Chapter Text
Even a place like heaven needed a figure. A face that could be strung high on a pedestal and exemplify perfection itself. Someone full of righteousness, who could be the living embodiment of the divinity that human souls were promised.
That’s why you were formed. Not to lead, like the Seraphims or guide like the Speaker, but to shine. To be the sun that heaven could orbit and the star that would lead their way. A billboard that would say “You’ve made it. This is perfection.”
The day your light arose coincided with the creation of humanity. The first man and woman would catch a fleeting glimpse of your holy wings across Eden, and from then tales of heaven would evolve across ceilings, stain glasses and chapels. You were the spark that lead them to heaven and once they arrived you'd uphold their every wish.
It began as a small task. All that was expected from you was a glistening smile, respectful attitude, angelic appearance. All things that came naturally to you and that was enough to entice the humans.
But eventually, their demands of heaven increased until their dreams outgrew you.
They began to expect more. A personal paradise that would bend to their every request. You were forced to morph into each individuals dreams, yet their hunger for perfection was never satisfied.
The expectations weighed heavy until your sense of purpose began to falter.
Through your struggle, you were forced to persist. Heaven plastered your face on every poster they could, dressing you to fit each winners request. You posed for portraits, took pictures with pangolins, gave speeches of honour: did anything asked of you.
They insisted you follow their man-made rules of morality, holding you to a standard that even God himself never asked of you. Dress 'appropriately', address them with respect, serve them, as though you hadn't before. Your crown tilted at the pressure as they created more rules. Dos and don'ts. Sins and saints.
All of which you complied. All you could be was determined by others.
That was your purpose. The role you were created for: to appease and please.
Eventually the demands began to constrain you more and more to fit the perfect picture until the pedestal was crumbling beneath your feet, but nobody could see the cracks.
A sharp enough chisel, however, must’ve hit the post because soon enough you’d woken up far from the golden light; a red horizon consuming all.
<3~~~~~~<3
You had no memory of how you arrived there, just a sensation like that of a dream you’d had once before. A sinking, tumbling, falling feeling which this time ended with you crumpled on a dusty pavement.
A pain stemmed from beneath you of a lump pervading your spine. You shuffled uncomfortably at the feeling before reaching down to assess the origin.
The gentle form of your wing lay misshapen and imperfect. You yelped at the realisation, clambering to your feet in horror as you further observed the broken curve.
Around you, some of your loose feathers were splayed across the floor, as if someone had been plucking at them.
Where were you?
It felt too real to be just another dream, though they had been plaguing you recently. Perhaps it was a test from God? A simulation to teach you something. A lesson? Had you failed?
No. It couldn’t be. Whatever it was would be over soon enough and everything would be back to normal. You’d have your daily meeting with Sera, address the crowd at the chapel, cut the golden ribbon to whatever new building they had created this week and then return home upon your cloud. Simple.
You brushed yourself off, smoothing down your outfit and gently tucking your wings to your side to avoid it catching on anything as you explored the new mystery town.
The first thing you noticed was how dark everything was. Even the neon lights felt cold. There were no golden hues or silver tinsel, only dark towers of a sad color wheel.
Each building seemed to be decorated with a crimson paint splattered about, darting up the sides, pooling on the floor, dripping from-
it was coming out of some animals head?
You weren’t too sure honestly. Regardless, you skipped onwards, wings gracefully assisting your bounce off the concrete.
The streets were quiet. Much like heaven during the witching hours, when rest was mandatory like a baby’s nap. You yawned softly, having likely missed that last scheduled recharge. It was strange. You never missed anything.
Suddenly, a display caught your eye. Unlike the other establishments around, it was in pristine condition as though recently polished. It only housed an an array of black rectangles. You stepped up to the glass, intrigued by the unusual sight. Nothing so dark and empty existed in heaven.
You pressed your hand to the glass, leaning your head forward until the edge of your halo tapped against the frame. Still, you could see nothing more inside the building.
Abruptly, color glitched across the rectangles. “Hey, you.”
You jumped back instinctively, startled as blue overtook your vision. The sound didn’t just come from the light in front of you, it echoed around the street from speakers hidden in every corner. Your eyes darted about, searching for the origins of the sound curiously.
“Hello?” The words left your lips quietly, your voice sounding more timid than you’d expected.
“What’s a precious little angel like you doing so far from those pearly gates?” A red eye zoomed in, overtaking the blue, observing you.
“Uhh” You didn’t know how to answer the voice as your usual bubbliness became overtaken by apprehension. You were like a fish out of water away from heavens usual warmth. At your lacking response the red light died out, cutting the rectangle back to black as though you’d imagined the whole thing.
Before you could question your sanity any further, a static strike descended from the maroon sky, leaving a strange figure in its place.
“Now this is interesting!” The figure gleamed, stepping towards your shocked form.
“An angel in hell! And a damaged one at that. Ha. You clearly didn’t fly down here by the state of those wings.” He chuckled, amused at the entertaining sight and edging closer towards you until he’d invasively circled your form to reach your wings. You shivered away from the contact, startled by the improper behaviour. Didn’t he know it was rude to do such a thing?
“I’m not damaged! They’ll heal up just fine.” You defended weakly.
Before now, you’d only ever been the pinnacle of perfection, a hit to your image was more agonising than a stab to the heart. You’d never so much as been insulted before, let alone manhandled and prodded.
Further, you had no idea if the wings truly would recover. It wasn’t like they’d ever been injured before. The unfamiliarity of it all was beginning to get to you.
The figure just looked at you incredulously in response, no less entertained than before. He removed his hand from your wing temporarily, not willing to invoke any wrath just yet. After all, hell had never seen a fallen angel beside Lucifer before, who knew what powers you may have been holding. It wouldn’t be smart to start anything without knowing just what the consequences may be.
“Forgive me. I’ve been so awfully disrespectful, I must’ve just forgotten myself in the shock of it all.” His voice drifted through the air, smooth and calculated. He reached out his hand to introduce himself. “I’m Vox. Welcome to hell, my dear. I’m sure you’ll find it… intriguing.”
You apprehensively shook his hand out of politeness, introducing yourself in return. Your name must’ve struck a memory for him, as his screen glitched in recognition before returning to his appeasing smile. You didn't spot the glint in his eye, or the way the corner of his lips upturned slightly more than they should have.
The one thing that Vox wanted - craved even - had fallen right from the pearly gates and into his perfect clutches: power. You were a figure with great influence, one that was malleable and heavenly enough to have a moral code which could be exploited. It was a simply divine opportunity that he just couldn't resist.
"What a lovely name, very fitting, very holy." Vox repositioned himself to no longer tower above you intimidatingly, but to try and create a comforting presence.
"Now, it's just such a terrible shame..." He emphasised, drawling the words as if in deep thought.
"...that such a sweet thing like you won't last very long down here."
Vox hummed. “I mean, on your own, I'd give you a day or two tops before someone tries to tear those pretty things from your back." Looking down at you pityingly.
You looked up at him curiously, uncertain of why he'd suspect such danger. From what you'd seen so far everything was very quiet - peaceful even.
Vox continued his façade of concern, staring at your wings distantly as though contemplating an idea.
“That's it!" He exclaimed, a sound jumping from his speakers as though you'd won a prize at a carnival.
"I could, though it would be quite the task for me, offer the protection you so clearly need. You're new around here and homeless, I suspect, so someone should take care of you." His smile widened as he attempted the sweetest expression he could manage.
It seemed genuine enough, so you returned it.
“Well thank you for the offer Mr. Vox, but I should be just fine. Whatever mistake this is will be sorted soon enough, so I'm afraid you won't be seeing me for long."
You nodded firmly before turning back to the direction you'd been originally walking in, intending to continue wondering that aimless path.
At your refusal, his tone took on a sinister edge, his claw returning to its earlier place on your wing.
"Oh I don't think you want to do that."
The feeling startled you once more, causing your wings to stiffen fearfully.
“You see, this little area-" He gestured dramatically. "is closed off right now. Protected. Safe. All thanks to me because every sinner was just dying to get their claws on your shiny little self. But I didn't let them. I don't work for nothing. You owe me."
You debated his words. If hell really was as bad as he was saying then maybe he had done you a favour. Maybe he was a good, honest man. Vox noticed your hesitation, waiting to pounce at it.
"So... you're offering safety?"
"Yes!" The rewarding sound returned from his speakers providing you with a sense of achievement. "That's exactly it. All I'm doing is offering you safety, warmth, a place to stay."
"That sounds nice." You smiled hopefully. Heaven would be back for you soon, but in the meantime it couldn't hurt to get to know the locals. You'd tell Emily all about it once you returned, she'd surely be curious of this place ridden in red.
"Perfect! Right this way then." Vox eagerly placed his claw on the centre of your back, just above where your wings met. You moved as he guided, looking at the streets with great interest as you wondered through them. Every so often you'd ask a question about the sight, but Vox would wave you off looking uninterested and declaring that there was nothing to worry about with him around.
Once you'd ventured out of the secluded area, Vox looked back at you in thought, staring uncomfortably at your angelic features before deciding that they must be hidden for now. He begrudgingly wrapped his jacket around you before looking judgementally at the stubborn outline of your misshapen wing.
Next was the problem of the halo, which was quite quickly solved once he robbed an unaware sinner of their hat to place it firmly over your head. You protested at the "meanness" of it, earning a small, reluctant apology from the overlord.
As you walked onwards, the surrounding buildings began to grow in stature and pizazz. From them shone neon displays, animated billboards and the occasional firework. You stared in awe as you were pushed towards the tallest one, now swarmed with people.
Your disguise stopped too much unnecessary attention, but Vox himself was immediately pounced at by numerous reporters. He brushed them off calmly, too focused on the other business of monopolising the only angel in hell.
He parted the crowds with such ease, pushing you forward smoothly into an elevator. It was darker than the ones in heaven, but then again everything here was.
You missed the golden hues, rainbow skies and silver clouds of home.
The sharp ding snapped you out of your momentary melancholy as the doors opened to a sharply decorated business room. It would've reminded you of meetings with Sera if it wasn't quite so eerie.
"Is this where you live?" You tried to keep your tone perky despite your evident discomfort.
Vox laughed, "Oh heavens no! My private suite is way further up this building. I own the whole thing, I wouldn't settle on such a small intimate room like this."
You blinked. It was a well sized room. He was very overdramatic when it came to showing off.
“This is just one of the places you'll get to enjoy during your time here. A place where we can sort out all the details of our little arrangement." Vox dragged out the final word like a sweet, winning prayer. The glint in his eyes accompanied his giddy grin as he clasped his hands together in anticipation.
"We're going to sort everything out perfectly for you, all you need to do is trust me.”
<3~~~~~~<3
"...my soul?"
"But that's immoral. You can't own someone's soul! It has to be shared through marriage." You insisted, eyebrows furrowing at his suggestion.
Oh how naïve, he thought. "That's not how it works down here, sweetheart. The rules in hell aren't so strict. It really isn't a big deal, all it will do is allow me to protect you how I need to."
Hesitation overtook you once more, evident by the way your hands clasped at the edge of your seat as if readying yourself to flee. Vox didn't want to make you feel like a caged bird, so he backed down ever so slightly. His expression turned to one of pity once more. With a snap of his fingers, every screen in the room began to display different depraved acts. There were sinners with their eyes torn from their sockets, demons feasting on loose brains seeping that same crimson liquid you'd seen all over the streets.
"W-what is that?" Your skin itched uncomfortably.
"That, my little angel, is the reality of hell."
A scream echoed from the speakers, distorted like an old radio static. "Blood spilt, bodies torn, cannibalism. And that? It's only the beginning. This place has evil your divine mind couldn't conjure for it's worst nightmares."
"Blood?" You felt so lost at the sight, slowly catching up to his words.
"I suppose you haven't seen much of that considering yours is so... holy."
Vox leaned almost impossibly forward to take another look at your injured wing. He found the sight of your blood delectable like one of Velvette's love potions.
You lost some of your glow at the cruel revelation, a chilling feeling overtaking you.
"Look, if you won't let me look after your soul then I suppose I could consider a different form of deal. Just for you."
It was true. This offer was a rare one. Mostly because Vox wasn't even sure if he could own an angels soul out technicality. Until that was certain, he needed to find another way to assure his control over the situation.
After all, being the first overlord to reach you was too big an advantage for him to dismiss. There was so much possibility.
"You'd do that?" You’d thought the no-soul thing would’ve been a deal breaker.
At your hopeful response, Vox only gleamed at the opportunity.
“Of course. I'll take care of you, all you have to do is work for me, just until heaven comes to pick you up. Oh and you can't make any deals with anyone else. Can't have any overlords getting their hands on such a precious little thing without my say so."
He looked at you reassuringly, the light warmth in his voice making the prospect of a deal seem much less frightening. Heaven never had such deals as roles were assigned by God, not negotiated between souls. This was uncharted territory.
His proposal didn't sound bad at all and the optimistic shine in his eyes made it difficult to refuse. How could you let this lovely friend down? Vox only meant well.
The would only last until you were saved from this demonic place, which would be no time at all, and in the meantime you'd have a haven.
Even so, something deep within held you back. A visceral instinct preventing your agreement. Vox could feel his grasp slipping away.
Frantically, he snapped his fingers once more, disrupting your thoughts with the louder, viler degeneracy of the streets glaring at you. This time it was more graphic. You could hardly decipher what was happening in the various scenes. A mess of limbs entangled and dismembered, various fluids coating the depraved display. Organs splayed across bodies some tied together by chains. Piles of sins you couldn't even name.
Vox's desperate act just instilled a deeper fear, juxtaposing your thoughts of haven. Eyes glazed over, head tilting with the videos motions, following the sight. Eventually you found some words, but not without your lower lip wavering uncertainly.
"Why are they doing that?"
There must be a good reason. Your eyes couldn't leave the sight.
"Because this is hell." Vox's words began cold before he began to add more emphasis, slowly drawing you in.
"This is what sinners do! I told you, its a scary world out there. That's why you need me."
The words flowed so smoothly and convincingly that all you could do was nod.
You did need him.
Tiredness was creeping up on you. These sights, the horrors, the emotional toll and the promise of some solace within it...
"Okay." The agreement tumbled out.
Vox’s screen flickered before he reached to lift your hand carefully. "Is that a deal then, sweetheart?"
"Keep me safe?" You asked for the final time, the prospect now feeling distant.
"Safe from other overlords... And I ask of you so little in return." Your wilful trust makes you miss the sly slip in his wording and dismiss the sharp crackle in the air. You were still having a hard enough time believing that anyone would want to hurt another. Why would you doubt Vox?
"Yes please." You shook his hand so politely though exhaustion racked through your body, about to be overtaken by a jolting sensation.
Your hands met in a tangle of blue electric and golden beauty, flowing up into you both lending him your angelic glow. The room sizzled with electricity, frying each screens circuit and cutting off Vox's corrupt displays.
The laugh he let out was borderline maniacal alongside his faint victorious mutterings "fuck you, Alastor" "oh Val's gonna be so fucking jealous" "I WIN".
You could barely make the words out in your daze, sudden dizziness stemming from the electric in your veins.
The last thing you saw was Vox’s hypnotic gaze before your vision swirled and collapsed.