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Angel Of Death: Hell is empty, all the devils are here
Angel Of Death: Hell is empty, all the devils are here
Author: Garima Dhami

Chapter 1

Somewhere in Europe, April 3, 11:15 a.m.

The pounding of a heart entered the room of darkness that surrounded him. It slowly approached him and at the same time the presence of the associated body increased. In his world of darkness, he had to sharpen his remaining senses to know what was happening to him.

The faint rustling of clothes reached his ear. It didn't sound as soft and full as normal fabric, but crackled more. Maybe a paper surgical suit? An almost imperceptible breeze brushed the sensitive skin of his face as the person turned away from him, almost with a jerk. Barely perceptible tapping and clicking reached his ear now. So she put something into what was called a computer.

He had never understood the point of it. Why spend countless hours collecting data and then not find out anything that you don't already know? What made people waste their already miserable lifetimes in pointless attempts to unravel secrets that, even if solved, would bring nothing to the discoverer except new questions, which would start the whole thing all over again?

If he could have shaken his head, he would have done it now. But therein lay the decisive basic problem of his unwanted stay (or to put it briefly, his imprisonment) here: he was completely immobile, only his thoughts were free. Not that they tied or chained him, they couldn't and they knew that very well. Besides, that would be pretty primitive and uncivilized. No, shackles didn't hold him, but they had devised a much more perfidious means: chemistry.

He was given an injection every day with this hellishly painful solution, against which he was simply powerless. It was enriched with a silver compound, because in a thoughtless moment they found out that the precious metal was corrosive (in the truest sense of the word) to him and paralyzed him. He now had to atone for his only minor negligence in all these years.

What people had done to him in all the decades of his imprisonment was nothing compared to now. He couldn't defend himself if they cut him open; they did not even allow him to scream if they dissected him alive. And they hadn't even known this cruelty before. And for that he envied and hated them most: their complete ignorance of what they were doing to him. They thought he was passed out. Thought wrong.

His body broke down the poisonous metal, but they kept the silver level in his blood so that he had no chance against the coma. But his mind was wide awake and perceived everything around him. But he was cut off from his body, thick blackness blocked his way back. So he had to lie there and endure whatever might come.

The person stumbled away from him. Why hadn't he noticed that earlier? It was the woman who went over the previous night's dates with the doctor every day. His concentration was no longer the best. Well, not surprising after what-I-know-how-much-time.

He had completely lost track of time in his black prison, but he was pretty sure it must have been several decades. But how many, whether two, three or maybe even five, he couldn't say with the best will in the world. He perked up his ears, eager to hear more noises. Then the doctor's typical slipping sound could be heard. He must have had a walking flaw or something, because he had only heard such weird smokes from him before.

"Hello Doctor," said the woman a little away from him, as always in French with a US-American touch. Paper rustled, he had to read through the new documents.

"Any abnormalities?" His scratchy bass asked in Belgian French.

“No, unfortunately none. Patient M's condition is as usual. But the new laboratory values ​​of his skin samples are there, ”answered her young soprano. That's right, they had cut off some skin on the outside of his arm not so long ago. As always, it was healed within a few minutes.

“The skin shows remarkable values ​​in the subcutaneous area. It seems to be like a germ layer; an extremely large number of new cells are constantly being formed. But so far we can unfortunately only guess what the processes behind it are, because the body of this individual functions very differently from ours. But we have almost completed the basic research and may be able to move into phase two in a year, ”the young woman told her older colleague

“That is really remarkable. You should hurry up, the boss has threatened to cut the funds if we don't present any useful results soon, ”he said. An uncomfortable silence ensued. Several times the woman took a breath to say something, but not a sound escaped her lips.

“Come on, tell me. I don't bite, ”came the man's amused voice. How he hated him. How he hated them all. It was all so funny. To die for.

"Well, I ... uh ... well ... What I want to say ... Wouldn't it be faster and easier if we got out of the coma - at least for too short a time -" she interrupted herself when the doctor let out a sharp hiss. " get it and ask? "

Even if the term neuter might be physically correct, he found the term strangely uncomfortable. At home he had been an IT, but here either SHE or HE, depending on how he felt like it and it was offered.

But that was the chance of all chances. How long would he have to wait for a new one? Years? Decades? He just had to risk it. Pleadingly, he turned his thoughts to the doctor:

 Come on, you want it too. Do you know how much I could reveal to you? You would become the greatest scientists in the whole world. You could reveal eternal secrets. Isn't that what you always wanted? Immortality is waiting for you. I can put the whole world at your feet, you just have to wake me up. he continued to flatter intensely.

“I feel so weird. My head ... it hurts ... "the doctor gasped.

Think of all the knowledge I have. It would be yours alone .

Suddenly a loud beep, repeated at regular intervals, penetrated his mind. “What is that ?!” he heard the young woman exclaim, “These readings are amazing. The last time I saw something like this was when ... ", but she paused in mid-sentence," ... as when it almost woke up. "

Cursed! He had completely forgotten that. But it is well known that you should make every mistake twice just to be really sure. Inwardly he made a face. Even he sometimes made rookie mistakes.

“I think it's awake ... It was awake the whole time. Oh God ... ", came the trembling voice of the doctor full of horrified realization about a truth that would have rather remained unspoken. They finally understood.

"Then you think it has noticed everything, the whole time?" Asked the woman in a flat voice. Fabric rustled. Did the man nod?

“It must be investigated! Station A-5? ”She said excitedly and there was a soft click.

“Yes, this is Madeleine. What's Susann up for? ”He heard an unfamiliar woman's voice answer. It sounded kind of weird, almost tinny. There were only two people in this room, how could there be a third voice ?!

"Susann?" Whispered the old man, startled. Apparently she didn't even notice.

"Create a new protocol. Name X-141, ”she dictated. But who? The doctor made no writing noises or anything like that. Who was she talking to? With the strange woman?

"Susann?" The colleague tried a second time.

"No not now. You'd better help me and send it, "the paper rustled," to department 3b in A-5. "She stumbled a few steps away.

"Susann!" He shouted energetically and hurried after her.

"What is it? I told you to ... "

“I know what you're up to. Let it stay! You're welcome. For my love. ”Urged the older man.

"Why not? You have to be open to new things. Your methods may have worked in the past, but now it's time to go a step further. ”Again she stumbled away a little.

“Susann… believe me… I've been here for thirty years. Trust me! You have no idea what it is capable of, ”he pleaded with her now.

“That's exactly why we have to wake it up. After such a long time it will cooperate. I studied psychology for years on the side and worked with hundreds of patients. I know how people work. And now let me pass. "

“But it's not a human! Finally get it! IT IS NOT A HUMAN !!! It will be extremely hateful and take revenge. Have you already forgotten the old recordings when they thought they could still tame it with handcuffs? Do you want a blood bath ??? ”the doctor yelled at her. If he could have nodded, he would have done it now and applauded. The doctor had apparently understood, in contrast to this Susann. What a hollow nut.

“You can't stop it. According to the meeting on Tuesday, I am now the head of this department and therefore have all rights. I am giving you notice without notice for disregarding the authority and obstruction of the work of the department head. You have until twelve o'clock tomorrow to vacate your desk. And now, good afternoon Doctor Jansen, ”the young woman replied frostily and finally stumbled away. The doctor - his name was Jansen - was left breathing heavily. He went up to him and did something bizarrely normal, when nothing was really normal here: he sat on the end of the bed as if this were a sick visit among friends.

“The youth, they never want to listen to the voice of reason. It is to despair. But who am I telling this, you know that as well as I do, ”said the older man into the silence of the room. He felt a little sorry for the man. A rare feeling for him, especially for people. But just as quickly as it had come, this confusion disappeared. He remembered exactly what the human had done to him. And he could never forgive that.

It's not your fault. he said circling the man's head. Maybe there was still a chance he would help him get free. This only growled in agreement.

“You know… I've been hearing you all these years. How you screamed and pleaded All the agony in your voice. But I kept deleting the data. They would have taken you from me "A dry, humorless laugh escaped the doctor's throat:

“It's such an irony. I've spent more time with you than with my wife and children. "

Everything inside Azrael tensed up in one fell swoop. He had WHAT ??? Had he been able to hear him all along? And not once batting an eyelid after he filleted it ??? What was he ??? "Monster" didn't do him justice. It was something much worse, something that had no name.

Azrael grew sick with hatred and anger. He'd tortured him all along and didn't even know it. That was the only way. He didn't want to consider the other one. No, it wasn't true. He was hot and cold at the same time. No, it was the only logical explanation. But the thoughts in his head would not stop.

Maybe he just didn't care, they whispered, he didn't care, maybe even amused. It made so terrible sense, it was so human. He shuddered inwardly. So was he no more than an animal to humans? Then he would treat her like that too, he thought bitterly.

Please understand me. I just want to be free again, feel the wind under my wings and see the beauty of the world, your world. he purred and swallowed his pride.

He would like to throw something big and hard at the man's head, beating him over and over again until his blood and brain turned the walls pink. But what use was it to reveal his true feelings if it didn't bring him any closer to freedom? Azrael could still hold him accountable. But first he had to get his body back. But his self-control wasn't that far off, because his voice went cold as ice.

But you will also have to atone for your sins, I do not forgive anything or anyone, especially not you, you humans.

Damn. Inwardly, he was seething with anger and grinding his teeth. Now he had ruined everything again. But once again the human surprised him:

"Yes, yes, I understand you, somehow I understand you ... But I think you will soon be free again," the man said to him, the last words almost in a whisper. He felt the doctor get up and walk to the head of his bed. The older man leaned down to his ear:

“I'm skipping the injection today. Make something of it. ”The warm breath tickled his ear and the doctor quickly disappeared.

Somewhere in Europe, April 3, 11:48 a.m.

He just lay there and let his mind wander. What else could he do? It took a few hours or so for the chemical to wear off. He wasn't sure. Man, he didn't even know what year it was.

He longed for a cool sea breeze on his face and clouds in his hands, harsh winds that whipped his hair and made him so incredibly pure and alive. The desire for it had grown stronger over the years and decades of his imprisonment. For a long time he could hardly remember the feeling of the enormous air masses around him. But he didn't want to forget it. He just couldn't. Then everything that made him would be irretrievably lost. And with it his abysmal hatred of people grew immeasurably.

Just when he was mentally torturing the woman to death in the bestial way for the hundredth time (he had more than enough experience with it), there was a deafening crash and a tremendous growl. What happened? The alarm sirens howled so high that he thought his ears would burst into two perfectly symmetrical detonation mushrooms. The volume brought his sensitive senses to the limit of pain and if he could have moved, he would have curled up and covered his ears. But condemned to stillness he had to lie there without being able to find out what was happening.

“All people in the building are requested to go to the marked rescue zones immediately. This is not an exercise. Please gather in the marked rescue zones ... “; came a woman's loudspeaker voice. Clap of feet swallowed the rest of the announcement.

"Come on, go, go!", Shouted a strong male voice to drown out the noise of the alarm system, "Everyone almost turn on one side and ..." But a loud crash as the first interrupted him.

Sharp screams flew over to his bed. There was music to his ears, each scream a unique note in a beautiful symphony of human death. Each person less would be one less obstacle in his escape. And besides, what did one more or less mind about their mass?

It rumbled loudly and there was a groan. But not that of a person, but that of a wall. Something collapsed near him with a crash. The darkness lurched around him. Slowly he panicked. He couldn't move and might be buried alive. That would be something new in the story of his death. But he wasn't really keen on it.

A soft trickle could be heard in the sudden silence, it rumbled somewhere far away. The plaster fell on him from the ceiling and tickled his skin. He had to sneeze unconsciously. It sounded extremely loud in the dead silence around him.

He had to get out of here before the building collapsed overhead. Energetically, he turned his gaze inward and blocked out everything around him. With the fingers of his mind, with which he had ensnared the doctor earlier (where was he anyway? - wait, was that maybe his doing ?!), he poked in the darkness around him. Something had to be found. But the blackness stayed around his body like sticky fog, not letting him through. Frustrated, he kept digging harder. It just had to work!

Anger welled up hot in him and clouded his mind. He stabbed, tore and tore the darkness. For a split second he thought he saw something in the darkness, but immediately the whatever disappeared again and again in the fog. That brought the barrel to overflowing. The hatred of many years poured out of him to unite in a tremendous scream that broke out of him like a geyser.

People would pay for keeping him captive and abusing him for so long! What did these lower creatures presume to imprison HIM ?! He had been like a god to her before, but now? When did he allow them to lose their faith? Drunk with anger, he thrashed about in the black mist - and suddenly met resistance.

At first he didn't even notice, but kept foaming. But the second time, that information penetrated his emotionally charged brain. What was that?

Slowly and laboriously forcing his troubled emotions under control, he searched further in this direction with his mind. All of a sudden he bumped into something hard and jerked back in surprise. He crept cautiously around the object and touched it timidly with his mind's hand.

The thing was hard and elongated, but didn't seem particularly big. Curiously, he continued to feel. It tapered towards him and was very delicate and sharp at this end. The other end was thicker and had some strange humps and thresholds that he didn't really know what to do with. More precisely, he let his mind wander over the mysterious object.

It almost seemed to him that the object was filled with liquid. What was that all about? Again he cursed the fact that without a body he had no access to eyes either. Years of blindness had made him hungry for something to see.

Metal scraped on metal. His eye was opened carefully, but not exactly gently. A face half covered by a mask looked at him intently. It was the first thing he saw again after what felt like an eternity. He would have preferred something else. Something dead, for example. But not HE. Of all of them it had to be HE of all people.

The left hand of the human held his eyelid open, while the other was tilted backwards invitingly. Azrael couldn't move his eyes so he couldn't see what was going on. And that made him nervous, almost panicked. His eyelids were held in place with cold metal. Fear rose in him. He was defenseless. He had never been so defenseless in his entire life.

The person turned back to Azrael and he screamed inwardly when he saw what the man was holding in his hand. The sharp scalpel approached his eye as if in slow motion. A single tear formed and ran down his icy cheek. The following was black.

Inwardly shuddering and sighing deeply, he turned away from these thoughts and concentrated again on what he had found.

In his excellent memory, one could almost describe it as photographic, he rummaged around for suitable pictures. A knife? No. A filler? Well Not quite. A syringe? No ... Yes! Yes that was it. A slight euphoria surged through him. He had felt something, even if it was just his mind instead of his hands. A real miracle after so long.

But what was the point of knowing that? He needed his body to get out of here. In the end, people came back before he left. That would be the ultimate catastrophe. But this information must be useful for something! What if he could feel more than the syringe? Carefully he gathered all his concentration and went on a search. Now that he paid attention to the smallest detail, they literally jumped at him like a cocky dog ​​at its master. How could he have been so blind?

Under the syringe he felt a bowl and a small table, both made of a smooth material, metal perhaps. Behind it, the surroundings disappeared into eternal blackness, it was just too far away for his mind. Annoying, but nothing to be changed. Maybe later ...? The closer environment was all the clearer. He was lying on a well-padded bed with a wall to his left, or at least a flat, level surface. It was clearly too smooth for a "normal" wall with plaster or wallpaper. It had to be made of metal or glass.

At the head of a bed was a mass of cupboards with lots of drawers, some of which lay broken out on the floor or half hung on the bracket on the way down. What was in there? Curiously, he continued to feel: to the right of him was the little table with bowl and syringe.

A half-filled bottle lay on the floor, almost rolled under his bed. Was the same liquid in it as in the syringe? That seemed the most obvious solution to him. Moment. Something was still missing here, the final piece of the puzzle. He thought hard. What did he miss? Thoughtful he rummaged through his memory, going deeper and deeper back in time. The woman. It had something to do with the woman. But what? She had evaluated the data from the previous night at the same time every day. Then the doctor was always gone and the woman ... had given him his narcotic. That had to be the liquid

He felt great pleasure in pouring it down the woman's throat. Wouldn't be so nice for her either. He happily perfected: the last injection had taken place yesterday, so it was a little more than twenty-four hours ago and the doctor had deliberately not given him his today. He listened intently. There was absolutely nothing to be heard. It looked like he wasn't going to get any more injections anytime soon. So when would he be able to move again? He knew that at the end of every twenty-four hour cycle he had always been able to feel his body in the fog briefly, even if he had not been able to reach it. So theoretically he should be able to do that now, right?

He calmly turned back to his body. Carefully he shoveled the darkness aside - and recognized shapes. He frowned (imaginary, of course) in confusion. Why couldn't he do that earlier? Anyway, that didn't matter now. The main thing is that the people didn't come back and ruined everything. Now it was time to wait until that damn bitch was gone from his body and he got it back.

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firsty.luvi
Your work is amazing, seriously. Do you have any social media for your books I could follow?
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