∆ngels,Ðemons and ℭambions OH ♏Y! ☢Ω

AXNO
The angel played around with his blue fire, Tossing it around with his hands, he was awaiting orders from Mr. God Almighty himself to go out hunting Nephilims. When he was bored playing with the fire he got up from the desk he was at and walked out the room he was in. Axno walked down the hallway, and went into the training room. He quickly went to the weapons rack and got his sword and Dagger. The angel faced the dummy in front of him and swiftly beheaded it with his sword. He moved onto the next one, Stabbing it in the gut, sand spilling out from the cut.

"Have fun, kid." Seyzel stated simply, as he watched the poor boy's burning soul being dragged to Hell. Although he'd seen it many times before, he never got tired of seeing the ground rip open, listening to the cries and pleads, and watching the person disappear in a flash of flames. Once it was over, anyone passing by wouldn't be able to tell what went down.

What was worse was that this Cambion happened to be at home with his family when Seyzel found him. The demon watched from the window as he had dinner with him. The darkness of his clothes kept him blended in with the dark of the night. Once the boy had finished, Seyzel carefully walked around to the other side of the apartment building, following the boy to his room. The window was opened, fortunately, making this one an easy kill.

Now he had to figure out what to do with the body. The demon picked up the boy's body, heavy as lead now, and carried it over to his bed. He tucked the body in under the covers, so the boy appeared to be sleeping. That's what his family would think when they came to wake him up in the morning; atleast before they checked his pulse. Hopefully, they would think he died of natural causes, as families often did when their kid was taken by him.

After getting the kid snuggled into his bed, Seyzel checked his watch. Not much longer now, he thought, climbing back out of the window.

Demonia panted heavily, exhausted with her recent encounter with a demon that tried to capture her. She wasn't going to allow herself to become a slave to that damned Satin. She was extremely weak due to the illusion she had to pull to get herself away from him, it would only hold him for a little while but she had to stay out of sight in case he came looking again. She tucked herself in an alley way of the town she was trapped in and slid to the ground as her back was up against the wall. Demonia was a Cambion, but she looks at it as being prey for the demons that were after her kind. A mixture of demon and human blood that should have never mixed, she heard the same situation with the angels, but unfortunate for them those halflings were being killed for their sins. Though being a slave didn't seem any better, being killed almost seemed like a blessing.

After a few moments she calmed herself and sat cross legged with her scythe laying over her lap, there wasn't one moment that she didn't feel safe, didn't feel like there was a reason to stop running, she just wanted things to end. So many times she has seen souls being dragged down to hell and it was an experience she hated to watch over and over, every scream echoed in her mind and it almost drives her to the point of insanity. The sad looks on the families faces scarred her memories, it always ached her heart and she was mad at herself that she couldn't do nothing about it. Her arms wrapped around her stomach, she hadn't eaten in quite a while but letting her guard down just for food would just be a danger to herself, then again there was never a time she could really let her guard down.

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Aaron Song watched the earth from a distance of between it and the moon. He watched it and pondered. Wondering its existence. The inhabitants are still so very young, and yet they have traits that are very rare. Such a wide verity of emotions and personalities lay within this planet. Perhaps that is why so many of his brothers and sisters choose to find lovers here, on this world. He sighs heavily, waiting for orders, waiting for something that he detest. As old as he is, he prefers the company of either just himself, or something of this physical plane. Over time he has chosen not to have the company of heaven, as his brothers and sisters always seem overly zealous to strike down anything that goes against the higher authority. He wishes there were other ways of dealing with these kinds of things. That seems what he mostly does now, wishes and waits.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The cambion glared at him as a hole opened up and sucked him in. John was actually sorry for him but couldn't do anything about it. He sighed, it was the first cambion he captured. It would've been his end on earth if he failed which would be followed by even more torture. The cambion would've defeated him if John didn't take him by surprise. John exited the building and started walking down the road.

I do not remember the day I was handed over to the Wendals. They tell me it was in the middle of Spring, on a cool evening with clear skies. They were very surprised to receive me - it is not often that a family is handed over a child to take care of. They were willing though, to my fortune. They had been attempting for many years with no success, and they accepted me with no real argument. In that way, they raised me as their own. I still refer to them as Mom and Dad, even after discovering my real heritage. There was no one else worthy of such a role in the sixteen years prior to that knowledge.

When they sat me down one hot summer day, another year added to my name, the truth had not hit as hard as expected. My appearance was just too different for me not to suspect it over the years. They were clearly Nephilims, and I Cambion. It did not affect our relationship. But it did explain what occurred in the next few days. Or at least a bit of the atrocity. Nothing could fully explain it. Never.

I was coming back from the mill that day. The owner, Cobb, had received a big request for lumber from someone in the palace. We celebrated our good fortune into the night, and although I was not given alcohol like the rest, I was just as drunk off the excitement as the rest of them. And I staggered home in a euphoria. I can remember how the house looked that night. the lights were all on, and a fire must have been going in the hearth, since smoke rose from the house in great billows. It did not take me long to realize that it was not just from the chimney that the smoke arose.

I ran inside to find the place trashed and in flames. Devil flames, I noticed. They burned blue like ice, and hotter than any furnace. I try not to recall how the Wendals looked as I dragged their corpses from the burning house and into the night. I then tried to save the house, but Devil flames burn strong - the house was reduced to black charred tinder within the hour.

I buried them that very night. The longest night of my life. It was also the night I made a promise to no one in particular but myself. That those who had done this would pay. Pay with their lives.

It has been two years since then and I'm still chasing the trail of their killers. The city streets here are new to me, and I'm having trouble finding the place of my lead. I'm walking past a small park when I notice her.

She's sitting cross-legged on a bench, breathing heavily. Long black hair trails in pigtails down her back, her dress shining red and blue in the sunlight. The bared shoulders revealed the tattoo of a trumpet flower. The large scythe surprises him. It looked heavy, but she laid it down on her lap like it weighed nothing at all. But what surprised him most of all were her eyes. A dark red. Cambion, he thought. Like him. A strange curiosity drew him nearer to her.

"Hello? Are you alright?"

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Floating just above the Earth's atmosphere, Aaron Song wonders about the people he may meet on this new journey, no matter how brief. He prepares himself for the transition. In his metaphysical form, time goes by far more faster than it does for any kind of mortal. Decades can pass by mere seconds to something like him, however when he must retain a mortal form, time slows down tremendously, his energy condenses, becoming the same level as the more physical world. He must take a mortal form so that his being does not destroy any human, for if a mortal being looks upon his true essence, their earthy bodies could not handle its magnificence, and they will be destroyed.

Aaron Song communes with the Earth's spirit. Talking with it as if they were old friends. He has visited earth many times, learning from its forests and deserts, oceans and valleys. He knows much can be learned from these kinds of things. He does not take these planetary bodies for granted, as their inhabitants often do. He asks for permission to come to Earth, and for its help when he may ask for, and She grants it.

He allows the gravitational pull of the Earth to take him him, like two old friends embracing each other after years apart. The heat of the atmosphere is amazing, burning brightly against his being. For most angels when they visit a planet, they do so in a far more direct fashion. Intruding onto the planet instantly as if they were masters of its domain, but not Aaron Song. He follows a ritual of respect and care. He continues to fall to the planet. The atmosphere now searing against his body, slowly condensing and becoming physical. He falls, burning bright, towards the sea. He appears as if he were a falling star of the greatest caliber, burning bright like the sun. He breaks into the ocean, cooling him down. He floats, experiencing the long forgotten feeling of what its like to be half conscious, but the Earth will not allow its friend to be taken by her waters. She holds him and takes him, looking after him, washing away the dirt and debris. The Earth takes Aaron Song and sets him on the soft golden sand of the sore, as if it were a soft bed in the sun.

Awakening in a pleasant daze, smiling towards the sky, the breeze massaging his wings. He is of the physical plane now, but of a good one. The surrounding is ever so beautiful to him, a magnificent existence, but he recalls his mission, and it saddens him. Wishing that he was here for different reasons, but knowing his task, he prefers to get it over with and be done with the matter. He calls forth a dozen cherubs. They come to him in the form of magnificent orbs of light. He instructs them to go and find the ones he himself has been sent to stalk. They listen and confirm, then as if they were shards of light, shattering in many direction for the ones they must locate. Their essence fade, and Aaron Song looks ahead. He tucks his wing in, and calls onto himself an appearance of his choosing, a long bright brown overcoat, as well jeans, a black shirt and boots. He must conceal his golden armor that he usually has himself fitted with, but it will appear again when finds beings far greater, and far more dangerous than mortal humans. He stride forwards, in search of those that are great and dangerous.

Samantha walked down the street casually, swaying every little but, still high off of her night and the club, the money in her chest and the alcohol in her throat. Drinking had been a usual thing for her now, it was a way to not think about how she could be taken at any moment. That's all that she got to look forward to in her life; death by angel. Maybe if her mother hadn't to have been such a whore she could be better. Maybe be in school still. Maybe getting grades. Going to prom. Things normal kids do. But instead she was here, staggering down the street where her last appointment had left her. She focused on walking straight, but failed often, always catching herself before her fall. Eventually, she got close enough to her building, stopped in the alley, and her knees gave out.
"Oh fuck it." She said, leaning against the wall.

Fredrick watch Samantha drunkenly parade down the street before disappearing into an alley. He followed her in. "Well, hello," he said. "It looks like you've had a bit of a rough night, haven't you?"

"Possibly." Samantha said, only now realizing how stupid she is. She tried to sober up, narrowing her eyes to a spot on the mans forehead.
"I'm closed tonight though so I'd recommend you moving on."
She was debating her options out as she talked, and tried to resist pulling a gun from her long coat pocket.