Date: Thu, 14 Sep 2006 00:42:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: CloseTheCellarDoor <closethecellardoor@yahoo.com>
Subject: Evil is a Man: The Angel Stretched Out His Hand -- chapter 9

It was a Cathedral night just like any other; Sam had left me early on to
tend to his Justice business, whatever the fuck that meant, and I was left
to my own devices.

Some men are natural loners, enjoying all the quiet time they can get on
their own, needing nothing more than a good book to keep them company.

I was never one of those men.

The Cathedral was becoming more and more of a nightmare for me.  I liked
hanging out with Temperance, but he was often gone or unavailable, and that
left me completely on my own.  I was a kid of a digital age, yet without
electricity, the Cathedral was stuck in the dark ages.  A TV, a computer,
hell, even a radio would have given me something to do.

Instead, there were only three things to do here.  Work, which Cedric would
happily make me do anytime he saw me lingering around, and I completely
hated it.  Pray, which I did constantly, only most of the time I found
myself begging God to send me something to entertain me.  And lastly and
most commonly: read.  Read the old, boring books from the Cathedral
library.  Or, more likely, read the angel bible.

And read it, and read it, and read it, and read it some fucking more.

I threw the bible down from my place on the bed and yelled out in
frustration.

I looked around the dark, candlelit room.  I was so sick of these
surroundings.  No windows, no sunlight EVER, not a single bright electric
light.  Just the cold, dark, brown stone on every wall, every floor, every
ceiling.  The place had been carved right into the sandstone ground, and
all this place was really was a cave, an amazingly crafted cave, but a cave
nonetheless.  I had never considered myself claustrophobic before, but now
this fucking place was really getting to me.

Feeling anxious and angry, I lost control of myself and starting shouting
obscenities while knocking the shit out of my pillow.  At least doing some
violence was helping me lose some steam.

"Whoa, I think that pillow is fluffed enough," Sam said, coming into the
room without me seeing him.  "What's bothering you?"

I stopped hitting the pillow and looked over at him.  Before, he would not
have needed to ask me what was bothering me, he would have already known.
Now that he could no longer read my mind, he could only guess.  "I'm going
stir-crazy in this place," I said angrily.  "I want to get the fuck outta
here."

Seeing me seethe with frustration, Sam came over to me and put his hands on
my bare chest.  "Shh, shh, shh.  It's okay, Bradley, just calm down."

I took a deep, relaxed breath as his magic skin worked its wonders on me.
This was the only real cure for my frustration and anxiety, his touch.
This was what kept me alive, kept me going.  As I sighed and melted into
him, I knew that as addicted to his cum as my body was, I was even more
addicted to his touch.  Without it, I would not have been able to remain
sane.

"There you are," he said in that soothing tone of voice of his.  "Just
relax, let me inside you.  I promise in a few more days, I will take you on
a trip out of here.  It will be one of many such trips we'll go on in the
near future."

"You'd better keep that promise," I told him.

"Would I ever lie to you?" he asked.

"No," I admitted.  Though the reverse was certainly not true.

Ever since I had lied and told him I could not lower this psychic shield of
mine, Sam and I had began to drift.  This certainly wasn't Sam's fault, as
he had been trying as hard as he possibly could to talk with me and appease
my often unpredictable moods.  It was my fault entirely that our
relationship was starting to sour.  Knowing that he could no longer catch
me in my lies, I had started lying freely like I had always done before I
had met him.  Old habits die hard, I guess.  The lies I told him weren't
major, they were just many little lies that all seemed to add up.

Why did I lie to him like that, knowing that it was destroying the love we
had for each other?  I didn't know, exactly.  Perhaps it was just because I
could lie to him, and he was so earnest and trusting that he would never
even suspect it.  It annoyed me that he didn't put me in my place and call
me on my shit like he had always done before, so out of spite, I lied and I
lied more, just to hurt him.

But I still loved him, and I always would.  I knew that much as he held me
there in his arms, protecting me from my volatility.  No matter how much I
hurt him, he would always be the only one I loved.

That doesn't mean he would be the only one I would ever lust over.  Not by
a long shot.

*****

"How will you know if you don't like something if you don't give it a fair
shot?"

I didn't think up an answer to that question.  So, I ended up with his
right headphone stuck into my right ear, his loud death-metal raging an
assault on my eardrum.

It had started with Rammstein.  Then it was Cradle of Filth.  Then he had
put on what he referred to as a "golden oldie," Iron Maiden.  When I still
gave him a look of dislike, his finger fired fast over the mp3 player in
his palm.  One thing was for damn sure, Temperance was persistent.

"One last one," he said.  "If you don't like this one, you must be dead.
Mephistopheles is the name of the band."

"What are they, Greek?" I asked him.

He smiled his half smile and rubbed his goatee.  "Bro, you never read
Faust?"

"Read what?"

"They don't make you read that shit in school anymore?  Well, in Faust,
Mephistopheles is the name of the devil."  He listened with cool excitement
to his earpiece, his eyes half-shut and droopy like they always were.
"Fucking sick, man.  Take a listen."

Mephistopheles came on, and for the life of me, I could not tell any
difference between it and the last couple of bands he played me.  He may
have loved the music, but I couldn't stand the stuff.

The only reason I put up with it at all was because it gave me a chance to
be close to Temperance.  The two of us were lying on our backs, side by
side on the couch in the great room.  His bare arm was against mine, as was
his cheek as he let the two of us listen to his music at once, the
earpieces divided between us.

"So, man?" he asked me when the song had finished.  "Mephistopheles.  What
do you think?"

I pulled the earpiece out of my ear.  "I think you owe me a fucking
aspirin."

"Ah man, you're no fun.  No fun at all."

 "I've got a headache the size of... the size of my dick thanks to you."

He smiled.  "So, a rather small one, eh?"

"Fuck you, bro," I said.  "You don't have any aspirin, do you?"

"Yeah, I got a load for Ollie in my room."

"Well, go get me some!"

He laughed and pushed me away.  "Hey now, it's supposed to be us angels
giving you Delectors the orders, not the other way around."

"Well, you caused my headache," I said.  "You should have to fix it."

"Fix it your damn self.  The aspirin is in a bottle on my dresser.  Help
yourself."

I got up from off the couch, gathering my orientation at first as all the
bedroom doors of the inner circle looked identical.  Figuring out from
memory which one was Temperance's, I walked towards it, went through, and
shut the door behind me.

The room was pitch black, except for one lit candle that was sitting on a
small table right by the door.  I lifted it up and went forward into the
room, coming immediately to the wooden dresser.

Just like he had promised, there was a bottle of aspirin waiting for me.  I
opened the bottle and helped myself to a couple pills.

I was about to turn around and leave again when something came over me.
Curiosity.  Maybe it was motivated by my growing infatuation for
Temperance, but I reached down and quietly opened the top drawer of his
dresser.

It wasn't that I was looking for anything in particular.  I just knew I
could pry a bit and get away with it now that the angels could no longer
read my mind.  No harm done.

I expected to see clothes inside the drawer.  Instead, all I saw were
bottles.  The short, plastic kinds with child-proof caps.  Rows and rows of
bottles.  There was an ostensible pharmacy contained entirely in
Temperance's top drawer.

Knowing I found something I shouldn't have found, I quickly shut drawer and
picked up my candle, turning again for the door.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, I was attacked.  Tackled and knocked to the ground.
I screamed as it happened, completely terrified.

The candle in my hand fell to the floor and went out.  The creature was on
top of me, limbs pushing and pulling and grabbing at me.

I yelled angrily and tried to fight back, but my fist hit nothing but air.
I couldn't see my assailant.

Two fingers fishhooked my nostrils.  Then, a most unpleasant sensation hit
me as warm wetness invaded my ear.  I shuddered, disgusted, as the fucker
tongue-raped my ear!

Finally, I got my hands on the motherfucker.  Finally, I pulled back my
hand and hardened my fist, ready to fight back with all that I had.

I was so charged with rage, I didn't notice the door opening, the light
spilling in, the man coming into the room.

"Stop, bro!  Stop!"  It was Temperance's voice, and I was sure he was
speaking to my attacker.  "It's just Ollie, bro!  He's not gonna hurt you!"
Then I realized he was telling me to stop.

"Stop?  Stop what?  He was the one who jumped on me!"

Temperance was pulling the man off me, this Delector that before now I had
never laid eyes on.  He was a small black man, looked to be around fifty,
his head shaved and his fat head seeming so much larger in proportion to
his sickly body.  He wore loose cotton pajamas, which he now clutched
tightly in his right hand, his eyes darting to and fro, his feet trying to
walk in vain as Temperance held him in place.

"He's not young, Brad," Temperance was saying.  "You should be gentle with
him."

"Gentle?" I yelled, getting to my feet.  "Dude attacked me, completely
unprovoked!  How gentle is that?"

Temperance shut his eyes and shook his head.  "No, no, no," he said calmly.
"Ollie doesn't have a violent bone in his body.  He just wanted to make
your acquaintance in his own way.  Didn't you Ollie?"

Ollie didn't respond, instead continuing to look nervously around the room.

"Well, he fucking stuck his tongue in my ear!" I yelled.

Temperance's face lit up with self-satisfied smugness.  "Ha!  I thought he
might.  Ollie has a thing for ears."

"EAAAR!  EAAAR!" Ollie shouted excitedly.

"Yes, Ollie, you fucking love the stuff, don't you?" Temperance asked,
still grinning.  "It's kind of cute, until you're in bed with the little
fucker and you can't sleep all day cause he's eating out your ear all
night."

"EAAAR!" Ollie yelled excitedly.

"You bastard!" I said.  "You knew he was gonna attack me when you sent me
in your room, didn't you?!"

"Ha!  Maybe so.  But you had to be introduced to Ollie somehow, didn't
you?"

"Yeah, well fuck you," I said, using my sleeve to wipe the slobber out of
my ear.  "That's disgusting."

Temperance just laughed smugly.  "Ollie's not exactly with it these days,"
he said.

"I can see that," I said, looking at Ollie suddenly try to swallow his
whole fist.  "Dude's a fucking nutcase."

"Yup," Temperance agreed easily.  "Certifiable, for sure.  If you could
read minds like me, you'd understand just to what extent that is true.  Not
a single logical thought going on in there.  He has no memory as well,
never recalls information of any kind."

I perked up, remembering suddenly that I had been invading Temperance's
privacy by going through his things, and Ollie must have been watching me
the whole time.  "Really?" I asked.  "So if Ollie experienced something,
you'd never know what it was?"

"Damn right," Temperance said.  Then he raised an eyebrow at me.  "Wait a
second here.  What did you do?"

"Me?  Nothing."

He continued to stare me down.  "Brad, my man.  You know you're not allowed
to lie to us angels.  Come on, fess up, man.  Come clean."

"Okay," I admitted.  "I looked in your dresser and found your secret drug
stash."

Temperance chuckled.  "Fuck, is that all?  That's no secret.  Before
Ollie's mind left, he was an addict.  I encouraged him to quit, but he was
never strong enough.  Not wanting to try and pull some bullshit father
figure stuff with him, I got him whatever he asked for.  Maybe that's why
he deteriorated as quickly as he did."

"How old is he?" I asked.

Temperance looked up and wrinkled his brow in thought.  "Well, let's see.
Add the eight, carry the three... he'd be thirty-four."

I was stunned.  "Thirty-four?  That's it?"  The guy's face was covered with
wrinkles, and the little hair that was on his head was grey.

He shrugged.  "That's not so young," he said.

Ollie made a sudden, painful moan and tried to wrest free of Temperance's
grasp.

"He's antsy.  You got him all wound up, coming in here with your sexy,
irresistible ears and all."  He chuckled again.  "I'd better get him calmed
down.  Check you later, bro."

I said goodbye and left the room, still feeling confused.  How could Ollie
possibly look so horrible at such a young age?  Was it all due to the
drugs?  Dude was a poster child for the anti-drug league.

I thought about some of the meth fiends I came across while I was in LA.
All of them looked much older than they really were, their skin turning
ashen and wrinkled, their teeth falling out.  Christ, I was damn lucky to
quit that shit when I did.  Otherwise, would I have ended up as fucked-up
as Ollie?

Suddenly I was thankful to Sam for making me quit when he did.  While I may
have resented him for getting involved, I considered what my fate would
have been if I had been Temperance's Delector instead of Sam's.  His hands
off, peer approach may have seemed a lot more cool, but look where it got
Ollie?  A fucking thirty-four year old who looked fucking twenty years
older.

As I looked around the great room, my mind seemed to itch.  Something in
the back of my head nagged me.

Cedric was the only one in the room, over in the kitchen area, furiously
scrubbing down the sink.  He was a cleaning maniac, and I kept in the
shadows so he wouldn't see me.

I looked around at all the bedroom doors, checking all of them off in my
mind as I went.  I had been in all of them except one.  Met every member of
the inner circle except one.

I focused in on the one door I had not been through.  I was suddenly
determined to go inside, and I wasn't willing to wait.

I had seen Faith leave that room hours ago, and hadn't seen him come back.
He was probably upstairs in the chapel.  I could easily sneak into his room
without him noticing.

But I quickly rejected this idea.  His Delector was inside, I knew.  He
would see me come in, and his alarm would be enough for Faith to
psychically realize that I was breaking and entering into his room.  In a
matter of seconds, I'd probably be dead, the victim of Faith's
self-righteous wrath.

Of course, Faith's Delector was sick as well, as I had never seen him come
out of his room.  If he was crazy like Ollie, or even just asleep, like
Yann always was, I could sneak in and have a look without Faith ever
knowing.

No, I thought.  Too risky.

Time for plan B.  I turned towards the kitchen and approached.

"Hey there, Cedric," I said from behind the man.  "What are you doing?"

He turned around to look at me.  "There ya are, lad.  Been looking for you
all night.  What does it bleeding look like I'm doing?  I'm cleaning,
cleaning everything by myself, like usual.  Fernando and Sebastian have
gone off traipsing around the world with their Domnos, and I'm stuck here
with just you as my partner to up-keep all of this.  Hell, what do you
think I'm doing?"

"Look, Cedric, I think I'm ready to get to work now," I said.

"Well, roll up yer goshdarned sleaves and get to it."

I grabbed a sponge and dipped it in his bucket of soapy water, helping him
finish the kitchen.  When we had finished, Cedric had no thanks for me.

"That's barely the beginning," he said instead.  "You can continue by
cleaning the bathroom next, while I go upstairs and dust the chapel."

I didn't think I could possibly manage to clean the bathroom on my own.
Instead, I asked him, "You usually clean Faith's room, don't you?"  I knew
he did because I had seen him go in and out of that room many, many times.

"Aye," he said.  "Faith's Delector don't have the means to clean it
himself, so I help out.  Do what I can."

"I'd like to help out Faith however I can as well," I said.  "Could I help
you clean the room?  Could you teach me what to do?"

Cedric looked somewhat surprised.  "I was under the impression you didn't
have much love for the head angel."

I shook my head definitively.  "Cedric, that couldn't be further from the
truth.  I look up to the guy like a father."

"Well then," Cedric said.  "I don't suppose it would do any damage to bring
you in there with me, as long as you do exactly what I say."

"Of course," I said.

"But I wasn't planning on cleaning that room until later tonight," he said.
"But, if you're so eager to help out, I supposed we could do that first."

"Oh, could we, Cedric?" I asked excitedly.  Cedric had to be one of the
dumbest people I had ever met in my life.

"Sure," he said, grabbing his supplies with a satisfied smile and leading
me right to Faith's door.  "Just mind where you step while we're in there."

He pushed open the heavy wooden door, bringing a candle into the dark room,
me coming in cautiously behind him.  The room in its darkness was identical
to Fortitude's, and I half expected Ollie's tongue to come flying towards
my ear at any second.

Cedric moved quickly around the room, knowing in the dark exactly where
each candle was, and lighting them quickly, until the room flickered in
pale yellow candlelight.

Although identical in size and furnishings to the other six bedrooms, this
one was definitely owned by Faith.  Beautifully crafted crucifixes of all
shapes and sizes were neatly arranged on every wall.

But my eyes were drawn to the figure lying in the bed.  A large man, from
the looks of it, though the bedsheets were pulled tight over the man's
head, so his features remained obscured.  Deep breaths and the slightest
hint of a snore gave proof that the man was sleeping.

Cedric glanced around the room.  "Not much to clean tonight," he said in
his typical boomy tone of voice.  "Lucky, ain't we?"  He tossed me a rag.
"You best get to cleaning that dresser over there," he said.

"Cool," I replied, starting my work, but always keeping an eye on the
figure in the bed.

"Just be sure you don't go over by the bed disturbing Leong over there," he
said.  "Wouldn't want to be waking him, would we?"

"I guess not," I said.

"That's for darn sure!" Cedric yelled out, laughing.

"Shouldn't we keep it down, then?" I asked Cedric quietly.

"Keep what down?  Our voices?  Nah, Leong don't mind the sound."  He turned
towards the bed, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled, "You don't
mind the noise, ain't that right, Leong?"

No response came from the bed except for the continued breathing.

"See?  Noise don't bother him."

"I guess not," I said at my normal volume level.  "Is he deaf?"

"Nah, he can hear alright," Cedric said.  "He just don't care, is all."  He
scooped up a pile of sheets into his arms then.  "I'm gonna go drop these
off at the washroom and get a fresh set."  He started for the door, then
suddenly stopped himself to look sternly at me.  "YOU don't get into any
trouble while I'm gone, ya hear?"

"How could I get into trouble?" I asked.  "I'm just cleaning."

"Just don't touch Leong.  He hates to be touched.  Better not come anywhere
near him.  In fact, better just stay on that end of the room.  Just to be
safe.  Got it?"

"Yeah, man, I got it."

Cedric left the room with the sheets in his arms, leaving the door wide
open.

I immediately dropped my dustrag and tip-toed to the bed.  Leong, or
whatever his name was, was lying on his back in the bed, the sheet pulled
over his face.  I couldn't make out any features beyond his large size.

Cedric had said that he didn't like being touched, but I needed to see what
he looked like before I would let myself leave the room.

I crept closer, leaning silently over his form.

I could get what I came for without touching him at all, I told myself.

I reached forward, grabbing the top of the sheet with both hands.
Carefully and very slowly, I started to pull the sheet down.  I was doing
it so gently, he would think it was just a slight breeze.

As I started to pull the sheet past his face, he still showed no sign of
waking.  He was an Asian man, with light brown, wrinkled skin and white
hair.  He looked to be in his late sixties or early seventies: younger than
Yann, but older looking than Ollie.

Even though the man was sleeping, his face looked almost in pain, as if he
was uncomfortable or he was having some sort of nightmare.

Seeing enough, and worried Cedric would come back and catch me, I carefully
pulled the sheet back up over his head.

As I turned away from the bed to move back towards the dresser, thoughts
started to run through my head about the age of this man.

I stopped moving when I heard the sound of swishing bedsheets.  That
wasn't--

An angry roar.  Arms surrounded me and pulled me backwards, into the bed.
My adrenaline was going, and it took me a moment to realize that Leong was
attacking me.

POP, POP, he punched me in the side of my head.

A knee came sharp into my sternum, and I lost my breath.

That's when I realized that this wasn't some good natured playful wrestling
like Ollie put me through.  This Leong motherfucker was out to kill, and
the guy was big and fucking strong for an old guy.

Not wanting to hurt him, I grappled at him with my arms, putting him into a
headlock.  "Stop, man!  Stop or I won't let you go!"

"Devil!" he snarled before sinking his chompers right into my arm.

I screamed as I let him go, realizing that his vicious bite had broken skin
as soon as I saw the red.  He took my surprise to his advantage, and
started hitting me again.

Big hands lifted me off the bed, and in my disorientation, at first I
thought Leong was responsible.

I was thrust hard against the wall, knocking the breath out of me again,
and causing a crucifix to fall.

My legs dangling useless underneath me, I realized I was hanging in the
air, my only support a black-skinned hand at my throat.  I grabbed this
hand with both of my own, trying to break it down, but it was like stone.

Faith stood before me, venom in his dark eyes.  It was only now that I was
lifted off the ground that I looked into those eyes at their level.

I was scared out of my mind.  I was sure he was going to kill me.

"I didn't," I stammered, hardly unable to talk as his hand was choking me.
"He attacked me!" I finally made out.

His eyes and lips tightened.  "Because you provoked him," he said.  "Cedric
ordered you not to touch him, and yet, you disobeyed him, didn't you?"  He
pulled me forward and then slammed me harder against the wall, two more
crucifixes dropping.  "DIDN'T YOU?!" he screamed.

I shook my head.  "Just pulled the sheet down so he could breathe, that's
it, I swear!"

With an angry grunt, Faith threw me down to the ground, hard enough so that
at first I thought I might have been hurt.

"Get out," he yelled.

I pulled myself to my feet and complied, running for the door.

"GET OUT AND NEVER COME IN HERE AGAIN!!"

I shut the door behind me, and kept on walking.  When I was across the
great room, I looked down to investigate my wounds.

The pain in my body told me I'd soon be black and blue, but nothing was
broken.  Looking at my arm, I saw seven or eight little bloody teeth marks,
all in a curved row.

As my fear left me, all that remained was anger.  It was the second time I
had been attacked by a loony Delector tonight, and Faith's Delector had
been way more fucked up in the head than Temperance's.

I thought momentarily about just calling it a night and quitting my
investigation.  Retreating and licking my wounds.  But the moment passed.

Instead, I walked to Humility's door and knocked loudly, praying that he
was there.

"Bradley, come in," came his voice from inside.

I opened the door.  Humility was at his desk, his hands on an old dusty
braille book.  At first he didn't look up.

"How did you know it was me if you can't read my mind?" I asked him.

"It's that very reason that I knew it was you," he said.  "Any angel would
have announced himself psychically to me as they knocked, and any human I
would been able to read.  There is only a minimal chance that there is a
blooddemon at the door knocking tactfully, so therefore it is safe to
assume it is you."  He turned away from his book and smiled at me.  "Now,
what can I do for you this time, my boy?"

"I just need you to answer some questions and I need you to be straight
with me," I said.  "You're the only one who I know won't lie to me."

"No angel will lie to you, Bradley," he said.  "To do so would be
punishable by death and damnation."

"Well, you're the only one who I know will tell me all the facts without
evading my questions, like Sam always does when he doesn't want to tell me
something."

"Alright," Humilty said.  "Now that you have bestowed this professorial
honor upon me, you'd better start asking me questions."

"What's wrong with Faith's Delector?  And Temperance's?  What's wrong with
his?  And don't tell me it's drug usage, no drugs do what's happened to
him."

"While I cannot say definitively whether drugs have done their damage or
not, both of those Delectors are severely mentally unwell."

I shook my head.  "That's not all that's wrong here," I said.  "Temperance
said Ollie was thirty-four!"

Humility nodded.  "That seems about accurate to me."

"And Faith's Delector?" I asked.  "How old's he?"

"Hmm.  I'd could be wrong, but I'd venture to guess that Leong's about
forty-five?"

I was struck by that.  The guy looked like he was seventy!

"What about the other Delectors?" I asked quickly.  "How old are they?"

"Well, Cedric is in his thirties," he said.

Cedric looked like he was in his fifties!

"Fernando and Sebastian are about the same age as each other," he said.

"Which is?"

"Early twenties.  Not much older than you."

I reeled back.  Fernando and Sebastian looked like men in their thirties.
They looked much, much older than I did.

I gestured weakly towards Yann's decrepid, ancient figure, sleeping in
their bed.  "And Yann?" I asked, already feeling sick.  "How old is he?"

Humility smiled.  "Yann's age I know for certain.  He's fifty-two years of
age."

I shook my head, horrified.  "He looked like he's about a hundred," I
stammered.

Shock seemed to register suddenly across Humility's face.  "Oh my Lord," he
said.  "You don't know?  Justice didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't fucking tell me!" I yelled.

"Bradley," he said, shaking his head.  "You need to talk to him about
this."

"Sounds like damn good advice!" I yelled angrily, leaving his bedroom and
slamming the door behind me.

I didn't think I'd find Sam in our bedroom, as he usually spent most of the
night off tending to Justice matters, but there he was when I opened the
door and came in, sitting on the bed, a pile of papers spread around, which
he was looking over as he smoked a cigarette.

"Have a nice day, sweetheart?" he said to me sarcastically, in good humor
but not caring enough to look up from his work.

I swished the grey smoke he was creating around with my hand.  "Smoking in
our windowless bedroom again.  Fucking awesome.  Shouldn't you be concerned
about my health?  Second hand smoke kills, doesn't it?"

He smiled slightly but didn't look up.  "With a hide as thick as yours?  I
don't think so."

I walked over and snapped his cigarette out of his hand.  That got his
attention, as he looked up from his papers, confused.  "Well, if it's not
so bad, how about I smoke it straight from the source?"  I took a long,
exaggerated drag.  "Ah, tasty.  I could really get used to this stuff.  And
we both know you wouldn't give a shit if I keeled over and died from cancer
or anything."

With a sigh, Sam pushed his papers away.  "Okay, what's up, Bradley?" he
asked me.  "And we both know it has nothing to do with my smoking."

"You're right," I said, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stepping on
it.  "Tastes like shit, anyway.  Disgusting, just like you taste when I
kiss you.  Fucking disgusting."

"Alright, Bradley," Sam said to me.  "Could you at least pretend to handle
your anger with some maturity?  You could start by telling me exactly why
you are upset with me.  In case you've forgotten, I can no longer read your
mind."

"I'll tell you why I'm angry," I said.

"Thank the Lord!"

"I'm angry because you fucking lied to me."

"I never lie.  Lie about what?"

I pointed my finger at him.  "You never told me about what it means to be a
Delector!  It changes you!  What is it that does it to them?  It's the cum,
isn't it?  It's the goddamn angel cum!"

He nodded calmly.  "Yes, it is."

"It ages them unnaturally!  Turns them insane!  Did you think I wouldn't
find out about this?  Is that what you were hoping for, Sam?"

Sam shook his head.  "Honestly, I am shocked that it took you this long to
put two and two together.  The evidence has been right in front of your
face all along.  All Delectors age at an accelerated rate.  It's the semen
that does this to them, yes.  And as they age, their minds give way as
well.  Temperance, Faith, and Humilty all have Delectors who have lost
their minds.  This is the natural way of things for the last phase of a
Delector's life.  But even the young ones are affected.  Think on all the
Delectors you have known who seemed a little off.  Cedric has the
intellectual capacity of a child.  It is even starting to show in Sebastian
and Fernando.  They are starting to slip towards neuroses.  I didn't try to
hide any of this from you."

"But you deceived me!" I yelled angrily.  "And me?  What will happen to me?
Will I look forty by the time I'm twenty-five?  Will I be certifiable by
the time I'm forty, and die at fifty-years of extreme old age?"

"That is the fate God prescribed for every Delector," he said.  "A flash in
the pan existence.  Of course, because you are the Eversor, you might live
longer than most Delectors.  Age slower.  But you will not even achieve a
normal lifespan.  This is the sacrifice every Delector must make."

"Yeah, well, I want out," I said.  "Fuck this Delector bullshit.  Change me
back."

He shook his head.  "There is no going back.  The semen is what will kill
you eventually, but go without it and you will die a quick death.  Either
way, it will kill you in the end."

"I want out!" I screamed.  "You should never have done this to me!"

"Done this to you?" he said, getting to his feet.  "You were the one who
begged me to do it!  You remember that?  Even then, I refused.  I knew that
you would give up something much greater than any other Delector gives.
You'd be relinquishing your immortality.  I told you that.  Yet, you
insisted.  Beyond that, you threatened me with suicide.  I explained to you
that you would be trading your immortal life in for one of brief servitude,
and still you threw yourself upon me!"

I turned my back on him and shook my head.  "I never understood what I was
giving up," I said.  "Not really, anyway.  You should have found a way to
keep me from this, this slow, painful death."

"Well, I'm sorry," Sam said.  "Honestly, you're the first Delector I've
known who regretted their choice.  All of the Delectors here know what they
are getting into.  They know what they need to give up, and their happy to
do it, for the chance to be in the service of God and live lives which hold
so much more importance than any of normal men."

"Fuck that," I said, spinning around angrily.  "I'm just not gonna lie down
and be submissive like that.  You know that's not how I am!"

"Of course I know," he said.  "I also know you can change if you really
want to."

"No," I said.  "I can't change who I am."  I started to pace the room,
frustrated as fuck.  "I want you, I want you to make me like you, Sam.
Make me an angel.  Make me immortal again."

Sam shook his head.  "No.  You know I can't do that."

"Why the fuck not?"

"You know why not," he said.  "No, absolutely not.  Don't ever ask me that
again."

I reeled at him.  "Fuck you, Sam!  You have the power to save me, to save
my fucking life, and you selfishly keep it to yourself!  You should burn in
hell for that, and you fucking know it!"

"I'm disregarding anything you say to me now," he said, turning his back to
me and looking down at his papers.  "You're angry and you're lashing out."

"Don't fucking ignore me, Sam!  You--"

"Shh!" he said suddenly, putting his hand to his mouth.

"Don't you fucking shush me, motherfucker," I yelled.  "I'll speak my
fucking mind!"

"Bradley, quiet!  Please!"  He put his hand to his temple and closed his
eyes.

"What's the matter, am I giving you a migraine or something?  Well I don't
give a shit."

"No," Sam said.  "Oh my Lord," he said, opening his eyes.  "Dead.  He's
dead."

"Who's dead?" I asked, confused.

Sam shook his head.  "My God.  Dead."

"You'll be dead in a few seconds if you don't tell me what the fuck's going
on."

"Follow me," Sam said as he headed for the door.

"What the fuck?" I asked, following him anyway.

As soon as Sam and I went into the great room, I realized something was
majorly wrong.  Faith, Temperance, and Humility were already in the room.
Chastity and Cedric came out of their room a moment later.  All of them had
dire, concerned looks on their faces.

"What's going on?" I asked, but none of them responded.

I heard footsteps coming down from the stairwell.  Surprised, I spun around
to see Charity coming down the stairs, looking just as grim-faced as the
other angels.

"Charity?" I asked.  "But he and Fortitude weren't supposed to come back
from Nicaragua until two days from now."

Behind Charity, Fernando came into the room.  His face was red and tears
were streaming down his cheeks.  Upon further inspection, I could see both
his and his Domno's clothes were covered in blood.  Something had gone
terribly wrong.

"What happened?" I asked Charity straight up, fucking fed up with the
angels talking psychically, if that's what they were doing.

Charity shook his head.  "Fernando and I were out handing out food and
blankets to the needy.  Fortitude and his Delector stayed at our hotel.
When we came back..."

Fernando sat down on the ground and covered his face with his hands.

"When we came back, everything was torn up.  The room was ripped apart so
much, it was obvious one helluva fight happened there.  One helluva fight.
Fortitude must have really given em all he got."  He took a deep breath.
"We found poor Sebastian there.  He was well beyond any medical help."

To the side, Fernando sobbed a little.  The other angels looked remorseful,
hanging their heads respectfully.

"We brought him back here," Charity said.  "What was left of him, anyhow.
For a proper burial."

"And Fortitude?" Faith asked, clearly tense.  "What has become of him?"

"We searched the city but there was no sign of him," Charity said.

"He could still be alive!" Chastity blurted out.

"If he was alive, then that must have meant he has been captured," Faith
said.  "Otherwise, he would have never let his Delector perish the way he
did.  No, he must be dead."

"There is only one way to know for sure," Humility said.

"Yes," Faith replied.  "We shall invoke the Iunctus.  Immediately, to the
conclave."

He motioned upwards, and the other angels began to follow.

"If I may ask," Sam began, "what is the Iunctus, precisely?"

"You will know soon enough," Faith replied.

When I tried to follow them, Chastity pushed me back.  "You cannot come, of
course!" he said.

The six Seraphim disappeared upstairs, leaving us three Delectors alone in
the great room.

"Do either of you know what the Iunctus is?" I asked, hating more than
anything the feeling of being left out of the loop.

"Well, now," Cedric said, his face is such deep thought it looked painful
on him.  "Seems I used to know one what it was.  I musta plum forgot."

"The Iunctus," Fernando cut in, "is an extremely Holy ritual only the
Seraphim are able to perform."  He wiped his eyes dry and looked at me.
"I've never seen them do it in person, but in theory, I know how it's
done."

"How?"

Fernando cleared his throat.  "The Seraphim pool their psychic energies
together.  In order for them to do this, they must enter a sort of psychic
trance and connect with one another.  This process alone sometimes takes
hours.  Once the Iunctus has been formed, they all experience a collective
psychic being, a power that is much, much greater than any one angel's mind
alone.  With this, they can psychically search the entire world for an
ally."

"You think they'll find Fortitude?" I asked him.

Fernando shrugged.  "The Iunctus is like a psychic telephone," he said.
"If Fortitude is alive, he'll know they are calling out to him, even if he
is asleep or unconscious.  All he has to do is answer them back.
Psychically tell them what has happened to him and where he is.  His
captors will never know that he's betrayed this information, and the angels
will launch a rescue mission."

"That's if he's alive," I said.

"If he's not alive, then..." he shrugged.  "Nothing."

*****

Four and a half hours later, the Seraphim came back downstairs, all of them
looking disappointed and heavy-hearted.

"Nothing," Humility said to the three of us Delectors.

"Which means, he must be dead," Temperance said.  "There's just no other
option."

"Yes," Faith said.  "He is gone."

"But why, then, didn't we find his body?" Charity asked.

"I wish that you had," Faith replied.  "I can't bear to think of Faith's
body being defiled out there.  His body should be buried here, with all the
other Seraphim."

"His attackers must have taken the body," Sam said.

"To subject it to their own cruel perversions!" Chastity said.  "Only the
blooddemons could have done such an act!"

"Yes, plainly they must be liable," Faith said.  "Only they would have the
might to conquer someone as terribly potent as Fortitude.  That part of the
world is swimming with the demons.  And this has occurred previously as
well.  The demons have slain Cherubim before and pilfered their bodies.
For what rationale I cannot even begin to envision.  Perchance to
scrutinize our composition so that they may fine-tune their strikes against
us."

"Unless," Sam said.  "Unless the wolves were responsible.  They had a
reason to personally hate Fortitude.  He killed one of their leader's
bodyguards.  They could have found their revenge."

Faith shook his head.  "Rubbish.  There is no conceivable way any wolf
could have bested Fortitude in combat."

"No single wolf, no," Humility cut in.  "But a cadre of them, perhaps."

"It's a far fetched theory," Sam admitted.  "Much more likely the demons
are responsible.  Killing from the shadows is much more their style."

"Regardless of who's accountable, we have a tragedy to realize," Faith
said.  "Our brother has been taken from us.  Body or no body, we will duly
bury him in the crypt tomorrow night.  And from this point on, I advise all
of you to be exceptionally precautious.  Let it be known that any Seraph
who should decide to step outside of this Cathedral will be putting his
life in peril.  For all we know, there are enemies out there who are
systematically hunting down all the Seraphim.  Do not hand them the
opportunity to carry out their devious goals.  Now, let us adjourn."

*****

The next night I stood alongside the other Delectors in the Cathedral
crypt, the very bottommost section of the mostly subterranean Cathedral, as
the surviving Seraphim--dressed regally in their finest shining armor,
their swords by their sides--carried Fortitude's completely ornamental
sarcophagus to its final resting place among the dozens of sarcophagi which
had already been entombed here.  Only the Seraphim were buried in this
place, I had learned.  The Cherubim were buried back at the Ensis, but that
didn't stop all of the Cherubim living at the Cathedral to come down and
pay their respects, along with their Delectors, every last soul in their
nicest robes.

I had asked Sam why the stone coffin was engraved with the words "Amzi
Fortitude."  What did "Amzi" mean?  He told me that Fortitude's angel name
was Amzi, just as his was Samuel.  Fortitude was the position Amzi held
here on Earth, but there would be many more Fortitudes to come.  There was
only one Amzi, and now his soul had returned to Purgatory.

Faith had already given an extremely eloquent speech upstairs in the
Chapel, detailing just how significant the passing of this being truly was,
not just for the Flock, but apparently for God as well.  Faith started his
eulogy with the words, "Today, the Lord weeps," and continued along those
melancholy lines.  He assured all of the mourners that when God granted us
Heavenly asylum once more, Amzi would take a position alongside God's
throne, where all of the Seraphim held their positions of honor.

Now, dozens of onlookers holding white candles watched as the Seraphim put
an empty coffin to rest.  The majority of them were crying, regardless of
most of them never having known Fortitude personally.  In fact, it seemed
almost expected that the angels would weep, and I wondered if Sam was
tearing up under his helmet as he played the pallbearer.  He probably was,
he was always so emotional.

I, however, was definitely not crying.  Not even the slightest misting of
my eyes could be seen at the most stirring moments of Faith's eulogy.
Would they really expect that I would cry?  Fortitude was a fucking stud,
and I looked up to him like no other Seraph.  But it couldn't be said that
we had any sort of friendly relationship.  The guy generally seemed not to
even acknowledge my existence.  And besides, mostly why I respected
Fortitude as much as I did was because he was as strong as some mythical
demigod.  But the bro got himself killed by the demons.  He lost the fight,
he wasn't as strong as he should have been, and that's why he died.  Plain
as day.

Looking around at all the red, puffy eyes and distraught faces, I felt like
I was alone in my lack of sympathy.  Beside me, Fernando was sobbing.
Well, that was nothing new, but beside him, Cedric was a soggy mess as
well.  The angry fat Scottish man was sobbing, and I was bone dry.

Was everyone else overly sensitive, or was I just an unfeeling asshole?
Given that I was the only one in a ten square mile radius who wasn't
heartbroken, I began to feel strongly that it was the latter.  These were
good people, caring people, all of them.  And then there was me.

I tried to make myself feel some twinge of remorse.  Tried to force the
tears into my eyes.  It was pointless.  I just wasn't like these others.  I
wasn't a caring person deep down.  I realized that I just had rotten soul.
I could hide it from others, I could ignore it and choose to act
righteously, I might even be able to convince myself that it didn't exist.
But it always would.

I looked at Sam as he finished carrying the stone coffin and stood back
against the wall.  We had never finished our argument from the night
before, and now that all of this was happening, it seemed like we would
never resolve it.  I was still pissed off at him, but I couldn't exactly
pick a fight over something so petty when people were dying, as much as I
still wanted to.

I had been fucking him every night before bed since our return from
Myanmar, but last night we just sucked each other off, doing the bare
minimum required to keep us going, keep us strong.  Given how angry I still
was at him, I figured that's how our sex life would remain until he made it
up to me somehow.  Then again, how could he possibly make it up to me?  I
was doomed to live a painful, short life, and he couldn't reverse that in
any way.  But knowing there was no way to change things didn't make it any
more possible for me to stop blaming him.  In my mind, he was the only one
I could blame.

Later on that night, I attended a second funeral, this one completely
different in nature from the first.

It was above ground, on a large, sandy plain.  I came when the Delector
grave diggers were just finishing shoveling the ground back over the grave,
patting it down until it disappeared into the sand around it.  Torches lit
up the space, and a grouping of small stones placed in the shape of a cross
served as an impromptu grave marker.

The grave-diggers left as soon as their task was through, giving me a
respectful nod as they went and I came.

The only man looking down at the grave was Fernando, his face solemnly
downward as the wind blew the sand against his back.  He saw me coming and
let some warmth pass over his face.  "I'm glad you came," he said.  "I
wasn't sure you were going to."

"I said I was," I replied.

"Huh.  I still wasn't sure.  You and Sebastian weren't exactly close."

I didn't say anything.  I wasn't going to lie and pretend that I cared more
than I did.  "Nobody else is here?" I asked instead.

He shook his head, wiped a fresh tear from his cheek.  "No," he said.
"None of the other Delectors really knew him."

I looked up at the brightening sky.  "It'll be dawn soon," I said.  "Should
have done this earlier, when the Seraphim could have come out and pay their
respects."

Fernando shook his head.  "It wouldn't have mattered," he said, not
angrily, but accepting.  "None of the angels ever come to a Delector's
funeral, unless they are burying their own."

I waited for a few moments, feeling awkward.  "Are you going to say
something?" I asked him.

"The rights have already been said," he answered, never looking up from the
grave.

After another awkward spell of silence in which I regretted agreeing to
come out here in the first place, I asked him, "Do you want me to say
something?"

He shook his head.  "No," he said.  "No, no, please don't.  Just... Just
stay."

Without looking at me, he reached over and grabbed my hand.  I didn't know
how to act by this display of emotion, so I did nothing.  He cried more
freely then, and to me he looked weaker than I had ever seen him.

After a good ten minutes of the sobbing, he pulled his hand from mine and
wiped his nose with it.  "I guess we should be going back," he said
finally.  I had to keep myself from shouting in the affirmative.

He carefully stepped over to the stones forming a cross.  "He was my
friend," he said simply, and he started to pick up the stones.

"You're not gonna leave it?  So you can find it again?"

"Nope," he said.  "Can't leave any trace of our existence here.  This plain
is outside of the range of the cloakers."  He pointed out into the plain.
"See all of that?" he asked me.

I looked out.  The plain was monstrous, pretty in the blue morning light.
"Yeah, what about it?" I asked.

"All of this is a graveyard," he said.  "Many thousands of Delectors have
been buried under this sand."

"I don't see any graves," I said.  "Just sand."

"Because we erase any sign of the graves," he answered.  "Thousands of
bodies lie under our feet right now, forgotten forever.  All Delectors."

"Holy shit," I said.

"One day, you and I will be here too.  Lost forever like the rest."

Thinking about this, my future here, made me more certain than ever that I
didn't want to be a Delector.  I wanted to go out like Fortitude did, with
all the pomp in the world, and a flood of tears.  Not like this, out here,
with no one but Sam to say goodbye to me.  When I died, I wanted God to
weep.

Fernando picked up the torches, and carefully scattered away the sand over
the sand where the stones had left indentations.  When he had finished, he
said, "Let's go back."

When we had walked thirty yards or so, I looked back out into the plain.
Even in the morning sun, I could see no sign of the grave we had just left.
Sebastian truly did disappear into that sand.

*****

Life goes on.  In a couple days, the collective depression that clung hard
to the Inner Circle after Fortitude had passed paled and lifted.  The
return to normalcy was more then welcome for me, the one person who didn't
seem to grieve.

Early one night, soon after I had dressed, I was walking through the great
room when I came across Temperance heading for the stairs.  He had a bag in
his hand and a man on his back: Ollie, who seemed as bewildered but
amicable as always, was carried away by his Delector.

"Where you going?" I asked Temperance.

He turned and half-smiled.  "On a trip," he said simply.  "For a couple of
days."

"Where to?" I asked.

"A prostitution ring in Malaysia," he said, hoisting the slipping Ollie
back up his back.

"Ooo," I said.  "Sounds like my kind of trip!"

"Yeah, well.  It would be my kind too if I were frequenting the prostitutes
instead of reforming them.  Maybe I'll have to re-evaluate my policies."
He winked at me.

"You go on almost as many trips as Charity," I complained.

"Well, what can I say?  My services are in high demand, I guess."

"A couple days, huh?" I asked.  "What the hell am I gonna do to entertain
myself with you gone?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way," he said.  "You're just chock full of
imagination."  He winked at me again, and headed up the stairs.

I seriously doubted I would find anything to do with myself for the next
couple of days.  Temperance was the only one down here I considered
hang-worthy, and with him gone, I would once again be plunged into a life
of severe boredom.

Having nothing else to entertain me, I was forced to go shadow Sam that
night, as he went though the Cathedral taking care of business.  Once, on
our way out of the Chapel, we past Faith, and Sam said hello to the head
Seraph.  After Faith responded to Sam but ignored my presence, Sam asked
him if he had any thoughts about who would be taking the Fortitude mantel.

"I honestly cannot say as of yet," he said.  "Though quite certainly some
fitting resolution ought to be made with due alacrity.  Fortitude's
long-established function is that of guardian of the Seraphim as well as of
the Cathedral.  In these war-shaken times you have heaved us into, we
cannot hope to endure long without unearthing some immediate proxy."

"So," Sam said, patiently, "you'd like to have a replacement quite soon?"

"I'd like to have a replacement within a couple days, I say that with
conviction," he said, his voice annoyed.  "But will my desire dictate deed?
The one trait every Fortitude shared was their flair for physical
accomplishments.  Every Fortitude was the strongest of all the Flock.  Now,
I don't delude myself into thinking I can find a replacement that will
match the old Fortitude in strength.  The old Fortitude was doubtless the
strongest angel to ever have lived on this Earth."

"But he didn't start that way," Sam said.  "He started just as a man."

"Yes, but even as we made him, it was palpable to me that he would develop
into the most formidable angel to have ever lived," Faith said.  "I
recognize I can on no account expect to equal his pristine power, but yet,
it is an expectation that the new Fortitude be the mightiest angel
presently living."

"Who would that be?" asked Sam.

"That, observably, is what I am in the process of discerning.  As far as I
am aware, the strongest angel alive now is me.  I deem you, Justice, to be
secondary to me, although your vigor is vastly inferior to my own."

"Me, secondary to you?" asked Sam.  "But I am so young!"

"You have spent the majority of your youth in training, and that has served
you markedly well," Faith said.  "Though what will truly hinder you from
penetrating a realm of power anywhere near my own is your incapacity to
morph into metal, or at minimum a harder stone than weak marble."

"That is what I seemingly cannot learn to do," Sam said.  "But what of the
other Seraphim?  They must, by their very age, be stronger than I am?"

Faith shook his head, dismayed.  "Charity is younger than you and as feeble
as a faun.  Temperance and Chastity have never valued physical strength and
therefore have never sincerely trained themselves for combat.  And while
Humility once was exceedingly formidable, and still in a way is, his
disability will always be his demise."

"So," Sam said, "you hope to find a Cherub who is stronger than yourself to
fill Temperance's shoes?"

Faith nodded.  "I've already corresponded with Nathaniel.  He's dispatching
his five most stalwart Powers to me now, supposedly the strongest Cherubim
we have at our services.  It is from that consortium that I hope to make my
selection."

"Well, I will pray that all will go smoothly."

"Veneration is the path of the righteous," Faith said before walking away
from us.

As soon as we were alone and well out of ear-shot, Sam turned to me.  "I
have reason for concern," he told me.  "A selfish reason to wish that
Fortitude's replacement process not go as efficiently as it could."

"Yeah?" I asked, not really caring to hear Sam's every little concern.

"The old Fortitude's vote sided with me on the issue of following this Holy
War we're in the midst of.  The new Fortitude might not see along the same
lines.  A new vote could very well end up in Faith's favor, and any
progress I've made here could easily be undone."

Now he had captured my interest.  "So, you think Faith's gonna pick someone
who he can tell how to vote?  That fucking bastard."

"No, I would never think Faith would do something so obviously deceptive or
immoral," Sam assured me.  "He is an angel, after all.  But even if he does
not let new loyalties influence him in the least, there still is a good
chance that the new angel will happen to agree with Faith's views."

"But Fortitude's already dead," I said.  "Couldn't Faith just call for a
re-vote now?  You've lost your majority!"

"Seraphim law clearly states that if any proposal is brought among the
circle, only a majority can approve said proposal.  Otherwise it lies dead.
So, without a majority, Faith has no power to change anything."

I gasped suddenly.  "Oh shit, Sam," I said, just realizing something.  "If
Faith gets a voting majority, you don't think that he'll revote on the
issue of sacrificing me to that Seal thing, do you?"

Sam gritted his teeth.  "I have no doubt that if Faith ever had the
opportunity to vote for your sacrifice, he would do so.  That's how strong
his convictions are.  But you shouldn't worry about that.  In the case of
that vote, Fortitude voted in Faith's favor, remember?"

"Oh yeah," I said, recalling that Fortitude had voted to kill me along with
Faith and Chastity.  "That sonofabitch," I said, suddenly not so sad the
guy was dead.

"As long as Charity, Humility, and Temperance are around, you'll be safe,"
he said.  "All three of them are quite fond of you.  Now, I must hurry.  If
we do get a new Fortitude in a matter of days, and my power is to be taken
away from me, then I must do everything I can while there is still time.  I
have Powers all over the world investigating the blooddemons.  I must get
on the phone and tell them to hurry their work along."

"Hmm," I said.  "As much as I'd like to sit around all night watching you
talk on the phone, I think I'm gonna find some other way to kill my time
tonight.  Later, Sam."

*****

I was in the Cathedral entrance hall later that night when the five Ensis
Powers showed up, after making the same trek through the desert that Sam
and I had made.  While the angels looked around these new surroundings with
venerable awe, their human companions looked, for the most part,
travel-weary and uncertain.

I followed them as they were led into the same reception room that I had
first met Faith in.  Stood in the doorway, watching, as Faith appeared from
his balcony high up the room, and the five angels and their five men bowed
respectfully.

"Stand," he commanded him in his godlike voice.

They all did so, quickly.

"Tonight it is late, and all of you require refreshment.  Tomorrow, I
expect you'll have command of your full capabilities.  For tomorrow, each
one of you will face off against me in a simple duel of swords.  Any angel
who defeats me will collect a grand honor.  And the remainders will go back
home, to continue to serve our Flock at the Ensis.  That is all.  You may
now retire."

All of them bowed again as Faith left the room.  As they shuffled out past
me, there was much commotion and chattering.

"Fight a Seraph?" one of them asked.  "Is that possible?"

"What will the winner receive?"

And so on.  As the angels were led off to their rooms, I headed back
towards the Inner Circle.  I had a hungry pain in my stomach, and
unfortunately, only one person could fix that.

*****

The next night, I wasn't gonna try and survive the boredom following Sam
around would bring me, not when there was organized angel fighting going in
my own home.  Back when I used to watch TV, I watched a lot of boxing and
UFC fights on cable, though I had never seen one live.  I hoped that the
little tournament Faith was throwing would bring plenty of violence and
bloodshed.  My secret wish was that Faith himself would fall victim to some
deadly accident in the course of his fights, perhaps taking a competitor's
sword to the throat, or just tripping and falling into his own weapon.
Yes, I prayed for carnage as I headed upstairs to play spectator.

Hearing that the fights were to take place in the room the angels called
"the hall of saints," I headed in that direction, hoping that Faith would
not banish me from witnessing the event.

He did not.  I slipped in among the commotion of all the Powers putting on
their armor and practicing with their swords.  Faith wasn't even in the
room yet.  The hall was a large, square room with loads of empty space,
perfectly suited for combat.  It's one distinguishing feature were the many
stone statues of male saints along the walls.  Usually, the faithful came
to pray here.  Tonight, the only prayers were coming from the five angels
as they kneeled down and humbly asked God for his protection.

I quickly glanced over the five hopefuls, deciding myself who had the best
shot at winning.  I was pretty damn good at picking out the victor.

All of them were impressive in that way that all angels were: young, solid,
and extremely handsome.  But the five of them varied in height and
muscularity.

One especially stood out in this department.  A hansome Adonis with
sun-kissed skin and long, golden hair, he was the tallest among the five
and looked by far the sturdiest.  His golden armor on, his helmet in his
hand, he looked like the most picturesque angel I had ever seen, the one
who most matched the classical idea of what an angel should be.  I
discounted the other four more ordinary angels.  This one was the one to
watch.

Golden-boy's doting Delector handed the angel his sword and asked him what
his strategy was here.

"I'll go last, if I have an option," he told the man.  "Give me a chance to
study my opponent.  I've never lost to an opponent that I understood."

The Delector nodded his approval.

When they announced that the Seraphim were arriving, I slipped behind a
rather large statue of Saint Christopher in the back of the room, trying to
be as subtle as possible.  I didn't know for sure that I wasn't allowed in
the room, but I wasn't gonna stick my neck out there to find out.

>From a separate entrance, two robed and masked Seraphim made their
entrance and took their seats at the head of the room while everyone else
in the hall bowed politely.

I could tell immediately who the Seraphim were, even with the masks, and
neither one was Faith.  They were Chastity and Humility, both of whom were
apparently there to watch over the fights, just as I was.

A moment passed, and through the still silence of the room rang the clangs
of armor.  Faith entered, clad gloriously in shining silver so dark it was
almost black.  Trimmed in light silver and in red, it was definitely the
most handsome armor I had ever seen.

Some of the Powers' Delectors gasped a little as Faith came in, probably
not admiring his size, but feeling intimidated by his stature.  The man
held himself like royalty, and it was clear as he stood that he was the by
far the tallest individual in the room, surpassing even all of the saints.

Faith told the angels to rise, and they did.  "These duels will be the
simplest of sorts," Faith said to them.  "There will be no flying, no
leaving the room or making use of any of the room's objects, no involving
your Delectors or anyone else.  There will be no scoring of skin.  These
duels will be clean, bloodless."

"Damn," I said under my breath.

"Who has the will to challenge me first?" Faith asked.

One of the angels stepped forward immediately, someone other than my
Golden-boy.  "I do, my liege," he said confidently.

"Fine," Faith said.  "Begin."

Before the angel could even take an offensive stance, Faith lunged forward,
plowing the butt of his sword as hard as he could into the angel's stomach.

It was enough to severely dent the angel's armor, and the angel fell on his
back, violently gasping for air.  Apparently he had been hit right in the
sternum.

As the angel continued to gasp painfully on the floor and made no attempt
to rise, Faith said, "The first yields," and with that, a pair of Cathedral
Thrones dragged the angel back.  Shaking his head, Faith said, "Ego will
only get you so far.  Particularly when you are plainly the frailest of all
of your brothers."  He thrust his sword into the floor and faced the
remaining combatants.  "Who will face next face me?"

This time, none of them were so eager to volunteer.

"No one?" Faith asked after a long pause.  "Do you all forfeit the
opportunity?"

One of the shorter combatants stepped forward.  "I shall take my turn, my
liege," he said softly and politely in what sounded like a British accent
to me.

"Yes, facing your fate with composure," Faith said.  "Begin."

This time, when Faith lunged at the angel, he was ready for him.  He dodged
the attack, spun around, and hit Faith hard in the back with his sword.

However, that wasn't enough to even phase the king of angels.  He spun
around and hit the smaller angel with significant force.

This angel, however, was sturdier than the last one, and fought on.

In fact, the two of them seemed so well matched at first that the fight
began to drag on.  After a few minutes, I yawned with boredom and only half
watched the fight, my eyes more often than not drifting over to the
Golden-boy who stood waiting his turn.

"He yields," Faith said, finally getting the better of the Power.

Dazed on the ground, the angel waived aside the two Thrones who came to
drag him away, instead standing and bowing respectfully to the victor.

"You have great strength," Faith said.

"Thank you, my liege," the angel said, and he walked away.

"Who's next?"

Another Power volunteered, and was knocked down within half a minute.

The fourth Power withstood for a longer time, lasting a couple of minutes,
but his fighting seemed so graceless and full of effort, everyone must have
known he didn't have much of a chance of defeating Faith.  Soon, he was the
latest loser.

Finally, when all the other Powers had been defeated, my Golden-boy came
forward.  "If I may try my chances, my liege," he said, bowing before the
fight began.

"Yes," Faith said curtly.  "Begin."

All eyes were on this one, the only one who even came close to Faith's
stature and presence.  Even all of his competitors rooted for him.  He was
their last hope to prove that Faith was even beatable.

As Golden-boy ran forward, his bright armor reflecting every light in the
room, Faith simply parried and let the Power run right past him.  Spinning
around, Faith reached out and cut the bindings off the Power's helmet.
With a slight bounce of his sword, Faith popped the helmet off the other
angel, his long, beautiful hair pouring all around his face.

Blinded, the Power spun around, right into the face of Faith's swordtip.
Faith lowered it and brought it dangerously to the angel's throat.
Golden-boy froze in his tracks, defeated.

"He yields," Faith said, finally dropping the tip of the sword away from
this final combatant.  "Just as I feared," he said.  "None of you have
succeeded.  But do not be disparaged.  The gifts of the Lord are parceled
out on a scale peculiar to Himself.  All of you, be on your way."

The five Powers, all losers, bowed to the Seraphim before leaving the room
with their Delectors.  When the room was empty save for me and the three
Seraphim, Chastity and Humility stood up for the first time.

"That's it?" asked Chastity.  "You're sending them away, and we still do
not have a Fortitude!"

"These were the strongest of our Flock," Humilty said.  "Are you sure you
may have not mismeasured their aptitude?"

"Yes, I am wholly certain!" Faith snapped.  "Quite plainly, not one of them
overpowered me."

"But one of them came quite close," Humility pointed out.

"Yes, that one was nearly my equivalent," Faith admitted.  "But nearly is a
long ways from anything definitive."

"But clearly this one is stronger than any of the rest of us," Humility
said.  "Second only to you."

"Perhaps with more training..." Chastity offered.

"Perhaps with more training he will improve, yes," Faith said.  "But still,
it's quite plain to me that he does not have quite the promise to make a
truly fine Fortitude."

"May I humbly suggest," Humility said, "that we are not in need of a great
Fortitude at this time.  We had a great Fortitude, and he is no longer.  We
cannot hope to match his qualities.  In these times, with the constant
dangers the blooddemons seem to pose for us... in these times would not even
a mediocre Fortitude be sufficient?"

"No, Humility," Faith said.  "It is precisely in these treacherous times
that we are in vast need of true excellence among us.  This is no time for
mediocrity."

"But he came so close!" Chastity said excitedly.

"Yes," Faith said.  "If the best of the Flock cannot provide me with what I
seek, then I must look out to the world.  This is where we found the last
Fortitude, do not forget.  But in the meantime, it would be wise to keep
this one close in case a more apt candidate cannot be found.  If he manages
to improve his abilities, I shall reevaluate my verdict."

"I think that most wise," Humility said.

"I am psychically summoning him back," Faith said.

A moment later, the second Power to fight Faith came back into the room,
his young black Delector walking in the room with his head already bowed.

"Yes, my liege?" asked the angel.

"Shamir, is it?" Faith asked.

"Yes, my liege," answered Shamir.

I took my first long look at this Power bowed down before Faith.  He wasn't
the biggest angel, though he seemed no pushover either.  With his helmet
off and in his hand, I could for once see the angel's dark features.  He
looked Indian to me.  His wavy black hair was pulled back into a tight,
short ponytail.  He long black eyelashes made him look in a way childlike.
Fuck, the guy was the hottest Indian guy I had ever seen in my life.

"You did not manage to best me in combat," Faith told him, "yet, you
performed well above my expectations.  For that, you deserve some small
honor.  You will say your goodbyes to your four brothers.  You are not
leaving this Cathedral, as it shall become your new abode.  Here you will
remain, as the Cathedral's head Power.  All of us here will entrust you
with our lives.  That is the honor God has chosen to bequeath you today."

"Thank you, my liege," he said simply.

"Go now," Faith said.  "Have this chain that connects your Delector severed
tonight.  And live up to your responsibilities."

"I will, my liege.  Thank you again.  All of you.  But before I go, I have
just one question."

"Do not mistake me for one who has a patience for queries, but this once I
will allow it."

"Who is that boy hiding behind Saint Christopher over there?" asked Shamir.

I could feel the blood rushing into my face as Shamir pointed directly at
me, betraying my hiding spot.

"I saw him but grew perplexed as I could not read him," Shamir said.  "Yet,
clearly, he cannot be a blooddemon.  As I have been entrusted to protect
you, I figured I must say something about this odd one."

"Come out, I command it!" Faith yelled at me.

I stepped out from behind the statue, forcing myself to stand tall.

"Ah yes," Faith said.  "I should have noticed the trail of slime leading to
that statue.  It's just the local vermin, my son," Faith said to Shamir.
"You've done well pointing him out to me.  Now you are dismissed."

"Thank you, my liege," Shamir said, glancing once more at me before heading
out the door.

I glared at him as he left.  I liked my Golden-boy so much better than this
dark-skinned tattle-tale.

"What in God's name do you think you are doing in here?" Faith shouted at
me.  "You seem to think you have a Divine right to intrude everywhere you
are not wanted!"

"He needs to be punished!" Chastity yelled out.

"Wait a second!" I blurted out, not wanting to be assaulted like I had been
the last time I had crossed Faith.  "Nobody told me I couldn't be here!  I
never knew I wasn't welcome!"

"Then why remain clandestine behind a statue?!" demanded Chastity.

"Oh, certainly it's the Devil's gift to him to cloud his mind from us,"
Faith declared.  "Otherwise, we should already have strung him up many
times over by now for his lies and deceptions."  He turned back to
Humility.  "Are you sure you will not change your mind about this one, old
friend?" he asked.  "Have you yet realized that the only good use we'll
find for him is when we spill his blood all over the Seal?"

Humility took off his helmet.  "Oh, show him some mercy, Faith," Humility
said.  "He's just a boy.  And he's absolutely right, he's disobeyed no
direct order.  Let him be on his way."  Humility smiled at me and I smiled
back.  Dude had my back.

"Fine, go then," Faith said to me.  "The night is young, you must have
plenty of others yet to annoy.  Be off!"

I didn't wait around for him to change his mind, I got the hell out of
there as quickly as I could, silently thanking Humility from saving me the
pain of any punishment those other two bastards would give me, and swearing
I'd one day have Humility's back when he was in need of my help.

*****

Some days later, I was walking through the great room, minding my own
fucking business when a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed my ankle,
scaring the shit out of me.  Instinctively assuming I was under attack
again by one of our resident lunatic Delectors, I kicked the hand away and
freed myself.

"Brad, it's me!" came a whispered voice from the dark crack of what I knew
was Charity's room.

"Charity?" I logically asked.

"No, you space cadet, me!  Fernando!"  I saw his brown eye appear in the
crack of the door, down at the level of my shin.

"Well what the fuck are you doing on the ground in there?" I asked him.

"Oh my God, boy!  Just be quiet and come in here!"

He opened up the door for me and I slipped inside before he shut it again.

Darkness.

"I can't see shit," I told him.

He lit a match beside me, and used that to light a single candle.  It
wasn't much, but it was enough to see by.  Fernando was lying on his
stomach on the floor, something small and shiny in his hands.

"What are you holding?" I asked him, concerned it might be a weapon of some
kind.

"Oh, these?  A pair of opera glasses," he answered, holding them up so I
could see them.  They looked extremely old.  "I've been using them to spy
from here."

"Fuck, dude," I said to him.  "Is that what you've been doing locked in
here for days?  Spying on all of us?  You truly are fucked up, bro, and I
want the hell outta here."

"I haven't been spying on everyone for days, just for like the last five
minute, swear to God!"

"Well, what the fuck have you been doing in here then?"

He cleared his throat.  "You know.  Mourning, I guess.  For Sebastian and
stuff.  I've been holed up in here, going through all my old copies of
People and Us Weekly.  I've eaten through a dozen cartons of Chunky Monkey
before the kitchen staff refused to give me anymore.  I would be wearing
black if I owned anything that morbid."

"What the hell is Chunky Monkey?" I asked, confused and concerned.

"Forget about that and listen to me, Brad, cause this concerns you.  The
past few days something dawned on me, oh yes.  Charity has been spending
more and more time with Justice.  And, I think, I think they are totally
crushing on each other.  I mean, it's SO obvious."

"What?" I asked, disbelieving.  "You're insane.  They're angels, bro.
Seraphim.  They're not gonna hook up, it would be sacrilegious or
something."

"I know that," he said impatiently.  "Don't you think I already know that?
I know that they're not gonna hook up.  I trust Charity totally, he would
never be physically unfaithful.  But what's to keep them from developing
feelings for each other?  They are showing all the telltale signs."

"What signs?"

"THE signs!" he opened the door a small crack again and looked out into the
great room.  "Uh-huh, they're still over there by the bookshelves talking.
Look at those two!"  He tsk-tsked.

Fernando put his opera glasses to his eyes, while I stood over him and
peered out myself, seeing Sam and Charity talking across the room, but
unable to discern any major details.

"Look how much they are smiling at each other, see?" asked Fernando.

I squinted.  "Are they smiling or frowning?"

Fernando held up the glasses to me.  "Here, look at them!"

I grabbed the glasses and looked through, taking a moment to find my
targets.  "There they are," I said when I had them in my sights.

"Well?"

Sam and Charity were face to face.  Sam was smiling wide while he talked,
while Charity smiled back at him.

"Yeah, so they're smiling." I said.  "So what's that supposed to mean?
They smile all the time.  Sam smiles in his goddamn sleep sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Fernando said.  "Look, it's all in the body language!
Let me see that!"

He reached up and snatched the opera glasses away from me, peering through
them himself.

"Bro, I was using those," I said, annoyed.

"Here, take these, I have another pair somewhere," he said, giving me the
glasses back and running off back into the room.  A second later he
returned with his own pair.  "There, see?" he said as he re-aimed his
glasses at the two of them.  "See, the way Charity's face seems
over-animated right now?" he asked me.  "He only does that when he's
telling a joke."

"Big deal, so the guy's telling a joke," I said.

"But look there at Justice," Fernando said to me.

The joke over, Sam laughed heartily in response.

"See that?" Fernando said.  "Did you see it?"

"Don't you laugh at your buddies jokes?" I asked him.

"Nuh-uh, that's not a friendly-joke laugh.  Too exaggerated.  That's a
I-want-to-take-you-to-bed kind of laugh."

"That's ridiculous," I said.

"And look now!" Fernando yelled excitedly.

"What?  They've stopped smiling now."

"No, look!  Justice is talking, and Charity is listening attentively, but
see the way his hand is on his chin and his finger is on his lips?  See
that?"

"Yeah, so?" I asked.

"See the way he's rubbing his finger back and forth slowly along his mouth?
And now, see the way he's rubbing his moustache with it, all while he looks
Justice straight in the eye?"

"Yeah, he's just playing with his moustache, so what?"

"So what?  So what?  Charity knows that he has the sexiest fucking
moustache in the history of moustaches, that's what's so what."  Fernando
took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.  "And what, look there, tell me
what just happened?"

"Sam put a friendly hand on Chairty's shoulder," I said.  "That doesn't
mean shit, he does that to me all the time."

"Yeah, and you're his lover, Brad!  Ever think about that?  Your Domno is
touching my Domno in a highly inappropriate manner!"

"Wait," I said, my eyes widening.  "Look at that?  Look whose Domno is
touching whose now?  Charity just put his arm around Sam!"

"He put him in a headlock," Fernando said.  "A macho jocular gesture, or
just an excuse for more touching?"

"Nah, it's probably nothing," I assured him.

"But look now," Fernando said.  "Look now what's going on.  Your Domno is
pulling out a pack of cigarettes.  He's tapping it a couple times
suggestively on his torso."

"He does that all the time, he's a fucking addict."

"And he's putting the cig in his mouth.  But wait... what's this?  He's
padding down his pockets with no luck.  Seems he's forgotten his lighter!"

"Funny," I said.  "Sam always has one of those on him."

"And now, look who saves the day?" Fernando mocked.  "Charity, pulling out
his own lighter."

"I didn't know your Domno smoked," I said.

"He doesn't, he just carries a lighter to light candles with," Fernando
answered.  "Oh, and look?  Instead of just handing Justice the lighter,
he's going to hold it up and light the cigarette in his mouth himself.  Oh,
what a gentleman he is.  And what's this?  Justice just put his hand
against Charity's hand, cupping the flame to protect it from the wind.  How
clever he is.  If only someone would let him know that we are inside and
there isn't any wind.  Okay?"

"Okay, I admit, that last one was kinda flirty," I said.

"Well, why shouldn't they flirt?" Fernando said.  "They're the two hottest
angels in the Cathedral.  Of course they are going to be attracted to each
other.  How can the two of us compete with that?"

"You don't think they can't read your mind from here, do you?" I asked.

"Are you kidding?" Fernando asked.  "Do you see how far away they are?
They are like totally out of range."

"Holy fuck, look at that!" I said, my jaw dropping open as I watched.
"Your asshole Domno is feeling all over my Domno's chest!"

"And, oh no I did not just see that.  Your Domno did not just cop a feel of
Charity's package.  That is totally disgusting!"

"I cannot fucking believe they would do this!" I yelled.

"And look, there's more!" Fernando exclaimed.  "What is that?  Are they
moving in to kiss?  They are, they are moving in to kiss!  I don't believe
this!  Oh my God I can't look," he dropped the glasses and turned away.
"Just tell me they didn't go through with it."

"They did, those fuckers!" I said.  "They kissed!  A definite peck on the
lips!  And now, now... Fuck."

Fernando whipped back his glasses on and looked through the crack.
"Justice just lifted Charity up against him?"

"Yup," I said.

"And now... oh, no, Charity, please tell me you're not humping Justice's
stomach!  You are so much better than that!"

"Hey," I said, offended.

"Sorry, but Justice smokes.  That's, like, totally icky."

Finally, Charity jumped off of Justice.  They said something to each other,
and Sam went and grabbed his pad of paper from a nearby desk.  "Are they
getting back to business matters?" I asked.

"Probably not," Fernando said.

Sam started scribbling down notes on a paper as Charity talked.

"What's he writing down?" I asked.

"Charity's phone number?" he joked.  "A marriage certificate, maybe?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Sam tore the piece of paper off the pad.
Suddenly, both angels seemed to turn their heads in our direction and look
right at us.

"Fuck, do they see us?" I asked.

"No, can't be."

Sam held up the paper in our direction.  A simple sentence was written in
huge black letters across the paper: "You're not out of range!!!"

"Fuck!" I yelled out as Sam and Charity smiled cheekily and waved in our
direction before erupting into hysterical fits of laughter.

Fernando shook his head.  "I can't believe them," he said, a smile escaping
his lips.  "They are good.  They are SO good."

Fernando opened the door all the way and walked in their direction.  I
trailed behind.  Fernando might have been able to laugh off their
deception, but I would not be dismissed so easily.  I hated being the butt
of stupid-ass jokes.  Hated being deceived by someone I trusted.  I tried
to decide whether or not I should make a scene as I walked up to them.

"Hot diggety!" Chairty yelled out.  "We gotcha sonsofbitches!"  He started
laughing again.

"How long did you know?" Fernando asked good naturedly.

"We caught on right before he helped me light a cigarette," Sam said,
laughing.  He fished around in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out
his Zippo.  "Like I'd ever leave home without this sucker."  As Charity pat
Fernando on the back, Sam came up to me.  "Funny, huh?" he asked me.

I forced a smile, bottling up my hostilities.  "Yeah, real fucking funny,"
I said.  "You fucking had me good."

Sam gave me a toothy grin and grabbed my shoulder.  "You should have known
I would never fool around with Charity like that.  Charity and I, well,
we're brothers.  But that's all we are.  You're the only one for me, you
know that."

I smiled and nodded at him, but I wasn't convinced.

"We're gonna start in on our packing," Charity told Sam, his hands leading
Fernando back towards their room.

"We'd better do the same," Sam said to me.

"Packing?" I asked.  "What the hell for?"

"Charity and I decided we ought to do more for the Sudanese," he said.
"We're planning several overnight trips to try and reorganize the Powers we
have down there.  We're leaving for our first trip in a few minutes, and
you and Fernando are coming."

Of course.  A joint project between him and Charity.  An excuse to go on a
whole series of getaways with his favorite "brother."  I sure as hell
wasn't gonna be an active participant in any of their shit.

"They're overnight trips?" I asked.  "You'll be coming back tomorrow
night?" I asked.

"WE'LL be coming back tomorrow night, yes," Sam said.

I shrugged.  "Doesn't sound like I need to be there," I said.  "We can both
easily go one night without each other's cum and not get weakened.  I'll
stay here."

Sam's smile faded.  "Why?" he asked.  "Why would you want to hang around
the Cathedral instead of going to Africa?  Having an adventure with me?"

I shrugged again.  "I don't know," I said.  "I guess I'm just kinda lazy.
It sounds so, you know, busy and rushed."

"Busy and rushed?" Sam asked me.  "Bradley, you are hyperactive.  Busy and
rushed is your MO."

"I mean, it's not like my presence would help you in any way," I said.
"I'd just be a drag on you."

Sam shook his head.  He grabbed a hold of my hand, and bore into my eyes
with his deep blue ones.  "You listen to me," he said.  "You are never,
ever a drag to me.  I want you to come, Bradley, because I want you there
with me, at my side.  That's the only way I'll be satisfied."

I avoided his eyes, pulled my hand away, and turned around.  "Look, just
don't hassle me about this, okay?  You're making a bigger deal out of it
than it is.  Just respect me and let me stay."

He took a long moment to think.  "Alright," he said finally.  "I'd better
get packing, then."

*****

It was the first "night" since I had been with the Bridge that I had slept
alone, and it was a hard night to get through.  I was not at all used to
the empty bed, and our room always seemed to be freezing cold, though
usually I had Sam's magic skin to keep me warm.  This time I shivered
through the whole night.

But I would not regret my decision to stay, oh no.  I had fucking had it
with Sam, and just wanted my own space.

I was out of control horny almost from the first second I opened my eyes
the next evening.  Missing Sam's usual bedtime load was already starting to
get to me.  "I hate this fucking Delector curse," I said to myself as I lit
up a candle and started to make my way to the community bathroom.

Yawning as I went through the great room, I noticed Temperance walking
towards the stairs, Ollie riding him piggyback.

He smiled and nodded at me.  "What up?" he asked.

"Fuck, leaving on another trip already?" I asked him.  "Going back for
another round in the prostitution ring?"

"Nah, man," he said, stopping and turning to face me.  "The whores wouldn't
exactly welcome me back with open arms, after what I did to em last time.
Nah, not running outta here, just dropping Ollie off upstairs.  Seems they
got a room upstairs where a bunch a Delectors like Ollie are looked after
during the nights.  Thought it would be better for him.  Give him something
to do, you know?"

"Uh-huh," I said, completely uninterested in anything he had to say about
Ollie.

"Yup, later then," Temperance said as he headed for the stairs again.

As he walked away, I checked out his toned ass in those tight black pants.
Suddenly I was jealous of Ollie, I would have given anything to be on his
back, riding that hot fucker right then.

I headed for the bathroom and locked myself in.  My shower water was way
too cold to be refreshing, yet that didn't stop me from getting a hardon.
I wrapped my hand around my dick and started to jerk off, figuring that
would make me feel at least somewhat better.

Thinking simultaneously of Temperance's half smile and of his beautiful
ass, I pounded away at my dick, grunting occasionally.

Someone tried unsuccessfully to open the locked bathroom door.  Then there
was knocking.  "Anyone in there?"  It was Cedric's voice coming from the
other end.

"Yeah, Cedric, that's usually what a locked bathroom door means!" I yelled.

"You almost done in there?" asked Cedric.  "I gotta piss something fierce."

"No, I'm gonna be a while," I yelled back, annoyed as fuck.  "Go upstairs
to one of the other bathrooms."

"I'll just wait," he said.

I blocked Cedric out of my mind and forced Temperance back in, willing my
climax to come to me as soon as it would.

Before I could cum, there was more pounding at the door, this time harder.
"You almost done in there?"

"No, fuckwad!" I yelled out, pissed as hell now.  "I'm jerking off in here!
Give me some room to fucking breathe!"

"What did you say you are doing in there?"

"Jerking off, motherfucker!" I yelled, still stroking my dick.

I heard his footsteps move away from the outside of the door, and I thanked
God as I shut my eyes and continued the work at hand.

About a minute later, I was on the brink of an orgasm when there was a loud
CRASH.

Turning, I saw the wooden door slamming open, the lock having ripped
through its mooring.  Standing in the doorway was that pinhead fucker
Chastity, wearing his typical loincloth and with his typical crazed look on
his face.

"Self-indulgent sacrilege!" he said as he rushed into the room.  "Profane
debauchery!"

"Fucking hell, leave me the fuck alone!" I yelled at him, absolutely
astounded at his actions.

My outburst only angered him further.  He reached towards me, wrapped his
arms around me, and pulled me violently out of the shower.  As he did, all
of the nails sticking out of his arm poked into my skin, scrapping and
scratching me.

"Ouch, fuck that hurts!" I yelled, trying to shake him off, but only
causing the nails to rip into me further.

"Don't struggle, wretch!" he yelled back at me as he easily dragged my
naked ass out of the bathroom and into the center of the great room before
pushing me down on ground and pinning me on my back.

"Let me go!" I yelled.

"Cedric, get me the hammer!" Chastity ordered.

"Now, come on a second," Cedric stammered.  "Go easy on him, he's just a
child, he knows not what he does."

"Cedric, the hammer!" he yelled.  "He must be taught!"

Cedric retrieved the hammer from within their room with lightening speed,
as I continued to struggle unsuccessfully and worry what the hell this
bastard was gonna do to me.

As soon as Chastity had the hammer in his hands, he used the tail end of it
to grab a hold of a particularly large looking nail right in the middle of
his forehead.  Gasping painfully, he started to pull the sucker out ever so
slowly, blood dripping down into his eyes.

Finally, he had removed it, and as he dropped the bloody nail into his
palm, the bullet-hole sized wound in the middle of his forehead closed and
mended itself.

He quickly licked clean the blood from the nail, then looked down at me as
if I were some further delicious meal.

"No," I said, shaking my head.  "No, please don't do this to me.  I'm sorry
about jerking off, really I am.  I've learned my lesson."

"Quiet!" Chastity barked, not listening to me.

Sitting on my naked body, pinning it down, he grabbed my right arm and
pushed it against the floor.  He pointed at my right fist.  "Cedric, open
up the instrument of his blasphemy.  I dare not touch its dirtiness with my
clean hands."

"Yes, Chastity," Cedric said, using both of his hands to force my palm open
and facing up.

"No, please don't do this!" I yelled again.

Chastity lined up the fucking big-ass nail against the middle of my palm
and raised his hammer.

"You motherfucker, I'll kill you if you do this, I'll fucking kill you one
day, I swear it!"

Chastity just laughed.  With an expression of pure glee, he let the hammer
drop hard.

"AHHHHH!" I screamed in pure pain, arching my back hard as I felt the nail
rip into me.

Chastity raised the hammer and hit the head of the nail again.

"AGH!" I screamed.  "Fuck, FUCK!"

He hit it again, and again, and again.  Tears forced their way into my eyes
as I moaned in pain.

Finally, the nailhead was tight against my skin, holding my hand firmly
down into the stone floor.

"We're done here," Chasity said, standing up off of me.

"Let me go, you bastard!" I yelled out.

"Here you shall stay," Chastity said, "until the pain you are feeling leads
you to your salvation.  Cedric, come on.  Not a backwards glance."

"Don't leave me here!" I yelled, but Chastity just marched off towards his
room.  "Cedric, buddy.  You can't leave me here!"

Cedric stopped walking for a moment, but he did not look back.  He must
have feared he would turn into a pillar of salt if he did.  He walked
quickly forward into their room and shut the door.

"Help me!" I shouted as loud as I could.  "Anybody, help me!"

But nobody came.  I looked at my right hand.  Blood was covering my palm,
dripping onto the floor.  "Oh, fuck!" I yelled out, mad as hell and in so
much fucking pain.  I used my left hand to try and pull the nail out, but
all it ended up doing was causing another blast of pain to rock through me.
There was no way I was gonna budge this nail.

Okay, I had to calm down.  I had to assess my situation.

I was in the middle of the room, wet and naked, my hand nailed into the
ground.  It couldn't get much worse that that.

"FUCK YOU, CHASTITY!" I yelled out again, hoping to God he would hear me in
there.

I looked around me.  There was absolutely no objects within arm's or foot's
length that could possibly help me get free.  It seemed I would just have
to wait for someone to come and find me.

I quickly thought of who could possibly get me out of here.  Faith was
probably upstairs in the chapel, Humility and Temperance were God knows
where.  Of course, Sam, Charity, and Fernando wouldn't be back for many
hours.  Faith and Humility's Delectors were the only two within shouting
distance right now, and neither one of them had the capacity to come and
help me.

Feeling trapped and furious as hell, I pulled my hand away from the floor,
trying to yank the nail all the way through my hand and out the other side,
freeing me.  It only caused me to bleed more.  I let out another torrent of
curses.

Finally, with no options left, I collapsed flat onto the ground, panting
through the pain and praying someone would come rescue me.

The hour or so I waited, helpless like I was, seemed like days.  When loud
footsteps came down from the stairs above, they sounded like bell-strikes
from heaven.  I craned my head around to try and see who was coming.

My stomach lurched as I saw who it was.  "Faith," I said, realizing that he
was the last person who I was hoping for.  Even so, I was ready to suck up
my pride and beg a little for some help.  "Faith, I said.  Please, you have
to help me."

"Child," he said to me.  "If I intended to help you, I would have done so
as soon as I heard your first plea upstairs.  I have no intention of
undermining Chastity's corrections."

I was livid.  I screamed angrily, then yelled out, "Faith, you--"

"Uh!" he cut me off.  "I wouldn't finish that statement if I were you.
Chastity responded to your insolence with a little nail through the hand.
I would not be so generous."

"Little nail?" I asked.  "It's the biggest friggin nail I've ever seen in
my life!"

"Enjoy yourself, little man," Faith said, walking into his room and
slamming the door shut.

"Fuck you, Faith," I said under my breath.

I collapsed again on the floor, all hope of rescue fading fast.  My hand
was becoming numb to the pain, and the bleeding had slowed down.  Still,
that didn't make my predicament any easier to face.  As I lay there on the
floor, naked and bleeding, for at least a couple hours longer, one thought
kept on forcing its way into my consciousness, and that was that it sucked
ass to be a Delector.

I did not belong here on the floor like some weak wounded insect.  I was
meant for more than this.  I was meant to be a god like the rest of them.
I wasn't meant to serve the angels, to be their slave.  I was meant to be
one of the angels.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I opened my eyes.  Looking down over me, scratching his goatee, his lips
forming a half-smile, was Temperance.

"Temp, thank God," I said.

He glanced down at my naked body, lingering at the view of my dick.  Then
he looked at the nail in my hand.  He whistled.  "Damn, boy," he said.
"You sure are into some kinky shit.  I woulda never guessed, you seem so
Goddamn straight laced."

"Chastity did this to me!" I cried out.

"Did he?" he asked, as calm as ever.  "Well, shit.  Plain sucks, man."

"Temp, you have to fucking help me!" I yelled.

"Well, let's see now," Temperance said.  "If Chastity did this to you, he
musta had a reason."

"Hardly!" I said.  "I was just jerking off in the shower and he busted in."

Temperance laughed.  "Well, ain't nothing wrong with enjoying yourself some
in the shower," he said to me.  "Course, that's not how Chastity sees the
world.  But come on, you musta done something else to get a nail through
the hand."

"Well, I might have cussed him out a bit."

Temperance tsk-tsked, shaking his head.  "You cussed out Chastity, of all
angels?  Bad move, man.  Bad move."

"Yeah, okay," I said.  "Could you please just get this fucking nail out of
my fucking hand?"

"Well, I would, bro, you know I would," he said.  "But rules say if a
Seraph punishes a Delector, the other Seraphim can't interfere."

"Well, fuck the rules!" I yelled.

"Oh, no, no, no.  Rules, them good stuff, man.  Don't wanna live life
without rules.  Hold on, I'm summoning Chastity now."  Temperance shut his
eyes momentarily, and Chastity came out of his room soon after.

He trotted over to me and looked down.  "You want me to end his punishment
so soon?" he asked Temperance.

"That's what I'm asking for, yes," Temperance answered.

"I won't let him off unless he has a newfound respect for the Christ that
died on the cross," Chastity insisted.  "Unless he truly feels the pain
that Christ felt for all of our sins."  Chastity bent down towards my face.
"What do you say, Bradley?  Are you reformed and penitent?  Will you thank
me for taking the time and energy to help you as best I could?"

I stared Chastity in the face, biting my lip.  I knew I could just BS to
him and he'd let me go.

To the side, Temperance nodded at me.  "Go on," he said.

I should have been as polite and humble as I possibly could.  Instead, I
yelled out, "Fuck you and your fucking sick pain complex, you fucking
bastard."

Temperance let an amused smile slip over him, but Chastity was not pleased.

He shook his head.  "Clearly he is a long ways away from embracing Christ's
pain," he said.  "He will stay here until he does."  He turned to go.

"Chastity, wait up," Temperance said.  "You owe me a favor, and I think
I'll cash it in right here, right now."

Chastity turned around, annoyed.  "A favor?  I recall no such favor."

"Oh, I remember very clearly," Temperance said.  "Your old Delector was old
and quite sick, much too weak to help you with your, uh, your little
instruments of pain, there.  You were unable to hammer in all of the nails
yourself.  So, for half a year, I pounded the nails into all of your hard
to reach places.  Do you remember now?"

"When was this?" he asked.

"End of 1886, beginning of 1867," he answered as if this were completely
reasonable.

"Yes, I do remember that," Chastity admitted.  "But you said nothing about
your philanthropy being a part of some returned exchange!"

"Well, you should have assumed--"

"I assume that an angel's kindness is given without any ulterior intent!"
he yelled.

"Okay, fine," Temperance said.  "How about you show me some of that angel
kindness that you're speaking of right now?  I'm asking you for your
assistance right now."

He gritted his teeth.  "You would really choose to use this `favor' just to
release this sick man?"

"That's all I'm asking, yes," he said.

Chastity looked down at me, then back as Temperance.  "Done.  You may
release him.  But I will owe you nothing more from this point out.  And if
he merits it, I will not hesitate before punishing the boy again."  With
that, Chastity walked back into his room.

Temperance smiled down at me.  "Now, let's see if we can't get you
separated from that nail."

"Temp, you are my hero, man.  A total fucking stud.  Thank you so fucking
much."

Temperance kneeled down in front of my hand.  Grabbing the nailhead between
his two fingers, he tried to pull it.  "It's down too tight," he said,
shaking his head.

He tried another approach.  He bent down, taking the nailhead in between
his white teeth.  Clamping down, he pulled his head back hard.

I screamed as the nail was yanked out of my hand, clutching it immediately.
I was in a lot of pain.

Temperance spit the bloody nail out of his mouth, across the room.  He
licked the blood from his lips and smiled at me, looking at me hard in the
eyes.

"Great," I said.  "Now I've only got a fucking big-ass hole in the middle
of my hand.  Just what I always wanted.  If this hole was any fucking
wider, I could fit my dick through it."

"Oh, it's plenty big enough for that already," he said playfully.  "Come
into my room and let's see if we can't fix it up for ya."

Clutching my right hand with my left, I followed Temperance into his room.
He shut the door behind me, grabbed a white cloth from his dresser, and
told me to hold it against me hand.

"Lie on the bed and try to relax," he told me.  I did everything he asked.

>From under his bed, he retrieved his sheathed sword.  He slowly pulled the
blade from its shell and stood up over me.  "My blood will stop your own,"
he said.

Leaning down towards the sword, he stuck out his tongue and licked the full
length of the sharp edge of the blade.  Leaning up again, I could see the
streak of dark red blood all the way up his light red tongue.  Holding my
hand in place, he descended upon it, licking the wound in my palm hard and
fast.

The pain gave way to a tingly pleasantness as my skin mended instantly
under his blood.  He turned my hand around and did the same to the wound on
the back side.

"All better?" he asked me in his fucking sexy tone of voice.

"Yeah," I said, moving my right hand around.  "Yeah, I think so.  But damn,
even though the skin's healed, the hand is still damn sore.  Hurts like
hell."

"It'll be like that for a while," he said to me as he finished putting away
his sword.  "Nothing I can do about that.  Well, at least not in the long
term."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

Grinning, he walked over to his dresser, opened the bottom drawer, and
procured a six pack.  "I got you a gift last time I went out," he said,
bringing the beer over and dropping it in front of me on the bed.

"Holy shit," I said, looking at the label.  It was a fancy German kind of
beer that I had never heard of.  "Does it have alcohol and everything?"

"Lord yes," he said.  "It's not cold.  I would have kept it in the icebox,
but if Chastity had found it, he might've thrown it out."

"Isn't beer a little against the whole Temperance thing?" I asked him.

He laughed.  "Nah, that's why it's just a six pack.  Anything more would be
excessive."

I grabbed a bottle, wiping the sweat from the glass with my thumb.

Temperance tossed me an opener.  "Go ahead," he said.  "Swallow your pain
away."

I bent the cap off and took my first sip.  "Damn, it's been too long since
I had this taste in my mouth," I told him appreciatively.  Truth was, I
wasn't much of a fan of the exotic German flavor, preferring instead a good
ol' American brewery.  But beer was beer, and right now it hit the fucking
spot.  I took another sip.  Temperance looked on, laughing at me.  "What?"
I asked defensively.

"You sip your beer like a lady," he joked.  "Chug the sucker like a man."

Challenged, I upturned the beer, taking one extremely long drink.

"There ya go, that's what I like to see," he said.

When the last drop was gone, I tossed the bottle aside.  "Onto my seconds."

Temperance grabbed a small, battery-operated jukebox from the corner of his
room.  "Let's play some tunes.  Have a regular party in here tonight."  He
put on one of his death-metal CD's and turned up the volume.  It wasn't my
favorite, but hey, it was music.

Two hours later, when I popped the cap of my last bottle, I had long
forgotten the pain in my hand.  I lay beside Temperance on his bed, my eyes
blurred and my head dizzy.

"You know what I like about you, Temp, you fucker?" I asked, my words
slurred and slow.

"What?" he asked me, not looking at me.  He was playing with the bottle of
beer I had just finished, peeling off the label.

"You're the only angel who treats me like a fucking peer," I said.  "You
know, like a real person instead of a child.  Cause you know what bro?
You're my boy."

"Cheers to that," Temperance said, clinking my full bottle with the empty
one in his hands.

I took a long sip, while Temperance put the empty glass bottle to his lips
and faked a drink.  "Man," I said to him.  "It must suck watching me drink
all these beers.  What would happen if you had just one?"

"Ha.  You don't want me to do that.  I'd puke it up all over the place, and
that wouldn't be fun for either one of us."

"Wow," I said.  "You must really miss having a beer."

"Yeah man, sometimes I do."

Looking down at the bottle, he slowly licked around the glass rim, savoring
the last remnants of flavor the beer had left behind.  Recalling that
moments before it had been my mouth around that rim, figuring that he must
be licking some of my saliva, I started getting wood in my pants.  Damn,
the guy just oozed sex appeal.

"Sometimes I miss the tastes of all the foods," he said, dropping the
bottle on the bed.  "But God allows us angels to taste just one thing, and
it's the best tasting thing God ever invented.  Can't be sore about that."

Feeling drunker than ever, and extremely close to this angel at my side, I
decided to ask him about what was really on my mind.

"Temp, bro?  Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

I hesitated for a moment.  "How do they turn men into angels?" I asked.
"How is it done?"

He cleared his throat, and then started to roll out the textbook answer.
"A viable host body is found.  An angel soul is summoned from Purgatory
into this Earthly vessel."

"No, I mean, really," I said.  "What actually physically turns a man into
an angel?  There must be some step you aren't telling me.  How is it done?"

He paused.  "Do you really want to know this?" he asked.

"Yeah, bro.  Seriously."

"Okay then," he said.  "You're right on the money.  A human host body has
to be physically manipulated in order for the transformation process to
initiate.  This can be done by any one angel.  I myself went through this
step, as did every angel ever created."

"What is it?" I asked.

He grinned his half-smile.  "You're not gonna like this.  Like I said
before, too straight-laced."

"What is it?  Just tell me already!  Stop stringing me along, man, I'm
drunk as hell and I can't take it."

He chuckled.  "Okay.  I'll tell you.  The process is sexual in nature.  Big
surprise, eh?  Everything about us angels boils down to that one common
denominator."

"But Delectors mess around with their Domnos all the time, and none of them
turn into angels."

Temperance smiled.  "Think about it, bro.  What's the one thing you and
Justice have never done together.  The one thing if you asked him, he would
refuse to do."

I thought about it.  Even in my drunk state of mind, the answer was
obvious.  "Holy shit," I said.  "The guy has to get fucked up the butt?  By
an angel?"

"Bingo, man."

"Fuck," I said.  "How is that possible?  An angel's johnson is so fucking
huge."

"It's possible, believe me," he said.  "I mean, an angel can only get his
dickhead inside a guy, but that's all he needs."

"Still, an angel's dickhead is fucking thick as hell," I said.  "How can
that possibly fit?"

He winked at me.  "It fits, man.  It fits."

I shook my head, highly disturbed.  "Well, it must be as painful as fuck.
What is it, the angel's cum up a guy's ass that turns him?"

"Yup."

"So couldn't you just, like, stick some of the cum up there without getting
skewered?"

"Ha!  No, bro.  The angel has to be completely inside the guy when he
blows, and the whole load has to stay inside of him.  In order for this to
happen, the angel's dick has to stay inside the guy's ass, plugging it up
for a good hour or more before any changes take place.  Otherwise, the
process won't start.  Nothing will happen."

"Fuck," I said.  "Fucking brutal."

I immediately changed my mind about wanting to be an angel.  Too much
fucking pain, and I was not bottom, that's for damn sure.

Temperance laughed at me.  "Well, you asked, didn't you?"  He put a
friendly arm around my neck and pulled me up against him in the bed.  "Like
I said.  You're too straight-laced to handle it."

My dick shot up again upon this contact.  Oh God, how I wanted him.  I
turned and looked into his face.  His smile slowly faded as he saw the look
in my eyes.  His eyes returned the passion, the intensity.  I looked at
those sweet red lips, knowing I was about to kiss him.

Temperance jumped up off the bed, holding his head with his hand.  "Justice
and Charity have come home," he said.  "They're in their rooms now.  It's
almost morning anyway, bro.  You'd better get to bed in your room, and I'd
better go get Ollie."

Groaning, I got up off the bed, steadying myself.  "Fucking drunk-man's
shit balance," I said.

"You need help getting back to your room, bro?" he asked me.

"Nah, I'm good.  Thanks for the party, bro."

"Let's do it again real soon," he said in his sexy voice, winking at me as
I left.

I left the room, using the wall to guide me along as if I was Humility
himself.

Finding my way into my room, I saw with blurred vision Sam unpacking his
bag.  "Hey, Sammy," I said as I walked over to the bed, trying hard to look
as sober and stable as possible.  I did not want Sam to know that I had
been drinking with Temperance just then.  Even if technically we hadn't
done anything wrong, I knew as well as Sam would that there was some small
betrayal involved in my actions.

"Good to see you, Brad," Sam said to me.  "I missed you while I was gone."

I nodded.  "Me too, man.  Me too."  I startled struggling to pull my shirt
over my head, getting a little stuck in the process.

"Whoa man, need some assistance?" Sam asked me playfully.  "I never knew
taking your shirt off could be so difficult."

"It's not difficult, man," I said, trying to play it off.  "You're crazy."
I pulled hard, yanking the shirt off over my head, but almost losing my
balance in the process.

"Whoa Bradley," Sam said.  "Are you drunk or something?"

"Pchhhh.  Nah, man.  I'm not drunk.  I'm cool."

"You're cool, huh?"

"Yeah, cool like ice, man."

"Yeah, you look real cool there, Brad.  Real cool."

"Man!" I whined.  "Stop jabbing at me and come over here and give me a dick
to suck.  It's late and I need my meal."

I undid my belt and pulled my pants down to my ankles.  Sitting my bare ass
down on the bed, I tried to get my pants off all the way, but couldn't seem
to manage to.

"Usually it helps if you take your boots off before you take off your
pants," Sam chided me.  "Just something you pick up after a hundred years
of living."

I glared at him.  "Don't look at me like that, Sam.  I ain't drunk, okay?"

He walked over to me.  "Get up here and kiss me," he said, pulling me up
himself and putting his lips to mine.  His tongue explored my mouth.  Then
he pulled back, nodding.  "Beer, Brad.  How much did you drink?"  He walked
away from me.

"I didn't have any beer, you're imagining things."

He laughed.  "Bradly, your mouth tastes like the inside of a keg."

"I didn't--"

Taking a step towards him, I must have forgotten that my pants were around
my ankles, because instead of walking, it was more just me falling, onto
the ground, real hard.

"Fuck!" I yelled.  "Okay, so I had a six pack."

"Alright then, you inebriate," Sam said understandingly, leaning down and
picking me up off the floor.  "Let's get you onto the bed before you kill
yourself.  Let's strip you down, and let's suck each other off before you
pass out or puke."

"Good plan, Sam," I said.  "I like a man who can take action."  After a
moment, I told him, "Welcome home."

"Yeah.  Can't say I've had better welcomes in my lifetime, but thanks
anyway, Bradley."

*****

Some days later, I stood in the shower.  I had been in there for a half
hour, far longer than the five-minute military showers I usually took.  And
this time I wasn't jerking off either.

For the millionth time, I ran my index finger along my asscrack, feeling
the rim of my asshole and going no further.  It was so small, I reasoned.
It would never permit any large object to enter.  And it certainly received
no pleasure from the idea of any foreign object bursting its way into its
passage.

I was certainly no bottom, and never would be.

I almost turned off the water right then and left the bathroom.  But
somewhere inside, a determined voice reminded me that this wasn't about
sexual pleasure.  This was about getting what I deserved.

I thought over all the multitude of reasons why I hated my apparent lot in
life, that of Sam's slave.  From the time I was a small child, I was a
natural leader of others.  I was good at ruling them and I loved to do it.
How it was that I ended up here, forced servant of an entire species of
beings seemed to elude me.  I just knew that it was very, very wrong.

Lathering up my forefinger, I stuck the digit into my hole, up to my
knuckle.  The result was more uncomfortable than painful.

I had been born something special, I had been born the Eversor.  While once
this fate scared me, I knew better now.  If only I had followed its path, I
would have certainly ended up a power to be reckoned with.  I would have
ended up immortal.  Perhaps even a god.

The pain came as I pushed my finger all the way in.

Instead, I followed a man out of foolish love, a man who led me here.
Discarded my fated potential as trivially as a cigarette butt.  Forfeited
my immortality and instead gave me a fate of sickness and madness and
complete idiocy.  And most of all, of weakness.  Horrible, useless
weakness.

Biting my lip, I started to insert my middle finger into me as well.

Sam had been a kind master, but that's all it boiled down to, a
master-slave relationship.  Faith and Chastity constantly threatened my
life, and I would always be unable to defend myself.

I pushed the second finger all the way in, gasping a little in the process.

But all of that would change.  I would make it change.  I would take what
was rightly mine, my immortality, my power.  I would take it from them, and
they would be unable to stop me.

I stuck the third finger in with a grunt.  I hated this, but I could do it.
All this amounted to was physical pain.  That I knew how to endure.

Pain was nothing.  I was Bradley fucking Wheeler, and I could do anything.

Taking my fingers out of my ass and washing them off thoroughly, I knew I'd
go through this routine every day from now on until my hole was stretched
enough and I was ready.  I hoped it wouldn't take long.  I was already
getting so impatient.

I wanted my power, and I wanted it now.

*****

Sam told me he and Charity were going on another overnight expedition to
Africa that weekend.  "I sincerely hope you will choose to join me this
time," he told me.

"No, Sam.  I don't feel like it."

"That's what you told me last time!"

"And nothing's changed, has it?"

"Alright, fine," he relented.  "Stay here and rot if you must."

Later than night, I asked Temperance if he'd be here this Saturday night.

"Yeah, man, what's going on?" he asked me.

"Nothing special," I said.  "Just thought we could party it up like we did
last time."

"Cool man, sounds like a blast."

"Just be sure and get me another six pack if you could."

He agreed, assuring me he'd pick some up on a night trip he was making to
Istanbul.

Saturday night, we were alone in his room again, the music blasting from
his shitty CD player.  "Did you score the beer?" I asked hopefully.

He half-grinned.  "I scored something better," he said.  He reached into
the front pocket of his tight black pants and pulled out a ziplock bag,
tossing it towards me on the bed.

I lifted the bag, looking at the abundant amount of dried green herb
inside.  "This isn't what I think it is, is it?"

He shrugged.  "I can't read your mind anymore, bud, but I'd venture to say,
yes, it is."

"You brought me weed?"

"The finest weed Seraphim money can buy," he cooed.

"Goddamn, you're awesome, you know that?" I asked him.  "It's been so long
since I had my last herb.  But, uh, you sure you're allowed to give me
this?"

"As long as Justice doesn't protest," he answered.  "Hey, weed is a far cry
from dust.  And I don't buy into that right-wing bullshit that it's all a
slippery slope.  It's less addictive than your common cigarette, probably
better for your health than the six-pack of beer that I brought you last
time, so who gives a fuck if you have a little fun?"

"Not me, that's for damn sure," I said.  "Got any rolling papers?"

Temperance pulled out a sheet of paper and tossed it to me.  Opening the
bag, I took a deep whiff of the stuff, its pungency filling my nostrils.
"Oh man, that is good stuff," I said before spreading the weed over the
paper and starting to roll it.

"Bro, you roll a joint like shit, haven't you done this before?" Temp
asked, taking the paper away from me and starting to fold it himself.  When
he had rolled it in his meticulous way, he licked slowly all the way up the
side of the joint.

"Don't you know you're not supposed to lick another man's joint?" I asked
him.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, smiling.  "You scared of my spit?  Think I might
infect you with something, is that it?  Well, if my memory is right, it
wasn't so very long ago that your tongue was lapping up my fucking cum,
with no smart-ass remarks, I may add.  `Sides, I bought this weed, so
technically this joint belongs to me."

"Well, I'm gonna smoke it," I said, snatching it away from his hands.  "You
made it so pretty and neat, I can't resist it."  I stuck it in my mouth,
still thinking of his still wet saliva upon it.  I wanted so badly to taste
him, to taste his entire body, and yet this tiny bit of spit was the most I
had ever gotten from him.  Still, it made my dick tingle.

"A light?" he asked, grabbing a candle and lighting the joint in my lips
with its flame.

I took my first deep puff, holding it in as long as I could before letting
it out.  "Damn!" I yelled afterwards.  "This shit is the shit."

He smiled.  "Glad you like it."  He sniffed the smoke I had just blown his
way, perhaps with some longing.

"Man, are you sure you don't want a puff?  I mean, it's not like you would
puke from this."

He shook his head.  "I would if I could, but angel law forbids it."

"Why does it matter?" I asked.

"Because drugs and chemicals have a much larger affect on angels than they
would for you," he said.  "Because angels get chemically addicted far more
easily than men, and because, if not fed, those chemical addictions are
often deadly.  It's a waste of God's gift."  He looked at me and smiled.
"You, however, are a man.  You have no reason to enjoy yourself, so go
right ahead."

"Fine by me," I said, exhaling another big puff of weed smoke.  The
relaxed, tingly calmness was starting to settle into my body, a feeling
that, as pleasant as it was, was no match for the euphoric physical touch
of an angel.  But Sam was gone, and the weed would have to do.  I burned up
that joint as fast as I possibly could.

Lying back on the bed, my head dizzy, I was in a silly, care-free mood.
Temperance came and lied down beside me.

"Temp, can I ask you a personal question, bro?" I said.

"Oh no, not again with the personal questions," he said jokingly.  "You
always get all personal when you're fucked up."

"Shut the fuck up and listen to the question, fool," I said.  "Are you a
top or a bottom?"

He chuckled.  "What is this, truth or dare?  Fucking junior high?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Well, I'm not a top, because I can't be, which you obviously must know by
now."

I nodded.  "So you're a bottom?"

He gritted his teeth.  "I didn't say that.  Honestly, I don't much care for
being fucked.  Ollie doesn't fuck me because he was never a top.  None of
my Delectors ever were."

"So, what's your answer?" I asked impatiently.

"Neither," he said.  "Cause I don't do anal."

I shook my head, the potent weed already starting to confuse me.  "No, no,
no.  You miss the point of the question.  Let me rephrase: IF you were a
man, would you be a top or a bottom?"

"A top," he said.  "No contest."

I nodded, thinking he was cut from the same cloth that I was.  After a
moment of thought, I asked him, "Can you get me something to drink from the
kitchen?  Something cold?  I'm fucking thirsty."

"Ain't you got legs, bro?"

"Yeah, but I bet I could barely walk after smoking that shit."

"Alright, gimme a sec," he said.  "I'll be back."

He left the room.

Hurriedly, I took the last puff of the joint.  I was going to need every
bit I could get tonight.

I kicked off my shoes and unbuckled my belt.  Chucking my pants and
underwear on the floor, I pulled off my shirt as well.

When he came back with a cold soda, I was sprawled face down on his bed,
spread-eagl and completely naked.

"Bro, what the fuck?" he asked me.

I couldn't look him in the eye, so I buried my face into his pillow
instead.  "You know you want me," I told him.  "I see the way you look at
me.  I know what you want.  Take it, man.  Take it from me."  I raised my
ass into the air.  "Fuck me, Temperance.  Fuck me and make me like you."

I couldn't watch for Temperance's response, I was so fucking embarrassed at
what I was begging him to do.  So I kept my face in that pillow as he
responded with nothing but silence for a good while.

But then, encouragingly, I felt his finger on my back.  Along my spine,
tracing it down towards my ass.  "You look so fucking hot to me right now,"
he said in his sexy growl of a voice.

He traced his finger down into the top of my crack.

"Ollie could never compare to your sexy body," he said.  "Or your amazingly
alluring ass."

He pulled the finger down until it touched my asshole, tickling me there.

Then, he pulled his hand away from me.  "But my answer is no."

He might as well have stabbed a dagger into my back.

"You do not know what you ask for," he said.

I turned around to face him, angrily.  "I know exactly what I'm asking
for!"

"Then you are fooling yourself if you think you will ever get an angel to
do this.  It is absolutely, totally, and utterly forbidden.  No matter how
much we way want to, this is the one thing we angels must never do."  He
took a deep breath.  "Follow my lust in this instance and I would likely
end up dead, killed at the hands of the others.  Only the Head Dominion,
Nathaniel, makes the new Cherubim angels.  Only Faith makes turns men into
Seraphim.  This absolutely is not done by anyone else.  No matter how
alluring you may be, no matter how hard you try to seduce, no angel in this
entire flock will ever succumb to you.  This I know as a fact, and this I
tell you as a friend, so you will not embarrass yourself further."

Giving up all hope of changing his mind, I didn't even take the time to put
my clothes back on.  I just scooped all of them up as I got out of the bed
and headed for the door.

"Bro, I'm sorry," Temperance said.

"Yeah, well me fucking too.  Go to hell, man."

I slammed the door in his face.

"Well, fuck," I heard him say from inside his door as I headed through the
great room.

Cedric was in my path, polishing the wood of the dining room table as I
stormed through.  Stopping what he was doing, he began to leer at my
nudity.

"Jealous of something you don't got?" I asked angrily.

"Why on earth are you naked?" he asked, dazed.

"Just get the fuck out of my way, fat-ass!"  I yelled so loud and so
angrily, that he actually jumped away from me.

Slamming my bedroom door shut behind me, I threw my clothes down and just
let out a primal vicious, angry scream.  My scream went on for at least ten
seconds before my throat started to hurt.  I jumped on the bed and started
to punch my pillow.  I was fucking furious.

Then, the despair kicked in.  I realized all my hopes had just been
crushed.  I was going to die here, crazy and sick and wrinkled, after a
long miserable life as someone's fuck slave.  I couldn't take that.  I'd
sooner die.

Tears forced their ways into my eyes, and I forced them back.  I was not
gonna cry.  I was not gonna be weak.

I was Bradley fucking Wheeler, I remembered.  I didn't give up so easily.
Eventually, I always got my way.

It was just a matter of thinking hard enough until the elusive solution
came to me.

Alone in the dark, I started furiously thinking up my one way out.

*****

A couple weeks later, Sam found me on our bed reading my bible.
"Everything's set for our trip to Manila," he told me.  "Pack for rain."

"I'm staying here," I said simply.

"What?" he asked.  "I thought we talked about this?  I'm leaving for three
nights, Brad.  That's too long for me to leave my Delector behind.  Your
presence is not optional this time.  You've been sitting around on your
lazy ass for weeks down here.  Time to get some fresh air, brother."

I shook my head.  "I'm not going," I quietly insisted.

"You must, Bradley.  You know what happens to us when we're apart for so
long.  You will be tortured, and I will lose my strength, something that I
will not be able to spare on this trip."

I looked at him and got up off the bed.  "I already planned for this," I
said, going to the dresser and opening my drawer.  I pulled out several
completely sealable plastic cups, a couple small and a couple very large.
"Semen keeps as long as you keep it cold," I said.  I lifted up one of the
smaller cups.  "I'll give you my cum in here.  That should last you until
you come back."  I pointed to one of the much larger cup.  "You'll cum for
me in here.  See?  I don't have to go, and all is dandy."

Sam shook his head.  "Have you ever tasted refrigerated semen?" he asked
me.

"Why the fuck would I ever do that?" I asked rudely.

"Well, you don't want to.  It does not go down smooth.  And its effects on
our bodies just don't match what warm, fresh semen does for us."

"Well," I said, jumping back on the bed and grabbing my bible, "it'll have
to do."

"Come on, Bradley," Sam urged, giving me a friendly smile.  "Charity isn't
coming on this one.  I'll be all alone out there this time.  I need you
with me."

I shook my head.  "Maybe next time," I said.  "I'll leave my cum in the
fridge, ready for you when you leave."

His smile faded.  "You can't pout forever, you know," he said.

"Good day, Sam," I said, never looking away from my bible.

"Yeah," Sam said with frustration as he turned to leave.

*****

Halfway through Sam's absence, I was shaky and hungry and horny as fuck.  I
knew what I needed to keep me going, making a beeline for the kitchen.

Two huge plastic cups in the frig were filled with Sam's cum, more than
enough for the weekend.  I popped the top off of the first one and looked
at the creamy liquid inside.

I took a sip of the cold cum and cringed afterwards.  Sam was right,
drinking this stuff was not exactly pleasant.  Still, that small sip was
enough to relieve the pain in my stomach slightly.  I knew it was
effective, so I plugged my nose and drank down half the friggin cup like a
champ.

Putting the rest back where I had gotten it, I noticed Temperance leaving
his room and walking towards the stairs.  After the night that he had made
a total fool of me, he had tried a couple times to make conversation, but
each time I cut him off.  Since then the two of us pretty much totally
ignored each other.

Now, as I watched him, he had his headphones in his ears and he didn't even
glance my way as he made his way to the stairs.

This is just what I had been waiting for.

I waited for a moment until I was sure he wasn't coming back.

I grabbed a candle and I walked over to his door.  Looking around the great
room until I was sure I was alone, I quietly opened the door, entered, and
shut it behind me.

The room was dark, but I had been expecting that.  Unlit candles were all
over the place, but I didn't dare light any, or he might figure out that I
had been here.

I walked over his dresser and opened the top drawer, giving me access to
Temperance's little pharmacy.  Quickly, I began lifting all the bottles and
reading labels.

Most of the pills were the kind that would be traded all over the streets
of LA, all pills that I had experimented with at a time or another.
Narcotics and tranquilizers.  I got some of the latter group.

There were also more commonly prescribed drugs: allergy pills,
anti-depressants, antibiotics.  I found a bottle of generic Viagra and took
a bunch of those.

With my pocket filled with little white pills, I put all the bottles neatly
back exactly where they had been, and shut the drawer.

Out of nowhere, I felt aggressive arms around me and a tongue driving
inside my ear.  But this time I was ready for this.

"Ollie, get off, man!" I yelled, pushed the crazy man back.

Ollie moaned at me, but tried nothing further.

I grabbed my candle and opened the bedroom door a crack, spying out to see
if the great room was still empty.

It was.  I left Temperance's bedroom, and shut the door behind me.  No one
would ever know I had been there.

I went back into my room and started to grind the pills.

*****

At the end of the next night, I went to bed early, a couple hours before
the sunrise.

Sam came in the room an hour or so before dawn, putting down his luggage.
"Brad, I'm home," he said, nudging me softly.  "Wake up."

I moaned.  "Sleeping," I said grumpily.

He nudged me harder.  "It's still early," he said.  "Get up for a little
bit and I'll tell you about my trip."

"Tomorrow," I said.

He sighed.  "Well, at the minimum I need your cum," he said.  "I've gone
too long without it as it is."

I yawned.  "Too tired.  Headache.  I made another cup for you in the
fridge."

"I don't want anymore semen on ice, Brad," Sam said.  "I want the real
thing.  Fresh and warm."

I shook my head.  "Tomorrow," I said.  "Goodnight."

"You're impossible sometimes.  You know that."  Groaning, he left the room.

He came back in a half hour later, stripped naked, and hopped into bed with
me, keeping on his side, not holding me like he usually did.  I tried to
stay awake, listening to his breathing as it became more drawn out and
steady, but I drifted off to sleep.

*****

I jolted myself awake.  Sleep was not a part of the plan.

It was sometime in the middle of the day.  Beside me, Sam lay on his side,
facing away from me, the sheet pulled up to his waist.  I could hear by his
loud, deep breaths that he was in a deep sleep, which was not unusual for
him during the day.

But usually, with enough prodding, you could wake him.

"Sam?" I asked quietly.  No response.  "SAM!" I yelled.  Nothing.

I poked at his bare, muscular back.  "Sam," I said again.

Still nothing.

Feeling braver, I punched him hard in the back.  That would normally be
enough to wake him, but today, he slept without the slightest hint of any
disturbance.

I grabbed a hold of his side and pulled his body towards me until he was
laying on his back.  His head was tilted back a bit awkwardly, his mouth
wide open as he started to snore.

I straddled his chest and slapped him lightly on the cheek.  "Wake up!" I
yelled.  I slapped him again, harder, and again.  Nothing.

Finally, making a fist, I punched him as hard as I could across the cheek.
The guy didn't even pause his snoring.  He was practically in a coma.

So far, so good.

I got off of him and pulled the sheet down, throwing it off the bed.  He
lay there on his back, completely naked and completely relaxed.
Unfortunately, his dick was just as relaxed, soft and a bit curled up, like
a snake or a garden hose.

Fuck.  I had known the tranquilizers would likely make him unable to get
hard.  So I had mixed in all that Viagra to try and even the tranq's out.
But apparently the Viagra was having no affect.

I picked up his soft appendage in my hands and started to roll it around
with my fingers.

Nothing.  I sighed.  I knew that this was unlikely to work.  But it had
been worth a shot anyway.

Then his dick jumped.  Pulsed in my hands.

It was like after rubbing two sticks together forever, I just got my first
spark.  I was ecsatatic, and I worked his member over harder and faster
than ever.

In my hands, his dick started to grow.  My plan had worked after all!

Finally, his dick was completely hard, lying up along his stomach and his
chest, pointing towards his head.

Now came the real challenge.

I had been finger-fucking myself everyday for weeks now, and gotten the
point where doing so no longer hurt my asshole.  But Sam's dick was a world
away in size from my fingers.

Just the thought of putting that thing inside me was causing my heart to
pound anxiously.  I reminded myself that I had already survived a nail
through the hand.  Hell, I had been cut to shreds by spikes in that goddamn
Seal contraption.  This pain was nothing in comparison to those times.

The only difference, I realized, was that in those incidences the pain was
forced upon me, however much I tried to avoid them.  This time, however, I
would have to inflict the pain upon myself.  It was quite a different kind
of courage to make your body give in and let the pain come.  It was
something I had never been good at, which is one reason why I hated doctors
so much; the expectation that no matter what was done to you, you would
stay complacent.

I was thinking too much.  I straddled Sam's body, squatting over him.  With
my right hand, I grabbed his hard dick and held it up in the air.  With my
left hand, I parted my asscheeks and directed the his dickhead towards my
hole.

The sensation was actually pleasant when the tip of his dick rubbed against
my hole for the first time.  Like usual, he was already dripping with
precum; it was covering his head completely, creating a far better form of
lube than anything I could have poured out of a bottle.  The magic liquid
touching my sensitive asshole tingled with alive, pleasurable sensation.
My dick actually got semi-hard just from that.

Holding his dickhead against my hole, I started to let my weight pull my
body down, his steely member starting to put pressure against my ass.
Instinctually, I clamped up, but chiding myself, I concentrated on relaxing
my hole and letting him in.

But the width of his dick was just too large.  It was if I had tried to fit
my whole fist inside my ass... it would have been impossible.

I realized I was only slowly moving down, applying the pressure at a
gradual pace.  If I moved down hard, with some force, maybe I could get it
in.

I bit my lip, counted to five, and sat down hard on top of the fucker.

I cried out in pain as it felt like his dick just ripped into my body.  It
was a painful shock, and I knew that my hole just wasn't large enough to
support his size.  And yet, his dickhead was now halfway inside me.

I left it at that point for a while, trying to get used to the feeling.  I
found that the precum he was continually pouring out inside of me was
actually having its special affect on my insides.  The pain soothed away
slowly, and my ass muscles relaxed.  Suddenly I felt as if I could do this.

I sat down further, taking it slow this time, until his head was all the
way inside.  Afterwards, I took a deep breath of relief.

His dick felt far bigger inside of me than it looked, which was already
monstrous.  But as I adjusted to the feeling, as I felt his precum tingle
inside me, I started to see how someone could find this process
pleasurable.

I pushed his dick inside me until I could fit no more.  I knew that I would
have to do more than just hold him inside of me; he had to be brought to
orgasm.  I had to make him cum.

Swearing that I would never take it up the ass after this point, I started
rocking up and down on him, letting the thing slip inches out, inches in,
and inches out again.

Amazingly, I noticed I got an erection through this process.  But I ignored
it... the last thing I was worried about now was sex.

I fucked myself with his member for so long right then that I began to
think that he was too overly medicated to cum.  My confidence wavered more
and more the longer I went.

But his orgasm snuck up on me, giving me no warning.  His body didn't tense
up, he made no pleasurable sound, he just continued to lie there in the
deepest sleep he's ever been in.

Somehow, that didn't stop his dick from shooting his cum inside of me.

I could feel it filling me up inside beyond capacity.  There was so much of
it I suddenly felt like there was twice as much length of his dick inside
me than there really was.

But the cum seemed to heat me from the inside out, seemed to soothe me
everywhere at once and set a pleasant fire to every inch of my body.

I yelled out in pleasure, completely unrestrained.

As his dick started to soften inside of me, I held it firmly in place.  I
knew I had to keep it in there for some time.

I collapsed on top of Sam.  His dick remained within me, like a plug, not
letting a single drop of his cum escape.

Holding onto Sam's body, that soothing warmth spread through me, that
tingly, soothing glow, and I was so relaxed, I fell asleep.

*****

It felt like someone put a super-charged taser to my throat.

Yanked violently from my sleep, I opened my eyes and peered around the dark
room, looking for my assailant, ready for a fight.

There was nobody there.  Just me, still lying on top of Sam, who was still
in his semi-comatose state.

I must have dreamed the shock, like waking up from a dream in which you are
falling, clutching the bed fearfully.

I could feel Sam's soft dick still inside me.  I carefully pulled myself
away from his body, and his dick smoothly slid out of me, his load of cum
oozing freely out of my ass and onto the sheets.

Feeling dirty, I walked naked out of the bedroom and across the great room
into the bathroom.  It was still the middle of the day, and at this time
nobody would be up.  Nobody would be alarmed to see me walk around naked.

I jumped in the shower.  As the cold water started to hit me, I
concentrating on washing the cum out of my ass with my finger.

As the last of the soothing liquid was washed down the drain, the pain
started to hit me.  My ass was seriously sore, it seemed.  I swore never to
do that again.  At least I was not bleeding.

When I was finishing my shower, a shock almost knocked me to my feet.  It
was like an electric current running through my body, startling the hell
out of me.  Only instead of pain and discomfort, this electricity was
decidedly pleasurable in nature.

What the hell was that?  What was my body doing?

Knowing now that the first shock had been no dream, I sat down in the tub,
naked, waiting for another shock to hit me.

It did after a few minutes, startling me enough to make me scream and
convulse, yet bringing enough pleasure that my dick shot to life.  Then, as
quickly as it came, it was over.

Clearly, something very unusual was happening to my body.

I became extremely anxious as I realized what must be happening to me.  My
goal had been successful after all.  What the fuck was I gonna do now?

I rushed back into our bedroom.  Sam was still sleeping there, completely
oblivious.  I jumped into bed and took him in my arms, letting his touch
relax my nerves once more.  I knew I could not live without this touch.  I
could not live without Sam's love and support.  His guidance.

I wanted to wake him up and tell him everything that I had done while he
was sleeping.  I shook him, trying to rouse him.  It was pointless.  He'd
be out like that for who knows how long.

I suddenly pulled away from him, repulsed at myself.  I could not let my
weakness make anymore decisions for me.  I knew there was only one thing to
do if this really worked, and really worked it did.

If I stayed here with Sam like my heart told me to do, I knew what would
happen.  They would kill me for what I did.  They might do the same to Sam
for his involvement.

I threw some clothes on.  Quickly crammed all of my possessions into my
bag.  I opened Sam's wallet on the dresser and took all his money.  There
was a few thousand in hundreds here.  I stuffed it in my pocket.

Before I left, I kissed Sam on the lips softly.  Told him I loved him.
Told him I was sorry, but I didn't have any choice.  And I left without a
backward glance.

On my way out of the great room, I went through the kitchen and grabbed the
remaining cup and a half of Sam's cum, knowing I may need it later.

Leaving the inner circle, I found one of the Delector day-guards and told
him to wake up Hassan.

The Middle-Eastern Delector greeted me soon after in his brown monk robes,
holding a lantern in his hands.

"Get me a Delector flight crew," I told him.  "We need to fly out of here
ASAP."

"Are you serious?" he asked me.  "Fly the plane out of here now?  In the
middle of the day?"

"Yes, that's what I'm telling you to do," I snapped.

"Impossible," he said, shaking his head.  "We cannot fly anywhere until
sunset."

"But you fly during the day all the time.  I've been in the fucking plane
when you've done it!"

"That is when we have a full compliment of Cherubim already onboard to
cloak us," he said.  "But all of the angels are sleeping here.  Even if we
woke them, they would not survive the walk to the plane in the hot desert
sun."

"I don't care about the angels," I said.  "Get together the pilots and the
human flight crew, now.  We're taking off immediately, without angels."

"Without the angels?  How do you suppose we'll cloak the plane?"

"Just get the goddamn personnel!  That's a direct order from the Seraphim,
now move it!"

Moaning unhappily, Hassan would still not risk defying a Seraphim order.
He ran off and reappeared with a few other brown robed Delectors.

"To the plane, then," Hassan said to me, gesturing towards the front
entrance of the Cathedral.

As the brown-robed monks pushed open the large stone doors, blinding white
light poured into the entryway, reaching just feet from the position where
I was standing.  For the first time in my life, the light scared me.  Would
it hurt me?  Was I enough of an angel yet?

I didn't have time to worry about that.  I'd either burn to death in the
sun, or wait here and be killed by Faith.  Taking a deep breath, I walked
quickly out into the light.

Nothing.  No burning, no death.  I breathed a sigh of relief as I followed
the Delectors into the sand.

It took us a good while to reach the hiding place of the plane.  After we
had boarded, one of the pilots asked me where I wanted him to take me.

"As far as you can," I said.  "A major city somewhere."

He shook his head.  "Are you expected me to land at an airport somewhere?"

"Well, yeah."

"No," he said.  "Without the cloaking, we'll never get access anywhere."

"So," I said, frustrated.  "Where can you take me?"

He shrugged.  "Can get clearance into the United Arab Emirates, just over
the border," he said.  "Can drop you off at Dubai.  That's best you're
gonna get."

"Sure, whatever, Dubai it is.  Just get me the hell out of here."

"Yessir."

And the plane started to take off.

When we were in the air, I looked down out the window of my seat at the
little canyon that the Cathedral was housed in, wondering how long it would
take the Seraphim to realize that I was gone.  I knew I'd never go back
there, no matter how much I grew to miss Sam.

As we continued on our way, I went over in my mind exactly what my plan was
for here on out.

Another pleasurable shock took hold of me, causing me to grunt
unexpectedly.  I didn't know what was happening to me exactly, but I knew
the end result.

I shut my eyes and willed the change to come.  I didn't think I'd ever been
more self-satisfied.  I was no longer a man.

I had made myself an angel.


TO BE CONTINUED