Well, here we arrive at a character which I kept in reserve for the last to be mentioned: Eremiel, the father of the Beast, aka, Evil. Fallen Archangel, the extremely handsome Eremiel is bad to an unsettling purity. He is the nasty piece of cake that the Angels have constantly faced for almost an eternity as their Arch-enemy. He ruled Hell for a long while, after being ‘fired’ by the Tutor and sent there, and after depositing Hades from his Hell throne, shortly afterwards. Eremiel is the evil character in It-666 Saga: we meet him in all the books written in one form or another. He is that undermining constant Being which wants none to have an ‘happy ever after’ apart from himself.
Well, he has done enough to never get happiness, so destroying the one of others is the next best thing. He is very good at destroying anything from hope to life. In fact he has become a Master in that matter. Scheming and planning for the destruction of all, gives Eremiel his best orgasm of all time with the demonic goddess Lilith, conceiving the Beast, which is meant to bring the Apocalypse about. Although, the conclusion of it/It all is not going according to his devastating plans.
Thwarting them are mere humans: first, Father Arthur Williamson, who has the guts to curse and abduct his daughter, then much later, Walter Workmaster, who has the guts to adopt the Beast whilst, he is her own father and still alive. To make matters worst, even Angels give a hand to the humans to reinforce their projects to protect humanity. I can not start with a word strong enough which encompasses the boiling anger of Eremiel. For him, his Evil daughter was ruined, spoilt to a non-recognition point, a traitor to destroy, slowly or fast like all others. Worst she is working for Wrath, who he hates with a passion.
The story of Eremiel runs deep into a long history, intertwined with the one of Raphael and Azryel. I will indulged you to a snippet passage of book three, which tells more about it:
Throwing the leather satchel upon his shoulder, Death pestered,
-Aren’t my shoulders very broad? Anything else to be thrown upon them?
Wrath coming by his general tapped his shoulder in a brotherly fashion,
-Yes, make sure they come back to me and fast. Go and stay safe. I will be waiting for you in the yard.
His general grinning to him answered with a wink,
-I will make sure you do not miss overloading them for too long, Raphael.
Jumping upon the back of Armageddon, Death ordered her to spread her wings. Her crimson dragon wings opened straight away, as the Archangelic Beast told,
-She is dying for a good ride!
When his hand tapped the strong neck of the Dra-Rex, Azryel promised before making the creature taking off,
-Is she now? Let’s give her one she will remember for I am the Master of good rides, especially the dying great freaking ones. And off we go Babies, see you soon, make sure you will not do anything I would not do.
Seeing the Dra-Rex disappearing in the Hell’s sky high ceilings, Asha turned to Wrath with a knowing look and commented,
-The question is what will he not do?
To which the Archangel answered with the most stern and serious look,
-If you knew fully his abilities and what he can do like I do, plenty. Now let’s make sure you, Met and Adre get a small rest before dawn. I will stay there with It looking out for Az and any unwelcome intruders like more of Hades’s Guards. Give the rest orders and look after this household from the inside. You will have my telepathic call in case of an alert, so be at rest until then, Soldier.
When Asha left the yard, Wrath sat on the bench and enjoined the teenage Beast to do the same as him. She took a place by him, he then added,
-Make yourself comfortable Soldier, nap on my shoulder and let me tell you a bedtime story which might stir you deep down, for it relates to Eremiel, Azryel and I in antediluvian times. Close your eyes, take it in all in, for you are just being given my version of what happened back then. Death behold the version which will not spare any sensibilities. A very long time ago, two Angels were conceived on the same day, one was made out of light, fire and a very specific Angelic essence. This Angel was given many names like a god, as he had within him the divine power to become one. His peers called him Eremiel. As for the second Angel, he was made out of darkness, fire and the very same Angelic Essence. Conceived together, they were meant to be the antipode of each other. When one had flowing blond curls, the other one had raven black ones. When one had the skin the colour of milk, the other one’s skin was as black as the night sky. When one’s gaze was shimmering like an ocean stroke by noon sun rays, the other was like emeralds set on fire. Both were unusually and strikingly handsome. You will have guessed by now that the second Angel is none but Azryel. Their infancies were miles apart. Death was brought up by a very ancient god in a deep cave, where he was not allowed to see the light of day. From a young age he was trained to answer humanity and creatures’ plight. His only companions on his nocturnal outings were wolves. He was taught to sacrifice himself for all Angels and to become the sole beholder of the most dreaded job of all, which was bringing death and dealing with souls. On the other hand, Eremiel was brought up by a goddess who dwelled chiefly in the aether. Petted and encouraged by gods and goddesses to become one of them, Eremiel lived a rather plush existence. While Azryel was a solitary Being, reclusive to the point of shunning the company of others, Eremiel was extremely popular, seeking being the centre of attention and surrounded by followers. Now in the Angelic, Beings and gods society, nothing is a given, you have to earn and deserve everything. The friendless and feared Death Angel was dutiful and hard working. It was not long before he had his own realm. When wars and fights started rampaging the Earth, I was tasked to become another punisher and to bring the wrath of the gods to the sinning human and Beings. This is when I had to learn how to deal with souls and their punishments from Azryel. I would say this is when our working relationship started, and I hated to have to work with him. I found him cold, distant and truly right down intimidating. He would barely talk to me. Yet I also saw at the way he cared for the souls he had to take, a deep down kindness, mixed with sympathy wrapped up by great sadness. On task together, I realised that he would always protect me from the hardest duties, taking them upon himself.
-Why would he do that? Aren’t you the strongest being an Archangel?
Looking at the inquisitive eyes, Wrath realised that It was deeply eager to know their Angelic story. He smiled kindly to her as he replied,
-Well, I asked him because I felt demeaned by that attitude. Was I not good enough in his eyes to carry on a task, I thought. If I truly wasn’t good then how would I learn to improve by not being allowed to do it. So I challenged him. When I expected him to be arrogant with me and imposing upon me by putting me down, his answer surprised me in a disarming way. He confessed that he did not want to see shadows upon any Angel’s smile. I realised then that he was sacrificing his own happiness for the one of all other Angels. If he didn’t mix with us for some reason or another yet he deeply cared for us. My irrational hate of him disappeared to be replaced by a profound respect. I could understand why that Angel was given a kingdom, his own Army and so on. Previously I thought it was due to his frightening intelligence which seemed to know everything, but also his extreme powers, and the fact that he was well verse in ancient Magic. However Eremiel possessed all those three attributes but remained without a kingdom. Jealousy driven, the Archangel decided to take for himself whatever he could from Earth itself, destituting humans by the thousands, making them believe he was the God, the one and only, in different places and manners, over several thousands of years. He was set on creating havoc. Prior to that he showed an insane interest in Death’s activities, believing that being the son of Darkness did set apart Azryel utterly from the rest. Eremiel started to delve into the darkest magic with the intention of earning a kingdom by it. Having tried to befriend Death in order to learn from him his art, Eremiel’s soul fell under the scrutiny of the Ultimate Punisher. Az became extremely worried for the Archangel, so much so that he warned that the Angel was on the verge of falling and that we all needed to catch him back before it happened. Alas, set to follow his own path, refusing all help as offences, Eremiel who could have become a god, was so engrossed in his quest of getting himself a kingdom that he started his crimes. He could not understand why being born on the same day, his success did not match the one of Azryel, him who was the son of Light. Once his jealousy had settled in, it was impossible to make him see things in a different way. In fact, it was his great pride and arrogance, the demeaning way he was treating his followers, Angels and humans alike, that had put a barrier between him and an earned realm along with a god status.
-I remember the way Eremiel addressed me, during his call that sent me levitating but also when we took him from the Boston sewers, and I did find him extremely unpleasant. My blood is curdling just at the mere thought of it. What he says and how he is saying it is just terrifying, truly devious. There is something I am curious about. It is that Azryel rarely mentioned his realm.
Staring in front of him to no specific point, the Archangel explained,
-The Death Angel gave up everything he had to my custody to prevent any other Angel to fall pray of jealousy and envy. He has access to his realm to deal with the souls there but his castle has been left abandoned since almost the stand off he had with Eremiel. He even entered my service as a slave to make sure none ever uses his titles when addressing him. Staying close to me, he is striving to make sure that no Angel of my Angelic Army ever falls again. He is our Watcher. However to save me from death, and in his subsequent fight, Azryel used extreme powers he should not have condemning himself to be partly damned. He will always remain an Angel but never be raised to an Archangel. Hence this is why I am worried with his will to reuse his ancient magical powers to protect me. For me, he has done enough already for an eternity.
-May I asked what did Azryel do?
-He almost sacrificed his soul in order to assess how far gone was Eremiel, what was the capacity and powers of that Archangel. He nearly put his entire life at risk up until he knew with exactitude the way Eremiel was fighting, pushing him to almost the limit of his resources. When he learnt all he needed, Az stopped the fight by his stunt before it was too late for him. He realised Earth and humanity needed protection but that he could also teach my Angels and I how to do so and train them to defend themselves and eventually tackle Eremiel.
Pouting the Archangelic Beast commented,
-This is not fair that Az was partly damned when his intentions aimed at protecting others.
Wrath ruffling her curls, scolded her kindly,
-My little soldier even Az could tell you that intentions are not everything, the methods you employ to achieve a mean are crucial because you are judged by your actions. The Death Angel of the past did not care as much for his own soul as much as for the souls of all others. That fearsome Being was a loner and very much not liked by almost everyone. Devoid of love and appreciation for his sacrifices and work, Azryel was slowly sliding into a dark despair, he had almost gave up on his own self. After the fight, I took his wounded self to his castle. I was not allowed to fix him up because of what he had done to his Angelic soul. He, himself avoided my eyes with the deepest palpable shame. I was gutted that I could not help there and then the very Angel that rescued me so selflessly. We had our first deep conversation as I laid him on the plank bed without bedding in his so called bedroom. I was astounded by the monastic austerity of the place he took his rest. Asking him where he kept any pillows and covers so I could make him more comfortable, he told me he had none, that he could not rest anyhow because of who he was. He then told me to listen to him attentively. We spoke about the advent of evil Eremiel and Az told me that he will teach all Angels for them to be able to fight, then when this was accomplish to eliminate him, the Grim Reaper before he could complete his damnation that he had used to much dark powers to remain safe. I felt so compelled by his sense of care of all yet that he himself got none, I dared to tell him off for the first time in my eternal life. He received the stern scolding by laughing at my face, and told me where to find the way out in his castle, that he would come to me when he was well enough to teach me and my Army to fight for themselves before he would killed himself as I did not want to dirty my hands by doing the job of removing him. I put an ultimatum to him as I left, that if his intentions were to finish the damnation of his soul by his suicide, he could keep his teaching for himself and take them to his grave. That I would have no desire to see him. However if he wanted his soul to be saved before it was too late for him then I would welcome him with all my heart and help him with all my strength, despite him berating me.
Feeling the sleepy head on his shoulder rolling down to his laps, trying to keep vainly awake, the Archangel stopped talking and stroke the blond curls of It pensively. As her eyes closed, her lips begged,
-Please Master, tell me what did Azryel chose?
Wrath smiled and answered,
-This is an easy one to guess my Child as he trains my Angelic Army since an eternity. Back then the news of the fight had spread like wildfire splitting up Angels severely. Some by fear of Eremiel decided not to oppose him but to join his ranks. The uncertainty in my own Army was great. I was concerned about the ultimatum I gave Death, worried that it would have push him to kill himself sooner rather than to come forward. After all Eremiel dismissed all help before his fall, could it be different for the partly damned Azryel. Would this powerful Angel be humble enough to accept help? Three days after the fight, my despair turned into hope when I saw the barely walking Grim Reaper kneeling by me with a proposal unheard of. He was no Eremiel that could not be stopped onto his tracks. He was not too proud either as he humbled himself more than I ever witnessed before or after. Azryel just surrendered himself to me completely. I have been his Master ever since helping him just as I promised, and he hanged on on his part of soul left like his only treasure and possession worth keeping. He doesn’t know it, but he has regained part of his lost soul fighting with this Army. I am keeping this from him however to make him carry on but also to only announced to him the full success when it will occurs.
At the gentle snooze upon his laps Raphael smiled peacefully as he added softly,
-And this is why my little Beast, Azryel who found out about Eremiel more than any other at his own expense is the best Master you can ever wish for.
(book 3, chapter/verse: The Ghouls.)
Hope you enjoyed the story of Wrath, Az and infamous Eremiel. So the character of Eremiel is not a one off one. He lingers in minds, walls, mirrors, observing his victims, learning about them, readying himself to creep upon them in the most fatal way. Often called the Soothsayer, he has the capacity to invade anyone’s mind and talk to it in a pervasive, inducing way. The result, even in the strongest individuals may lead them to become Eremiel’s useful object and tool, but also ultimately lead to their death.
He is a user and abuser. As a writer, small details make me create endlessly, like adding colourful threads into a tapestry. I sat in a pub once, well, correction, many times in a pub, but once right by an ex-convict, who had a conversation which was most interesting. The reformed man had a tattoo etched on his forearm: ‘What goes around, comes around.’. A story of karma in itself inked into his own skin. He felt it very deep down: karma. I use the theory of karma throughout my Saga. It affects all the characters, and Eremiel does not escape from it: he is used and abused by his own demons. The irony of it provides some sort of relief to his ‘Nastiness’.
P and his Cambion witch Cato have managed the feat to diminish Eremiel, slowly but surely in order to use him as they wish. Yet, they do not have a tame Eremiel for that will never happen. They have a slippery snake on their hands, ready to bite any hands, feeding him or not. With the intervention of Wrath, they lose their precious black mamba. The Archangel retrieves his arch enemy with the little Beast’s help to imprison him… The result of that endeavour of Wrath will be disclosed in the later instalments of the It-666’s Saga.
Let’s end with the end of Book one:
‘As the young woman died below his feet, P offered her precious organ to the snake, which took it all slowly, still pulsating slightly.
He called out in tongue through the darkness of the night, accompanied by the evil pray of his followers,
-It, Dear It-666, Control pan’all to you. Major Hell princess on the loose, your great Father is calling you and forever. Listen, listen, you can only listen to your Father.
Miles away, the sleeping It levitated upon her bed within Purallee’s clinic at that very moment. Archangel Raphael stood up straight away, worried,
-What’s up now?
It-666 floating within the room woke up. Her demonic black eyes opened upon the room and stared into the darkness as the surrounding walls started bleeding.
Gabriel slapped by his uncle woke up to witness the levitation of It-666 and asked wildly,
-Who did upset the damn girl?
-She is doing it by herself. I swear. She was sleeping nicely a minute ago. And then, she went all levitating. Something is up, Gab. Where is Az when you need him?
Azryel came at that very moment and stood by the door extinguishing his cigar upon the door frame. He watched intently as the levitating girl awoke and started speaking in tongue. He swore,
-Great, we have her Dad on the line. He made a bloody connection to It…
Gabriel looked at him very worried, asked,
-How can he? The girl was trashed by him for dead for her past sixteen years.
The Death Angel replied strongly,
-He never trashed her, she was abducted at birth by a fervent priest and nun who aimed to protect the World. He tried to find her via P and he just did. He is talking to her right now. The feat took the death of a fair few humans. It-666 will never be the same again. She has direct contact with Hell from now on. She is going to be a Hell Baby to deal with, of that I am certain… Are we sure about raising the girl up?
(verse 37: The Calling: Hell control to It-666.)