"Holy shit!" the white winged angel thought to himself, repulsed by the sight of the most appalling demon standing next to him.
The whole span of his body was mottled red and green; reptilian bruised purple bumps and ridges were scattered about in clusters all over his skin. His devilish facade merged seamlessly into his neck, with black eyes that had no doubt been darkened by contact lenses. The atrocious highlight of his attire, however, was the snake draped around his neck- a very dangerous looking black viper. It lifted its head and stared at the angel through glowing yellow slits.
"Excuse me? I didn't see you there. Are you an angel or something?" he asked the angel disinterestedly.
"That obvious, is it?" the angel pouted.
"Well, something seems out of place. Turn around."
The arrogance in the devil's tone unnerved the angel, but he modestly turned his back toward him anyway.
"Like this? What is it?"
The chill of a cold stare scoping his spine made him even more uneasy.
"It's just that for an angel, you don't look especially innocent. At least not back there."
The angel shuddered at this observation, and the skin on his face and neck reddened hotly. Fortunately, a white half mask covered the upper portion of his face, and it helped to conceal his shame. He craned his neck around to gaze down on his back and then tripped on his words.
"Oops! It's slipped down again. I didn't mean for that to be a part of the look."
The angel was wishing he could hide somewhere.
"It's alright. You shouldn't feel too... embarrassed," the devil lingered on the last two syllables.
It was the most brutal pun. All night long the angel had been fumbling with the flowing lower section of his costume. He had wrapped white silk around the smooth skin of his waist and hips but it kept shimmying its way back down again. A deep triangular shadow at the base of his spine was now evident, and it narrowed into about two inches of visible crack. The angel reached back to pull the garment upwards, but became very flustered after several feeble attempts to fix the costume.
"Can I help you with that?" the devil then propositioned, and before the angel could interfere he felt cool fingertips on his lower back; hands tugging sharply upward and tightening the silky material around his waist.
"That's much better. Now you look truly angelic."
This time, there could be no denying the sarcasm in the devil's words. The angel turned around to face him again, and the black snake's eyes glowed orange at him.
"Thank you. Does the devil have a name?" Alan asked shyly.
"Alexus Monde. Alex is fine, though; how about the angel?"
"Sinsory," the angel answered softly.
"Sinsory. What an interesting name for an angel. Committed any sins lately?"
"No, and I have no plans to do so in the near future," the angel answered, perturbed at the devil's verbal calculation.
When he looked up again at Alex, he felt possessed to reach out and take one of the tiny horns protruding through his curly locks into in his fingers. The idea of it sent a shiver down his spine, but he changed his mind just as he started to lift his hand up.
Alan Hower (the angel's real name) walked away from Alexus Monde then, and began to wander through a weird mix of nocturnal beings that had gathered to celebrate Halloween in this altogether foreboding haunted mansion. Moving tentatively into the flickering gloom of its unfamiliar interior, Alan found it impossible to recognize anyone. There were at least a dozen witches, a few flashy looking rave animals, and many shadowy forms shifting about to a densely layered soundtrack of analog synthesizers and unearthly incantations. The night wore on; the subsonic bass grooves became considerably more menacing and the dancing more raw and sensual. When Alan found himself wondering where Alex had gotten to, it disturbed him but he did not know why.
So now Alan went room to room in the gothic party house, rooms with ghoulishly engraved anagrams over their doors, like the one he now approached: "Die Sin." Hearing low moans from within, he was tempted to stop and listen, but he needed to find a bathroom quickly. He scaled a rickety stairwell, and found what he was looking for at the end of a lengthy hallway. Above the door it read: "O let it." Alan laughed.
Once inside the bathroom, Alan flicked a switch and discovered it did nothing. He decided to leave the door open a crack to let what little light there was from the hallway come in. Then Alan walked over to the toilet, and upon lifting the silk wrap up around his waist, sat down. The toilet seat was very cold on his smooth ass. He sat there nervously for several minutes, before stirring at the sound of a faint tap on the door. It began to creak open further, and the effect it had on his bodily functions was instantaneous.
"Occupied!" he blurted out, his heart pounding wildly.
Then he heard the familiar voice of Alex.
"Sorry. I didn't realize anyone was in there!"
Once again, Alex's words did not ring true.
"It's okay. I'll be out in a minute!"
Alan finished up, flushed the toilet, and went back out into the hallway. Alex was standing there, the black snake dangling in his hand.
"Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!" Alan scolded, making Alex laugh.