Page 1 of Sleeping Redemption
Prologue
Everybody has that moment where they lose themselves. You lose yourself in the depths of a new reality to a point where you’re not sure that you want to get back to where it all began.
What has to happen to get back to that point? Nobody knows the precise formula. No certain turn of events has to occur. No particular words have to be spoken. Prayers? Just pretty words to help you sleep at night. The harsh truth sits right outside your window, and you have to make the most of that.
Their screams may pierce the dark silence of night, their blood may stain my hands, and their flesh may rot under my gaze. Hell has become my skewed sense of normalcy; Hell is my home. Hell belongs to him, and we all are just abandoned puppets, collecting dust and lying on an empty stage.
Chapter One
The tropically-scented air in the bathroom was thick with heat and practically suffocating humidity as steam seeped from the glass-encased shower stall. At the bottom of the shower, tainted water circled the stainless-steel drain. You could almost call it a work of fucking art as the diluted blood swirled in senseless patterns.
The water was no longer as sullied as it had been when I first stepped underneath the showerhead. Instead, the ribbons of blood had watered down within minutes.
I allowed the continuous cascade of scalding water to hit my scalp and pour down over my pale blonde tresses laying over top a curtain of raven locks, both layers saturated with more liquid than they could hold.
Most people I encountered thought my hair was a product of a talented stylist working a magical blend of chemicals to create such a striking opposition of colors. While unapologetically vain and able to afford a stylist to the stars to work their hair voodoo, I didn’t need to. What most people didn’t know was that my tresses were naturally the purest shade of blonde and slowlybegan taking on a pitch-black hue over the past few decades. The blonde still mostly masked the raven locks, only becoming more visible when I pulled my hair into a ponytail.
Call it a hunch, but it was doubtful anyone would take me seriously if I educated them on my unique brand of DNA. Silly little human toys couldn’t cope with the idea that an angel could be living right next door, fallen from grace, and filled with nightmarish darkness. It wasn’t my fault that angels have a reputation amongst gullible mortals for singing stupid songs, spreading goodwill, and all that crap. I traded in my harp and halo a very long time ago.
Still standing in the shower, the rest of my petite figure had been fully cleansed over twenty minutes ago, but paranoia tapped me on the shoulder asking if I had gotten all the blood off.
I’m clean, right? Dammit…
Another round of using an overpriced loofah against my skin and I had to call it good enough; I didn’t want to scrub my skin raw. It was considerably impressive timing for a shower after a long night’s work, and yet a voice whispered in the back of my mind.
The voice wished there had been more blood to wash away. It told me the thick and warm fluid would have felt smooth against my fair skin, and it would have carried an intoxicating scent that would make me feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy inside.
Oh right, that voice whispering inside of my head belonged tohim– it was all the Devil.
Ever since I chose a side in the Great Divide, declaring Hell my sanctuary, I had been proving my devout loyalty. It wasn’t easy, but I’d worked to become Lucifer’s highly-respected second in command.
I was stationed here on Earth to keep the lower ranks in line. As much as I would like to take credit for all theworld’s problems, there were many underlings responsible for spreading evil, one sin at a time.
That was where I came in. It was my responsibility to make sure Hell’s demons were meeting quotas. We wouldn’t want any of our winged counterparts upstairs thinking they had it easy. Those goody-two-shoe motherfuckers deserved to be running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to instill their oh-so-holy virtues in humanity. I may have been biased, but I thought I was doing a damn fine job of upholding Lucifer’s vision for the future.
My job was made easier by the very basic and very real part of my instincts that relished in violence against humans in a twisted and manipulative game where I was always the apex predator. No big deal, little dolls. You could trust me, pinky promise.
Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a swath of warmth around my body in the form of a towel. Securing it in place at the top, I walked over to the foggy mirror behind my sink. My hand gave a single swipe, creating a path of clarity across the glass.
I stared at my reflection. My pale blue eyes looked as empty as they had ever been.
This night had gone like so many before it, and the nights to follow would be no different. In the darkest hours of the morning, I delighted in desire, destruction, and death. It felt like I’d seen more nights like this than there were days in a millennium. It had gotten much more frequent ever since...that day.
There wasn’t much to talk about regarding what transpired on a snowy cliff centuries ago. Shit happens, even to celestial beings. No matter what anyone tells you, angels and demons aren’t infallible. We can die just like any other beings—it just takes a more thorough effort. We can be killed just like thathuman girl was tonight. Her death wasn’t in vain though, it served a purpose.
“Baby, your tears taste so fucking good,” I crooned as my tongue dragged over the drunk girl’s cheek. The saltiness prickled over my tastebuds, leaving them buzzing with excitement.
She lay in her bed, shaking like a leaf and whimpering between her broken sobs. “Please, no more,” she begged. It seemed she didn’t care for my knife flicking at her skin as I tested the validity of the idiom of death by a thousand cuts.
I pouted at how easily she had given up fighting. There was no doubt that my angelic strength overwhelmed her fragile body, but at least she could have clung to useless hope a little longer. She hadn’t even begged God for mercy in a desperate prayer.
Stupid human.
Should I have used my abilities to lull her under my spell so she could be blissfully unaware? Maybe. But where was the fun in bending the free human spirit when you could outright snap it in half?
“I swear I won’t tell anyone,” she whisperednaivelyin hopes that it would appeal to a part of me that didn’t exist.
“Sshh, sshh, sshh…” Placing a finger to her lips tenderly, I merely wanted her to shut the fuck up. I dragged the tip of my bloodied knife across her skin, outlining the curve of her breasts. Fear and pain had the full mounds rising and falling rapidly with her breaths.
