Hell Within Heaven's Gates

11

Five hours later

Immane came back from the battle on Earth. She's a mess of blood and sweat. Her hair is a disaster and her clothes are torn. She quickly rushes to her room, finding it empty. What did she expect?

"Looking for your pet," Azazel growled from behind her.

Immane jumped, spinning around to face him. Her face had terror plastered on it.

"Don't worry, I took good care of her," his tone revealed his anger, even if his face didn't show it.

Immane glared at him, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That angel, that you couldn't get information out of. The one you let ROAM around hell. Sorry, but not sorry to say, she's mine now. You were too soft. We don't win, by being soft."

Immane clenched her jaw. If she did care about Seraphine, she didn't let it show. She squeezed her fist, digging her nails into the palm of her hand.

Azazel gave her one last glare before leaving her, alone.

"Oh and, you're not allowed in the cell block anymore," he called from a little ways down the hall. It carried down the hall through echos so she was still able to hear.

She didn't listen. Was the thought in her head. A small growl grew in her throat. How could she? How could Azazel? She punched the wall next to her, creating a hole.

Seraphine slowly became conscious, the bars of her cell blurring in and out of focus, she didn't move. She didn't feel like moving. Maybe she wouldn't heal herself. Death seemed pleasant compared to what she was feeling now. She felt hatred begin to boil within her, not for Immane, not for Lucifer, not even Azazel, it was purely her own. Her own hatred eating her from the inside out. She didn't register that she was crying, she could feel the sting of tears against the gouges in her face, but she refused to accept it.

Not allowed in the cell block. Idiot. How could she be so stupid. She should've tied her up. Or should've come up with a better excuse. But she didn't. Could she sneak into the cell block? No, that would definitely get her killed. Immane started pacing the hallways, thinking.

Seraphine closed her eyes, the pounding in her head from even the dim lights of hell, was too much. She heard footsteps nearby, maybe Azazel was coming back to kill her. She hoped as much.

Immane got close to the cells. Azazel didn't say she couldn't look in there. She peeked around the corner, seeing it empty.

She forced herself up, screaming when she put pressure on her dislocated shoulder, she had completely forgotten what was injured and what wasn't, she at least wanted to be sitting if she was going to heal herself, laying on the floor is just pathetic. She's pathetic.

Immane jumped at the scream. She recognized it. Seraphine. Where was she? Was Azazel with her? He'd better not be.

"Fuck, god- fucking damn it," she looked over her broken body. That's pathetic, she's pathetic, not escaping, pathetic.

I should have stayed in the room, I'm so fucking stupid. If I didn't care so much, I'd be fine, I should have just died while fighting. Her mind was racing, putting off the inevitable healing process.

Immane went to the sound of the scream, seeing Seraphine back in her cell. Her face was cut, her back, wing torn severely, her left arm out of place, various bruises and she was bleeding from pretty much every part of her body. Her head, bleeding. Stomach, bleeding. Anywhere she looked, Seraphine had an injury. If she wasn't an angel, she would have been dead.

Seraphine looked at the door before looking away. She was ashamed, very ashamed.

Immane's heart stuck in her throat, "god, Seraphine, what were you thinking?" Her face was covered with anger. The anger covered a deeper sadness, and even worry.

"I wanted to get people out, this isn't right, not one bit," her voice was strained and her pain was evident on her face.

"Oh my god," Immane rolled her eyes, so totally mad.

"You have very different opinions from me, now please just ... leave me alone," she looked over at Immane, she doesn't want her to, but at the same time she doesn't want her watching.

Immane didn't move. Her arms were crossed in her normal fashion, and she leaned against the wall.

"Please, Immane...."

She shifted her position and ran her right hand through her blood stained hair. The white being thoroughly replaced with red.

"Why," Immane asked, looking directly at her.

"Because I don't want you in here while I do this, obviously,"her tone soft and serious. She gazed back Immane, never glaring, never even changing her tone.

Immane stayed silent, her gaze never wavering.

Seraphine dropped her gaze to her lap accompanied by a sigh, it's not a pretty process. She closed her eyes and started healing anyway. She was biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep in screams. However, it offered little help.

Immane watched, her eyes moving up and down Seraphine's body.

Her wounds, very slowly closed and healed. Throughout the process she found her way to the ground curled up tightly. It didn't help much but she wasn't able to do much else. Her screams echoed throughout hell, down every hall.

Immane's face didn't change. She watched Seraphine, hurt starting to take place in her chest.

She stopped, breathing heavily, She needed a break before moving onto her wing. She started sobbing, everything hurt, horribly.

Immane was directly on the line from the hallway to the cell area. As she saw it, there was a choice. Listen to instructions, or not listen to instructions. She was thinking hard. If caught breaking rules, she'd be killed. But that was only if she got caught.

"Happy? Happy you got to watch me in pain," Seraphine was clearly upset, it showed from her voice to her features, she was being completely transparent.

Immane silently crossed over the barrier. She was never one to follow rules. She grabbed the keys from the wall. No one ever moved them, "get up," she ordered.

She pushed herself up, she'll heal her wing later. Later when her body isn't aching. She walked up and leaned on the bars.