The room is oddly quiet as I sit here, tied to the chair as a prisoner. There are two guards at the door staring at me, but they don't move at all. One might think they are statues but I know they are not, even if they haven't moved in a few hours.
I am very bored as they have kept me here in this room, tied down for about 2 hours, but that's the point. They want me off guard so I can slip up. These people aren't local thugs trying to be a gang to sell weed off the street corners, this is real. This is not just for the fate of my life and the people I care about, but for the fate of the world.
My name is Renshal, but everyone calls me Ren. I happen to be what is called a mage, or in simple terms, a magic user. I know books and movies make magic look easy and that anyone that finds a spellbook can do it, but that's fiction. Very few can actually practice magic because you need to have a certain genetic trait. In a way it's no different than having brown eyes or black hair. Just something you happen to be born with.
"Do my eyes deceive me? Is the great and powerful Renshal here in my humble abode?" I hear an angelic voice ask. Hearing her voice, which sounds as smooth as silk, I prepare myself. I knew this was going to happen, and now have to go through with it.
The voice's owner comes through the gate where I am already braced for what's about to happen. A second later, a wave of powerful emotion rolls over me. The feeling of great calm and grace hits me, forcing my body to relax and my mind to wonder. It's like getting a shot of some drug before surgery where you can't help but feel good no matter how bad of shape you are in.
As a mage, I've been trained. Trained in spellwork, trained in battle, trained in 20 different languages, trained for just about anything you can think of. It's now I use my training to help protect myself. I know that I can't stop myself from feeling these feelings she projects, but I can react in a proper way. It's about the reaction and how to think instead of trying to stop or block the feelings.
"Yes he is," she answers her own question as she stops in front of me. This is Berith, what you might say is my mortal enemy. She is a fallen angel, believe it or not. Yep, those fallen angels. All the ones that were cast out of Heaven long ago. Most because they sided with Lucifer, but a few because they were big assholes and deserved to be kicked out, like her.
Berith very much looks like an angel too. Her feminine body is extremely pleasant to look at as she is slender and curvy yet toned, with long silky black hair, olive skin and if I'm being honest, a very stacked upstairs. When describing her, most have the same exact description of her; the perfect woman.
Once the feeling of forced calm passes, I'm able to look at her. You see angels, even fallen angels produce what is called "grace." This is why everyone that has ever seen an angel always say how at peace they were. It's just something they produce to calm everyone within their radius. It can overwhelm you if you are not expecting it.
"Now...you need to explain this plan of yours, because I don't get it," she asks, looking confused. I know this is an act as the only reason she is here is to torture me. We both know that I am one of the leaders of my clan and have a great deal of information that she could use. Her goal is to get as much information out of me that she can before killing me.
"You just barged in and thought you could take down the entire compound?" She asks incredulously. My only answer is to smirk. Yeah, it does sound stupid the way she says it.
Technically that is what I did. She is on a military-like compound way out in the middle of the Arizona desert. I drove out here, then hiked to where it was. Then I went to the front gate, and fired off a spell to let myself in. I then marched right through the compound, battling any and everyone that came at me. Hundreds of her cronies fell to me and it'll take her years to rebuild to where she was after all I did. Even now, hours later I bet parts of this place are still on fire.
"We both know you have a plan. That you weren't doing some suicide mission," Berith states, now in a seductive soft tone. She walks up to me now, and I look away. Damn she is just so fucking hot. She wears black skin-tight pants and a white skin-tight top which shows off her cleavage. It's enough to make a lesser man break down in lust.
I brace myself as she opens her legs wider and wider, then sits on my lap. As I am just a man, the erection that I have can plainly be felt by her when she sits on my lap. But that's the point. She knows what she is and how she drives men. She's using it against me. Creatures like her love to use human emotions and traits against us.
"Tell me, what's your plan?" She asks, leaning over to ask me in my ear, pressing those soft breasts of hers against my own chest. She stays like this for a few moments, going so far as to rock her hips so her ass rubs over my hardon. Doing this causes a brief wave of pleasure to move over my body as the feeling of her breasts and ass are very tempting.
"Just wanted to hurt you," I tell her, hoping this is enough to get her off of me. She laughs at this, not believing it at all. Like a dancer she smoothly steps off of me, allowing me to release the breath I started to hold.
"Tsk tsk," she then says as she notices what I'm wearing around my neck. It is a necklace with a quarter sized medal hanging down, only the necklace is made of twine and not a better material. I know it looks rather cheap, but I wasn't wearing it for looks. The medal is pure silver and contains a sigil to prevent a demon from possessing my body.
"I'm a fallen angel, not a demon. We don't possess anyone. This will do you no good here," she says while holding the medal in her hand. I know she does it to show that even if she touches it, it won't hurt her.
"If I wasn't tied down..." I start to say, the two of us knowing that I am more than a match for her. In a one-to-one battle between the two of us, it would be close but I believe I would win. That's why my hands are cuffed and my legs tied to the chair. She doesn't dare want me to do anything just listen to her.
"Please," she waves off the rest of what I was about to say. She then starts to walk around me, making a circle around my chair. The way she does this makes me feel like a stranded wounded animal in the middle of a circling shark.
"We both know you and your goobers have some plan, otherwise you wouldn't have done something so suicidal. How about you just tell me what it is, so I don't need to get...messy," she says, being rather blunt. This is when she pulls out a rather nasty looking blade.