Clink. Crash.
Glass burst into million pieces. Reflecting the indoor light, the shards sparkled like pixie dust in the night.
A body followed the broken pieces on their way down into oblivion. Blood was seeping from his mutilated wings and gut. The murder weapon, an executioner blade, was still stuck in his body.
"Fuck."
Without his wings, there was nothing he could do to break his fall. Was this really the end for him? Was there nothing the great Alric, son of archangel Gabriel, could do?
But try as he might, Alric hadn't inherited any skills from his father. Up to now, he had just been an ordinary angel. The only indication of his high heritage was his glittering cream-colored feathers. But now, his beautiful wings had been unceremoniously cut off. He had become scum. A wretched Wingless.
"I guess this is what I deserve," he whispered to himself as he fell deeper and deeper, past the end of Gabriel Corporation Tower, the platform it was floating on, head-first into a black wall in the sky. It was a magical barrier created of clouds to keep intruders from casually entering the realm of winged beings, The Heaven. Or, as in this rather pressing case, to prevent winged beings from intruding on The Surface unchecked.
If there was one thing Alric had to commend about his assistant, it was that he was meticulous. Even when murdering someone, apparently. Alric remembered the look in that angel's eyes. They were so full of joy as if he had satisfied the most primal of urges. Who knew that hidden beneath that meek personality hid a demon?
As the clouds drew closer, he could hear the roaring thunder grow louder. What would happen first? Would he get struck by lightning and burn to ashes? Or would his sorry corpse have to be wiped off the top of a skyscraper? Regardless of the scenario, the outcome was equally dire.
The blood loss and fall height began to cloud his mind. Finally accepting his fate, the wingless angel closed his eyes. And so he neither saw the burst of light heading towards him at a fast speed nor did he hear the frantic cries growing louder, calling his name.
"Alric!"
Alric woke up, propelling himself upright in bed. A wave of sharp pain penetrated his entire body, but it quickly subsided. He attributed it to drinking too much at the show. Really, why hadn't Samael stopped him?
"What a nightmare," he muttered, giving out a short laugh. "Losing my wings and becoming a pack mem-"
Shocked, he looked around to find himself not lying in the comfortable king-sized bed of his luxury suite. Instead, he had been lying on a small rusty metal frame bed in a very dingy room. A simple bulb was dangling from the ceiling, badly illuminating the vicinity. Cracks ran along both the wall and ceiling. The air was filled with the stench of filth and urine, making Alric sick. And was that a mouse that just squeaked somewhere in the shadow?
As he tried to hold his breath to avoid smelling, he noticed a mirror on the opposite side of the room. Even though his body still felt weak, Alric stumbled out of bed to gaze upon his reflection.
There it was.
His nightmare had come true.
The jagged black lines on his right cheek were unmistakably the sign of a Pride pack member. Alric cursed under his breath as he rubbed against the tattoo, hoping it would disappear.
Then he noticed his wings. Or, instead, the lack thereof. Cleanly sliced off at the base, with only two sorry-looking stumps protruding from his back. The typical scar of an angel convict. Unwanted and unable to function in a world meant for flying, the Wingless was exiled to The Surface, left to fend for themselves, and quickly forgotten. Alric gasped. How could he end up like this? Surely The Heaven was looking for him? The stinging pain in his abdomen did not subside, so he decided to look. There was a blood-soaked bandage where the knife had stabbed him. He was about to touch it when a voice from the left caught his attention.
"I see. You're finally awake."
It was her. The Pride Matriarch. Fiera. The person he hated the most. She stood in the door frame, her eyes glowing red in the half-light. If it weren't for her ram-shaped horns and bat-like wings, Alric would have considered her a dating candidate. Alas, he had no love for succubi and Fiera in particular. After all, she was a direct rival to his company.
"What is the meaning of this?" He bellowed, driving his fist into the wall next to the mirror. The force of his blow caused him to gasp again as sharp pain continued to riddle his entire body. Alric wanted to erase this embarrassing moment, but he noticed the amusement on her face.
She chuckled slightly. "You don't remember? I saved your life, you piece of wasted space. So better start practicing that non-existent humility of yours."
"What... happened?" His vision began to spin. He felt himself losing the strength in his legs. Helpless, he tried to lean against the wall for support, but to no avail. Before Alric fell to the ground, Fiera dashed to his side and held him up. Her grip was firm yet gentle enough to feel somewhat comforting.
This irked the proud angel. How dare she touch him!
"I'm fine," he hissed, unsuccessfully trying to shake her off.
"I see that," she commented in a sarcastic tone. Without needing to enforce it, Fiera was able to guide Alric back to bed. One moment later, she had tucked him in like a mother.
"How... why am I here?" Alric strained his memory, but all he could remember was the face of his assistant as he gleefully ordered his execution.
"Samael!" He wanted to get up again, but Fiera held him down with little effort.
"Ah, so it was really just as my gut feeling told me," she said, somewhat lost in thought.
How true she had been with her intuition. Alric had laughed at the ridiculous idea she had presented after the two had attended a pitch. How could his trustworthy, subservient assistant Samael be capable of doing any harm?
But here he stood, no, lay, corrected. And Alric wasn't so sure what caused him more pain, the wounds caused by Samael or Fiera being correct.
Another question entered his mind. How in the three worlds did he survive?
As if she had anticipated the question, the succubus began to speak.
"According to your brother, he was able to catch you right before entering the barrier. Using his ability of short-term foresight, he was able to maneuver you two safely through to The Surface. And that's where he stumbled into me."
"My brother? Eros? Where is he?"
"On duty. Likely, you won't see him for a while."
"Huh?!"
"I have struck a bargain with him. Your life for his services. Seemed more than fair to him, and so he willingly agreed."
"And for that, I had to become... a rat." Alric contorted his face in disgust.
But Fiera was not having it. Grabbing him by the collar of his torn and blood-soaked expensive shirt, she pulled him up close to her face.
"Now listen here, Mr. Idol-CEO," she hissed. Her breath smelled of sweet plum wine. Alric found himself craving to taste it off her dark lips. "Our disdain for another is very mutual. So remember, I did this to use your brother and his skill set. If it had been only you, I would have let you smack the ground full force and stepped on whatever was left of you!"
Angered, she let him drop to the bed. The worn mattress did nothing to soften the impact on the bed frame. Alric yelped in pain.
Pang!
Something metal hit his head. When he retrieved it, he realized it was the executor knife that had been meant to kill him.
"Since it was in your body, you get to keep it. Not like I can use Enochian weapons in the first place."
"What... what happens now?" He genuinely had no idea where to go from here.
"For now, you'll recuperate here. You will be rooming with another new Epsilon member who will keep an eye on you." She leisurely walked back to the door. "I also advise you to keep a low profile. Seems like your assistant is playing the innocent game, pretending not to know what happened."
And finally, with a threatening look in her eye, she added, "don't you dare bring my pack in danger. I have no qualms about ending your life. Your brother won't be able to save you a second time. Good night." After shutting off the light, she left, her high-heeled steps fading into the distance. All Alric could do for now was stare at the cracks above before sleep carried him away to happier times.