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So go on, take it, take another little piece of my heart...
From the Desk of Minus Three:

Once again I’ve been asked about the music that inspires me. It’s clearly not as central to the story as it was in Muse, but music really is my pulse. It’s the Main Nerve. I’ve been deeply into music as long as I can remember and as such it formed a large part of my method when I started writing when I was just a wee lad. I can’t help but invent characters while I listen to music; my headphones really are way too big and I listen to them way too loud with a notebook in my hand. The sounds pounding into my ears create scenes and the words create people and then I go and write about them. I have very varied tastes musically; one whole room in my house is literally a music library. This is just a glance at one slice of it.

I can almost guarantee that most people won’t like this music and listening to it is certainly not a requirement ofr understanding the story. That isn’t really why I’m doing this. It merely allows those that wish to “peak behind the curtain” as it were, and peer voyeuristically into my creative process.

-Gavin & Bethany Day and that whole messed up trip: and
-Raguel came about because of: and
-Disgusting Little Jenna Jezebel: and
-Christopher Oliver (the music, obviously, not the pictures. Trent Reznor is too skinny to be Christopher. LOL):
-And as for the general feel of the whole story, I suggest this and this
-And finally, the songs that inspired the creation of Avrielle herself: and

Also, I wanted to say this to regular readers; no, this isn’t like Muse. It’s a darker story by far because it isn’t about mortals and the things that happen after they are met and influenced by a Cherub trying to get them to fall in love who then falls in love with them herself and decides to give up her immortality to be with them. It’s about a different sort of “angel” all together, and the challenges she faces as she loses faith in the “company line” she has been adhering to her whole long life. I couldn’t soften it if I tried because Avrielle doesn’t have a soft life. That being said, she wants a soft life, and this is the story of her trying to have one. If you don’t like dark, gritty, nasty stories in and of themselves then I can’t help that. If you do however like to see essentially nice and pure people find light inside the black inkiness of dark and gritty storytelling then Welt is for you. It’s a tale of redemption and finding lost faith. If I prettied it up it would do a disservice, and the eventual catharsis would be meaningless and I’d have told a really poor story indeed. Happy endings lose their bite if they have no teeth prior.

As always, thank you for reading. As I post each chapter and read comments on them I gain insight towards the finished compiled work; sometimes those insights lead me to change things for the finished manuscript, and just as often (even when comments or ratings are negative) they lead me to leave things exactly as they are. Welt ~ 3 is a great example of this; as it sat below 40% for days I simply knew that I had wrote it exactly as it should be. If that had been rated really high I would have been appalled that my readers actually enjoyed reading what Gavin had done. It wasn’t supposed to be pretty.

Even for “angels” (maybe especially for “angels”) life sucks sometimes; but the way out is through…


Welt ~ 6

The Undertow Has Come to Take Me…

The Choir sounded different. There were new passages and tones I hadn’t been aware of before. Is this how it feels to fall? Is this how Raguel felt right before he became one of them? Did his aims seem as pure and just as mine now did when he first tempted a mortal?

“I’ve tempted a mortal…” I thought, aghast. I looked to Christopher in the driver’s seat beside me. He had a determined set to his jaw as he drove and I could feel he was more nervous than he let on. I let calm flow from me and into him. His muscles relaxed, his grip on the steering wheel loosened. I heard his thoughts change from “what now?” to “this now”.

“Oh no, I just did it again.” Turning empathy outwards to project emotion instead of merely sensing it was forbidden; it’s what they do. I’d started doing it last night in the club but hadn’t noticed until now how often. It had become second nature.

That had happened fast. I didn’t feel any different though, except for the knowledge that was I was doing was right. It was just. Rules be damned; it was time to actually do something instead of passively responding to what others asked of me. Perhaps on some level Raguel has been right all along; you have to make them understand. I was still on the proper side of the Scale. I could feel it. Then again, it was a well known fact that Elohim who fall think they’re still ‘angels’ and continue down their descent happily oblivious to the fact.

No. I couldn’t let that make my stride falter. I’d cut myself adrift and suddenly found the righteous resolve I’d always wished for. This must be how Aliona had felt, not Raguel at all. He was a twisted and evil caricature of what he had once been, but as I’d seen with my own eyes yesterday Aliona was still a perfect little Cherub…mortal or not, she hadn’t changed. Is this also then how mortals felt? No compass to guide them and so they just choose their own path and walk it? It was terrifying to see the future in front of you like a wide open vista with no lines or markings telling you where to go. That must be why the Choir sounded different; I could hear not only what was and is, but also the endless potential of what could be. That was why I could now make others feel without creating discord through the unholy use of will.

Yes. This was right. It was just. If I truly wanted to be free I had to once and for all destroy Raguel. I had not fallen. I had not fallen. The more I repeated it the more true it felt.

“This is the place,” Christopher said, pulling into a small parking lot between two small buildings in an industrial area outside of the city. “I’ll be right back, they won’t let in anyone they don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t either, I’ll be here.” I felt his desire to please me and was happy for it. I had to think he was doing this for me, not because of me. I watched him knock on the door of the warehouse and go inside after only a second of waiting.

“This is how they get you, you know,” a friendly, male voice said in rough English accent from the backseat. My body went cold and sticky and I tensed up, looking over my shoulder and cocking my right arm back in readiness.

Sitting there behind me, casually with his knees apart like he was taking a calm cab, ride was someone I’d never seen before. He was wearing a casual buttoned white shirt under a casual grey suit jacket; faded jeans and brown loafers, gold cufflinks, frameless sunglasses that were barely tinted, and jauntily unkempt blonde hair over his tanned forehead. He looked calmly out the passenger side window and tapped his knee with his fingers to some music I couldn’t hear. Bobbing his head forward and back at the neck he turned and smiled at me.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, tense and stern.

“You don’t know me, stop trying to place me,” he winked and smiled. “The name’s Samael, and I’m the only friend you have right now, so put your clobbering fist away.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and tensed my body even more. He shifted at the shoulders, bobbed his head, tapped his knee and moved his lips almost imperceptibly to whatever song was in his head. “I’ve had enough of demons, so tell me what you want from me before I turn you into paste.”

“Oh honey, I hate the fuckers too,” he said, looking at me and biting his lower lip and nodding. His voice was almost a drawl, sensual and sugary and seductive. There was no name for fallen Cherubs because it almost never happened. They were too happy most of the time to consider the other end of the spectrum. “That’s why I’m doing this. I gotta get back, you dig?”

I didn’t. I wanted nothing to do with fallen angels who tried to play both sides of the Scale. At best this was some hopeless futility on his part; once an angel falls they’re gone. At worst it was some clumsy attempt to manipulate me played out by Raguel or one of his depraved allies that hung around him like desperate sycophants.

“Go back to Raguel and tell him I’m coming for him,” I spat, flinching to swing.

“Hold tight love,” he replied, holding up one palm towards me. “It’s not like that at all.”

“No? What’s it like then, demon,” I hissed.

“You’re not far enough off to be throwing stones,” he told me, “so calm down and have a chat, see?”

Even demons have tells, except the Balseraph who believe their own lies, and this one seemed to be speaking the truth. It felt right anyways, no discord flowed from him. Rather he seemed to make a direct effort to be in synch with the Choir, not even making ripples with his movements. Sharply I snapped, “Speak.”

“To the point aren’t you? No chit chat first? ‘How’s the day’ and all that? No?”

I sat perfectly still, staring him down.

“Fine enough,” he went on, “to the point it is. I saw you on the computers love, and want to help. Before you ask what my end is I’ll just tell you. I want back in. This demon business was never my lot to start, I was tricked over you see? I figure maybe this is enough to get back in the good books if you catch my meaning.”

“I don’t need any help from the likes of you,” I sneered. Repentance indeed; once an angel falls there is no way back up. There was no deliverance because there was no one to grant forgiveness. Many fell, but there were none that had ever returned.

“Well, I think maybe you do,” he continued happily, “because those ashes from your wings I saw mean only one thing. You’re on a slippery slope and believe me I know.”

“Go on,” I prompted, hating him but realizing that I could at least get some information fro him before I sent him running, battered, back to some hole to heal in.

“I happens fast when it happens; all it takes is one wrong move. Getting back takes years though, I know because I’ve been trying. You’re there right now, on the brink. Trust me, you do not want to slip over it. The tipping point is narrow, love.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Did I?

“So did I,” he said, smiling and winking. “It happened fast, like I said.”

“What’s your point?” I was almost out of patience. He needed to say something useful fast.

“These smoky little cats you’re going after; that is what you’re doing right? Going after Raguel? Well, you can’t get close to them without them knowing. I Can.”

I was being tempted. There was no other explanation. Why would a demon want to help me? He thought he was telling the truth but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t been deceived by another. It was exactly what Raguel would do; but at the same time, it wasn’t. If he was dealing with a mortal this is the sort of game he would play, but with me he’d come head on as he had at times in the past since he fell. I couldn’t trust this demon, but maybe I could use him.

“And you intend to play spy? Double agent? Work both sides to your favor?” I asked.

“I just want my wings back, and if making sure yours don’t burn off is what I have to do then I’m all for it.” He smiled again and winked through his glasses. “Partners?”

“You can live for now; next time tell me something useful or I won’t be so charitable. Find out what makes him weak currently. He’ll have something, he always does.”

“Aw, that’s cute the way you threatened my life like that,” he joked. “Makes me almost wish I wasn’t trying so hard to like you. Till then, love.”

As fast as he’d appeared he was gone. I entertained the vague notion that on top of tempting mortals and reworking the Choir for my own designs I was now holding truck with and bargaining with demons. The voice of resistance was growing quieter all the time though, and the voice of personal resolve was growing louder.

My phone rang; Aliona again. I loved my sister dearly, but I needed to keep her as far away from all of this as possible. Going dancing, gum, smiles…none of these things could help me now. I’d call her when it was done. Christopher came to the car from the warehouse with two large metal cases, flat and long with handles like briefcases, and put them in the trunk before getting in the driver’s seat.

“Where to?” he asked me, stern as I was. My resolve reflected in him and back.

“We need to find Jezebel,” I said, my mouth tasting like hairspray as I said her name and contemplated her destructive wickedness, “so wherever there might be sin and pain.”

“I think I may know where we can start, but we’ll have to wait until it’s dark,” Christopher said, and drove back into the city.

“I’m sure we can find something to do until then,” I told him, looking at him and meeting his intense gaze with my own. The loop of lust between us flared and writhed and I fed it.

I had not fallen. I had not fallen. I had not fallen.

He Drew the Bow Across the Strings and it Made an Evil Hiss…

I was as happy as one of my caste could be until I saw her walk in the door. Her arrogance was an affront to every freedom I stood for. They all thought they were so much better than us with their halos of golden light and their stupid fucking rules and stupid fucking…halos of light. Just by walking in here she had pissed me off. I was already pissed off, but happily so. I threw the thick strop harder across the back of the man on his knees in front of me and he screamed loud and ragged. As his strength left him it flowed into me and I had been having a really good fucking time. The welts and bruises on his back were now joined by an ugly gash that oozed blood onto his skin. I gave him one more to match and dropped the strop beside him, sighing.

“Is…is it over?” he asked through his sobs, sounding disappointed. I grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head and jerked it back to look into his submissive face.

“It’s never going to be over, mutt,” I spit in his eyes and he winced. “Never.

Some animal instinct in him made relief mix itself with the regret he had on his face so I spit on him again and gave his head a brutal shake. They all had that urge to save themselves, no matter how much they come to love the torment of the flesh. The mind desires to punish the body for its fraility, but the body always tries to resist. That was the basic lie of the mortal condition; they all hated themselves for what we all wanted. Their weak and fleshy transience made some of them snap and reject their bodies. Bless them, each and every one of them. I loved to hate them so much.

“I’m going to get a bigger strop, and if you’ve moved when I get back I’ll use it on your balls.” He cowered down into a little ball on his knees and I patted the back of his head before standing up and pushing through the noisy bar, past the others drinking or jerking off or beating or being beaten.

Holy fuck I loved this place; and then she had to come in and pretty it all up. I hated her face, I hated how clean she looked, and I hated her clothes. I hated her name, her grace, her angelic poise. I hated that she had come in and ruined the whole vibe. No one else seemed to notice but that’s because they were brief and weak and mortal. None of them realized that ‘salvation’ had come through the door and was sneering at all of them as though they were the ones that didn’t get it. Poor, stupid, pretty, hated Avrielle and the new toy she’d picked up. He was standing behind her shoulder like a cop, looking around like he would bust the whole place. He had that ‘moral authority’ look to him, like he was the arbiter and we were to be judged. I hated him too. He looked weaker than the last time I’d seen him though; had she been feeding off of him? I smiled and hoped.

They saw me coming and his hand went under his leather jacket, she tensed and her hands clenched into fists. How many bullets were in that gun? 15? 16? How many here would gladly die for me if I asked them? 20? 30? I hated them all. I strutted up and stood right before them near the entrance, baring my teeth putting my hands on my PVC clad hips.

“When in another’s den show them respect or else do not go there,” I said slowly through my teeth, trying my hardest not to grab them and rip them apart right now. Raguel had asked me not to if I saw them. He was playing some kind of game I had little knowledge of and little desire to know about, but if playing along put me in his favor then I could be left alone to what I pleased.

“Don’t quote your dirty scriptures at me,” Avrielle said through her own clenched teeth, “You’ll tell us what we want or spend days putting yourself back together.”

“Get fucked, cunt,” I spat, “or is that what you’re here for? I can set you up; I can take care of your toy here, too.”

“Mind your mouth,” the boy scout snapped.

“Or you’ll what? Scold me? Slap me? Shoot me? What the fuck do you want, you’re spoiling the atmosphere.” That patience was on its last leg. I was surprised I’d lasted this long. I felt her calm him and I laughed out loud, leaning on the wall for support. I’d needed that. The momentary pause in the storm that passed for calm in my heart grew a bit; this was almost as good as tearing them apart with my hands and face would be. Not quite; but almost.

“I want Raguel, don’t pretend you actually care what happens to him,” she said to me in her snotty tone. Bitch. I imagined slapping her and dragging my nails across her face and licking her blood from them.

“Maybe I love him,” I teased her. “Maybe I want to love him and kiss him and have his babies. Fuck off bitch, I’m no rat. Now get out.

She was doing something to the Choir. I had a hard time hearing it at the best of times through my own chaotic swirl of entropy and destruction, but I sensed it anyways. She was stronger than I thought; Raguel had lied to me. Of course he had, but about this? I hated him too. Of course I did, but more now than before.

“I can make them mine if I want,” she said, looking at me smugly. Could she? Not all of them. Some were too deep in with me already; their debt of pain was too steep. But even if she could turn a few of them against me by prying at their emotions it would be…inconvenient. I scowled at her.

“What do you want, cunt?” I asked, gritting my teeth hard enough to break one of them. Fuck it; I’ll grow another.

“Raguel, and I’ll leave you be,” she was lying. She had to be. Unless she had gone far enough that this seemed like a good trade to her. “Where is he hiding?”

“Raguel doesn’t hide, bitch,” I was shaking now. It’d been too long since I’d broken or hurt something or rent something with my hands. “He’ll find you when he wants to. I could call him right now if you want…”

“Don’t be coy,” Avrielle said. “Just tell me where I can find him when he rests. He doesn’t need to know who told us.”

“Our little secret? As if. Convince me…”

“What do you want?” she asked me, jutting her chin at me.

“To watch while you fall and then laugh while you burn with the rest of us.”

She smirked and raised her eyebrow. There was something smoldering there behind her eyes, something I recognized now that I looked deeper. She was closer than I’d thought. I smiled a devlish smile and went back to being coy. I still wanted to destroy her, but there’d be time for that later. This was too good to get in the way of. Raguel wanted her for himself and so I’d never get my chance with him around.

“Fine,” I said, nodding at her. “This could be good. He sleeps it off after feeding on them; you can find him in his hotel room. Got something I can write on?”

She sneered when I pulled out my tiny knife and flipped its wicked little serrated blade out. She took out a pen and scrap of folded paper from her beige jacket’s pocket and I gave her the address. I might regret this, but life is for now not later. Life would actually be easier without him around; I’d have more time to do what I wanted and spend less running around playing his stupid games with him. Life is full of bigger fish, and if you wanted to be one of them you had to stay out of their way while they fought.

As they turned to leave the rage swelled up inside of my again and I looked around for something, someone to break. I looked back to the thrall on the floor past the bar. He hadn’t moved at all and that pissed me off almost as much as if he had. Fuck I hated him. As I strode quickly towards him I grabbed a bottle from the bar and my mouth went wide in a scream as I descended on his weak, filthy, mortal, little shell. People jumped back in terror and my scream turned to maniacal laughter as I showed him exactly how meaningless his little life was to me. He’d probably miss it when it was gone, but it meant nothing to me. Someone vomited nearby and I turned on them as the rest screamed and ran. I hated each and every fucking one of them. Who did they think they were? They seemed to think they got to choose and decide.

Motherfuckers; I’ll decide. Ha. Haha. Ha. Me.

In Ancient Caverns Crystal Like Studded Limpid Tears…

Could a person really fall in love this fast? Looking at her tense face in the passenger seat next to me I knew I’d do anything for her. I’d go to any lengths to help her because I knew that if she got what she needed then she would be free of the weight on her back and I could be with her. I’d only met her yesterday and our relationship so far was anything but normal. I could feel her stress in me; this must be what my father had been talking about when I was a boy and I asked him how you know when you’re in love. We’d been talking about how he and my mother met and he’d told me, “Chris, you’ll just know. When you feel that instead of two lives you’re taking part in one that’s bigger than both of you you’ll just feel it and know.”

This was certainly bigger than both of us. My lust and interest had rapidly turned into need, and I could tell she needed me too. Avrielle turned her face towards me and something I hadn’t seen before crossed her features. I tried to reach out to it as she’d asked me to last night, but I couldn’t. Something was stopping me. Either that or I was still weary from our frantic night of lovemaking and having almost no sleep. I did feel worn, drawn out. It was the same feeling as a firefight that went on longer than you thought it would.

“So, we’re going back for her when this is done, right?” I asked. “We can’t just let her go.”

“All in time, Christopher,” she answered tersely. “She’ll actually be weaker without Raguel to protect her. For now she was useful. Later she’ll be expendable.”

Her reasoning was tight. This I could get behind. This is how things are done. My father had been right, you can just tell. “What about when this is all over?”

“Over?” she asked. “It’s never going to be over. There’s always another Raguel.”

“This is personal for you, though. You haven’t said as much, but I can tell when someone is off mission because it’s personal.”

She turned and looked at me, some of her hair falling over her left eye. “Yeas, it’s personal. But that doesn’t change anything. It needs to be done. He’s gone far enough and it has to stop.”

“So you’re not trying to get this to stop so you can just…be free?” I asked Avrielle.

“Freedom is a myth, for all of us,” I didn’t need my currently-absent intuition to tell me she didn’t believe it was true; or that she wished it wasn’t.

“All angels?” I asked, following the directions she’d written on the paper in the sex club.

“For all,” she said grimly. “Mortal or not.”

I wouldn’t accept that but didn’t have the strength to argue. I didn’t think we should be going into this as we were, neither of us had enough rest to be fresh and ready, and yet she seemed to be champing at the bit, barely containing her nervous energy. I could see it in the way she fidgeted, she was jacked up with anticipation of what was to come.

I changed the subject. “So when we get there…”

“We have to get him to use his resonance on himself. We have to make him feel the truth and see what he is. He feeds off the emotional pain he inflicts on others, we have to somehow make him feed on himself. That’s why we’re not going straight to the address that whore Jezebel gave us. We need something else first.”

I looked around the neighborhood as I turned around a corner. “And we’re going to find what we need down here?

It was a terrible place; junkies in the alleys, pimps on the corners, and hookers walking the streets past the peep shows and strip bars and liquor stores and pawn shops. Everyone else had a glazed over look, like they were pretending they weren’t there serving their vices or were wishing they were somewhere better than all of…this.

“Yes,” she replied simply. She pointed through the windshield to a girl on the edge of the sidewalk who looked desperate, not quite jaded like the rest of the block’s dismal population. “That one.”

I was leery of all of this, but I pulled up by the girl, shivering in her tiny leather spandex skirt and halter top. She had a cigarette that looked long in her small hand and heels that made her look taller than she was.

“Lookin’ for a date?” she said as Avrielle rolled the window down. “Two’ll cost you more.”

“That’s fine,” Avrielle said. “Get in.”

“You’re not cops, are you?” the girl asked.

“No, get in,” Avrielle narrowed her eyes at the girl, who seemed to calm noticeably and then reach for the back door handle.

“What are we doing exactly,” I whispered to her.

“Spiking the punch bowl,” she said, turning to speak to the girl in the back as I pulled away from the curb. “We’re taking you to a friend of ours. He’s lonely and likes your type. How much to pretend you love him?”

“If you want the girlfriend treatment you call an escort, lady. I don’t have time for nights out and cuddling. Twenty for head, for fifty I’ll fuck him. For a hundred I’ll take two guys, for 150 you can watch. Anything else is above and beyond. And no ass…I hate walking funny when I get back to the track.”

“I’ll give you $750 to pretend you love him. He won’t want to cuddle, trust me. Just pretend you love him and want to be with him forever.”

“Holy shit!” the girl chirped, her jaded façade slipping to reveal the girl she had been before finding herself in the profession she currently occupied. “For 750 I’ll put on a dress and cook him a fucking pot roast! Deal!”

“Good,” Avrielle turned back to face forward in the seat, handing a wad of bills from her jacket pocket over her shoulder ot the hooker in my car. “Here’s 800; start thinking about it now.”

The girl took the money and Avrielle closed her eyes and leaned back calmly in the seat, taking a deep breath and holding it. I could hear the girl counting the money, but then stopped before she could possibly have counted it all.

“What’s your friend’s name?” she asked, a breathy tone in her voice now.

“Raguel,” Avrielle said calmly.

“That’s a nice name,” the hooker said quietly, “I bet he’s really great…”

I looked quickly over my shoulder at her. She was sitting in the middle of the backseat looking out the driver’s side window with a placid and dreamy look on her face. The half counted roll of bills was still in her hand, sitting there in her open palm forgotten. She tried the name to see how it sounded and then smiled, “Raguel. I like that. I can’t wait to meet him. Thanks for this.”

Something didn’t seem right anymore. The resolve faltered slightly. The bond I felt with Avrielle was still there, but it didn’t feel as…reinforced for lack of a better word. Even the slightest doubt was suicide during an operation though; Avrielle had warned me that we might have to do things I didn’t like. I looked over at her and caught her eyes partially open, looking at me. She smiled tightly at me and I felt the resolve come back as she slowly slid her eyes shut again.

Sometimes to save the village you have to burn it. Everything was going to be just fine.

He Sewed His Eyes Shut Because He Is Afraid To See…

There were thousands of ways to say “love” in thousands of languages, and I knew all of them. Samael the Sinner they called me now, but it hadn’t always been that way. The only mistake I ever made was making someone love me when they didn’t already want to, but that had been more than enough. I’d spent my share of time angry about it, but once I realized that it was my fault, my choices became lot simpler. From the very bottom there’s only one direction to go if you aren’t content to wallow in the filth with the rest of the fallen.

“Oh, this will never do,” I thought, shaking my head as I watched the hooker get out of the back of the car. What were they even doing here? I’d told her I’d find out what made him weak, and here she was walking on my lawn. When I saw the video all I’d wanted to do was help, but it may have gone too far for that.

Everyone had heard of Aliona, ‘the little angel that could’, but I’d no idea that they were sisters until she’d called me a few hours after I’d spoken to Avrielle earlier. How she got my number I’ve no idea, we Cherubs could be very resourceful. I didn’t know that I had a reputation too though; it seems that my years of work were paying off. If a fleshbound ex-angel like Aliona had heard of me then maybe there was a chance at this salvation thing after all. I’d been flattered at first that she trusted me to help her with this, and she’d been relieved to here I was already familiar with the situation.

She’d been right; someone had to stop Avrielle. What she was trying might even work, slipping the hooker in all bound up with love for Raguel and letting him feed on it. He’d gotten so fierce and nasty that the only emotions he fed off these days were the vilest and blackest; I doubted he’d be able to stomach something like this. It would give him pause, slip him up, weaken him and drop him down a few pegs. That’s when they’d hit him. For what though? So she could take his spot? It was short sighted, because what about this girl? She was just a hooker from most people’s point of view; there was no such thing as just a hooker though. That was like saying “just a doctor” or “just a school kid”. No; there was only one destination on that path and I wouldn’t let her go there. Even if everything else got all bollocksed up I wasn’t going to let this poor girl be consumed in the middle of two raging fires.

It was ironic she’d chosen love as the bitter pill to try and slip to him. If it had been anything else I’d have had to knock the girl out and drag her off somewhere until it wore off. Love I could deal with though. It was time to dance and the band was playing my song. I followed her to the elevator and slid my hand between the doors to keep it from closing. As it opened again I saw her all at once. She couldn't have been a day older than 19. A short tiny little thing, big breasts and a nice round ass. Her layered black hair and makeup were probably the most expensive things about her; well hidden underneath was an innocent face and beautiful eyes, though. The sharp hooker shoes I didn’t mind, but the little skirt and halter top had to go; someone like this should be in a pair of cut off shorts playing Frisbee with her dog on the beach, not going to get fucked over by some strange demon in his hotel room. The poor little thing.

“Hi,” I said, smiling and flashing my green eyes at her. “Going up?”

“Mhm,” she said as I got in. I caught her eyes and held them. The tangle of love Avrielle had wrapped around her was tight, but it wasn’t the work of a Cherub. I twirled my mind through it like fingers through hair and started to stroke at it softly. There was more there that she had tied it to in order to start the weave; her name was Kimmy and she loved orange soda and puppies and her mother, who was named Kasandra.

“My sister Kasandra has shoes like that,” I asked her, standing closer than I needed to. “She says they hurt her feet, though.”

“They do kinda hurt my toes,” Kimmy told me with her eyes still caught by mine. I winked and she leaned back against the elevator wall as it started moving upwards.

“Visiting a friend?” as she thought about Raguel I found the loose end, the place where some clumsy Elohim on the escalator down couldn’t have tied it. This girl had never met Raguel; not even a Cherub could bind that up tight enough for it to stick for any length of time. Avrielle had known it wouldn’t take long for Raguel to start feeding off of her or she would never have tried such a desperate plan in the first place. I slipped my mental fingers through it and wrapped it around them, drawing her close. Kimmy shifted on her heels and took a small step nearer to me. She smelled of mouthwash and bar soap. At least she was mostly clean…

“I’m going to see my love, Raguel,” she said.

“Known him long?” I asked, untwining more of the emotion woven around her and spiraling it into little loops about me. I felt more of it pull free from her as she tried to grasp at why she loved him.

“Nope,” she said, “but you know when you just know? It’s like that.”

Avrielle had drawn off of someone else to do this; there was more than one person’s love here. Probably that poor sap with her. It was crafty, but amateur hour by my standards. This was how young Cherubs do things when they haven’t yet learned how to work with what was in the subject instead of grabbing from around them. Ah well, she was new at doing anything beyond just feeling and responding, and for an Elohim she had done fairly well.

“Actually, I’ve never felt that,” I said to Kimmy. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. Love can be tough sometimes anyway. I’d rather play with my dog and drink orange soda.”

“Hey!” Kimmy said, turning so her shoulder and not her back was against the wall, facing towards me, “I like orange soda and dogs.”

“You don’t say?” I asked. This was so easy once you knew where to touch. I could see some of the loose strands I’d tugged out floating towards me like little tendrils of smoke. I used the ones I’d already pulled free to weave her in closer to me. “Do you like them, or love them?”

As she thought about it so she could answer those strands got stronger and I untangled them from the ones Avrielle had put there. The weaker and flimsier ones were twining around me in a stringy miasma now and I could see every twist and knot. When she answered “I love them” I gave the real ones another gentle shake and took a deep breath; the rest of Avrielle’s handiwork slipped free and into me. The elevator stopped on the floor I’d chosen and I led Kimmy out into the hallway. She was still going on about what kind of dogs she liked and I echoed her love for them in my every word.

So easy; that’s how I’d fallen in the first place. Love was one of the strongest things you could play with; what the Elohim would never understand is that though they could sense it like it was an emotion, it was more a force of nature. Why else would there be Cherubs and Elohim? Abusing that power, forcing it instead of nurturing it, is all it takes if you’re one of us. In the click of a finger you’re undone.

Kimmy on the other hand…I wassaving Kimmy. No harm here. Besides, I couldn’t just hold all of this in. I had to do something with it. And Kimmy needed something to do for a while. I put my keycard in the door of the room I’d booked to be close to Raguel and she followed me inside, still going on about ‘this one time when…’. I wasn’t really listening anymore, though. I had her already.

“Nice room,” she said, looking around and pushing on the mattress with her hand. I closed the door and walked up behind her, gently passing my hand over the bare skin of her shoulders as I passed. She leaned with my touch, lingering against my fingers as long as she could. I loved this part. She had wound herself up just by listening to herself talk about the things she loved. I was part of that now, and she looked at me mischievously as I sat on the couch. “Want some company?”

“I’d say that I do, it’s not every day you meet someone you have so much in common with, after all.”

She smiled warmly and came to sit beside me with her hand on my leg. There was still a lot of pent up energy in her, but it was hers now and not the work of another. Maybe sex work has seemed a logical choice to her at one point, she had a natural sensuality in her. It was buried deep though, no doubt the result of too many nasty encounters with nasty people asking her to do nasty things. It was time for that to change, I would sooner drop a priceless crystal than let her go back to wherever they’d found her. The poor thing. My natural pathos gripped the delicate strands of her own love I’d left hanging from her and squeezed gently. She took in a deep breath, smiled, and leaned her body against mine. I put my arm around her and she nuzzled closer with her arms going around my chest.

Well; now to work off the excess that didn’t belong. I caught her eye again and grinned at her. Her face lit up like a star and she kissed me. It was a delicate kiss, not some backseat fumble. It was probably the way she had kissed her first boyfriend not that many years ago. I let her kiss me for second, feeling her relax in my arms, before I started kissing back. When I did, she drew in a long breath through her nose and squirmed against me to slide into my lap with her legs draped over one of my legs. Kimmy put her hands behind me neck and slid them up into my hair as I let my fingers caress the sides of her round, firm breasts on their way to her waist.

Holding her by her slightly soft middle I pushed her down and stretched out beside her on the couch. I held one of her hips with one hand and the small of her back with the other. I let her make out with me on the couch, feeling the odd little tendril of past love flare or shift around in her. She was a very good kisser; you don’t learn that on the street. She was thinking about all the more innocent times in her life, missing them and trying to relive the feeling now, so I let her. I helped her. I touched her as she remembered being touched, I kissed her as she remembered being kissed. More than anything, Kimmy wanted to be loved and respected so that’s exactly what I did for her. I didn’t have to toy around or weave her about to do it, like everyone she just wanted to feel, and given the chance she did. There was a depth to her feelings; they all had it, no matter how hard they buried it.

Her body responded to the things she had denied herself for so long with only the slightest invitation. She wanted my hands on her skin so I pushed her stretchy little skirt over her soft beautiful hips and she wiggled free of it, pushing it to the floor with her foot. Naked underneath, she ground herself against me. She didn’t want to stop kissing me, so I didn’t let her. I pushed the black tube top down off her large breasts and slid it down her body and off over her hips as well. Her kissing had grown frantic as we’d lay there together, her tongue lashing around in my mouth as she lost herself in the things she had been ramming down deep inside. She pulled at my shirt and I let her undo the buttons herself; she wanted to feel in control so I let her. When she had it undone she stood up and pulled me to my feet; pushing my shirt down off my shoulders as she stood on her toes to push her lips back against mine. As she took small steps backwards towards the bed she expertly undid my belt and pants and pushed them down as well. She fells backwards onto the sheets, pulling me on top of her and between her legs.

She wanted me to move my body next to her, slow and sensual, so I did. We rolled in each other’s arms, our lips and hips locked together. She felt clean and pretty, so I touched her soft skin gently with my hands. When she reached between us and took my cock in both her hands I pushed my chest above her and looked into her eyes because she wanted me to. As she guided me into her she narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth. She felt powerful and sexy, wanted and desired. As I pushed into her waiting pussy put her hands on the mattress at her sides and pushed down, lifting her hips into me. She let out a long breath, quiet and sweet, once I was all the way in. As I moved slow and soft inside of her she drug her nails across the sheets and spread her hair out around her on the bed then put her hands on her breasts.

“This is so beautiful,” she breathed, tilting her hips up to meet me each time my cock went all the way into her. “This is perfect.”

“Because you’re beautiful,” I said softly back, “and because youre perfect, Kimmy.”

“Say my name again,” she whispered.

“You’re beautiful, Kimberly,” I whispered.

“Unnnnhh…” she moaned, getting wetter when I said her proper name. I lay on top of her, looking into her eyes as I made love to her. There were perfect little tears of joy beginning to overflow her made up eyelids and they traced little black rivulets of eyeliner down her cheeks. She moaned again and writhed up into me sensually. “Say it again.”

I lay down on top of her again, taking her into my arms and pushing as deep into her as slowly and softly as I could. I put my lips right over her ear, and she writhed even harder under me as I whispered, “Kimberly.”

With every third or fourth stroke she cried out, and with the rest she moaned in her rich sonorous tone. She wanted me to keep doing exactly what I was doing, so I did. Every now and then I’d whisper her name to her, telling her she was pretty, and she push her hips up to me harder. When I felt that she wanted me to move, I did. When she wanted me to stop and push deep into her, I did. When she finally wanted me to roll over so she was on top of me, I did. She lay flat atop me, swiveling and lifting her hips softly, locking lips with me again and sliding her tongue in and out of her mouth and into mine. She didn’t want me pushing around against her, so I let her make all the moves. When all the moans had been replaced with little groans and moans of raw pleasure she sat up straight on top of me, rocking her pelvis forward and back with me buried deep inside of her.

She held her breasts in her hands and massaged them, leaning her head down to lick them from time to time. It wasn’t good enough for her, so I leaned up and took her delicious, round ass in my hands and one of her breasts into my mouth, sucking at it with my lips and flicking her nipple with my tongue because she wanted me to. She leaned away and held my shoulders tight, digging her nails into my skin, straightening her arms and leaning back as far as she could. She bucked her hips up and down slowly, looking into my eyes as she fucked me. There was a peace on her face as her small tears slid down her slightly chubby little cheeks. Her mouth was only half open and her chin jerked down each time she pushed herself down on my cock. Her moans had become panted little sighs in a high breathy voice and she moved up and down faster for several minutes before pushing down once, hard, as I felt fresh wetness leaking out of her twitching pussy around my cock and she let out a long, slow, high moan and wrapped her arms around me with her face against my chest.

“I think I love you,” she whispered. She wanted to, so I let her; for now.

“I love you too Kimberly,” I whispered softly to her, rocking her slightly while her tears continued against my skin. It was true…I loved them all.

As I held her and rocked her, still inside of her pussy which clenched with each growing sob, she began to cry in earnest. She wanted to be held in someone’s strong arms and made to feel safe, so I did. She didn’t want to move, so we didn’t for a long time. She wanted to cry so I let her. Eventually she stopped and looked up to me.

“I’m probably an ugly mess now,” she said meekly.

“You’re beautiful,” I said for dozenth time, because she wanted me to. I kissed her again, once, softly on the lips. I wiped her cheeks with my hands and she kissed me back the same way.

“Thank you,” she whispered, my face between her hands and one new tear escaping the corner of her eye and slipping lazily down her cheek. It was all gone now, the excess strands and tendrils Avrielle had clumsily twined about her had faded. “You didn’t get to come…should I…?”

She didn’t want to. This was the line; the one I had crossed some time ago and had been trying to get back across for so long. This wouldn’t get me back, but it was a step in the right direction. She suddenly felt like a whore again, thinking about which way I would want her to get me off. It was now or never so I chose now. “No, you don’t have to.”

Relief washed over. I didn’t have to be an empath or read her mind to know that, it was obvious as her whole body relaxed. She moved her hips slightly with me still inside of her and something new flared inside of her; she felt in control again. She felt choice again. Suddenly, she did want to; because she chose to, not because she had to. She lifted herself off of me and slid to her hands and knees between my legs.

She looked me in the eye and smiled her tiny little small town girl smile at me and took my cock in her hand. She looked down at it and kissed the end, looking up at me again. She licked the tip with her tongue and kissed it once more. Kimberly took it into her mouth then, sucking gently at my head with undulations of her tongue and small motions of her head. The feel of her hair on my legs was wonderful. She wanted to make me feel good, so I let her. Whereas before I’d held back with every ounce of my being so that she would get what she needed, now I was what she needed. Restraint fled. I pushed her hair from her cheek slowly and she looked into my eyes once more, bobbing her head up and down. She was thinking about how long she had wanted to do this for a good reason and that peace fueled her passion. She swiveled her head around, the end of my cock just barely past her lips, with her tongue sliding along the underside of my shaft. I loved this part, too. I always had.

Wet sucking and slurping noises came from around my cock and Kimberly began sliding her mouth down its length and back up quickly and with certainty. Her hands, fingers locked together, matched her lips, wet and slippery from her saliva running down from her mouth. She wanted me to come, and so I did. As I pulsed and jumped a third of the way in her mouth she sucked her cheeks in against me and swallowed over and over as I filled her throat and covered her undulating tongue with my fluid. When she had swallowed it all, she slowly slid her mouth off of me. As she leaned up and looked at me one string of spit and cum stretched from her bottom lip to the head of my cock and then dripped off her chin. She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist and I took her cheeks in my hands and guided her face to mine, kissing her deeply because she wanted me to. Our tongues moved slowly together as we lay beside each other on the bed.

As she fell asleep in my arms, she thought about how when she woke up she was going to leave the city. Take the wad of money she’d been paid and get the hell out of LA. Go somewhere and start again, get off the street. She was pretty, she was beautiful, she was Kimberly, not ‘Kimmy’. I felt it was true by the strands of love she was weaving around herself, tying them off where they’d been broken or frayed long ago. I helped, weaving fast what on its own would have been clumsy little knots too easy to pull apart. Once I knew she wouldn’t wake up I slipped from her arms and got dressed. Using the hotel notepad and pen I wrote her a note that said “Keep your promises” and left it and her wad of money by the bed on the little nightstand. I leaned to kiss Kimberly on the forehead and told her one last time that I loved her and slipped quietly out of the room. I’d already paid for the room, but I stopped and requested a late check out the next day.

“Now that’s how you do it,” I thought to myself, happy with how this had turned out so far.

I stepped into the cool LA evening. It was a few hours before dawn, but the sky was never really black anyway. The cool orange glow of a city by night was comforting; it told me that no matter what time it might be someone out there needed me. I’d ruined Avrielle’s clumsy plan, and for that I truly felt bad, but what she had had in mind just wouldn’t have done at all. I was glad Aliona had called me. She knew when she did it that it was time for desperate measures; how she was going to explain to her sister what she had asked and who she had asked it of was another matter, for another time. For now there was still someone else out there who was missing a little bit of love. I still had a small scrap of it coiled around my fingers like soft string, and I was going to find him. Christopher. It was a nice name.

I hailed a cab and got in. “Yeah, I’ gonna get it all back.”

anonymous readerReport

2012-09-09 14:11:00
These images are fstatanic! Very nice. You did a great job with the makeup! It came out so subtle yet stunning in a way that it enhanced Arianas natural beauty. I am a firm believer in less is more, and in her case, the makeup wasn't over the top. It was just right. Excellent work!Im going to add your blog to my site so folks can see your great work!

anonymous readerReport

2012-02-11 19:46:56
TUEUuZ Author, keep doing in the same way..!

anonymous readerReport

2011-08-17 03:39:10
Wow. I'm going to sound like a child but the last bit made me tear up. Quite a lot, actually.
As always, your stories are well written and you keep astonishing me with your ability to balance the beautiful and the messy. But that's life, isn't it?

anonymous readerReport

2011-08-17 03:15:22
Wow. I'm going to sound like a child but the last bit made me tear up. Quite a lot, actually.
As always, your stories are well written and you keep astonishing me with your ability to balance the beautiful and the messy. But that's life, isn't it?

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