The Devil's Opera

Avenger

The Agent stood before God's throne room, trembling. He knew he was in for it. Even though his last transgression had been years ago, protesting about June's exile, the wounds were still fresh in his mind and it was showing in his work ethic. He knew God would call him in to "talk" about it eventually, but having to actually go through with it was harder than expected. Worst of all, though, God had decided that the best way for The Agent to get over June was to practice casting her out himself, but as she was already in Hell, The Agent would be practicing on a look alike.

That was right. God was going to have him beat up some June-look alike in order to get over the real June. What a sick thing to do! But it was God's orders and The Agent had to carry out his instructions to the letter. He had to stay forever faithful to the format... But it still hurt his heart deeply, knowing what God was having him do now. He'd seen this June-clone's files. Her name was Emily and she was, as far as The Agent could tell, guilty only of a minor sin. The punishment The Agent was expected to give to her was far too high, but did he dare tell God that God was going against his own standards in punishment? No. So he would obey. He would hurt this innocent girl to please his master. God always came first.

"Dear Emily, I am so sorry, can you forgive me for this?" The Agent whispered as he reached God's office doors. They swung open, a billowing breeze beckoning him inward. Incense and hymn tunes were carried on that breeze, but the beauty of it was lost on The Agent. All he could smell was decay and all he could hear were dying whispers and desperate murmurs...

"Now, my top angel with the well-used Bible, here's our next conquest, will she live?" God sang out the moment The Agent set foot in the room. He looked around. A circular area had been cleared out entirely. In the center of the circle, sobbing and on her knees, was the angel known as Emily.

She was begging, crying out to The Agent. She had a gag in her mouth, so he didn't know exactly what she was saying, but at the same time, he had a pretty good guess. Then, all around Emily, on the edge of the circle, stood all of The Agent's comrades. He saw God standing at the head of the circle, surrounded by Librarian, Designer, Watchword. But where were the-?

"Doubtful!" two eerily cheery voices echoed from behind The Agent. He turned his head to see the Translators standing at the door, chewing happily away at their gum while grinning like the psychopaths they were. The Agent fought hard not to look at them with all the disgust he felt for them.

"You're the head of God's pets, working his behest!" another voice declared. It was Librarian, standing proud and tall, arms crossed over his large chest. He was looking at The Agent with a gaze that seemed to say, "You are the best of us all! Show us how it is done, for it is both your duty and honor to serve the Lord with ALL of your heart..."
"He'll set you straight, like the Fallen. Ha! You like that?" yet another voice added. It was Designer, kneeling down in front of Emily and grabbing her chin mockingly. The Agent had to look away. He didn't like seeming women being manhandled.
"Better start praying when you see him coming!" God agreed with Designer, making sure to note the irony of praying against one of God's divine judgments. It was sickening to watch.
"'Cause tonight it's curtains!" one of the Translators declared.

"You're the Avenger!" the other echoed. The Agent felt that Translator slap him playfully and, without meaning to, he jerked away.

"Remember who you are," several unseen angels warned The Agent when he made this minor error.

"I remember..." The Agent replied brokenly.

"Remember what you did to June!" the voices repeated. "Remember who you are."

"I remember..." The Agent repeated, just a little bit more desperate than before.

"To your knife!" Librarian interrupted, tossing The Agent the golden staff he used to cleanse Heaven's books. As he threw it, it morphed into a golden dagger the size of The Agent's forearm. It had a wickedly sharp tip. Emily screamed through her gag when she saw its hungry glow.
"See it glide!" Batez admired the weapon, stepping closer to The Agent.