Sinful

Welcome to Hell; I'll be Your Tour Guide Today

A/N: If someone talented would like to make a cover for Sinful, I'll love you forever!

~Audrey

"Father, is that necessary?" Holy. Shit. I had spoken out against my father. He was going to rip me limb from limb. Honestly, I'm not really sure why I acted out to save that Angel. Perhaps it was a moment of weakness. Maybe I lost my sanity. Either way, I had spoken out to save an Angel. Our enemy. I was as good as dead.

Without lifting his foot, my father turned his head to look at me. His eyes narrowed, and I was surprised he didn't start spitting fire. He was that mad.

"This man is an Angel. He deserves the worst of punishments. The most horrifyingly painful of tortures. And I will take away his pride and his will to live by cutting off his precious wings. I will mount them on my wall for all to see. And this scum can see them hanging there and re-live this moment forever."

With that, my father turned away from me and set up the dagger. I sat ramrod straight, not daring to move a muscle. He brought it down on the Angel, digging into his back. He didn't just cut off the wings, he did it slowly and painfully. He sliced away at his skin, slowly peeling the wings from his flesh. His movements were small but precise. Each cut tore deeper into his back. And with each cut came a fresh wave of blood. But Angel blood was not ordinary. It was gold and seemed to sparkle. And the floor was slick with the golden substance.

The man did not cry out. He didn't even shed a tear. His face was stoic, his eyes bright with determination. He didn't fight against my father, he just fought through the the pain.

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure the whole room could hear it. I had to grip the arms of the throne to keep myself from jumping up. I tasted blood in my mouth, but it was the least of my concerns. I had to save him. The urge was dominant in my mind. But there was still a small, sane part of me that was screaming not to do it. What had I been thinking? He was an Angel. Maybe Angels had some sort of compulsion that made you do their bidding. I was sure that was the case, because I had never wanted to do somethings so stupid in my entire life.

Finally, my father finished the cutting. With a horrible tearing sound, the wings were ripped away. What remained of the man's back was sickening. Deep gashes criss-crossing his broad back leaked his precious gold blood.

Triumphant, my father stood with his new trophy in blood covered hands. The once beautiful wings were covered in blood, but to my father, the blood probably enhanced them. I glanced at Icas and Vexx, they were grinning from ear to ear. Bastards. Wait, what was I thinking? What did I care what happened to the Angel? But against all odds, somehow, I did care. And that went against everything I had ever known. Angels were not to be trusted, they were the enemy.

"Congrats, boys. You've earned yourselves some time off to do as you please. You've done well; I'll send some women to your rooms." My father looked almost proud. His lips were slightly turned upward, as if a smile were trying to escape his lips. I had never seen him smile. Even though his lips couldn't pass for a real smile, it was the closest I had ever seen to anything that wasn't a frown.

Vexx and Icas smiled devilishly at each other and shared a knowing look.

The Angel was still crumpled on the floor, his breathing labored. Even though he was obviously suffering, he didn't shed a single tear. It was apparent the Angel had endured rigorous training in order to keep his face and body void of any and all emotion.

"Take him out of here, Belladonna. I trust you will train him well." With that, my father exited the room, the wings clutched tightly in his hand.

I slowly stood up, attempting to drag air through my lungs without seeming like I was out of breath. I couldn't let the others see my moment of weakness. Just because Satan was my father didn't mean that other Demons weren't hoping for the chance to tear my throat out. If I dared show that I wasn't holding it together, I would be physically assaulted in an attempt to claim my throne. 

Taking a deep breath, I slowly made my way up to the lifeless Angel body. He lay on his stomach, his arms and legs sprawled out around him. His face was planted firmly against the floor so I couldn't see his expression.

I carefully reached for his arm, but didn't want to come across as gentle towards an Angel. Instead, I roughly yanked his arm and turned it over, feeling for a pulse. There was a steady beat. He was alive, for the moment anyways.

I motioned to Icas and Vexx with a jerk of my head. Eyeing me warily, they came over.

"Sit him up." Obeying my command, they pulled the Angel to his knees. His head lolled in front of him. I raised my hand a good foot away from his face and slapped, hard. Instantaneously, his head jolted up to meet my gaze. His azure eyes held my gaze with an intensity I hadn't expected. What had I expected? That he'd be broken? Just like all the others? No one ever stood up to my father. And if they did, they never lived. This Angel was the only man to ever survive going against my father. He must have been brave. But still, the look in his eyes didn't show any memory of the pain had had recently endured.

Those blue, blue eyes held a burning hatred. A hatred for my father. For me. They were a blazing torch in the darkness of Hell. Astounded, I took a step away from him.

"Welcome to Hell, I'll be your tour guide today. Vexx, Icas." I acknowledged the guards then spun on my heel. From behind me I heard a growl. I pretended not to hear it and continued on. What did I care if the Angel didn't like me? He was my enemy. He wasn't supposed to like me.

Purpose in my stride, I led the trio down the hallway where I had scolded the servant earlier and into the training room.

The back wall was lined with various deadly weapons. Swords, knives, daggers. If you could name it, we had it. My father liked to collect the weapons of the recently dead. It was a hobby of his.

"Here you will learn what you need to know to survive in Hell. And yours truly will be your instructor. You should be thankful, not everyone is privileged enough to learn from the great master." The Angel snorted. I picked up a knife as long as my forearm, and brought it over to the Angel. I placed it right against his throat, the blade so close a thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. But he never flinched. He just looked at me with those blue eyes of his.

"I see you've already mastered the first lesson. Never show fear." Satisfied with his response, I threw the knife backwards at the wall. I heard a clank and knew it was right back where it should be in it's proper place on the wall. If the Angel was impressed with my knife throwing skills he didn't show it.

"And now, I'll show you to your room." I exited the room, assuming that the others would follow. Many twists and turns later, I opened a large wooden door. Inside was a concrete floor with shackles attached to the wall. Nothing more.

Lifting the Angel by his arms, the guards threw him into the cell. The Angel landed on his stomach, hands bracing his fall. He turned his head to glare at the guards. They just snickered and shackled him.

Once the guards were finished I dismissed them as I entered the cell. With the Angel. Alone. I shouldn't have been so nervous. I was the top dog around here. There shouldn't have been a reason for me to worry about the puny Angel shackled to the wall. But my heart was racing.

I walked right up in front of him so he could clearly see me. I grasped his chin tightly to prevent him from tearing his gaze from mine. "If you behave, then perhaps I will see to it that you receive better rooming accommodations." I sneered at his emotionless face before releasing him from my hold.

I turned to leave the room; as I shut the door I swore I heard the Angel say, "we'll see about that."