Chapter 23

Déjà vu struck me as I made my way down into the cells. I had done this before; made the exact same walk to visit the exact same prisoner being held captive in the exact same place. I had been on my way to free him, too. So, why did this time feel so infinitely different?

It was as if these two separate moments were worlds apart.

Entire universes apart.

I had expected to find Abaddon standing in his cell, pacing angrily, desperate to be released. Instead, I found him lying on a bed in his cell, one arm tucked behind his head, one knee raised up. His wings were gone, tucked away for comfort. His horns, though—there was no hiding the marks of the sinner, and those looked uncomfortable as all hell.

Pun not intended.

Abaddon perked up as I entered the main dungeon area. He then struggled to sit upright as I approached the door to his cell. He wasn't alone; one of Azrael's armored angels stood guard, his sword at his side, his hand on the pommel. I asked the angel to give us some privacy, but the angel seemed hesitant. I had to ask a second time to get the angel to leave the room.

When Abaddon and I were alone, I came up to the bars of his cell fully. Abaddon took a deep breath in through the nose, then exhaled. His eyes didn't have that red sheen about them, but the rest of him… there were marks all over his body. Cracks and veins of deep purple that crawled along his skin in an almost artful way.

"Have I been sentenced, yet?" he asked.

"I'm here to release you," I said, then paused. "Again."

"These angels are too soft on their prisoners."

"I told them not to hurt you. I begged them to heal you, in fact. I told them how you saved my life and rescued me from Lucifer."

Abaddon scoffed. "Rescued you," he shook his head. "I did no such thing, only prolonged our suffering."

"Because of you, I'm not suffering right now. Neither are you."

Abaddon turned his eyes up at me, and I saw clearly now how deep the marks across his face and neck were. On the outside, it looked like him… I could still see the angel whose image I held firmly in my mind during my time in the Pit and in Hell, but that wasn't his face anymore. There was a pallor to it that wasn't there before, his cheeks looked a little more sunken than I remembered, and there was a strange blue light behind his eyes I had never seen before.

I couldn't understand why, but the color in his eyes, the flickering… it made me feel hungry.

"Look at me," he said, "do I look like I am not suffering?"

"Lucifer hurt you," I said, "and he's going to pay for what he's done."

"Lucifer may have tricked me, promised me he would bring you back only to get me to do his bidding, but I did what he asked me to do all the same and I am marked for it. There is no going back from here, Sarakiel. You would do well to stay away from me."

I shook my head. "I'm not going to abandon you."

"You should!" he barked, standing upright and yelling in one quick motion. "You should. There is more blood on my hands than there has ever been before. Angel blood, human blood—to me, it was all the same. Lucifer asked, and I did as he commanded."

"You were lied to."

"Perhaps I was, but there is no denying that I did my job well. Efficiently. Without a second thought."

"Abaddon—"

"No, you are not listening to me, Sarakiel. I do not deserve…" he stopped himself before continuing. I could see the pain on his face, the struggle taking place inside of him. The things he was saying, the confession he had just made, it was abhorrent. The thought of Abaddon wantonly murdering humans and cutting angels down at Lucifer's command—it hurt.

Deeply.

I wasn't about to brush any of that aside or pretend like I was fine with the destruction he had wrought over the past year, but it was true that he had been manipulated. Abused for his strength, and for his weaknesses. I wanted him to see there was still Light inside of him, despite all the wrongs he had done.

"The threat I pose is too great," he said.

I frowned at him. "Threat?" I asked.

"I can feel it, Sarakiel… and I believe you can feel it also."

I swallowed. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Do not lie to me, Lightbringer. You felt it the moment you looked me in the eyes, that gnawing hunger growing inside of you. It is an affliction, an infection, and it is contagious."

"I did feel it…" I said, pausing. "What is it?"

"You brought me here… it was your Light that sustained me because I cannot generate my own."

"What are you saying?"

"I am marked beyond repair, Sarakiel. I have sinned too much. I am becoming Wretched."

"Don't say that."

"I say it because it is true. I should have been able to heal my own injuries after my fight with Lucifer. I should have been able to sustain myself, enough to be able to fly on my own power at least."

"Lucifer did something to you. Weakened you, somehow."

He shook his head. "I survived only because you gave me your Light. If not for that, I would be dead by now… or worse, the hunger would have grown too strong for me to control, and I would have… hurt you."

"Hurt me?"

"The Wretched hunt and consume angels for their Light because they have none of their own. Because they would die without it."

"You aren't a twenty-foot flying monster with a horn for a voice."

"Not yet, but I fear my transition has begun. So long as I am near you… I am a threat to you. I do not want to hurt you, Sarakiel."

I shook my head. "I won't let you turn."

"You cannot stop this. No one can. Soon, I shall become Wretched, and you will have to kill me. I do not wish to live as they do."

"Abaddon…" I breathed against the bars. "What are you saying?"

"You are not listening to me!" he said, frustration mounting. "Do not let me out of this cell, do you understand? In fact, find a weapon, and end me."

"You want… me to kill you…"

"Put an end to my reign. Ariuk said I would become the King of the Ashes, and that you would be my undoing. Fulfil your destiny, Sarakiel. Do it while you have the chance… but forgive me first."

Tears.

I felt them well up in my eyes, and when I blinked, they fell. "You're asking me to forgive you, and then kill you."

Abaddon dropped to his knees and reached for my hand through the bars. "I am not asking you, Sarakiel. I am begging you. You cannot stop what has begun. No one can."

I could see it, now. The light behind his eyes wasn't always there, and it wasn't just blue. It flickered and sparked, appearing then disappearing—like lightning. Like the lightning in the clouds that signals the presence of the Wretched; those dragon-like creatures that lived in the sky.

Former angels who had sinned past the point of return.

Angels who were once like Abaddon.

"I'm… not going to do that," I said, though my voice faltered.

"You must," he said.

"I won't kill you, Abaddon."

"Please. You don't have a choice. I will hurt you, Sarakiel. I will hurt everyone here, and I will want to. Please."

I shook my head. "No," I said. "You're going to get up, and we're going to fight together. One more time."

"You still are not listening to me."

"No, you listen!" I hissed. "The man I love is stuck behind bars, begging me to end his life. I am done making choices because there appear to be no alternatives. I'm making an alternative, and you are going to have to deal with that."

"What alternative, Sarakiel? I am becoming Wretched. I have killed?—"

"—and if you want forgiveness for the things you have done, you shall have it. But I won't end your life. That's not what you want, and it's selfish of you to ask."

"How do you know what I want?"

"Because I know who you are. You asked for my forgiveness, and you have it. I forgive you, Abaddon. I absolve you of your sins, as much as I can at any rate. But only if you get back up on your feet and you promise that you'll resist Lucifer with me until your dying breath, if you must."

Abaddon's inner turmoil only deepened. Grew. If what he was saying was true, then he was in fact a danger to us all. The Wretched were incredibly powerful beings capable of almost unmatched destructive power; power I had witnessed first-hand.

That Abaddon was becoming one of these creatures… I didn't know what the process was, or how quickly an angel transitioned to become one of the Wretched. He was looking a little rough, but he hadn't grown a prehensile tail yet, nor had he grown to become the size of a house. There had to be time, and there had to be a way to reverse this.

Somehow.

Abaddon stood, though it took him a moment to get on his feet. "I will fight," he said. "I will fight for you, and I will not let Lucifer touch you."

"You're the only one of us who has fought him and survived. I need you. We need you."

He nodded. "Tell me what I have to do," he said, a look of steely determination on his face.

"I want you to pull yourself together and be the Abaddon I knew, not the King of the Ashes. That is not who you really are, and you know that."

"And if I don't? What if I have lost sight of who I was?"

"Then let me help you find him," I said, reaching for his chest through the bars. "Let me help you find the angel who risked his life for me in Heaven, the angel who broke the back of an archangel for hurting me, the angel who would do anything to find his way back to me."

Abaddon let his forehead drop against the bars. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply. I felt his heart beating gently under the palm of my hand. "This I will do," he said.

I let my own forehead rest against the same bar. "I missed you," I said. "All I had to keep me going were thoughts of you."

"You survived Hell," he said. "I cannot imagine your ordeal."

"I'll tell you about it if we survive this."

The door to the dungeons opened suddenly, and in the doorway appeared Azrael clad in her rose-tinted full-plate armor. She glanced at me, then stared at Abaddon—at the monster she had caged up and was about to release.

"He's here," she said.

"Lucifer…" said Abaddon, his jaw tightening.

Azrael moved towards the cell, and with a wave of her hand she made the doors unlock. Just like that, Abaddon was free to leave—and perhaps Azrael expected him to. Instead, he came up to her, shoulders rolling, and lowered his head.

"You are the commander of this bastion," he said to her. "Command me."

Azrael's entire body tensed at their proximity. She didn't want him here, didn't want him anywhere near here, but she understood the tactical significance of having him on our side.

"You're the only one who has spent time with Lucifer," she said. "I need you to tell me everything you know about him. And if you twitch, even a little bit…"

"My allegiance is to Sarakiel. Come, I will tell you what I know."

Abaddon started up the stairs, and Azrael followed. I trailed them, unable to keep dread from icing my stomach. This was it. The last stand, the last fight. The battle for the very soul of the world. It was time to end this, once and for all.