I could see myself in Samael's arms, him weeping over my blue, barren flesh, frozen to the touch.
But I was too far gone.
Eve had grip of my soul, a pissed off ex-girlfriend who demanded I knew
Who he was:
I remember a time when he Samael not hardened. When the Tree was a hollow husk.
He looked at himself and wept, knowing what he would become. Hell's warden and Judge, the one that children fear and men curse.
In the red morning his brother found him.
"What have you done?" Michael roared. His flaming sword fell from his hands and golden Michael fell to his knees. The archangel's cries filled the sky like thunder. To him, Samael was hideous, unwhole and impure, with a love that had corrupted him. He had stolen heavenly fire and given it to a mortal that shouldn't exist.
He would have killed me, I suppose, if Samael hadn't stopped him.
