Requiem: Book One in The Apocalypse Trilogy

Chapter Seven

“Hey!” A deep voice shouted at Lawrence. “Wake up.”

    Lawrence’s eyes fluttered open and he rolled over onto his side, staring up at a human soldier. The mortal was dressed in a black tank top with green cargo pants and black leather boots. He held a pistol in his hand, which happened to be currently pointed at Lawrence’s head.

    “Do you honestly think that pistol could harm me, cockroach?” Lawrence asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

    “I dunno. Let’s see,” The human smiled and suddenly pointed the gun at Lawrence’s leg, pulling the trigger.

    Instantly, Lawrence cried out in pain, reaching a hand down to where the bullet had entered his flesh. The muscles in his leg spasmed as the bullet’s heavenly fire seeped into his leg, burning him up. Lawrence jerked his head toward the mortal, his eyes black with rage and he wore a snarl on his lips.

    “I’m going to bleed you dry,” Lawrence snarled and he tried to get up out of the bed, until he realized that his other hand was cuffed to metal bed he was laying on. Written on the handcuffs, were Enochian symbols. “A binding spell. You’ve got to be kidding me!”

    “As long as those symbols are attached to you, I’m afraid you are powerless,” The mortal smirked.

    “Do you have an Angel imprisoned too?” Lawrence snarled, his eyes shifting back into his liquid honey brown eyes. “Only an Angel would know the symbols to use for a binding spell--”

    “Then how do you know what they mean?” A voice asked.

    Lawrence shot his gaze toward the open cell door as two more men entered the room. The first man to enter the room had short, spiked dark brown hair and light brown eyes. He was dressed the same as the other mortal but he held a rifle at his side. The second man to enter the room, had tousled dark hair and hazel eyes. He wore a plain black t-shirt and black cargo pants with black boots. A pair of white wings were folded delicately against his back.

    “There’s the Angel,” Lawrence announced, cocking his head to the side as he smiled. “By the looks of you, you aren’t imprisoned. Are you their pet, perhaps?”

    “Be quiet, you filth,” The Angel growled.

    “Ouch,” Lawrence held his hand over his heart. “That really hurt.”

    “I asked you a question, you black eyed son of a b.i.t.c.h,” The mortal with the brown eyes snapped.

    “And I politely declined the offer to answer,” Lawrence said.

    The Angel turned his eyes on the handcuffs and simultaneously, the handcuffs began to heat up. Lawrence winced in pain as he felt the metal burning his skin, searing the symbols into his flesh. As the temperature of the cuffs grew, Lawrence buried his face into the pillow, trying to muffle his screams of anguish.

“I know you can turn up the heat, Jadis,” The mortal said to the Angel, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The cuffs turned from a red hot glow, to white; the Heavenly fire burning his flesh. Lawrence screamed and writhed on the bed, trying to get his wrist out of the handcuff, but it was to no avail. The mark on his right collarbone burned along with the cuffs, sending Lawrence’s body into uncontrollable spasms. The smell of burning flesh filled Lawrence’s nostrils as he screamed, arching his back up off of the bed.

“Are you going to cooperate now?” The mortal asked over Lawrence’s screams.

“Bite me,” Lawrence said through his teeth, fighting back the screams that were building in his throat.

“Kent! What in God’s name are you doing?!”

Lawrence raised his head as a woman stormed into the cell. She shoved at the brown eyed mortal, pushing him a few feet back. The woman whirled on the Angel, her emerald green eyes burning with rage and her auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in ringlets. She wore the same attire as both of the mortals. Lawrence caught the glimmer of the cross underneath the lights that hung around her throat.

“Jadis,” The woman said and as soon as she spoke his name, the cuffs quickly cooled. “What in the hell are you two doing? He saved Laura’s and Carrie’s life!”

“A Demon is a Demon, Lorelei,” Kent growled.

“A prick is still a prick, Kent,” Lorelei said through her teeth.

The Angel flicked his gaze away, and it became apparent to Lawrence, that the Angel Jadis did not handle confrontation too well. Lawrence reached up, lightly rubbing at his wrist and gasped in pain. Enochian symbols were burned into his skin, rising from his flesh, pink and pulsing painfully.

“What is with you lately?” Kent asked. “Why do you keep defending them? Tell me, Lorel, because I would really like to understand what goes on in that head of yours.”

“We don’t know if he is a threat to us, Kent. He saved their lives. If he wanted to kill them, he would have,” Lorelei said with finality, turning her green gaze onto Lawrence.

“If this is your way of thanking me, I have been royally screwed over,” Lawrence growled, narrowing his eyes at the group of people surrounding him. “Now. If y’all would be so kind as to uncuff me, I will gladly be on my way.”

“You wish,” Kent snapped.

Lorelei shot him a dirty glare before she turned a softer gaze onto Lawrence. “I’m afraid it is not that simple. According to the rules here, we have to put you on trial.”

Lawrence chuckled and the mortals, including the Angel, all raised quizzical eyebrows at him. “You’re kidding me, right? If you all haven’t noticed, it’s the Apocalypse. There is no justice system anymore. It crumbled with the rest of your society.”

“Our Leaders founded a justice system,” Lorelei explained, folding her arms across her chest. “Just because it is the Apocalypse, doesn’t mean we can’t have order and justice in what is left of society.”

“Mortals,” Lawrence breathed in disgust. “Always thinking they can solve their problems on their own--oh wait,” Lawrence flicked his eyes toward the Angel. “They can’t.”

Kent moved forward, his fist connecting with Lawrence’s nose. His head snapped back and when he looked forward again, black blood seeped from one of his nostrils. Lawrence lifted his free hand to wipe at his nose, staring at the blood glistening against his skin.

“Did your parents ever teach you manners?” Lawrence asked, an amused glint in his honey brown eyes.

“Did yours? Oh wait, Demons don’t have families,” Kent glared.

“If you want to get into technicalities, Lucifer is our Father. He’s the one who created the very first Demon. Did you fail Demonology 101? Because due to your large muscles and small head, it seems to me that intelligence it not one of your strengths,” Lawrence said with a smirk.

“Why you little--” Kent sputtered, unable to finish his sentence and he pointed his rifle at Lawrence, the barrel at his eye level. “Rules or no rules, I’m going to kill it.”