welcome to greendale - a caos story

xxiv. michael

|| trigger warning: abuse ||

Lucifer sat impatiently on a chair in the Spellman household, "Where could she possibly be?" 

He was seething in anger, this time not at Jophiel. She'd proven herself loyal to Hell, so he knew she wouldn't pull an escape. His knuckles were turning white from his grip on the chair-arm as he covered his chin with his other hand. 

It had only been about two hours since he'd left Dr. Cee's, some of that time was mocking Lilith for her poor spying skills, but as soon as Sabrina barged in with news that Jophiel had disappeared from Hilda's sight within 2-miliseconds, time felt like an eternity.

Not even for just Lucifer, for her too. 

Jophiel held her knee's up to her chest, praying that Lucifer would hear her. While she knew it was a lost cause, she kept going. The longer she sat there, laying up against a wall, the louder her thoughts became. 

She could hear footsteps from the hallway in-front of her cell, terrified that it would be Michael back for the third torture match since she'd been there. The torture wasn't even physical, each jab he made towards her was emotional--breaking down walls that she'd spent millenniums building up. 

A set of familiar footsteps caused her to raise her head up, "Lucifer?"

"Of course, Angel." He stood at the cell door, reaching his hand out, "We don't have much time, come on." 

She'd pushed herself rather quickly, trying to make her way towards the door only to be shoved back down by the figure at the doorway. 

"You really believed it would be that easy?" Michael. "You know that Hell would have to freeze over before Lucifer made it back into Heaven."

His laugh shook the walls, scaring her back into the corner. This time he'd brought with him his lance. The lance that was able to kill any archangel if need be, or slowly decay a seraphim, or instantaneously obliterate a demon. 

She'd already gained new marks on her body from the roughness of Michael's prior actions of shoving her into the cage, but this--this was a whole new level of punishment. 

Punishment Lucifer hadn't received. Punishment God would never even think twice of for her brothers, what made Jophiel any different then them. 

"No," She cried, "Mikey, I am begging you--please do not do this." 

A smirk found it's way to his face, "Oh, darling. I am not going to kill you." His voice was deep, "That would be too easy." 

Her heart sank, not expecting that as his answer. After those words, she began praying that he'd just do it on accident. 

"I'll come back," she'd moved onto her knee's, "I'll apologize--to everyone. I will do anything, please." 

He didn't respond, only grabbing a clump of her hair and ripping her off the floor. He pulled her up to her feet, shoving her towards the corridor. The lance gently jabbed her spine, causing her to scream at the slightest contact. 

The pain was immense, but Michael wasn't letting her go that easy. She knew to walk out, two angels stood at the end of the hallway--waiting for her. Michael was going to use her to get intel on Lucifer. 

It all seemed way too planned out to not be premeditated, he knew what he was doing. Jophiel felt her breath get stuck in her throat, causing her to shutter in fear of what was to come. 

When she walked passed the two seraphs, she noticed a figure in the corner of the room. A figure she had not seen in ages, Metatron. She stood with her head high, watching as Michael walked you in.

"She is yours, do as you wish." His voice made Jophiel jump slightly, forgetting his presence. 

Metatron was her father's right-hand woman--his scribe if you will. There was a sure-fire chance that she knew of everything Jophiel had done. Risking her entire being to be with her wicked brother. 

"Jophiel," She smiled, "The most ignorant seed of Heaven. I am so glad you could make it."

Jophiel glared up through her brow, not giving Metatron the satisfaction of seeing her entire face. Keeping her head down kept her dignity, hiding the scrapes on her cheek from where her brother had abused her only moments prior.

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