The Angels from Hell

Lilea

The deafening sounds of the party rattled the very foundations of Lilea's apartment. She stood in front of a mirror in a backless dress, her white curly hair wound up into a bun tied with a ribbon the same colour as her dress, a dark, blood red. Formal but not too formal, elegant, refined. There would be many important demons at a party like this, demons with power. Lilea twisted her head around to examine her back in the mirror's reflection. Two scars stuck out from her pale skin running down from the bottom of her neck to her waist. They seemed to glow a pale pink. After all this time they appeared almost as raw as the day she had acquired them. Sometimes, Lilea thought she still felt them, a dull painful weight.

Lilea hurried to her wardrobe and grabbed out a black jacket. When she swung it over her shoulders, all signs of scaring was covered.

The party was in full swing. Hundreds of demons were clustered around the outdoor pavilion that stretched like a second sky across the crowds. Not that there was much of a first sky here when everything was stuck in a permanent night. There were no trees, no blazing white pillars, no fields of yellow flowers just distant sounds of anguish and music that was always too loud.

Lilea scanned the area. She stayed along the outside of the crowd, studying the faces and trying not to cover her ears. There was a large group of people clustered around a bowl of some pale red liquid that could have comfortably fit an entire demon inside of it. If she strained her eyes she could just about see a glimmer of scarlet light at the bottom of the transparent bowl. One demon was handing out shot glass sized cups to all those around him. As Lilea watched, he began to argue with another demon who was staggering slightly, his shirt all the way unbuttoned.

"One cup per person. Now move along." The demon in charge was saying, much to the annoyance of the barely clothed man. A spotlight spun around and the light momentarily blinded Lilea. She thrust her hands over her eyes as the music grew even louder and she felt the sweaty bodies of awkwardly dancing demons push up against her.

She scanned the crowd but couldn't see anyone important. There was that manager, Kell but he was already surrounded by an excited crowd. She could try and struggle through them, but he was only a manager, no higher ranking than she was. She should wait for someone better but the longer she stood here the more intoxicated everyone was. Chances were if they weren't here now, they wouldn't be coming, at least not sober. Disappointed, Lilea turned to leave. She would have to try again tomorrow.

Out of nowhere, a body shoved her roughly to the side nearly causing her to topple onto the rough rock beneath her. She caught a glimpse of a woman with short black hair and a worried expression before she had disappeared into the crowd. Without knowing quite why she was doing this, Lilea followed the wake of destruction the anxious girl left in her path, forgetting for a moment that she didn't want to be here.

The girl flitted between people with such speed that Lilea had to run, slipping slightly in her conservative heels.

"Marla, Marla!" the girl was saying. She looked like she had been wearing the same clothes for several years, a crinkled purple button up with half the bottoms done wrong and jeans with a coffee stain on one of the front pockets. Lilea eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"I need all the footage of a human called John Castillo," the girl sounded breathless. She pulled at a strand of hair that fell around her ears talking to another demon who was wearing a white blouse and downtrodden expression. "Jerim gave me the middle years, but I need the early stuff."

There was a roar from the crowd as a new song started to blare through massive speakers and Lilea missed what the two women were saying. She stepped forwards, trying to remain out of their line of sight. She caught the words, "all available footage" and something about a human man. The constant knot in Lilea's stomach tightened. What was she doing? These demons were not important, she could tell just by looking at them. She couldn't afford to waste time eavesdropping. Yet, she stayed where she was, fully aware of the paperwork in her apartment and the uncomfortable proximity of her body against others.

Distracted by the blaring music and crushing crowds, the strange girl thrust her to the side for the second time that night. This time she was unable to keep her footing and fell to the ground hard, scraping her elbows and the palms of her hands. With as much dignity as she could muster, Lilea crawled to her feet. The other girl looked down at her, her black skin lit up by a blue tinted spotlight, her eyes dancing with slight amusement.

Anger bubbled inside Lilea. Who did this obnoxious, inferior ranked demon think she was? The girl stepped forward as if to say something but must have noticed the indignation in Lilea's face and decided against it. She rushed off followed by the other girl Marla. The crowd shifted and they were gone.

Lilea had the unexplainable desire to keep following them but resisted. She couldn't afford to be distracted. She should just go home, re-energise and try again tomorrow and the next day and the next day.

On the way home she found her feet drifting down a familiar street, completely empty except for the distant sounds of the party. It wasn't like there was a moon down here, but something told her it was almost midnight; she would need to wake up early for work tomorrow. Sleeping in was not an option, not when there was a possible promotion opportunity coming up in the next hundred years.

Consumed by her thoughts, Lilea's feet kept walking down the street lit by a few streetlamps. The quality of houses lowered the further she walked, large obsidian brick apartments like hers being replaced by a few industrial looking buildings, all square with no windows. In the distance there was a glow of red light, flickering in the darkness. A new sound had replaced the party, the desperate sounds of human anguish. Screams tore through the night. She crashed straight into a corrugated iron fence that had appeared as if out of nowhere in front of her and she let out a cry that was quickly swallowed amongst those of human men and woman.

The fence line extended in both direction as far as she could see, which admittedly wasn't that far. She suspected it rose all the way to the roof of hell itself. Peering through the bars, she saw fields of dead grass bathed in a faint red light. There was something shimmering in the field, lots of somethings. They were roughly humanoid, pacing around and wherever their feet touched the grass, it curled into itself, trying to get away. No one here was screaming but she could still hear those horrible sounds beyond the shadows.

A tear evaporated instantly from her cheek; she was not looking at the spirits. She had turned her back to them. These once people did not deserve any tears. As head of torture organisation she knew the best punishments fit the crime, karmic justice served in death if not in life. They deserved to be punished and no matter which side of the fence she now stood on, she was hardly better than they were. She pulled herself away from them, she would not stay here, she had to get out.