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Description
Sean stared between both the man and the woman. He knew it wasn't himself putting off this aura.
“Mark?” The half Korean man only stared at the demoness, who had reeled her arm in. The flesh began knitting back together at a rapid pace. His lack of response prompted Sean to speak again.
“Mark...why don't you trust _____?” When their eyes met, Sean could see the hurt and betrayal in his brown eyes.
“She LIED to us. About us being part angel. About her being a fucking demon. About everything! What else has she lied to us about? Has she lied about being our friend?-!” It was then that Sam lifted out of his charge’s hair and whipped his tail out, effectively bitch slapping Mark in the face. He held his cheek.
“OW! What the fuck?!” Tim poked out of Mark’s collar and jumped onto Sean’s lap, pinning his own charge with a glare.
“How dare you! _____ has been protecting all four of us for a long time! She went against her orders for all of us! And you dare question her motives?!” Off to the side, _____ was looking down and to the side, her voice hoarse and soft.
“I never lied about being your friend...I...I'll stand guard.” She walked back towards the entrance, which had been hidden behind a boulder, and stepped out. Mark glared her way.
“See? She's gonna go get the others now.” Suddenly, he felt a hand grab the front of his shirt and found his friend snarling at him, his free fist raised, threatening to swing at him. His Irish accent thickened in his anger.
“I've known _____ fer six fookin’ yeahrs! She is one of the kindest lasses ah’ve ever known! She would neva sell us out!” Though a bit perturbed by the Irishman’s rage, he bit back.
“How do you know she hasn't been lying to you since the start?!” A fist connected with his face.
“Because, ah trust her!” Before they could start fighting, a sob broke the air.

A streak of red, (h/c), and (s/t) blurred in front of them. _____ sat on her knees, crying. A foot and a half away from Mark.

“Please! Stop fighting! I'm not worth it!” They both watched in horror, as her skin began bubbling and melting off in some places, where others simply burned to ash. Sean crept closer, while Mark sat where he was, equally shocked.
“______!” When Sean tried to drag her back to a safe zone, she fought him.
“No! Leave me! I want to burn! I want to die!”
“No you don't!”
“Yes! I do! I'm not worth you two fighting each other! I'm not worth the care you give me! I'm not worth the worry you have over my safety! I’M NOT WORTH ANYTHING!” Instantly, Mark stood and sprinted to where she had been standing before, tearing the burning sensation from her and wrapping her in the, ironically, cooler air of the brimstone coated walls. ______ turned her, healing, face to him.
“Why? I thought you didn't trust me…” His eyes were widened in horror.
“Well...yeah! I still don't trust you fully, but that doesn't mean I want you to die!” Her eyes closed half of the way more, as the sharp and irregular breaths in and out of her mouth caused her bottom lip to quiver slightly. She bit down on said lower lip, as she turned away from him, her shoulders bending inwards and her voice very quiet.
“But...I do…” A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders, making her look up into a pair of blue eyes.
“Why would you want to die, _____?” Tears welled in her eyes even more, as they squeezed shut, and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down the sobs that threatened to break free. She looked down to the side, bringing her hands up to her face, before drawing her knees up to take their place. Her hands gripped her upper arms, her claws scraping, quick regenerating, scratches into her biceps and puncturing them with bloody holes and gorey gouges.

The hands on her shoulders tightly gripped her wrists, pulling them away from her being.
“______! Look at me!” Her hazed over eyes met his panicking ones, as he spoke again.
“Why do you want to die?!”
“I cause s-so much pain...I lied to you two...I could never do anything right. I couldn't save my parents. I couldn't save my sister. I'm just a waste of space. A waste of ether. A waste of a couple’s love. I don't deserve the happiness I want. I'm just a selfish bitch of a demon that can't do things worth a damn. I couldn't even protect you two...I'm just worthless…” Mark took a single step forward. Nothing happened. Then another. And another. And, soon, he dropped to his knees next to her, tears of his own sizzling against the hot ground underneath them. His hands burned against the soil and his aura began healing him as fast as he was scorching. His voice came out strained.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry…” She turned a pain filled eye to him and closed them, shaking her head, slowly.
“It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. No one's, but my own.” Sean wrapped his arms around her waist.
“_____...you didn't lie to us, per say. We didn't specifically ask ‘hey, _____! This might sound bat shit insane, but, am I an angel and are you a demon?’ I mean, really?” That got a laugh out if the other two.
“There's that smile.”
“I was sent to watch you...incase you became a threat. But...I instantly threw those orders out. If a half or quarter angel poses a threat to Lucifer, so be it. He needs to be knocked down a peg or two...or a thousand.” That made Mark snort in his laughter.
“Is he really that prideful?” She gave a playful deadpan.
“Think Alexander the Great, Napoleon, and Hitler rolled into one, multiplied by...ten thousand, and stewed in the hundreds of thousands of years he's been in his brother’s position.” Sean choked.
“Holy fuck!” Mark looked confused, so _____ explained the Satan versus Lucifer situation. At the end, a drop of sweat dripped down his temple.
“Damn...so...we need to go get him? From Circle Nine?”
“Yep.”
“So that he can help us defeat his brother?”
“Not quite defeat, but he's the only one that can create a portal to the human realm without the use of a scribe’s power. All the scribes have sided with Lucifer out of fear. And the only way out is through the Center of Hell. The Infernal Throne Room.”
“Holy mother of fuck...we gotta go through four circles.”
“I can fly you both over some parts, but The River Styx is one I cannot. We will need to cross with the ferryman, Phlegyas, who will not care that you both are angels.”
“Phlegyas? I thought the ferryman was Charon.”
“That's Greek, Sean.”
“Sorry.” She smiled at his sheepish expression.
“It's fine, Sean. It was a common mistake humans or the human raised.”
“Human raised?”
“Some demons, such as imps or the deformed, are sent into orphanages to be adopted by human parents. Most of the time, they don't remember where they come from and, when their powers emerge, they're seen as ‘possessed’ or ‘evil’. In actuality, it's their minds trying to reason out why they have these abilities and instincts. Normally, they'll settle down on their own, but humans won't wait that long. They kill them or lock them up. Some of these children that grow into adulthood, which are very rare, are treated like wizards, witches, or sorcerers and burned at the stake. Well...they were before the practice of burning was banned.” Mark scratched the bridge of his nose.
“What would demons consider deformed?”
“Well...albino, for one. Albino demons look identical to humans without transforming. Sometimes they have white, brown, or Asian skin...for lack of a better adjective. Any tone that isn't a shade of red is considered albino. Albino demons, also, don't grow horns. Missing a tail or limbs or being blind or deaf can be considered deformed. Major mental problems too.”

“Ok. Let's get going!” Sean turned to Tim, who was the one that spoke. He picked him up and put him back on Mark’s shoulder.

The quintet set off again, shimmying against the side of the tunnel, yet not against it.
“We’re almost there...just around this corner...and…” There was a large, open, cavern displayed out for them to see. There was a dock made of rotting wood, which seemed about to crumble at the slightest pressure. The water…
“That's not water,” Sean shivered. The whole river teemed with souls. The murky green water made them seem like slime, which muffled screams of despair and pain. Both men cringed at the dread that soaked this place. ______ put a hand on either of their shoulders, as a rickety gondola slowly drifted over the heads of suffering spirits. It seemed empty, until the movement of a staff came into view, a lantern attached to the top, its green glow spilling across the darkness eerily. The being in the boat, connected to that staff, was only partially clothed. A grey cloth around its waist and one around its head. It was definitely male. His broad shoulders and muscled appearance made him look less like a ferryman and more like an executioner. When he reached the dock, he pulled down his head covering, letting them see a head of short black hair and one brown eye. The other half of his face was missing, only showing bone in its place. His voice was hoarse, yet with a fond edge to it.
“Ah...It's good to see you after so long, _____.” She hugged him with a grin on her face.
“I missed you Uncle Phlegyas!”
“UNCLE?!” She glanced back at the two angels and started to giggle at their expressions.
“I miiiight have forgotten to mention that…”
“YEAH!” Phlegyas scanned them over with his one eye, as the other side of his face slowly reformed and crumbled off again.
“Hmmmm…”
“Oh! Uncle, these are my friends from the human world. Mark and Sean.” He eyed them a moment longer.
“Yer both part angel...right?” They both looked nervous, as _____ nodded.
“Mark’s half and Sean is a quarter.”
“Hmmm…” They were both sweating right then, before he smirked.
“Finally we got some angels to challenge the bastard’s authority. Fucking finally!”

They both let out breaths they didn't know they were holding and gave nervous chuckles, while _____ spoke.
“Oh, uh, Uncle? We need to get across the Styx…” She shuffled through her clothes and brought out three golden drachmas, which he took and had them step into the boat.
“Make sure you keep yer hands in the boat at all times. If one of the souls touches you tell me or _____. Now, we're off!” He started rowing and, every so often, beat a soul off of the staff or the side of the gondola. The light seemed to deter most of the damned, but some heeded no warning. After twenty minutes, the other dock came into view. They filed out and she gave her uncle one last hug, before waving and leading the boys into another tunnel.
“Soooo...that was your uncle?”
“Well...half uncle. My dad’s half brother.”
“Half brother?”
“Uncle Phlegyas is half human. He died due to his greed. The only reason he isn't in The Fourth Circle is that he made a deal with Satan, before Lucifer took control. He was seen as a misguided soul and a half demon. Satan knew he had a family and knew his sins could be paid off by being the ferryman for The River Styx.” They both looked understanding, as they approached the Sixth Circle. The Circle of Heresy. When they came through the entrance, Mark stopped and started scratching at his shoulders.
“Mark?”
“My shoulders itch like hell!” _____’s eyes flung open wide.
“Mark take off your shirt!”
“What?”
“Your shirt. Off. Now!” He pulled it over his head and just in time. The skin around his scapulae bulged, before a set of, fully feathered, white gold wings sprouted into existence, splattered sparsely with blood.

Description
Sean stared between both the man and the woman. He knew it wasn't himself putting off this aura.
“Mark?” The half Korean man only stared at the demoness, who had reeled her arm in. The flesh began knitting back together at a rapid pace. His lack of response prompted Sean to speak again.
“Mark...why don't you trust _____?” When their eyes met, Sean could see the hurt and betrayal in his brown eyes.
“She LIED to us. About us being part angel. About her being a fucking demon. About everything! What else has she lied to us about? Has she lied about being our friend?-!” It was then that Sam lifted out of his charge’s hair and whipped his tail out, effectively bitch slapping Mark in the face. He held his cheek.
“OW! What the fuck?!” Tim poked out of Mark’s collar and jumped onto Sean’s lap, pinning his own charge with a glare.
“How dare you! _____ has been protecting all four of us for a long time! She went against her orders for all of us! And you dare question her motives?!” Off to the side, _____ was looking down and to the side, her voice hoarse and soft.
“I never lied about being your friend...I...I'll stand guard.” She walked back towards the entrance, which had been hidden behind a boulder, and stepped out. Mark glared her way.
“See? She's gonna go get the others now.” Suddenly, he felt a hand grab the front of his shirt and found his friend snarling at him, his free fist raised, threatening to swing at him. His Irish accent thickened in his anger.
“I've known _____ fer six fookin’ yeahrs! She is one of the kindest lasses ah’ve ever known! She would neva sell us out!” Though a bit perturbed by the Irishman’s rage, he bit back.
“How do you know she hasn't been lying to you since the start?!” A fist connected with his face.
“Because, ah trust her!” Before they could start fighting, a sob broke the air.

A streak of red, (h/c), and (s/t) blurred in front of them. _____ sat on her knees, crying. A foot and a half away from Mark.

“Please! Stop fighting! I'm not worth it!” They both watched in horror, as her skin began bubbling and melting off in some places, where others simply burned to ash. Sean crept closer, while Mark sat where he was, equally shocked.
“______!” When Sean tried to drag her back to a safe zone, she fought him.
“No! Leave me! I want to burn! I want to die!”
“No you don't!”
“Yes! I do! I'm not worth you two fighting each other! I'm not worth the care you give me! I'm not worth the worry you have over my safety! I’M NOT WORTH ANYTHING!” Instantly, Mark stood and sprinted to where she had been standing before, tearing the burning sensation from her and wrapping her in the, ironically, cooler air of the brimstone coated walls. ______ turned her, healing, face to him.
“Why? I thought you didn't trust me…” His eyes were widened in horror.
“Well...yeah! I still don't trust you fully, but that doesn't mean I want you to die!” Her eyes closed half of the way more, as the sharp and irregular breaths in and out of her mouth caused her bottom lip to quiver slightly. She bit down on said lower lip, as she turned away from him, her shoulders bending inwards and her voice very quiet.
“But...I do…” A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders, making her look up into a pair of blue eyes.
“Why would you want to die, _____?” Tears welled in her eyes even more, as they squeezed shut, and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down the sobs that threatened to break free. She looked down to the side, bringing her hands up to her face, before drawing her knees up to take their place. Her hands gripped her upper arms, her claws scraping, quick regenerating, scratches into her biceps and puncturing them with bloody holes and gorey gouges.

The hands on her shoulders tightly gripped her wrists, pulling them away from her being.
“______! Look at me!” Her hazed over eyes met his panicking ones, as he spoke again.
“Why do you want to die?!”
“I cause s-so much pain...I lied to you two...I could never do anything right. I couldn't save my parents. I couldn't save my sister. I'm just a waste of space. A waste of ether. A waste of a couple’s love. I don't deserve the happiness I want. I'm just a selfish bitch of a demon that can't do things worth a damn. I couldn't even protect you two...I'm just worthless…” Mark took a single step forward. Nothing happened. Then another. And another. And, soon, he dropped to his knees next to her, tears of his own sizzling against the hot ground underneath them. His hands burned against the soil and his aura began healing him as fast as he was scorching. His voice came out strained.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry…” She turned a pain filled eye to him and closed them, shaking her head, slowly.
“It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. No one's, but my own.” Sean wrapped his arms around her waist.
“_____...you didn't lie to us, per say. We didn't specifically ask ‘hey, _____! This might sound bat shit insane, but, am I an angel and are you a demon?’ I mean, really?” That got a laugh out if the other two.
“There's that smile.”
“I was sent to watch you...incase you became a threat. But...I instantly threw those orders out. If a half or quarter angel poses a threat to Lucifer, so be it. He needs to be knocked down a peg or two...or a thousand.” That made Mark snort in his laughter.
“Is he really that prideful?” She gave a playful deadpan.
“Think Alexander the Great, Napoleon, and Hitler rolled into one, multiplied by...ten thousand, and stewed in the hundreds of thousands of years he's been in his brother’s position.” Sean choked.
“Holy fuck!” Mark looked confused, so _____ explained the Satan versus Lucifer situation. At the end, a drop of sweat dripped down his temple.
“Damn...so...we need to go get him? From Circle Nine?”
“Yep.”
“So that he can help us defeat his brother?”
“Not quite defeat, but he's the only one that can create a portal to the human realm without the use of a scribe’s power. All the scribes have sided with Lucifer out of fear. And the only way out is through the Center of Hell. The Infernal Throne Room.”
“Holy mother of fuck...we gotta go through four circles.”
“I can fly you both over some parts, but The River Styx is one I cannot. We will need to cross with the ferryman, Phlegyas, who will not care that you both are angels.”
“Phlegyas? I thought the ferryman was Charon.”
“That's Greek, Sean.”
“Sorry.” She smiled at his sheepish expression.
“It's fine, Sean. It was a common mistake humans or the human raised.”
“Human raised?”
“Some demons, such as imps or the deformed, are sent into orphanages to be adopted by human parents. Most of the time, they don't remember where they come from and, when their powers emerge, they're seen as ‘possessed’ or ‘evil’. In actuality, it's their minds trying to reason out why they have these abilities and instincts. Normally, they'll settle down on their own, but humans won't wait that long. They kill them or lock them up. Some of these children that grow into adulthood, which are very rare, are treated like wizards, witches, or sorcerers and burned at the stake. Well...they were before the practice of burning was banned.” Mark scratched the bridge of his nose.
“What would demons consider deformed?”
“Well...albino, for one. Albino demons look identical to humans without transforming. Sometimes they have white, brown, or Asian skin...for lack of a better adjective. Any tone that isn't a shade of red is considered albino. Albino demons, also, don't grow horns. Missing a tail or limbs or being blind or deaf can be considered deformed. Major mental problems too.”

“Ok. Let's get going!” Sean turned to Tim, who was the one that spoke. He picked him up and put him back on Mark’s shoulder.

The quintet set off again, shimmying against the side of the tunnel, yet not against it.
“We’re almost there...just around this corner...and…” There was a large, open, cavern displayed out for them to see. There was a dock made of rotting wood, which seemed about to crumble at the slightest pressure. The water…
“That's not water,” Sean shivered. The whole river teemed with souls. The murky green water made them seem like slime, which muffled screams of despair and pain. Both men cringed at the dread that soaked this place. ______ put a hand on either of their shoulders, as a rickety gondola slowly drifted over the heads of suffering spirits. It seemed empty, until the movement of a staff came into view, a lantern attached to the top, its green glow spilling across the darkness eerily. The being in the boat, connected to that staff, was only partially clothed. A grey cloth around its waist and one around its head. It was definitely male. His broad shoulders and muscled appearance made him look less like a ferryman and more like an executioner. When he reached the dock, he pulled down his head covering, letting them see a head of short black hair and one brown eye. The other half of his face was missing, only showing bone in its place. His voice was hoarse, yet with a fond edge to it.
“Ah...It's good to see you after so long, _____.” She hugged him with a grin on her face.
“I missed you Uncle Phlegyas!”
“UNCLE?!” She glanced back at the two angels and started to giggle at their expressions.
“I miiiight have forgotten to mention that…”
“YEAH!” Phlegyas scanned them over with his one eye, as the other side of his face slowly reformed and crumbled off again.
“Hmmmm…”
“Oh! Uncle, these are my friends from the human world. Mark and Sean.” He eyed them a moment longer.
“Yer both part angel...right?” They both looked nervous, as _____ nodded.
“Mark’s half and Sean is a quarter.”
“Hmmm…” They were both sweating right then, before he smirked.
“Finally we got some angels to challenge the bastard’s authority. Fucking finally!”

They both let out breaths they didn't know they were holding and gave nervous chuckles, while _____ spoke.
“Oh, uh, Uncle? We need to get across the Styx…” She shuffled through her clothes and brought out three golden drachmas, which he took and had them step into the boat.
“Make sure you keep yer hands in the boat at all times. If one of the souls touches you tell me or _____. Now, we're off!” He started rowing and, every so often, beat a soul off of the staff or the side of the gondola. The light seemed to deter most of the damned, but some heeded no warning. After twenty minutes, the other dock came into view. They filed out and she gave her uncle one last hug, before waving and leading the boys into another tunnel.
“Soooo...that was your uncle?”
“Well...half uncle. My dad’s half brother.”
“Half brother?”
“Uncle Phlegyas is half human. He died due to his greed. The only reason he isn't in The Fourth Circle is that he made a deal with Satan, before Lucifer took control. He was seen as a misguided soul and a half demon. Satan knew he had a family and knew his sins could be paid off by being the ferryman for The River Styx.” They both looked understanding, as they approached the Sixth Circle. The Circle of Heresy. When they came through the entrance, Mark stopped and started scratching at his shoulders.
“Mark?”
“My shoulders itch like hell!” _____’s eyes flung open wide.
“Mark take off your shirt!”
“What?”
“Your shirt. Off. Now!” He pulled it over his head and just in time. The skin around his scapulae bulged, before a set of, fully feathered, white gold wings sprouted into existence, splattered sparsely with blood.