Phantom Pain (trilogy)

Devil on My Shoulder

Chapter 1: Devil on My Shoulder

The first thing I noticed was the darkness.

The second was that my eyes were closed. I was asleep.

Upon me, came the sickening realization of my current whereabouts. I had not meant to come here. Sleep was difficult now, as sometimes I forgot to be human. Sometimes I let go of the mortal identity I'd worked so hard to adapt, and floated out into the oblivion, where I could feel my brothers, just out of reach. Wingless as I was, heaven was still part of me. And I could feel it. I could feel it as it rotted away.

I struggled to wake up, lashing out at the walls of this amorphous coffin, but something held me in place: the familiar feeling. It had come upon me so quickly. The awe I felt was still there, along with the pleasure, but now it was strongly diluted by fear. It was like he'd been waiting for me.

“Ramiel.” The voice was like church bells, the light still warm.

In this formless place, I did the equivalent of shutting my eyes. I tried to block it out, prayed that my lids would snap open, and that I would not have to go through this again.

“I had hoped you had changed your mind,” Lucifer was very close to me.

His presence sent electric tingles across my being. He was charged with the power I had once possessed, that I had once become drunk off of. Even here, it was intoxicating.

“I have not. I will never join you, brother, never!”

I did not wish to cower like this. I wanted to open my eyes and face him with all the anger that burned inside me. But I was not that stupid. I knew what seeing him would do to me. That ingrained, angelic part of me that could sense he was my superior, made things incredibly difficult.

“That is too bad...”

If I had not learned better, I would have perceived actual pain in his voice. Lucifer had a way of projecting emotions onto others. Back when I'd been confused, vulnerable, I'd been more effected by his sadness than my own. I knew now not to trust my gut when dealing with the archangel.

The betrayer continued, “...I do quite like you, Ramiel. I feel a kinship with you I do not with my other brothers. We have much in common, you and I.”

He was not this stupid. He must have known how his words burned me up from the inside. What game was he playing? What use could I possible be to him now?

“I would rather die than be like you.”

“But you have already been of such help. Why stop now?” He was trying to force images upon me—images from that room under the earth, the place where I had forever lost a piece of my soul. “I am offering you a spot by my side. It is awfully lonely, having no brothers to fight beside me.”

“Because it worked out so well for those who followed you the first time,” I said, venom in my voice.