1 | A Game of Cat and Mouse

Chicago, IL

November 13th, 1978

There was always something about the dark that had always unnerved him to no end.

He stared into the shadows of his office, eyeing them suspiciously as he packed up his important documents and other loose papers into a brown briefcase. His name was John Kristiansen, and he was an executive assistant at a local business. Or at least, that's what he wanted the people around him to think. John's true name was Venuch, and he was on the run.

From whom you ask?

Azzozas, also known (ironically) as the Angel of Death, was the demon behind John's anxiety. John supposed Azzozas had earned his title because of his strangely angelic appearance. The "Death" part came from how vicious the demon could be when provoked or challenged to a fight. Which…hardly anyone has seen even a glimpse of Azzozas in the past nearly three years. Until two weeks ago when he got a glimpse of the snake demon standing just outside of his peripherals. John scowled, the paper in his hand crumpling as his hand tightened into a fist. The nerve of that snake to think he could scare him, Venuch, into submission.

He wasn't afraid of that bastard anymore. Three years was long enough to forget the terror that seeing those bright pink eyes put in his bones.

John was only running because he didn't believe owed that asshole anything. Money was money and if Azzozas had failed to collect it the first year he was supposed to get it back, that was on him. He jerked in fear when he turned and mistook his curtains for Azzozas's white hair. Sneering at the curtains, he shoved the last of his papers in his briefcase and left the office, locking his door behind him. Some of his nicer coworkers waved their goodbyes but he barely spared them a glance.

John needed a drink.

▬

The bar was lively, John noted as he settled at the counter. Once his drink was ordered, he took a moment to look around at all the faces in the building. There were, of course, no familiar ones. Just random strangers looking to spend a weekend drunk and forgetting whatever sorrows the week had brought them. His gaze lazily drifted over an oddly familiar face with pink eyes.

Pink eyes…

John's eyes snapped back over to the area he'd seen the pink eyes in.

They were gone. Could that have been— no. People these days, he'd found, greatly enjoyed changing their eye colors with fake lenses to appeal to others.

Anyone could have pink eyes.

"Here's your drink, Sir," the bartender's voice brought him back out of his frenzied thoughts. A pineapple martini was set in front of him. He nodded his thanks and picked up the glass so he could drink away his own sorrows.

John figured he was just overthinking. After all, he had seen Azzozas in a bar setting similar to this one, so it was only natural for—

Annoyance coursed through his veins at the sound of nails clicking on wood.

He glanced over. A rather tall man with rather messy black hair and… unnaturally sharp nails had settled by him. John's eyebrows creased in confusion. How had he not heard the man sit down? He was a demon, and his senses were heightened beyond those of mortals. "Do you mind?" John sighed through his nose at the odd man.

The man replied, "Fun fact: the pineapple belongs to a family called Bromeliads and it's the only one of its kind."

John eyed the man. How had he known he was drinking something flavored with pineapple? Hell, the martini looked more like a glorified lemonade than a pineapple martini. "Do you want something or is this just you taking the chance to talk a stranger's ear off because nobody else will listen," he replied dryly. "I'm not here for chit-chat."

From the view he had of the side of the man's face, he could see he was smirking. "I'm well aware. You haven't changed in the past three years, eh, Venuch?"

Ice stormed through Venuch's veins when the man's head turned and he was looking into bright pink, slit-pupil eyes. That voice, that face…it was all coming back to him.

"You of all people should know names hold power," Venuch said, praying Azzozas couldn't see the way his hands slightly shook. He looked vastly different from the last time he'd seen him, but he had no doubt that this was Azzozas sitting beside him and staring into his eyes like he could see his soul. He'd thought he'd died, everyone in Hell had. Nobody had seen nor heard from him in three years and now he had come back to haunt him of all people?

"Is that why you avoid saying mine?" Azzozas questioned, eyes seemingly glowing in the low light of the bar.

Venuch said nothing for a long moment.

They both knew why he couldn't— wouldn't say his name. They both knew the real weight that the name Azzozas held. The decades of slaughter that hid by the name. Saying his name aloud was a death sentence in itself and Venuch would not allow himself to be bested by someone who wasn't a true demon. Angel's blood ran through his veins. Everyone knew it but nobody knew which angel he'd been. Venuch knew there'd be rumors circling that he'd been Zaphkiel…rumors Venuch had vehemently prayed to be false (the irony of such a sentence never failed to amaze him). He saw the slight glint of a tongue piercing on Azzozas's tongue. He breathed in. "The tongue never lies, Venuch, you are afraid," Azzozas said, turning away from him for a moment. "And your fear. I can smell it."

There was a slight hiss to his words that reignited the chill in Venuch's bones, reminding him that Azzozas was a snake demon. The room felt like it was closing on him once he realized that the sound of the mortals was gone, and he was alone with Azzozas. He thumbed the angel weapon that had been hidden beneath his trench coat. It was a smuggled, illegal weapon that would no doubt have him hunted down by the Dominions of Heaven should he be caught with it. The weapon was relatively simple: a double-edged sword made of the pure, white metal heavenly weapons were known for. It slowly become known as Celestial Steel on the streets, but he figured angels had a different name for it.

"Your tongue must be lying to you because I am no such thing," Venuch hissed. "But you will be."

Venuch drew the sword with inhuman speed, aiming right for Azzozas's neck.

Almost as if Venuch were nothing but an annoying fly at best, Azzozas swatted the sword away, barely flinching at it, and grabbed Venuch by the throat, tightening his grip around it like an iron vice as he leveled the smaller demon with a displeased glare. "Two. Weeks. I've watched you for two weeks. You barely even noticed my presence, but I've seen every move you've made," Azzozas listened to the sound of Venuch gasping for air, watching him claw uselessly at his hand. "Three days. No more. No less."

▬

Venuch's head jerked off the top of the bar as he greedily breathed in the air, the phantom feeling of Azzozas's hand around his throat was making him light-headed. The bartender gave him a weird look as he carelessly tossed money onto the bar and made to leave. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Azzozas's brown coat leaving the building.

The demon gave Venuch a look over his shoulder, pink eyes distinctly more snake-like as he disappeared into the public.

Venuch was going to need a lot more power if he hoped to take down that snake bastard.

Ignoring the anxiety that ate away at his very soul, he ran the entirety of the way back to his apartment. His lungs burned with the exertion and reminded him that even though he was above mortal limits, he still had his limits.

"Three days. No more. No less."

Three days for what?

Three days for what?

Venuch threw his briefcase haphazardly onto the couch as he locked his door, ensuring he didn't see a glimpse of Azzozas anywhere. Did he know where he lived? How long has he been stalking in the shadows while Hell whispered about his death? He paced his living room furiously. The motherfucker hadn't even told him what he wanted. Venuch spits out curses in Latin, shattering his floor lamp when he absentmindedly bumped into it, knocking it to the floor in his anger. He stared at the shattered glass for a few minutes, the anger had dissipated as quickly as it had come. A weary sigh left Venuch as he dropped down on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, carelessly pulling out a few of the blond strands.

His life as John Kristiansen had barely just started and it was already getting pulled away from beneath his feet like a ratty old rug.

Venuch sat on the couch for who knows how long before he stood and headed to his hallway. He needed to prepare for the mess he knew was going to come out of this.

There was a room in the same hallway as his bedroom that he kept locked and hidden away from prying eyes. At first glance, its door looked like a bookshelf, but Venuch knew it was far from such. He pressed a specific book, patiently waiting as the bookshelf disappeared into the wall. Throwing a glance over his shoulder as if Azzozas's presence lingered behind. He walked in, waiting until the door shut to move any further. Lights flickered on as he headed further into the room. Thanks to a bit of magic, he'd expanded the room's capacity beyond what was physically possible. The metal walls were covered in random assortments of highly advanced technology, high-tech lights flickering off and on as Venuch walked past. They were the result of years of stealing and smuggling that he'd done.

He paused in the center of the room. Venuch smiled at his greatest achievements.

According to Venuch's research: in Heaven, there were nine levels of angels in the Heavenly hierarchy: Colere, Rerum, and Regere.

He looked around at the rows upon rows of Celestial Steel weapons that decorated each of the four corners of the room. Of the nine angel choirs, only three wielded weapons, and Venuch had taken weapons from all three:

Dominions' spears, javelins, and polearms.

Powers' longswords, crossbows, and shields.

Archangels' scythes.

They glowed a dull white color, Celestial Power humming within the weapons despite their owners having been long gone. He's long since found a way to bypass the magic that kept demons from being able to hold such weapons though he wasn't able to wield any of them, aside from the Archangels' weapons, for longer than a few minutes tops. Which would be long enough for him to ensure Azzozas never moved again. Power Angels' weapons caused the worst pain for a demon and, even though he wanted to use one of them, he risked losing a hand (or his mind) from even trying to wield it. He patted his coat for the sword he'd had hidden in his coat.

Only to find it wasn't there.

His blood boiled once he realized Azzozas had stolen the weapon from right beneath his nose. The nerve of that cocky man. It took everything within Venuch's ability to not scream, despite being in the safety of his own home at the moment. He stared bitterly at the empty spot in his collection of angels' weapons. Well, if luck was on his side, he could get it back.

Venuch spent the next three weeks working from home. He'd finish his paperwork and then spend an hour or longer figuring out a game plan. If his neighbors heard his sounds of frustration well into unreasonable hours of daylight, none of them complained. (They did. Multiple times. He just didn't notice.)

It was a chilly Monday night in the city of Chicago, the biting air of winter having sunk its teeth into the atmosphere. The city was as alive as ever, hardly ever settling down regardless of what happened within the city limits. The familiarity of his home did nothing to soothe the strange feeling in the back of Venuch's mind that something was off. Presently, he was headed to the store to restock his fridge. Though he was a demon, he still needed some form of sustenance…and indulging in the occasional key lime pie wasn't out of his ability.

Regardless, he felt like he was being watched.

Venuch entered the store with a hand placed tightly on the weapon he'd secured beneath his coat. As he browsed the frozen section, a thought came back to him:

"Three days. No more. No less."

"So, you finally remembered?"

The store around him disappeared in an instant, replaced by the bar he'd last seen Azzozas in. In his hand was the same pineapple martini he'd been drinking that day as well, gone was his key lime pie. Ice made itself home in Venuch's veins when the weight of Azzozas's glare fell upon him.

The larger demon was sitting in a plush, red chair with golden accents. The white hair Azzozas was known for cascaded over his shoulders like a waterfall, he wore a half-buttoned white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to display the tattoos on his forearms. His arms were crossed over his chest, but otherwise, his posture was relaxed except for…

Blazing, slit-pupil eyes stared down at him.

All the plans Venuch had previously made abandoned him in an instant upon being on the receiving end of such a glare.

Azzozas sighed through his nose, swiping a glass of champagne out of thin air as he leaned back in his chair. "You know," the snake demon downed the champagne in one movement. "I am not a very patient man, Venuch. I explicitly told you three days—"

"B-but, you didn't say—"

Like a switch had been flipped, Azzozas's face morphed into a horrifying, sneer, pupils nearly disappearing in the pink of his iris. "—Do not interrupt me, or I will have your blood as my drink," he hissed inLatin.

Venuch's mouth clicked shut.

The rage on Azzozas's face disappeared as quickly as it had come. "As I was saying, I explicitly gave you three days, and yet here we are, sitting face to face on Monday, December 4th," Azzozas stated, crossing his legs. "I began to think you forgot about me. Am I so unremarkable?"

He was being toyed with. Venuch knew that much. Demons like Azzozas cared for naught for small fry such as Venuch. He was an Avarice demon, a demon of greed. They were laughably weak compared to other sin demons and especially the animal demons whose abilities weren't tied to emotion. Azzozas was aware of this despite only having existed as a demon for sixty-seven years. He was centuries Venuch's junior and yet he could play mind games like no other.

"What's the matter?" Azzozas questioned upon not getting an answer from Venuch. "Cat got your tongue?"

Venuch's hand inched under his coat.

"That's not going to work the way you think it will," the snake demon's unamused voice said. "You of all people know very well that I am not a true demon. I'm sure you've figured out by now what angel I was."

"Zaphkiel, the Angel of Death has fallen" were the words that haunted Hell for the past sixty-seven years. Nobody knew who Zaphkiel could be nor what circle of hell he'd appeared in. It caused a lot of chaos in the for ten years within all nine circles of Hell when the news got out that Zaphkiel had been cast out of Heaven, nobody trusted anybody, and all the demons who'd been formerly angels were shunned even worse than they'd usually been. The math started clicking in Venuch's head…

Zaphkiel fell sixty-seven years ago.

Azzozas appeared sixty-seven years ago.

Venuch stared at Azozzas, feeling his face pale. "You're…Za— you're him," it felt like all the air in his lungs had been sucked out.

"In the flesh," Azzozas grinned.

It made sense, in all honesty. Zaphkiel had been the General of Heaven's army, an Angel of Power. They were born to fight and Azzozas had done nothing but that since he stepped foot in Hell. "If you think I'm going to kill you, I won't," the white-haired demon said, sipping at another glass of champagne he'd pulled from thin air. "In fact, I've come with an ultimatum."

"Ultimatum?" Venuch asked, embarrassed but how his voice sounded higher pitched.

Azzozas didn't answer for a moment, seemingly preoccupied with something in the newspaper he'd…also grabbed from nowhere. "Considering I've told you a secret I've kept closely guarded for multiple reasons, I'll let you live if you agree to work under me," he said, folding the newspaper shut. "But the moment you whisper anything about my previous incarnation, I will give you a fate worse than death." In those few moments, Azozzas's form took on a more serpentine appearance. Black scales formed on his face as his eyes took on a more snake look and when he smiled fangs glistened dangerously in the light. All demons knew how painful his venom was or at least they knew by how the victims he'd used it on looked after death.

Grotesque wasn't even enough to describe it.

Venuch nodded submissively. "I accept your offer." It wasn't even an offer, just a death threat meant to further Azzozas's objectives. He wanted to tear his tongue out for agreeing to it instead of accepting an honorable death. Though…was dying by the venom so affectionately named Devil's Tongue really the way he wanted to go out? He may be called a coward for being forced to work under Azzozas but, with the knowledge, he was the very angel that had caused such widespread fear in Hell, was there any other choice?

"Good," Azozzas said, cheerfully, as if he hadn't been about to eliminate Venuch. "You need protection anyway. I know how you operate. Your greed for the power of angels precedes you." Azzozas raised his glass, tilting it so he could see the shock on the blond's face. Venuch saw his own fearful brown eyes, distorted by the shape of the glass, staring back at him.

Venuch, having found the courage finally asked, "Why are you doing this? Why aren't you trying to get back to heaven like the other half-breeds?"

The atmosphere shifted again. Azzozas's expression was blank as he set the champagne glass in the air. It did not fall. "... "Half-breed"? Did I hear that correctly from your mouth, Venuch?"

Realizing his mistake, Venuch stumbled over his words as he tried to rectify his words. "The other demons who have angel blood! Why aren't you trying to go back like them? Why are you here?!" he cried, terrified by the look in Azzozas's eyes. He could see it, the bloodlust.

"My motives are mine and mine alone. You do not need such an answer to work under me," Azzozas stood, everything he'd had disappearing immediately. He handed Venuch a folded piece of paper with something written upon it. "Now, be here in three days at six in the afternoon sharp. Don't do anything that will make me have to kill you, Venuch. I like you."

Venuch didn't get a chance to answer before he blinked and he was standing right in front of the fridge section of the store once more, his key lime pie safe and secured in the basket he was holding. A wad of money lay atop the pie. Venuch picked it up and unfurled it to count. "A hundred thousand dollars?!" he whispered. "That man…" If Azzozas had been any other demon, he would've called the money a charity gift but…all the same, a hundred thousand dollars is a hundred thousand dollars.

He pocketed the money and finished his shopping. He hoped having ties with Azzozas wouldn't get him killed.