were all that distinguished body from body. They grinded against each other like half-dead salmon in their mating grounds. It was a lake of sin and ecstasy; a lake of fire.

Doelle hated it. This, truly, was a place of darkness. Who here was worth saving from whatever disaster was going to happen? Surely, this place, this "club" as humans called it, was not where a guardian angel should be working miracles. Unfortunately, that was, indeed, his team's mission; he'd ordered the other three to sweep the area, remain on the lookout for a potential disaster, and weed out whoever would be worth saving in this light-forsaken place. Doelle had set out to do the same, but couldn't stand to get any closer to the mortals than he already was. He leaned against the edge of the bar, not daring to set a foot closer to the dance floor.

His icy eyes shifted around, trying to catch a glimpse of some good in humanity amongst the crowd. He didn't. He sighed, disgusted with these creatures. He had never abandoned a mission before, but this was testing his tolerance.

Then something caught his eye. Not a hint that anyone here was worthy; quite the opposite, in fact. An omen of misfortune. A sign of sin. Something bad. From the centre of the dance floor, a pair of eyes met his. Though they were a rich, warm, enticing brown—any human would be instantly attracted to them—Doelle saw something more about them; a burning, amber glow. That glow was the mark of a demon. A demon stared back at him across the floor, and in that moment, Doelle knew it was one of the worst kinds; it was a vice. A tempter. An incubus. This thing was here to cause chaos. To cause a disaster. It suddenly clicked in Doelle's mind; his mission must be to send this demon back to Hell before it's retributive mischief endangered the lives of innocent humans. He would excise it from this place.

His disgust for the humans was shoved aside; cold, steely hatred for the demon had replaced it, propelling him into the heart of the crowd. He was going to confront that creature and make it leave. Though his plan was to negotiate with it, if pleasantries could not convince it to leave willingly, then he would force it out. Diplomacy was required to always be used first when dealing with the denizens of Hell—relations between the Afterlives were strained as it was, they didn't need provoking—but god, did it take all of his restraint to keep himself from just flying at it, sword ready. He cooled his rage as he finally struggled his way through the writhing bodies and approached the demon.

It narrowed it's eyes at the sight of him, sizing him up as he drew closer. It knew what it was dealing with; that much was clear. Angels, after all, had a telling glow to their eyes similar to that of demons; there was no chance it thought he was human. But instead of twisting into a scowl, it's lips quirked into a charismatic smirk. "So, did it hurt?"

Doelle's brows creased together in confusion. "What?"

"When you fell from Heaven," it said. "Because you're an angel."

What? Does it think I think I'm deceiving it into believing I'm a mortal? "I didn't fall," he answered, deadpan. "I flew."

The demon couldn't stifle a laugh. Indignance sparked in Doelle. What is it laughing at?! "What brings you over here, then? Tired of sulking in the corner?"

"You, demon," he snapped.

"Oh. You wouldn't be the first." It snickered. Then, to Doelle's surprise, it extended a hand to him. "Well? I'm here, aren't I? Let's dance."

For a moment, he stared at it's hand, perplexed. It knew he was an angel, and yet it was... attempting to seduce him? Indulging it's own ego? Trying to endear itself to him? His pride rose in his chest; he would not be bested by this vice. He would be victorious. He took the demon's hand. "Let's."