Simon Lewis and The Avengers

Annabel Blackthorn

"Welcome home, Magnus." Asmodeus spoke the mundane name sourly, perhaps he would have preferred 'Asmodei number 2045' over Magnus' chosen name.

"Edom is no home of mine." Magnus spat. Looking over, Simon saw that Magnus no longer appeared sick, just annoyed that he was chained to the spot, hands behind back, by what seemed to be red barbed wire. It didn't hurt him, just looked like a dramatic inconvenience. It was the same material that Asmodeus wore as a crown, standing out ominously against his black hair and white skin pulled taut over his skull. He wore a white suit, akin to Asmodeus in Supernatural with fly-shaped cufflinks, not akin to Asmodeus in Supernatural.

"Thank you, Malcolm -" Asmodeus began evilly, then caught sight of The Avengers. "What are the mundanes doing in in my palace?" He asked, green-gold eyes flashing dangerously, identical to how Magnus' used to be.

"They followed after your mundane-loving son." Malcolm sniggered, "They might make good toys or ornaments."

Asmodeus looked like he was considering murdering Malcolm then, but decided against it like it would be too much effort.

"Very well." he sighed, "I did not specify for you to bring me Magnus only, however-"

"And I have delivered!" Malcolm interrupted impatiently. "I have honoured my side of the deal, the mundanes are merely minor attachments and the world's only Daylighter stands before you free of charge. Now, you-"

"I DO NOT ANSWER TO YOU! So do not command me! You will receive payment, hellspawn, or do you doubt my loyalty?" Asmodeus did not walk, but glided in smoke towards Malcolm, towering him powerfully.

"N-no, my lord. I only meant-" Malcolm tried to show some remorse for his previous impoliteness but was boomed over by a voice that shook the walls and came from them, yet was contained within the demonic figure all at once.

"Remember, warlock, on the surface you may be the high warlock of Los Angeles, but in this dimension mortal titles do not apply. Down here, you are a double-crossing traitor, regardless of what side you fight for, you will never gain enough allies to accomplish anything close to power. Not even your soul could produce a fraction of this Asmodei's. And all because love - a concept - rules you. Your service was necessary but poor at that, I hope regret you choice of payment." Asmodeus looked at Malcolm like something unworthy of being killed by his own hands, and a little like he knew that would be his fate. "You realise she had to be taken from heaven and she won't be grateful."

"Yes." Malcolm was desperate now.

"Malcolm," Magnus demanded. "she deserves to rest in peace."

"She deserves to live." Malcolm snapped back, sending punch of magic Magnus' way that hit him square on the jaw but did not unbalance him.

Asmodeus brought a crystal from an inner pocket of his blazer - one alike in size to the many black shards that made up the ground, but golden in colour. It shone like a star disconnected from its circuit but still glowing with heaven's energy through Hell's unnatural smog. Carefully, Asmodeus broke the crystal and like some summoning charm, the spirit of Annabel formed. She faded from a semi-transparent poltergeist into a near-physical embodiment. Just as with a resurrection stone, Annabel had been brought to life and just as with a resurrection stone, she wasn't happy about it. But not in a depressed or confused kind of way; more like in a I'm-a-freaking-daughter-of-an-angel-how-dare-you-wake-me kind of way. She unsheathed her runed blade immediately, eyes finding the only familiar face of all of them.

"Annabel." Malcolm breathed, purple eyes violet with joy. It was a pity she did not return his happiness. She approached Malcolm with interest, curiosity of how to kill him.

"Malcolm." She stepped forward. It was with adoration that he admired her and it was with hatred that she gazed at him. Though Asmodeus was right; Malcolm was blinded by love.

Annabel looked Malcolm straight in the eyes, leaning up to his lips until he could feel her breath on there.

"You should never interrupt a woman's beauty sleep, Fade."

And with that she slid her blade between his ribs and sneered.

This was a short one, I know, but I felt I needed to publish something akin to actual work.