For TallestTak - http://pulsehead.com/555/A%20CHALLENGEEEEEEEEEEEEEE%21%3F%21%3F
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Zuriel slipped through the portal into the darker epicenter. Here, where it was always night, fires burned in cans that lined the filthy streets, illuminating the industrial towers the pumped a thick, acrid smoke into the sky above. Would that a sun existed here, it probably would not be able to penetrate the black smog that hung in the upper levels, the fumes akin to that of smoldering rubber. No one was even entirely sure what these obscene factories manufactured, but it was undoubtedly something horrific.
The street level was where the most wretched sought residence. Beings that suffered from all manner of ailments and disfigurements skulked and shambled among the rubble of stone and steel. Zuriel tried not to allow his eyes to linger too long on these miserable creatures, their stares penetrating him with something between anguish and hunger. Zuriel quickly found stairs that lead up to one of the many grated catwalks that criss-crossed this black land. They led to various balconies and platforms above the diseased streets below. As he walked through the chaos of these citizens, he was offered all manner of pleasures. He could have flesh, substances, gambling, battle, or things not found outside of this realm. No matter the vice, it was available for a small fee; at first, of course.
Further along, Zuriel found an elevator. It was guarded by two large beings who silently demanded his identification. He peered at these two monstrosities, his discomfort obvious. Once he had made his qualifications clear, these individuals still showed indifference, but allowed him passage. Zuriel considered the ramifications of this as he rode the open air carriage up high to a penthouse.
As he climbed out of the elevator, he was once again troubled. Before him, ivy hung loosely around a door frame, small bones intertwined throughout its leaves. The symbol of his host was burnt into the door. Hesitantly, Zuriel knocked and was shortly greeted by a tall, pale bald man.
"Zuriel, I'm glad you could make it!" exclaimed his host.
"I came as soon as I received your communiqué, old friend," replied Zuriel. "I followed your cooridinates."
Zuriel entered the large apartment, astounded by the decor. Wrought iron candelabras were scattered about the room, filling the space with a flickering illumination. Long black curtains swayed in the breeze that came in through the slightly open windows and they brushed across the marble floor. Crimson leather furniture with gold trim was arranged casually, a large wooden bookshelf against one stone wall. In small alcoves, items sat under tiny lamps like showcases. When Zuriel leaned in to inspect one, he was shocked.
"Is that what I..."
"It is indeed," replied Xerxes.
"How did you come to have possession of such a thing?" whispered Zuriel in amazement.
"They don't care anymore, old friend," said Xerxes. "Nothing matters to them, certainly not the past."
Zuriel took these words with hurt, but strolled silently to the large bay windows that overlooked the madness below. He surveyed the atrocities and debauchery beneath him, the sin that was committed in abundance. For not the first time in his exile, Zuriel came to think upon that fateful choice of The Morningstar. Both he and Xerxes had fought Lucifer and his rebel Angels with unquestioning loyalty to The Heavenly Host. They had battled their brothers only to Fall eons later as Michael's word grew in power and The Father grew... quieter. Most of these later exiles had roamed Earth among the humans, a few joining with Lucifer's cause. Recently, however, the exiles had all joined together under Xerxes. But...
"Why here, Xerxes? Of all places, why this nightmarish realm?"
Xerxes smiled. "But Zuriel, it is the most Holy of dimensions."
"What? The Father would have nothing to do with this, this... incorrect place."
"Zuriel, this is the original Divine Land of Man," said Xerxes, trying to hold back a laugh.
Zuriel spun in anger. "How can you..."
"My dear old friend," said the Fallen Angel to the other, "These are the remains of Eden."
Shocked by his brother's proclamation, Zuriel turned to stare back out the window. He pressed his palms against the glass and tears began to well up. He could not conceive of such a desecration.
"That such a thing would come to pass," whispered Zuriel.
"Sometimes, for some," said Xerxes quietly, with sympathy for his friend, "Paradise is not enough."
rating: 12
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