Obedience_235 has a minion!

Ashes the Harees

He rolled over in bed and groaned, peering through squinting eyes at the flashing numbers on his digital clock. 9.09am. He got up. On his way to the bathroom, the blinking red light on his answering machine caught his attention. Yawning, he clicked the 'messages' button.

"You have two new messages," blared the computerised female voice "Message one:" it clicked and suddenly a female voice he recognised all-too-well was heard. He smiled as he listened to the message.

"Hey.. You know, you should really pick up your phone more often," a soft laugh "..but I guess you're still asleep. I know you too well." He could practically hear her grin. "Listen, I'm coming over now, I'll be there in a few. I just wanted to say - I love you!"

Click.

"Message sent at 8.17pm. To replay this message, press one. To delete, press two. To call back the user, press three."

Beeeeeeeeeep.

"Message two."

Click.

"Hello, this is St Mark's Hospital. We would appreciate it if you could make your way over here as soon as possible. One of your friends is currently being held. This is a matter of great urgency-". Dropping the phone, he could feel a heavy layer of panic clenching his gut. Gasping for breath, he dashed out of the door and onto the street, leaving it unlocked in his haste. The hospital wasn't far and he ran the entire distance in ten minutes, the panic growing with each step. He skidded into the reception and slapped his hands on the desk. The receptionist looked up, startled.

"Someone left a message for me. One of my friends was brought in a few hours ago?"

"Oh," the receptiontist looked sad. "Name?" He told her and watched the sadness on her face grow.

"Room number twenty-five." He sped away and skidded down the first corridor, bursting through the door with '25' stamped on it.

There was a soft beeping from the heart monitor beside the bed, but apart from that no sound. The figure was breathing shallowly and turned her head to the door when he entered. A doctor silently stood up and made his way over.

"I'm so sorry...Not much longer...Goodbyes" his mind blocked out most of the doctor's words as he waited for him to leave. Once he did, he approached the bed slowly and knelt beside it, holding her hand. Tears shone in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, clutching his hand tighter and squeezing her eyes shut in pain, making the tears roll streak down her cheeks.

"Don't be," he said, stroking her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," she smiled, then she gasped again and gritted her teeth. "I guess, I'll see you in the next life, eh?"

"Promise?" He could feel himself close to tears.

"Promise," she smiled again. He kissed her and smiled at her whilst her eyes grew heavier and the beeping slowed. She stroked the back of his hand. His tears started flowing.

'God.. Please don't let her die. Please. Please! I'd do anything..' he desperately pleaded inside his own mind, watching solemnly as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

The door smashed against the wall.

"Hello," hissed a voice. He turned around and saw a male of average height leaning against the doorframe. He had short black hair and was wearing an average jeans/t-shirt combination. What was really unnerving, was his eerie grin.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly, fuming for him disturbing her last few moments.

"You should know by now that there's no god," he whispered, sidling over. "Only me." His eyes glinted. "How badly do you want her to live?" his gazed flicked to the figure in the bed.

"I'd give anything," he whispered hoarsely, gripping her hand tightly and forgetting his rage.

"Anything? Do you mean that?" the man asked.

"Yes."

"Even.. Your soul?" the man smiled wickedly again.

"That's not even possible."

"...Really?" the man waved a hand and a flower on the windowsill wilted and died. Another wave, and it straightened up and regained it's colour, life renewed. "It's as easy as that." The other man was agape.

"And all you want.. Is my soul?" he snorted. "Sure, whatever, just save her!"

"As you wish." Another snap of the fingers and a scroll poofed into existence right in front of his nose. "Sign, if you will?" A smirk as he handed a quill. "In blood."

"...Right," he dismissed the stranger as a nutcase. Suddenly, the bleeping stopped. "No!" he cried, desperately tearing a chunk of flesh out of his hand with his teeth. He stabbed the tip of the quill into it and signed his name, not even reading it. "SAVE HER!" he bellowed. The man grinned, grabbing the scroll and it disappeared.

"Of course, slave." His eyes shone red briefly and he made a claw shape with his hand, yanking it sharply upwards like one would with a puppet. Her lifeless body gasped, her chest arching off the bed and her arms automatically reaching upwards, clawing at the air.

"You're coming with me," said Satan.

Everything went blurry. He tried to reach out to her, but he couldn't move. He could barely see her, her face was staring at him in pure horror.

"What.. Have... You... Done?" her words were muffled and in slow motion. He desperately tried to answer, but failed. Suddenly, he felt weightless and looked down - there was no floor, just raging fire. He plunged through the depths, and just when it seemed like he'd never stop falling, his body cracked against a brimstone floor. He tried to get up but found he still couldn't move.

"Welcome, you foolish, foolish creature." Satan was now seated in a regal-like, high-backed chair, grin bigger than ever. Satan flicked a hand and he could feel his body rising off the floor slowly, stopping at eye-level and hanging suspended from nothing.

"Hmm.. Let's see." Satan said it like an artist might speak whilst inspecting a blank canvas. He clicked. "I know." More hand movements, more complicated this time.

He screamed in pain. Every bone in his body felt like it was being broken. His white fur turned blue and wings burst through the skin on his back, bones knitting into place and making him scream in agony. A gleaming halo sailed through the air and threaded itself onto the tip of his tail.

"You will be my Angel," Satan said. "My mock Angel. My Obedience."

Shackles formed around his neck and ankles and Obedience crumpled to the floor.

"Hey, you. Yes, you. Guess what? You're dead. No need to look so dumbstruck, it happens to everybody; and to be quite frank, I don't care. Don't start unloading your sob stories of unfinished life goals and left behind lovers on me! Save that for the angels - if you get there.

On that note, I'll give you twelve seconds to mourn your life whilst I look at your history.

Well, record.

...Well. Weren't so good, were we? You remember that child from-.. Judging by your face, you remember. No, you can't repent now, you're already dead. Just to point out the obvious.

My name? Obe. And, sorry kid, but you're definitely coming with me.

Down
we
go."