Taming Fire: Week 5

Hey guys!!   A little warning before we get started...this post messed up half way through.  I've tried multiple times to redo the copy pasting into other posts, but the result is always the same.  I swear it's normal in my word doc.  But apparently on here, the formatting is crazy.  *shrugs*  I don't know what to do.  So if you can read the last half with all that insanity, great.  If not, I'm sorry.  I really, really am.  Sorry about the mishap.  I hope you guys still like it.  :)

 

~xX Night

 

 

This Week's Musical Inspiration:

 

 

 

TAMING FIRE: WEEK 5

 

Emile closed his laptop.  His hand trembled, sliding the device over his desk.  Attempting to put the computer in his bag proved to be a harder task than usual.  He couldn’t meet Lim’s eyes, let alone get his hands to stop shaking.  Going crazy had not been on his to do list for college, but he’d officially hit his limit, slowly sliding off the deep end.  The cup of coffee on the desk wobbled, almost spilling.  Lim snatched it up, leaning forward.

The angel’s fingers brushed over his.  “Let me help you with that.”

Emile smacked his hand away, hopping up from his seat with his bag in hand.  A cold shiver spread fear throughout his body. “Don’t touch me.  Get away.”  He looked around the lecture hall, scared someone would notice them.

“They can’t see or hear you right now.”  Lim dumped the cup of coffee in the trashcan, knowing Emile wouldn’t take it again.   “I figured you would be more comfortable talking about this with others around.  It’s why I came here right away.”

“This is supposed to be comfortable?  People ten feet away can’t see me?  That’s not comfortable.  That’s insane.”  Emile’s laugh turned hysterical.  “I am crazy.  I’ve lost my fucking mind.”  He sputtered for air when none of his classmates turned away from the professor.  They really couldn’t hear him.  His eyes shot to Lim, bewildered.  “Am I dreaming?  Or am I dead?  Don’t lie to me!”

“Oh heavens no.”  Lim put his hands up.  “You haven’t lost your mind.  This is very real, Emile, and you are very much awake and alive.  That’s exactly what they want you to think, that you’re crazy.  It’s how they get to you – through depression, hysteria, self-loathing, and heartache.  They find a way in, cater to your needs, and make it seem as though you have no other choice but to open up to them.  The time will come when you realize you had a way out all along, a better way.  Only by then…it’s too late.”

Lim came closer.  “You know what you saw last night was real.  You know you’re not losing it.  You know what I’m telling you is true.  You’ve been drawn to me since the moment we met face to face and you trust me, even if you’re scared to admit it.  And you can trust me, Emile.”

“You were just...I thought you were hot.  That’s it.”  Emile clutched his backpack to his chest.  “Don’t come any closer.  I can’t handle it.”

“Oh, Emile, if I could spare you all of this, I would.  However, I can’t.  This is the path created for you and this is the part where you trust me to help where I can.  That mark on your chest is only the beginning of your purpose.”  Lim stepped forward.  “They’re onto you now.  Giving you that cross was the only way I could protect you and I shouldn’t have done it.  It’s against the rules.  But I couldn’t let you go in there, vulnerable and scared, knowing what they could do.  I’m going to be in so much trouble and I should care more about the consequences, but for you, I will take all of them.”

“In trouble with who?”  Emile whispered.  He wanted to run.  The door was so close, but Lim’s body heat lured him in.  He wanted to fall into Lim’s arms and block out the rest of the world and be comforted for once.  That scared him the most.  He shouldn’t want to touch Lim at all.

“The Creator, the dark ones, you can take your pick.  They have eyes everywhere, both sides of the war.”

Emile sidestepped Lim.  “This just gets better and better.  War?”

“Yes, war.  The battle of angels and demons is an age old saga.”  Lim waved a hand.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to scare you.  I only hope the Creator will show me mercy for protecting you, because of what you were meant to do, but I know in my heart I’ve cheated, I’ve interfered with your free will.  The dark ones will be free to make the next move because of my decision to give you this.”  Lim fingered the chain around Emile’s neck.  “Now they may freely show themselves to you.  And I’m sorry you have to bear this burden.  I’ve watched you struggle so many times before, and I would say it’s unfair, but everyone was put here for a reason, and yours is to walk the fine line between the light and the dark.  It’s who you are and it’s why you were chosen to help him.”

“I don’t understand.  What’s happening to me, Lim?” Emile resisted the urge to let Lim embrace him and once again sidestepped around the angel towards the door.  “I’m not anything special.  I don’t want to die in someone else’s war.”

Lim’s nostrils flared.  He stood up straight and proud.  “You don’t have a choice, Emile.  They’re coming and you have to fight them with all that you are.  They want you to give up because you’re scared, don’t you see that?  No matter what they say or try to get you to do, however easy their path may seem, don’t give in.  Show him a better way.  Show him how to love, Emile, however far out of your comfort zone that may take you.  He is worth it and so are you.”

“Who are you talking about?  Who is he!”  Emile’s back bumped the swinging door.  He couldn’t look at Lim anymore.  He had to get out, get some fresh air to think and possibly find the nearest church to have himself exorcised.  “Fuck this.  I’m out of here.”

Lim took a deep breath, eyes going wide.  “Emile, don’t go out there!”

Pushing the door open, Emile came to a screeching halt just outside the lecture hall.  Leaning against a set of floor to ceiling windows was Bee.  A black velvet waistcoat wrapped around his lean torso, and long arms.  He brushed his high collar with a finger, a wicked smile crossing his lips.  The way the light hit his coat reminded Emile of the blue black of a raven’s wing, the very birds that symbolized death.  Bee was no different from those birds; everything about him reeked of death and destruction.

The corners of Bee’s eyes lifted.  His smile became more vicious.  “I thought I might find you here.”

Stuck in his own fear, Emile barely registered the gust of warm wind whooshing past until Lim’s broad shoulders blocked his view of Bee.  “Leave this place.  He won’t be touched by you.”

“Hmm,” Bee mused.  “Is that so, Erelim?”

Emile looked around Lim to find Bee’s golden eyes staring right at him.  “Lim,” Emile whispered.  “Is he one of them?”

“I knew it.”  Bee chuckled.  “You’ve shown yourself to him, haven’t you, Erelim?”  He clucked his tongue.  “Naughty angel, you know the rules.  Furthermore, you’ve broken several of them.”

“What I do is none of your business, Beelzebub.  I said leave, and I meant it.”  Lim reached behind and scratched the small of his back, heaving a deep breath.

Bee narrowed his eyes.  “It very well is my business.  An angel, who’s considered a sword of the Creator, suddenly takes to a human, reveals his true nature, and proceeds to give said human a disciple’s cross.”  Lim scratched his back furiously and Bee stomped his foot.  “One of mine nearly burnt to a crisp last night, touching that boy.  That is sure as shit my business.”

“She should burn for what she’s done,” Lim growled.  “You all should.”

“I happen to like fire, but I’m afraid I won’t tolerate attacks from a mere human.  Fighting with your kind is an eternal game, but putting up a fight against him…it will not do, Erelim.”  Bee moved closer.  “Tell me, Erelim, what are you hiding?  What does this boy mean to you and why allow him to be subjected to Raven House, knowing the game he was a part of?  You knew I meant to end him.  You knew he would fall into insanity and harm himself.  And we would take what was ours, his soul, just like the others.  What purpose does he serve to you, Erelim?”

Lim bared his teeth, leaning forward to greet Bee.  “Touch him and I will use my hand against you, and I won’t care what punishment awaits me.” 

“Lim, don’t.”  Emile grabbed the angel’s arm.  “Please.”

Bee looked between them.  “Is that it?  Do you love him, Erelim? Has the mighty hand of God fallen for a human?”

“He is not mine to claim, but I have loved him like my child since before he took his first breath.  I will protect him with everything I am.  Know he has a greater purpose, demon spawn, one which will shake your very core.”

Bee snarled, pushing Lim out of the way.  “I will know who you are, human!  You will not fight with me and mine.”

Gasping his way backwards, Emile found the wall.  He tried to make himself as small as possible when Bee approached.  “I didn’t do anything, I swear.  Please, don’t hurt me.”  He looked to Lim, begging for help with his eyes.

Lim put a hand over his chest, his eyes confident, but he moved closer just in case.  Baffled that Lim would serve him up to Bee, Emile dropped his pack, ready to run.

“You can run all you like, but me and mine are many, and you are just but one.  We will find you, your greatest weakness, and destroy you like you were nothing more than wisp of fog – here one second and gone the next.”  Bee’s eyes bled red, spiking Emile’s urge to run.

“Oh my God.” He clutched his chest, feeling the cross warm his skin.

Smoke rolled off of Bee’s coat.  The smell of sulfur assailed Emile, choking him.  Claws grew from Bee’s nails.  His chin elongated to a point, stretching his face into something out of a nightmare.  Horns bred above each ear, curling around his forehead until they twisted up into sharp tips.  In front of Emile stood a demon, and something told him not just any demon.  He cowered, sliding down the wall to escape Bee’s maddening red stare.  He brought the cross out from under his shirt and closed his eyes tight.

Closer to the ground, amid the rolling heat wafting off Bee, Emile sniffed the comforting scent of his grandmother’s perfume.  It blanketed him, bringing forth memories of her soft, tiny hands and close set brown eyes.  He remembered this kind of fear from long ago, when she would sit by his bed and hold his hand to keep the monsters in the closet at bay.  Her hushed voice would whisper a psalm while she stroked his hair.  And as if he was seven all over again, the words of her favorite psalm brewed at the back of his throat.  He knew them like the back of his hand, said so many times by his grandmother, how could he not?

He gripped the cross between both hands, holding it away from him, putting his faith in the object between his body and Bee.  He took a deep breath, seeing her eyes behind his closed lids.  His body burst with a heat so warm, Emile was sure his blood was made of liquid summer afternoons.  He relied exclusively on his belief the cross would work.  He was confident Lim was helping him.  By giving him the cross in the first place, Lim had given him all the protection he could.  Now it was up to Emile to fight off the evil leaning over him.

The sting of flames licking at his clothes made him wince.  The smoke made him cough, but nothing was scarier than Bee’s growl inches from his face.  “I will have your soul, Emile.  I will pocket your life and bank it in my father’s kingdom, where you will scream for the rest of eternity.  You wish to be special, but you know, as I do, that you’re nothing.  No one will ever want you.  Just like your parents kicked you aside, the others in your life will do the same, because you’re worthless.  You’re a poor, pathetic, excuse for a human being.”

Emile frowned, squeezing tears from the corners of his tightly shut eyes.  “I’m something to someone.”

“Yes, you’re trash.  You’re discarded, wasteful trash,” Bee hissed.  “And I intend to take you out.”

“I was meant to do something and this isn’t it.  I’ll take you out.”  Emile ground his teeth. Confidence settled in his gut.  Bee’s breath shied away.  “I won’t die this way.”

“Fight us?”  Bee roared and Emile opened his eyes.  Red eyes greeted him.  “I will have your head on a stick, human!”

Emile flicked his eyes to Lim. The angel met his stare with a simple nod.  “Say it, Emile.  You know the words by heart.”

“They weren’t just monsters, were they?” Emile’s palm was sweaty.  His grip on the cross was slipping.

Bee snapped his teeth.  “Every monster has a name and where there is one, there are many, and not just in a closet.”  The demon extended his hands, reaching for Emile.  “Do you doubt me now?” Flames engulfed the hallway, unseen by other human eyes.  “Do you, human?”

A ringing echoed in Emile’s ears, tempting him to let go of his cross.  Ghostly whispers swam in his head, turning to screams.  Emile screeched when the volume became too loud for comfort.  Bee wanted him to let go, and give up his protection to make the noise stop.  He came so close, Emile felt as if he was in the middle of a bonfire. Pain lit up his body.  The screaming wouldn’t stop.

He threw back his head and howled, putting all his effort into the psalm to make the monsters go away. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

“He will not protect you from me!”  Bee lashed out, attempting to cut Emile with his claws.  Instead, his nails grazed over a protective layer of fire hotter than hell itself.  He bellowed in agony, infuriated.

Emile palmed the wall with one hand, holding up the cross.  “Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.  He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart."

"Keep going!”  Lim shouted above the crackle of Bee’s flames.

 The painful fire seemed to slice through Emile, yet he didn’t have one burn over his exposed skin.  It was all an illusion, just as Lim had said.  Growing more courageous by the second, Emile pushed to his feet, and took a step towards Bee.  “You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, not the plague that destroys at midday.  A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.  You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.  If you make the Most High your dwelling – even the LORD, who is my refuge – then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.  For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” Emile limped forward, the imaginary pain almost too much to bear.  “And off the record, Bee, no one threatens me, especially not a stone.”

 He pulled the cross from around his neck and thrust his hand forward, bringing the cross to Bee’s face.  The demon roared again.  Red and orange cracks appeared over his ski n, glowing like embers in a fireplace.  His arms flailed.  The fire was so high, it rushed to the ceiling from every corner around them. Emile shielded his eyes, unable to handle the heat over his skin any longer.

 

“And that is the protection my Creator provides.  Rest assured, Beelzebub, we will claim Xavier as ours!”  Lim shouted as a white light burst from Bee’s chest.  Wings spanned between the fire and Emile, shielding him from an explosion of dust.  Bee’s resounding scream echoed throughout the halls, still audible to Emile, even in the cocoon of Lim’s wings.  Then all was silent and the heat was gone.

“Holy shit.”  Emile shook.  “Holy motherfucking shit.”

“There’s nothing holy about shit, Emile.”  Lim kissed his forehead before wrapping him up in a hug.  “I will never regret giving you that cross.  I did my job.  It protected you.”

Emile held on, scared to leave Lim’s wings.  He didn’t want to see the world anymore.  He wished he didn’t know what existed in plain sight.  Demons were real.  So were angels.  His life would never be the same again.

“Emile?”

“Don’t make go back out there.  They’re out there, Lim.  They’re coming for me and I have no idea why.  What did I do?  Why is my life such a shithole?”

“Shh.”  Lim ran a hand over Emile’s hair.  “Your life is better than most.  I assure you of that.”

“But why did he want to kill me?”

“You’re precious to the Creator, and to me.  When he said I was a warrior, he meant I’m not one to take on human charges.  The Creator tasked me with your protection, making me a guardian angel for the first time in my existence.  The dark ones never knew I watched over you for a reason.  Now that you wear that cross, you act as a beacon to them, a challenge they wish to meet.”  Lim squeezed Emile tight.  “But you’re stronger than their seductions.  You have to be.  You have challenges of your own.”

“I still don’t understand.”  Emile lifted his head.  “Why me?  What am I supposed to do for the Creator?  Why did you mention Xavier?  Isn’t he…one of them?  He lives at the house…”

“His life is created of both sides.  His mother is an Archangel, the strongest of our kind under the Creator, and his father is a demon warlord, Bael, a real piece of work.  Both sides wish to stake their claim on him, permanently.  You’re meant to free Xavier of his darker half by showing him what you have here.”  Lim put a hand over Emile’s chest.  “But Bee is Xavier’s mentor, your opponent in the war for his soul.   And this fight has just begun. You see, Xavier is conflicted.  He’s unable to use his demon abilities on you as part of his mother’s punishment.  Using them on you causes him pain, but also leaves him open to accepting who you are.  Use that to your advantage.  Show him what it is to love, Emile.  He’s already starting to feel for you, and the first time Bee sees his possessiveness over you, Bee will turn against him.  Xavier will need you as support.  He just doesn’t realize it yet.”

“I barely know Xavier.  Why am I supposed to do this?”

Lim cupped Emile’s chin.  “Because you’ve been his since before you both were born.”

“His?”  Emile shook his head.  “I-I mean I feel for him, but maybe it’s just because he’s part demon or something.”

“You know it’s more than that.”  Lim smiled.  “Don’t you?”

Emile pushed him away.  “I’m just a broke college student.  I’m not the fucking exorcist, Lim.”

“An exorcist?”  Lim’s wings flew back before they curled into his body.  The sun sliced through the windows, bathing them both in warm light.  The angel laughed.  “This isn’t a movie, Emile.  There’s nothing possessing you or Xavier.  You are only meant to be each other’s perfect fit.  And if you don’t believe you were meant for Xavier, then look here for proof.”  Lim pointed to Emile’s chest.  “He has already left his mark.”

Emile looked down.  A giant hole was burned in his sweatshirt, exposing his chest.  The red splotch from earlier had grown into two red handprints on his skin.  “What are these!”

“The mark of a demon, you opened yourself to him, and he has left his signature on your body.  Bee had to have seen it.”

“I can’t deal with this, Lim.  I just popped a Demon into God knows where.  I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life over that zombie.  And now I have to save Xavier because he’s mine?  No…”  Emile rubbed his eyes.  “I’m not the bravest guy for the job.  Ask someone else.”

“It’s not that simple, Emile.  Will you chance the death of your soul mate because you’re scared?  Will you let him burn forever, even though you have the tools to secure his safety?  I’ve done what I can for you.  All men are free to decide for themselves, a curse and a gift all at the same time.  Whatever you decide, know you’re strong enough to do this.” Lim studied him.  His skin glowed a little, radiant as if he’d been in the sun all summer long.  The corners of his eyes crinkled with a beautiful smile.  “Have faith, Emile.  If you do, everything will be just fine.”

Emile hung his head, confused and scared.  “Have faith?  That’s all you’ve got for me?”

A warm breeze made him glance up.  Lim was gone.  Only floating specks of dust filtered through the light in his place.  Emile stood, whirling around.

“Lim?  Please come back.  Don’t leave me here.”  He grabbed his backpack from against the wall.  Ashes fell from the fabric.  One strap was burned away.  Something snapped in his head, staring at his backpack.  That could have been him that burned, not a stupid backpack.  Looking up, Emile narrowed his eyes.  “They want me dead.”

“Not just dead,” a deep voice made him turn around.  “They want your soul, which is a far worse fate than death.”

A tall black man with a bundle of long gray dreads smiled back at him.  His light blue eyes were soft and comforting.  He pushed up the sleeves of his simple white button up and ruffled through his battered messenger bag until he produced a paper wrapped sandwich.

“Hungry?”

“I don’t think I can eat right now.”  Emile looked down the hallway, judging how far away the exit was.

“Hmm, I though meatball subs were your favorite.  I must be mistaken.”  The man sighed, putting the sandwich back in his bag.

“How do you know that?  Oh shit, you’re one of them, aren’t you?”  Emile held up the cross still in his hand.  “Lim!  Come back!”

The man chuckled.  “One of them?  No, no, no.   I am one of a kind, Emile.”

“If you’re not of them, who are you?  And how do you know I like meatball subs, or my name for that matter?”  Emile kept the cross up.

Calloused hands closed around his fist.  The man’s blue eyes sparkled in the light and his smile was too kind to be evil.  “I am not one of them because I am them.  Without me, there would be no them, or you.”

Emile opened his mouth in realization.  The cross warmed in his hand, recognizing the man touching it.

“I am the Creator, and it’s very nice to meet you, Emile.”

Emile looked into the eyes of God, stunned.  “Uh huh.”

“Come.  Let us find a place to eat this sandwich.  It smells too good to pass up.”  The Creator gently plucked the cross from Emile’s hand and put it back around his neck.  “Much better.”  He patted Emile’s chest before putting an arm around his shoulders.  “Shall we?”

Emile could only nod as God led him down the hall for a picnic.

****

In a greasy spoon joint two blocks away from campus, Xavier browsed the menu with gloved hands, even though he’d known what he wanted before he came in.  He’d originally thought about going to Little Tony’s next door, his favorite dive, but they didn’t open until noon.  So, he settled for Shakey’s, the twenty-four seven, breakfast joint.

He frequented the place a few times a week.  They had the best stuffed French toast in town.  And they had Nicky, the scrawny blond waiting tables that could contort his legs in a bathroom stall like no one’s business.  But sadly, Xavier found he wasn’t in the mood to flirt his way to the bathroom this time.  He could only think of Emile and his supple lips.  He could only think of Emile’s warm body and tousled hair as he curled up in bed this morning before Xavier left.

Thinking of Emile only roused his confusion.  He still had no clue why he would feel so deeply for a human, or what Emile was hiding.  And then, there was the latest item to add to his drama...  He looked down.  Now he was left in the dark and he didn’t like it.  A funny place to hate, being half evil, he thought.  As Nicky attempted another slide of fingers over his, putting down his breakfast, Xavier looked up to turn the poor boy down.  He flinched at the person towering behind the helpless waiter.

His father, Bael, growled, fearless of being seen with red eyes.  He wore a black fedora, tilted down just a bit to accommodate his short ponytail at the nape of his neck.  Tattoos covered his knuckles in various symbols, in full view when Bael reached up.  “Move out of my way, boy.”  Bael grabbed the back of Nicky’s collar and jerked him to the side to join Xavier in the booth.  He lost the red eyes for Xavier’s benefit and cut Nicky his dark stare. 

“Hey!”  Nicky rubbed his neck.  “Fucker.  I’ll call the cops if you touch me again.”

Father and son stared at each other across the table.  Xaviern flicked his gloved fingers up at Nicky, holding out two crisp hundred dollar bills.  “Sorry about that, Nicky.”

“Cops,” Bael hissed at the waiter.  “They wouldn’t know what to do with me or my security.”  He sat back with a squeak of vinyl booth covering against his leather jacket, scratching the thick stubble along his jaw.

“Whatever, freak.”  Nicky poured a cup of coffee for Bael, snatching the money up.  “Don’t start trouble.”  He glanced at Xavier, shook his head, and sauntered off to another table.

Bael leaned forward.  “The only one in trouble is your mother.  To take me out of my son is a crime punishable by death.”

“Dad, please.”  Xavier tried to touch his father.

Bael looked Xavier up and down.  “You wish to forgive her for punishing you this way?  No.  You are ill.  She has brainwashed you somehow.”  He pounded a fist on the table, knocking over a bottle of syrup, and earning wide eyed stares from an elderly couple across the way.  Bael snarled at them.  “Mind your own business, you little bags of bones.”

“Dad!”

“What!”

Xavier rubbed his face and sighed.  “It’s not just about mom anymore.  Something else is happening to me.”

“Tell me everything.”  Bael looked ready to murder anything that moved for his son.

“How about we start with this.”  Xavier looked around before pulling off the first glove.  He flipped his hand palm side up.  “What is this?”

Bael studied the cherry red handprint covering his son’s skin.  He sighed.  “If you’re unable to use your powers on humans then I don’t understand.  This is impossible.”

“What is it, though?”

“Xavier, you have demon touched a human.”  Bael pulled the other glove off, astonished to find it was just as red.

“Emile,” Xavier gasped.

Bael cocked his head, getting right in Xavier’s face.  “Who is this Emile?”

TO BE CONTINUED…