Capricorns and Devil Horns

I Fell to Earth

A slightly blunt kitchen knife, a sewing needle, a bottle of whiskey, and dental floss were laid out on a table. Beside it, lay Morgan Sterner. Tainted Love played through the apartment, his faint hum alongside it.

I did as I had with Hannah the day before, dragging the knife along the skin next to his right shoulder blade. Not a hiss, not a drop of blood, just fluttering wings buried within his flesh. They weren't pure white like Hannah's had been- they were a deep midnight blue. I tempted the little butterfly out onto my finger. Instead of landing, it dropped something onto my fingertip- something that looked like a little grain of sand, or perhaps a bit of gravel.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Should be the spell."

"It's a bit of sand..."

"That's the one. Could you be a dear and give me my wings back?"

The butterfly lapped around the room once, before landed right on the tip of my nose.

"He likes you. I can feel what he's doing."

"He?"

"His name is Alfred."

I snorted, before using my other hand to gently grasp its wing and place it back into the incision in his back. Morgan's wound was sewn up with the needle and floss and the "spell" was placed on top of his t-shirt so we didn't lose it.

After a swig of the whiskey, Morgan crouched, took the grain into his palm and one look it, before writing what we needed on the back of his hand.

'Scorpion tail,

Victim heart,

Relative's hair

My blood

Wings'

Then, he darted out his tongue and swallowed the spell, as I watched with wide-eyes.

"Don't worry, My Dear. Alfred'll find it."

With another swig of the whiskey, we made our way back to the living-room, where he explained every component of the spell.

"Something representative of her birth- the Scorpion's tail, as she is a Scorpio."

"How do you know that? I've never told you." I interrupted.

"Yes, well she's brave, ambitious, secretive and let's not forget manipulative. I just figured she was a Scorpio. Am I correct?"

"You are."

"Good. Moving on. The Victim's heart is fairly self-explanatory. The Relative's hair is a way to get DNA but the love of the relative is also supposed to keep the trap strong. In which case, it cannot be my hair, for I do not love her and she does not love me. My blood- blood of a fallen angel. And her wings. To keep her from escaping. In fact, my wings were used in the original spell- Alfred was hand-crafted by me in Hell. So, any ideas on how we're gonna get some of this stuff?"

I completely disregarded his question and asked another of my own.

"Tell me about it down there."

He scratched through his salt and pepper stubble and sighed deeply, causing me to frown.

"If you want..." I added.

"It was so different from Heaven." He began without warning, "Heaven was bright and warm and colourful and nice. And The Only was none of those things. You've been to Hell, Nora. The cold takes your breath away, doesn't it? Knocks it out of you like a punch to the gut. That cold- in Hell- is like a warm beach holiday in comparison to The Only. I know you're asking to make yourself feel better about trapping your friend there. You want me to tell you it's not so bad. But I can't do that, Nora. I promised myself I'd never lie to you again. You have to understand, Sweetheart, while The Only is beyond dreadful, she needs it. It's our only options, but, even if it wasn't, it would still be the best one. Redemption. She's bad, Love. Now, it's just sex and power, but I've seen this happen before. A fallen brother of mine fell in another way. He fell in love with a human and tried to settle down and 22 years later... The country was in ruins. Power becomes an addiction- especially for us angels. Before you know it, you want to be stronger than everyone and everything and the only way to make you feel alive is by consuming souls. Hannah and I have more in common than you think- besides our shared DNA, that is. When I was first cast out of Heaven, I didn't end up in The Only. I fell to Earth while Daddy Dearest had to conjure up a new dimension far more vile. I wreaked havoc amongst Father's precious little humans."

"-I thought you'd fallen before the creation of humans? The snake in the Garden of Eden?" I interrupted.

He gave a flat laugh.

"That's me. The snake. But that book has it all wrong. Adam and Eve. Adam and Steve. Humanity was not created in a day- it didn't start with just two of you and a dodgy string of incest. My father created the Earth and therefore created you. But he did not create you smooth creatures with opposable thumbs. No. He made apes. Apes with funny shaped skulls. I watched you change and evolve into the humans that you are today. Like the painfully tedious watching of an infant growing up. I was here for Man's first word. And, alas, before you had the intellect to record my presence, The Only was complete and I fell further. I did things to assert my power- to feel my power- that I'm not proud of. I was a monster, Nora... But redemption. The Only was my redemption. It's so awful, it scars you in a way a regular prison doesn't. In jail, you're scared to go back so you don't commit the crime again. But you may still want to. But The Only changes you. It makes you fear not just going back, but deserving to go back."

"So you think there's a chance Hannah can be redeemed?" I all but beamed.

"Yes-" another stubble scratch, "-but, you have to understand, it took me thousands of years, Sweetheart."

"Well, I'm dead. I have thousands of years to wait."

Morgan rolled his eyes with a grin.

"Then I'll wait right by your side."

"So you're staying now, huh?"

"Indeed."

"Good." I said, resting my head on his chest, "I don't want you to go back there, Morgan."

"I won't. In fact, I don't know if I even would."

"What do you mean?"

"My Father banished me from Heaven for not loving human beings as much as I loved him. And, it seems, I've found a human that I do love much more than Him."

I grinned and nuzzled myself further into his chest.

"I love you too, Morgan." I whispered.

"Hmm? Oh. I was talking about that Ryan Gosling fella. He's gorgeous isn't he?"

I swatted his knee.

"Oh! Right! Yeah, I suppose you're alright too, Dear."

Later that day, Morgan asked if I wanted anything from the shops.

"Cookie dough ice cream would be nice."

"You got it."

I painted while he was gone. I painted Hell. The bridge. I painted the Devil.

He took an hour and a half to do a twenty minute run to the shops and when I finally heard his key turn in the lock, I went straight to the living-room to find out what had taken him so long. He stood there, no bags in hand and a grin on his face. I looked over him, puzzled, before he opened up his clenched fist to reveal something black in his palm. It moved.

"It's a scorpion."

"Well, I can see that..."

"For the spell."

"Right. Is that all you got at the shops?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, before his eyes shot open.

"Ice cream!"

Then, without another word, he turned for the door and sprinted back down the hall, still clutching his little eight-legged friend.

I laughed to myself and went to the kitchen to get myself a beer. Before I even reached the fridge, there was a knock on the door. I rolled my eyes, wondering what Morgan had forgotten.

Morgan wasn't on the other side of the door. A little lady, no younger than 80, looked up at me through the thick lenses of her glasses.

"Hi?"

"Hello, Dear. Do you remember me? Hannah's Nana."

"Right. Mrs Keating. How are you?"

"Not so good... I haven't heard from my Hannah in weeks... Please tell me you know where she is."

"Um... Would you like to come in?"