It's too early to get up. Sunday morning, quiet and holy in so many religions… why do I feel so unholy? The dark ceiling of my room has an even darker shadow, a black stain that looks like a road kill. As I stare at that black monster of a thousand tentacles spreading day by day, thoughts of suicide start slowly running in my head like the cogwheels of a complicated mechanism.
I think about it, the depressed woman who lives in the apartment above mine. The black stain could be water damage… maybe she cut her wrists open in the bathtub which is now overflowing with blood and cold water, spilling on the floor and eating its way through the foundations of her floor, my ceiling. Maybe that's the story behind the stain.
Thoughts of her suicide… they make me smile and squeeze out a small laugh, and the instant that contemptuous little noise escapes my dry lips a headache explodes inside my head. "Just what I fucking need…" I sigh and brush my hand over my face, feeling the cold sweat on my skin. I need to remind myself again why I live in this cheap apartment filled with annoying or insane people, even though I deserve so much more.
"Family is holy, you never forsake it, no matter what would happen." The motto of my family and bloodline. "If you disgrace us by leaving our side, be sure to sleep with a gun, for your life will be in peril." Those threats scared the ever living out of me when I was younger. Now they scare me even more, after I know it's true. I'm the proof of it.
I was sent out to kill my cousin who left us and is now working under the nemesis of my kind, our natural enemy. However, it's always interesting to see how the hatred isn't mutual… after all, how could they hate us when they don't even know about our existence. Or if they do, they haven't shown any signs of it.
When I found my cousin and stared at him through the sight of my sniper, I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger. Despite working with those wretched and filthy demons, the charming smile hadn't left his lips. He seemed happy and full of life, unlike the rest of us. Us who didn't have the courage to shake off the chains of oppression. He was free to make his own decisions now, do what he wanted without having to fear the reaction of the leaders of our family.
He didn't seem to fear death even though I was there, only one movement away from ending his life. So I didn't kill him. Instead of doing that, I became jealous of him. The fact that despite his mild nature and pathetic abilities, he had more courage than I did. The person who I had overlooked the most I now secretly admired.
With these mixed emotions I returned home, not knowing what to tell my family. I had let them down and made myself seem worthless in their eyes. This family is more of a cult than a bundle of loving and caring relatives. A crazy, fanatic cult protecting what they like to call "purity" even though we are far from that. Passing the information forward, the story of my cowardice reached the ears of the elders of the Castell family who lowered their hammer of judgment on top of my head. I didn't kill Rafael, ignored my mission which shouldn't have been difficult. It wouldn't have been my first kill and therefore it was even more unacceptable.
It took them many months to decide what to do with me, since I refused to try again. I spend those months in house arrest as a taste of my plate full of nasty punishment. There was a chance they would kill me, or they would force me to kill Rafael… kidnap him and make me torture him before the main act. There were tons of different punishments they could choose from. And in the end, my punishment was… strange. I still can't say if it's a mild or horrible punishment. Only time will show.
What they made me do is babysit, and so far nothing dreadful has happened. Except my loss of sleep. Knowing that the being I'm watching over is wide awake, staring at me through the wall is causing me insomnia. He doesn't have to sleep. He's evolved past the stage of needing anything… but still he's begging for food he doesn't need. And for some reason I feed him, the expression of bliss on his bright blue eye when he disembowels and slurps down the guts of the creatures I bring him is causing me to feel unnatural and frightening pleasure.
The look on his face and the unblinking stare is almost orgasmic, and the fresh blood on his pale skin is somehow beautiful, matching with the color of his hair. I'm sure he used to be a graceful and majestic being, but now there's only a hollow and gruesome shell left of the ethereal beauty that once was an angel. And maybe that's why I'm feeling so unholy. Maybe it's the cause of my insomnia and recent alcoholism. Maybe that's why I can't stop this headache caused by the whisper of his pleads in my mind.
As if he could read my mind his nails connect with the wall separating this room and the next, scraping it loudly. I wait for a while, spend five minutes listening to that hideous noise coming from the next room until I can't take it anymore. I stand up, feeling the little I have eaten during the day rising up to my mouth. Bitter taste of stomach acids burn my tongue and I have to swallow down the thick mixture of food and alcohol. A hangover, I've been enjoying it's unappreciated company every morning of the past week.
Despite the wild rollercoaster ride inside my stomach I manage to wobble to the door that has swollen from moisture, hardly possible to close. Because of the issue with this specific open door, I have sacrificed one of my few dining chairs to keep the door shut. Since this apartment complex is owned by our family, a few modifications has been made to this very apartment. Modifications to keep a certain dirty secret put. And even though the chains locking the insane and slowly rotting angel to the room, I still feel uncertain if the door isn't closed… and I mean completely closed.
Regardless of the angel having it's disgusting and destructive charm drilling its way into my head, I feel insecure and scared by his close proximity. The things I've seen him do are things I never imagined I would see right in front of my eyes. Those gruesome acts of tearing animals apart, limb by limb, organ by organ. Feasting on their flesh. Sickening.
I find myself standing in front of the door, listening to the hypnotizing musical played by the angel, using the wall as his instrument. My whole body is shaking and my heart is racing like a horse on steroids. Air feels thick in my lungs, making breathing difficult and uncomfortable. Gathering my scattering thoughts and loss of self-control, I reach down to the piece of wood that once was a leg of a chair and push it away.
The scraping stops and so do I. Silence lands in the room as a thick cloak of impatience. Waiting… listening… I'm observing him and he's observing me, like it's a competition who will make the first move. Maybe he just wanted to make me feel even less comfortable in my skin and more jumpy, he continues scraping the wall, like he was inviting me into his eerie domain. The handle of the door is cold in my sweating, hot hand. It takes more strength than I'd like to admit for me to open the noisy door.
The lights of the street are lighting up the otherwise dark room with their mechanical, bluish light. There are no furniture and for that I am grateful. I don't need any agonizing shadows to increase the stress this room is causing. The sound of tapping draws my attention and I slowly turn my head towards the corner closest to me. The wall is filled with long scratching marks and blood. He's been busy.
In the corner I spot that eye, bright and blue, piercing me like an icicle. He stares at me like a predator, his mouth open like he was surprised to see me though the lack of emotion tells a different story. "Noah…" He calls my name in an adoring sigh and taps his sharpened nails against the wall again. Just looking at him hurts. He's leaning against the wall, the black wing that is losing its feathers twitching in the tight squeeze between the wall and his fragile body. I don't know if it's typical for angels that are fallen from grace to rot away like that, lose their wings slowly and most likely painfully. When it comes to his other wing, there's nothing left. Just a white bone hanging from his back like an extra limb.
The scarred, anorexic body slowly withering away makes me pity him more than fear, even though sometimes I'm not entirely sure. His left arm is long gone, just a stump has been saved. A white bone is showing from his leg, peeking between the torn and bloody flesh that he has scraped off. Despite him being an immortal creature, I'm still surprised that he hasn't gotten any infection to that wound that has been there, unhealed for multiple days.
"Hungry…" He whispers and moves his body in a spastic twitch. "No." I answer, staring at him and trying to hide the fear and disgust dwelling inside me. The room stinks of blood and putrid flesh, the smell of filth… yet behind all that despicable stench I can trace a hint of sweetness. An alluring scent that draws me towards this indescribable being.
"Hungry…" He breathes out, almost throwing his body violently forward, falling on the floor on his stomach, unable to support himself with only one working arm. "Hungry…" He whispers and reaches his hand towards me, long and slender fingers, grasping the air in desperation. "I already fed you today." I keep my cool, not giving in to that saddening sight.
Even with the black wing caressing the wall softly and moving the air around him, he manages to turn around on his back. The sound that fills the air when he turns and the dead wing is forced into an unnatural position makes cold shivers run down my back. He looks straight at me, flashing a wide smile. "Noah…" He whispers in a long note, followed by a silent yet soft moan. My bones turn into iron and I can't move, a lump is stuck in my throat. He pulls his legs up against his chest and brings his hand over his mouth, gently nipping one of the long and deadly nails.
"Stop that." I say, sounding less sturdy than I wanted. My voice is shaking and sounds dry and weird. The sweet scent gets stronger, like a pheromone. It's messing with my head and thoughts, making the scars and pus spitting wounds seem less gross. Even though the red hair slides from covering his other eye that has been dug out, showing nothing but sloppily sewn stitches, it starts to seem like nothing.
He giggles in a childlike manner, moving the finger down to his chin and even lower, to draw lines against his collarbone. As that unyielding eye is staring at me like it was digging my head, I realize what he's trying to do. The sweet scent he's emitting, the silent noises of need escaping his parted lips… those inviting gestures and brushy touches, he's trying his best to seduce me. He's trying to make me forget what he is and what he's capable of doing, trying to make me come close so he could rip me apart. We don't know the story behind his insanity, what makes him crave for flesh and hurt himself if not watched constantly, but what we do know is that he's ready to do anything to get what he wants.
By willpower and willpower only, I'm able to turn my head elsewhere and close my eyes. "Noah!" He groans and I hear the nails ripping the carpet floor that has sucked in all the blood he has left behind. When I glance  at him, I see him crawling towards me quickly like a monster, hissing and licking his lips angrily. I flinch and take hasty steps backwards, almost falling down with nothing but startle. He advances quickly and panic is filling my veins like poison.
"Stay back you dirty piece of shit!" I scream and without any hesitation reach my hand forward, filling the room with bright light for a second. The blue light swirling around my arm is shooting at the angel, throwing him across the room like a puppet. The adrenaline rush is over in a second and darkness falls slowly into the room again. My legs are shaking and I'm panting like I just ran a marathon.
The angel is lying on the floor, curled up like a scared animal, shivering and whimpering helplessly. Or so it seemed. Confusion fills me when he moans again, silently, almost impossible for me to hear. His body is twitching and the wing is shivering, black feathers falling down. He turns his face towards me and the grin on his lips is like a bullet through my chest. I knew this person knows no such word as physical pain. The strangely lusty look in his half lidded eye solidifies my suspicions… this angel gets pleasure out of pain.
The sweet scent is swirling in the air, mixed with the refreshing breath from my fire, causing my head to become foggy. As I look at the angel lying on the ground, I can't see the scars anymore. The intoxicating scent is taking away my rational thinking, and makes my body shiver with warmth and itch of being touched. For a fallen angel who has lost his mind, he's very cunning.
I blink my eyes slowly, and in that short moment of darkness created by my eyelids, I hear a soft voice whispering to my ear; "My name is Iscariot."
I open my eyes, and what I see in front of me, is not a dying immortal, but a truly beautiful being. Somewhere in the back of my head the rationality tells me it's just his trick, he's fooling my eyes somehow. Pure and perfect skin, two white wings brushing against the walls of the room. A man whit big, blue eyes peeks under one of the wings with a coy smile on his lips, a halo brightening his face. The wings with golden edges are pulled against his arched back and I can see his slim form completely. "Come." The voice whispers again. It's his voice, but without the malicious note tainting it. "Take me."
The beautiful being sits up, sliding his hands against his bare thighs, closing his eyes in the pleasure even a slightest touch causes in him. "Noah… call my name." The voice pleads, now echoing inside my head, the erotic scent numbing my senses. As if I had no will of my own, I obey. "Iscariot…" He opens his eyes again and looks at me, letting out a tender suspire, filled with lust.
I take a vague step closer, unable to take my eyes off of the sight of his aroused body, shivering slightly in excitement. "Come here." His hoarse voice pleads, eyes looking at me with desperation and need. His hands move again, as I start taking slow and staggering steps towards him. Those sleek fingers brushing the white skin, up to his stomach, other hand softly sliding against his hard member once. His moans are amazing.
Unable to resist the enchanting sounds, I reach my hand towards the deceiving angel, who reaches his to mine. His warm and soft hand squeezes my wrist gently as he pulls me closer. Warning bells are ringing in my head but his soothing voice whispers over them, their charming promises silencing everything else. "Love me… touch me."
I'm on my knees in front of him, feeling the heat radiating from his body, stroking my skin with soft brushes. He smiles and moves his hand up to my cheek, fingertips caressing my arm, shoulder and neck. As his hand is resting on my cheek he leans in so I can hear his breaths and silent noises of pleasure. Those shining eyes are closed and soon his soft lips are on mine, kissing me gently, almost teasingly. Leaning forward I can feel those silky and warm lips on mine, tasting the exquisite yet familiar taste on them.
He pulls away slightly, looking right to my eyes a flash of mischief making his eyes seem even brighter. The touch of his cold hands on my bare skin makes me flinch and inhale loudly. Through the intoxicating sweetness I can still taste the blood in the air, but I forget it as soon as the thought of this devious trick tickles my mind. "No, it's better this way…" The voice whispers. "Look at me and tell me you don't want it." And as I look at that fragile body, all movements telling a story of wanting to be loved, I'm able to push back the thought of a decaying angel devouring everything within its reach.
The cooling fingertips are running against my bare chest like teardrops, leaving a trail of longing behind. They run across my chest, down to my abdomen, studying my physique with gentle brushes, counting the bones that have been broken by life. His quiet breaths against my lips make me want to kiss him again and taste that divine flavor of his, but unable to take my eyes away from his, I can't focus on anything else but the feeling of his fingers searching their way into my underwear.
My eyes fall shut as the cold fingers wrap around my member, relieving the ache in my body a little. He doesn't have to touch me for long before I'm completely hard. He smiles and presses his body closer, so I can feel his chest touching mine. "Noah…" He coos right at my ear, nipping the shell softly. The threat of him biting my ear off completely never manages to brush my interest. Instead I just tilt my head slightly towards the tingling sensation caused by his teeth.
A silent moan rises from my lungs as his hand starts moving against my manhood in a steady pace, touching all the right, sensitive spots to make my body burn with desire. "Call my name again, Noah." The floating voice inside my head tells. "Iscariot…" I obey without any resistance, slackened by the sensations attacking my body mercilessly. The feathers of his wing tickles my shoulder and neck, making me shiver and tilt my head even more towards those tempting lips kissing a path towards my neck. Flicking the heated skin with his tongue, Iscariot places a soft kiss on my neck, sucking the spot experimentally. Will he bite me? No, he won't. I allow my eyes slip closed again and his sweet pheromone takes me into its rapture again, cradling me into the mellow belief of safety despite his closeness. Despite me knowing what he really is.
I open my lips with another soft moan as his fingers tighten around my member, stroking faster and faster, thumb teasing the sensitive tip with gentle rolling brushes. Knowing I can't escape from his alluring grasp, I give in to the stream of pleasure, pulling him closer and letting my hands feel his warm and shivering skin. He sighs against my neck, hot and moist breath caressing my skin.
My hands wander from his thin arms up to his shoulders, fingertips feeling the warm and pulsing skin of his neck. Sliding down to his chest, where I find his nipples, just begging to be played with. Even the slightest touch on his chest makes Iscariot flutter in my arms, sighing one of those melodic sighs again. As I move my fingers gently against those nubs, I can feel his body arching towards me, asking for more.
He lets go of my member and pulls my boxers down. "You don't have to… The voice whispers and I know it's true. He's not in for it for pleasure… he wants me to hurt him. But the way his body seems so fragile and light, I don't want to hurt him. He has restored his previous majesty in my eyes, and destroying something so flourishing would break my heart. And so I disobey him for the first time, continuing to caress his body gently, wanting to bring him pleasure instead of pain.
He pushes me away and looks down, eyes staring hungrily at my crotch. However, it's not the hunger I'm used of seeing in those cold eyes. A blush rises on his cheeks, and with a quick glance towards my face, as if he was asking for permission, he lowers himself. His tongue touches the tip of my member, licking it softly, a bit unsurely.
It frightens me. I'm not sure if he's going to bite me, but it seems he doesn't intend to hurt me. A bit of my rationality is restored and even though his lips are around my member, sucking it experimentally, I can concentrate for a moment, breaking the blissful fantasy for a second. A question circling my thoughts makes me frown. Why hasn't he hurt me yet? I gave him an opportunity, many, to be exact. Yet I'm not bleeding or mangled by his razor-sharp fingernails.
When I look down at the being swallowing all of my member so easily and eagerly, an idea is waking up in my mind. Maybe he can sense it, the fragile binding between us. "Family is sacred…" I mumble, allowing my fingers to run through that long and silky hair of his. Maybe he knows how similar yet different we are, my cursed bloodline and almost extinct race compared to his.
He lets out a muffled moan and looks up to me, maybe knowing that my thoughts are elsewhere despite his nasty spell. "Noah." He whispers, licking at my length and begging for attention by locking my eyes with his. I flash a quick smile to him. "I'm here."
He lets me go, satisfied by the way I'm wrapped around his little finger again, but instead of continuing he sits up and hugs me, pressing his body tightly against mine so I can feel his arousal rubbing against mine, squeezed between our bodies. He whispers something to my ear, but the humming is too loud in my ears. I can't hear him.
He shifts a bit, pushing me down on my back. Our eyes meet again briefly, as he straddles on my stomach, looking down at me adoringly… as strange as it sounds. He leans down and kisses me again while he presses his hips back so that his ass makes contact with my member.
He shivers, licking my lower lip and coaxing me into a deep kiss. How am I supposed to resist? I embrace the darkness filling my eyes as I close them to enjoy the kiss even more. His tongue touching mine while he sucks it hungrily, making small noises to show his appreciation. He rocks his hips and makes me lift mine like it was a reflex. I want to feel the heat of his insides squeezing me tightly more than anything.
Once again he acts exactly how I want him to, as he pulls away from the kiss, licking his lips and raising his hips so that the tip of my member is probing his entrance teasingly. I don't know if he's torturing me or himself, but I can see the impatience growing behind those lusty eyes. He smiles again, this time it being that deceptive and hungry grin that I've seen on his face too many times. My eyes widen with sudden panic but I'm not given any time to react to that chilling smirk. The fright is gone as soon as it entered my consciousness when he makes a quick movement that causes all of my length to slip inside him.
Just as I thought, inside him it's warm and his inner walls are almost pulsing against my member. But the pleasure isn't all that great as I see a quick expression of pain being drawn on his face. He bites his lip hard, I'm sure it's going to break any second… but it doesn't. Instead he lets out a louder moan and arches his back, starting to move slowly, rolling his hips on each thrust.
The look of pain is gone from his face as pleasure starts to flow into his body… and mine. Closing my eyes I concentrate on enjoying the unnatural sensation pulsing from his body to mine with each move. Comparing this to my previous experiences… this is so much better. Maybe it's the pheromone he's releasing in the air or the fact that I have never had sex with a celestial being. I never even thought it was possible for someone as tainted as me.
Listening to his loud gasping and gorgeous moans gets me even more excited. I open my eyes just a bit to see the angel riding me, his slender body glistening with sweat of passion. The long, red hair is glued against his pale skin and his wings are moving slowly in pace with his breaths. He has arched his back and his face is towards the ceiling, but when he slumps again, I can see the sinister grin on the lips that are bruised from the kiss. It doesn't take me long to realize the reason to that less erotic look on his face when he slows the pace, staring at me, challenging me. "Your turn." The voice in my ears says with a low tone. I know what he wants me to do.
Collecting all the strength I have left, I turn the situation around. With one quick roll, I have him pinned down against the floor, looking up at me with that grin still lingering on his lips. He wraps his arms around my neck and  looks at me underneath his eyelashes, with his stare asking me to move.
His spell has made me vulnerable to his commands, but without hesitation I pull out, only top thrust back in. The look of pleasure on his face when I hit his sweet spot is so erotic it takes all my strength not to come right away. Once I pull myself from the deep pit of ecstasy, I can focus on bringing pleasure for the both of us. The intense heat flowing into my body is making me lose control when I time after time thrust hard and deep into Iscariot's welcoming warmth. The long breaths caressing my neck, bringing his moans to my ear is making my skin go goose-flesh. His name is on my tongue again as I too let out silent noises of pleasure.
At first I was scared of the nails pressing against my neck, that he would break my skin and let me bleed to death, but the way he's able to just caress my shoulders and back without hurting me is making me enjoy his divine body even more.
He gets tighter and arches his back, taking a deep breath, the moan lingering on his lips telling me that he's close. I'm moving even faster, wanting to bring him over the edge with me, fly him to the heaven he once left. I let my head fall, lips touch his neck. His skin is warm and moist from sweat that tastes salty when I let my tongue brush the sensitive spots on his neck. I nip his skin gently, and he tilts his neck to give me more space to work on. And then he comes.
A loud and long moan echoes in the room and his body tenses up, shivering wildly. The note of unbelievable pleasure in his voice and the way he's squeezing me is too much and I as well feel my release making my whole body sparkle with warmth.
And then it's over. In the silence broken only by our silent gasps, the magic is fading. My senses are returning with my rationality, bringing back the ugly reality with them. The smell of blood and pus is filling my nose instead of the sweetness again and it makes me grimace.
Iscariot laughs.
The cold sound makes me sit up hastily and the real angel is there again. The graceful beauty and holy shine is gone and the rotting being is staring at me with eyes colder than ice. A scarred hand reaches towards my face and bony fingers are brushed against my hot cheek. Unable to take my eyes off of the sickly skin I swat that hand away.
For a while I'm hoping that it was all in my head, that I didn't really do what I just did, but as I look down I see it's all real. I'm still inside him, and the quick withdraw caused by panic reveals me even more. He's bleeding. The mixture of blood and cum is leaking out of him slowly, making my jaw drop. Just a while ago my body was blazing with warmth, now I'm shivering with cold as all life has been drawn out of me by mere shock.
"Oh shit…" I whisper out and try to pull away, but that's when the real Iscariot acts out the way he's always acted. The long fingers grab my hair painfully and he pulls me closer, so I can feel the scars on his chest burning with infection touching my skin.
Before I'm given time to even think about how to free myself from his grasp, he sinks his teeth deep into the flesh of my shoulder. Instead of screaming my lungs out I just breathe, my eyes wide with fright. My body is frozen, tied down by pain so I can't fight back when those teeth are ripping my skin and flesh, hot blood dyeing my skin red.
Just as I'm ready to adjust to the thought of being eaten alive, he lets go. My survival instinct kicks in roughly and I jump up, backing away to the door, holding my shoulder pulsing with agony. "Fucking bastard…" I whine, feeling warm tears gathering and making my vision blurry. He grins at me, licking the blood from his lips like it was honey. With those words I dash out of the room, slamming the door shut so a few dusty pieces of concrete fall from the ceiling.
Pressing the door shut with my weight, I reach for the wooden stick with my feet. My hands are shaking so that I almost can't put it between the door and corner, making sure it can't be opened from the other side. Jesus Christ… what the fuck did I do?
For a while I just sit there, my back against the cold door, trying to recap the past hour in my head, put things in a chronological order. My shoulder is screaming for attention, still bleeding and aching badly. I probably should show it to a doctor, I don't know what kind of bacteria his mouth is filled with.
Wiping off the tears that have stubbornly left their marks on my cheeks I stand up. My feet are still shaking and I feel weak and I know it's not because of the loss of blood. Cursing silently to myself, I wander to the bathroom. Instead of putting on the lights I leave the door open, letting the depressing silver light of the streets light the room.
I step under the shower and close my eyes letting the water pour down on my skin like rain. The bleeding stops eventually and a certain numbness fills my shoulder, occasional sparks of pain making me grimace. I don't know how long I stand there, under the cool water with my head empty like someone had sucked out all my thoughts. My feet start hurting at some point, but I don't care.
My heart finally stops racing and my body feels relaxed again, tension leaving me. It feels like I was standing in dark emptiness that brings back the memories, finally connecting the pieces of my mind, making memories and facts complete.
I just had sex with an angel. A fallen angel who is probably infested with diseases he himself is immune to. I slump against the cold tiles.
The ultimate sin… and I know I will suffer from it later on. Even though I'm not like humans who need vitamins and antibiotics to live longer, I don't know what the capacity of my immunity is. I touch the teeth marks on my shoulder gently, thinking if the bite will make me rot like Iscariot does. If the elders find out I laid my hands on him, they will punish me severely, making it sure I will never be able to live properly again. Fright rises its ugly face inside me, making me mutter silent curses swallowed by the sound of running water.
Not knowing what to do next, I step out of the shower before the landlady decides to come to see who's wasting all the water. Without drying myself off, without even thinking about disinfecting the wound, I walk back to the bedroom.
It's still dark. Too early to get up. The bottle of whiskey on my nightstand looks so very comforting and tempting. I sit down on the bed that is no longer warm from my body heat and rise the bottle on my lips, feeling the lukewarm and bitter liquid burn my tongue. Swallowing down the last drops of the whiskey, I feel like throwing up.
After I make sure it's going to stay down, I lay myself down to the bed, pulling the covers all the way over my head. Listening to the silent sounds of traffic making their way through the windows, I close my eyes and try to sleep. My headache is gone.