My Demon Angel Prologue

You make a deal with the Devil? There's no going back. The Dark Angel has you for the rest of your immortal soul's existence. Forever.

I knew this. I was fully aware of it. How could I not be? I lived when it was preached throughout Europe that the Devil could tempt you in more ways than was physically possible. When I was in Florence, I heard Savonarola's sermons that echoed from behind the closed doors of the churches. I knew what I was getting in to.

I made the deal.

"Do you want to live forever?"

"Yes."

I thought I was already going to Hell, even without selling my soul to serve. Didn't John Milton say in his Paradise Lost that it is "better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven?" I disagree, from my standpoint. But then, I've never been to Heaven before. What's it like, tell me? Is it a rich and beautiful landscape? Are the trees as green as they say? Is it paradise? I don't know. I couldn't tell you.

How could I? I'm the demon Samael. I take the souls from Earth who have left their bodies and bring them to Hell. I'm constantly in contact with the angel that brings them to Heaven. He doesn't look at me. And when he acknowledges my presence, it is with disgust.

"You're that demon who harbors the tainted souls to Hell, aren't you?"

"Yep, that's me."

He's the only angel I've ever seen, this Angel of Death, the Azrael from biblical stories. He's not all that special. Just a cantankerous old angel tired of his job that's so closely associated with death. I think he's fortunate. He gets those souls that are beautiful, pure. They don't argue and fight you all the way to their final destination.

He's never been to Hell before. He's never had to deal with the demons that surround you as you enter, as you cross the river Styx and dump the souls that belong on a different level along the way. Hmm, yes, I think you belong on this level. That's what it says on the list. Oh, you're all right, you could have gone to Heaven, except you didn't believe in the right material of theology. I'll drop you off at Limbo. Say, you're a murderer, you killed your own brother! It's the ninth circle for you.

The Divine Comedy, specifically the Inferno. No man has ever written a more accurate description of hell. Dante Alighieri's epic poem describes the aspects of Hell so acutely, he must have had some divine sight from God. A prophet? Perhaps. I read the epic when I was in my younger years, when I'd only committed a single crime. It was a written work of art, but I thought it to be fictional, unreal. Foolish me. It's all too real for me now. I can't escape the Inferno. I live in it. I watch over Hell, fly over each circle with my great black wings and unceremoniously dump my passengers.

My wings are my only happiness. They are beautiful. I'm not supposed to have them, which gives me more pleasure. No demon is allowed wings. But I have them, through some unknown glitch in the divine system of how things work. It is only myself and Satan who are able to take flight.

My fellow demons are jealous of me, and they make Hell even more torturous to endure. The demoness Lilith hates me more than any other demon. She's waited for another Samael to appear for thousands of years. He was her mate, her lover. And I've rejected her. I'm the only celibate demon. Why? Long story, one I will tell if you give me time enough to tell it.

I shall begin with my full story now. How I became a demon of Hell, the Grim Reaper, bringing the dead back to Hell's fire. I shall begin simply. I shall start with my human life.