Lucifer's Bride

Blood Of An Angel

*~Please Note that I am in no way trying to change up religious beliefs of anyone, I am only writing this by what I think about all of it. Also, this isn't a Supernatural fanfic with Dean and Sam and Cas. I am not just writing this stuff because it was said in the series and I am not trying to copy it.~*

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The line between wrong and right seemed to blur. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He never knew it would happen. The rebellion was meant to happen on Earth, between the Demons and Mortals, not the Demons and their Overlord.

He was forced out of The City, out of Hell. His body was damaged, wrecked by the sudden attack upon him. He ran first into Purgatory. The souls tried to overtake him, so he ran once more. He first, in some crazy, broken thought, tried to seek refuge in Heaven. Upon realizing his mistake, he fled to the Mortal World. He hid in the shadows, watching for a vessel.

At last, he found one he quite liked, or could at least stand. He thought of Mortals as mistakes, creations of his Father's that should not have been shown the light. They had destroyed what was meant to be the God's. They were rodents that should've been demolished.

The vessel he had chosen was a bit above six feet. He had dark, dark brown hair. His eyes were a light blue, which changed to a bright blood red once he had been possessed. His skin grew more pale and his body became sensitive to the light.

He took a moment to become adjusted to his new form. The vessel was cramped. Mortal bodies were only fit for one soul, not two.

He examined his garb. He was wearing what appeared to be some sort of uniform. It consisted of a black dress shirt, a black suit jacket, a blue tie, black dress pants and black Converse. He believe that's what they were called, anyways, as it said it on the inner ankle of the shoe.

He looked around. The tips of his bangs entered the edge of his vision, which bothered him none. He was standing in front of a large building. Mortals were strewn about the green flooring. He hadn't been in the Mortal World in ages, which caused him great difficulty in remember the titles of many things around him.

He felt around his pockets, pulling out a folded piece of leather. Inside were mulitple green papers with pictures of various humans on them, money, if he remembered correctly, and a plastic card that read 'Student I.D.'.

That must mean I am at a school. He thought. How peculiar.

A loud bell sounded and Mortals started entering the large building. He merged into the group seamlessly, hoping to get a chance to scope out the place, and perhaps learn of his vessel. He loitered in the corridor until everyone had dispersed, then, feeling quite weak, tried to find a dark room to rest in.

He wrapped his arm around his stomach and walked through the building, using the wall for support. His shoes echoed in the empty walk way, only stopping when he needed a short break. The Demons had done a hard number on him, no thanks to any of the other Six Princes. Leviathan and Mammon were the first to cast him out, quickly followed by the others. It was only a matter of time before the Demons rebelled with them.

He collapsed in front of a large door. The metal was cool. Perhaps whatever lay beyond it was cold, damp and dark, though he much preferred heat. He gripped the handle tight and brought himself to his feet, looking around to make certain no one was near, and stumbled through the doorway. His shoes clicked on the metal as he descended the staircase, keeping close to the railing.

At last he stood on a cement floor, the soft rumbling of machinery filling the room. He sensed warmth coming from a metal box and collapsed next to it. It was a furnace that, thankfully, was turned on high. He pressed his skin to the metal, quickly folding over and curling up next to it. The pain was awful. He should've waited longer before taking a vessel. It took too much from him, he wouldn't be able to defend himself from anything that might attack him.  

~*~

A few hours went by and the pain came in short waves. The warmth wasn't as powerful as he would've wished, but it was the warmest part in the room.

He deducted that he was in the basement level of the building, and since that was true only workers would be entering the floor, which is why he didn't hide himself when he heard footsteps creep down the stairs.

A light flickered on, and he cringed into a corner between the wall and the furnace.

"Hello?" came a voice. He pulled his suit jacket off and over his head, shielding himself from the painful lights. They hurt his eyes badly, and they didn't add any additional warmth.

The footsteps were directly in front of him, now. He knew that whoever, or whatever, this was, they were looking directly at him. Wondering who he was. Hell, he wondered who he was. He still hadn't discovered what his vessel went by. He thought about leaving the vessel, returning to the shadows until he was able to recover completely.

He flinched as the jacket was pulled off of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, physically unable to open them with the light on his face. The person, as he believed it was, shielded his eyes with it's hand. He looked up blankly, trying to put a face on his discoverer.

It was definitely female. She had dark brown eyes and curly brown hair and freckles crossing her cheeks. She examined him for a long moment.

"What are you doing down here?" she asked curiously. He didn't respond.

"Okay, well, what's your name?"

He swallowed painfully. It took everything he had not to say his true name, and he didn't know his vessel's.

"Okay, fine. Don't tell me. Just, come on."

She sat him up and pulled on his arm to get him to stand. He yanked it away furiously. No Mortal should be allowed to lay their filthy hands on him.

"Do you want me to help you back to your dorm or not?!" she demanded angrily. He glared up at her. She quickly grew impatient and yanked him roughly to his feet. He staggered forward, falling onto her arm.

He quickly composed himself. She stood below his height by a bit less than half a foot, but that didn't stop her from glaring at him with severe annoyance.

"Do not look at me with your filthy eyes." He growled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll just leave you here then." She pushed him away and he fell into the wall, dropping to the floor. "Now are you gonna stop being an egotistical jerk?"

He looked up at her, trying his best to look angry, but the pain was too great. He turned away quickly, failing at masking his pain.

"Alright, come on." She extended her hand to him. He looked at it for a minute, then pulled his sleeve over his hand and placed it in her's. She rolled her eyes and pulled him up. He folded over in pain. She held him up as he struggled.

She led him up the stairs slowly, holding him up when he began to collapse. She took him to the front desk and reached into his pocket, pulling out his Student I.D. and sliding it through a machine.

'STUDENT #761532 LIAM GRAY' appeared in blue lettering.

"Alright. It says you're in dorm number 453."

They walked through many corridors and limped up two stairways before finding the door marked 453. She slid his card into the door and pulled it out when the light turned green. The room was very small. It had two beds, a desk, various storage units, and papers and electrical appliances spread around it.

"Looks like you don't have a roommate, Liam." He pulled away from her and stumbled to the bed, falling on top of it. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He'd never felt more awful. "You should probably get some rest."  

She went over to him and rolled him onto his back. He was already passed out, so she pulled the blanket over him, put his I.D. on the nightstand, and left.

He woke up several times in the middle of the night, almost wanting to yell in pain. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the Demons caught up to him. He only need wait.