((Sorry for the delay, i had a lot of trouble with this chapter and i'm not really sure why... anyhow here it is, sorry it's not the greatest... :) ))

~~~~~~~~~~Anti's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello Nate."

He stands in the open doorway, hardly taken aback at the use of his name. He leans against the frame of the large entrance, though there is nothing relaxed about his energy. At his sides his hands both clench into white-knuckled fists, one holding a silver blade. The metal, upon closer inspection, is inscribed with a multitude of symbols some I find my mind warning against. Regardless I offer up a smile, I don't doubt it comes off as anything but kind.

He steps into the room, and the wood door clicks shut behind him, the soft noise loud against the ever-present silence. Boot-clad feet move quickly, circling around the shined, oak tables in the center of the large room. I follow the motion with a matched amount of dignity, until we slowly circle, a predator and prey, lets find out which he is.

Any previous thoughts, any previous crazed jumbles of uncertainty fade to a cold apathy. I find myself smiling at the being, getting a read from his movements, his expressions, the glint in his eyes. He's a warrior... He certainly has such a spirit, such a skill, but he's lacking.

Obedience, self-control, respect. He has none of it, but there is passion. He appears enraged, and the fact he's alone....

Trouble in paradise?

"It's very rude to barge in without a hello, Nathan."

A snarl is my only response for a time, but within a moment his face falls to cold indifference. He really should work on his poker-face, every stiff movement, every twitch of the shiv in his hand gives him away.

His pale face creases as his eyes narrow, dark pools of almost-black staring back with a blood-lust I wouldn't expect from a being such as him. I find myself intrigued with the man, so much anger, so much pain, and he doesn't know what to do with it. I have no doubts he's following orders being down in hell at all, but... Given the last interaction, it doesn't seem they were trying to kill me, not at first anyhow. Even the female angel had aimed for the stomach, not the chest or head where it'd have a chance, but this dark angel here, I can't see him with the ability for mercy, he's dead-set on my death.

Interesting, could it be he's fallen out of line?

My grin grows malicious, the burn of my irises no doubt poses as a threat, his quicker movements make it plainly evident.

Moving my gaze away from his face I allow my eyes to travel behind him. From each of his tense shoulder blades stretches a magnificent wing, just large enough to brush the ceiling above. Despite his outwardly darker appearance the large feathers gleam a glorious silver, light bouncing off the soft surface with a deep elegance. Upon closer inspection the light feathers are speckled with spots of black, small enough they could just as easily be mistaken for shadows. The edges curl inward and outward in a steady rhythm, I can't tell if the gesture is offensive or defensive, either way I find myself intrigued by the additional limbs. I'd never been able to see the wings before, not with such detail, I find myself wondering about the power bubbling up in my gut, the divine energy just hardly alive.

Regardless of the reasons I'm unable to tear my gaze away until a minute or two had passed.

Angels are such sickeningly beautiful creatures, such disgusting things. A darker part of my mind fantasizes of plucking those feathers out one by one, watching the blood spill from his back as they're cut off, I wonder if they grow back? I want to break him down, destroy the gracefulness he carries, destroy the beauty he holds, I want him broken, I want him suffering.

I take a second to relish in the sadistic thoughts before allowing them to dissipate along with the surely dark grin that had spread over my cheeks.

"Antisepticeye..."

So, he speaks, perhaps he'd noticed the lack of attention on himself, regardless I look to his face again taking note of the uneasiness underneath his otherwise cool exterior. The word comes out a snarl, a noise I'd expect to come from myself, but certainly not the holy being he claims to be. I allow his anger to grow, putting up another face of indifference, and allowing my shoulders to slouch in what I hope comes off as easing.

"Gotta say... I'm a little disappointed... First one-on-one encounter with an angel, and they send you?"

His wings twitch at the shoulder blades in something I can only describe as blood-thirst.

"Some punk, MCR wannabee?"

Another twitch. His steps become more evident, more of a stomp than the previously graceful pace.

"Is that your big plan? To hurt my precious feelings?"

He attempts to speak with a certain nonchalance, though I easily catch the sharp edge to his words. My hands raise in faux surrender, smile not wavering for a second despite my aching cheeks.

"You caught me."

I give a low chuckle.

"No, don't get me wrong... I adore the whole edgy look, I just never expected it on something like you."

He offers a mere scoff, hands curling even tighter at his sides.

"But then again..."

I stop pacing, he does the same, so we stand directly across from each other, neither of us dare to break eye contact. The words hardly echoed around the room, hanging on the air with a soft tension.

"You aren't like the others... are you?"

A slight waver in his glare and I have my answer. I allow the maliciousness to recede from my grin, though I'm sure it smothers the unnatural color within my eyes along with a gentle admiration for the creature in front of me.

"I mean, you're the first to confront me... alone of all things... how noble, how... deliciously brave."

He narrows his eyes at the praise, though I catch a small speckle of pride as it dances across his dark pupils. His grip had relaxed significantly on the weapon in his hand, I don't let my eyes linger on it, focusing on maintaining the eye contact, a small battle of wills threatening to become an all-out war.

"Let me guess, the others are still planning? Putting you on the sidelines while they do all the important work... I'll bet they don't listen to you, do they? After all, they enlisted humans before giving you a chance."

A certain darkness crosses his features at the mention of the humans. Bitter... how predictable.

"What have you been told about me?"

The quick change of tone sends a wave of confusion over his eyes, my tone coming out almost friendly with the question, genuinely curious. His wings twitch behind his back, more defensive than they had been prior. He takes a moment before responding in a low voice.

"You're trying to destroy it all, Hell, Heaven, Earth... You're destroying the fabric of this world because of this little bitch-fit you're throwing."

He looks almost pleased at my renewed these statements, and I can't stop a snarl from escaping past my lips replacing the smile that had sat there, his own quirk upward ever so slightly.

"Let me tell you... Nathan..."

His name drops from my tongue venomously.

"That's not at all what I'm trying to do... I have no desire to destroy anything... I'm merely trying to dismantle this unfair dictatorship we've lived by for so long..."

He gives a scoff, though forced it is. Pushing back a grin I feel on the edges of my lips I step forward, taking note of his instinctual need to tense up and stop. He talks of big game, yet so easily frightened, how precious...

"Think about it Nate... when's the last time you were truly free? I'm assuming heaven isn't too different than this pit."

"You know nothing about heaven, Antisepticeye..."

My feet carry me forward another couple steps, he doesn't flinch this time, I can almost physically see his resolve wilting.

"Oh, but I do... I know heaven churns out soldiers twists the human souls until they are ready and willing to die for whatever cause it sees fit. I know they are willing to punish if a single soul steps out of line, I know the only way to stay alive is to follow blindly, to take any treacherous thought and crush it to dust, to give away everything you are and become another soldier..."

His silence is yet another confirmation. I feel any desire to smile leave and agonized truth to spill from my lips in a vicious snarl as again the space between us lessens.

"I know you're sick of it all... I know you're a leader, not a follower."

"You don't know anything..."

He mutters the words, any contempt fleeing his voice. It sounds almost pathetic compared to his once proud stature. He still holds onto those morals, that trust in his own kind. I suppose it's harder to hate heaven, the place is supposed to be paradise. Turns out it's as bad as Hell.

"I know... I know because we are the same Nate... You and I are one in the same...so be it in Heaven so shall it be in Hell..."

His eyes don't leave mine, but no longer do they bear any kind of hatred, just a sad denial, one I find myself pitying. Pathetic as it is, I understand.

"We're both tired of following orders, of being pushed around, we're sick of being stepped on, hurt, made to feel worthless just because of their petty war, because they are unable to fight it themselves... Heaven doesn't care, Hell doesn't care, we're expendable to them and there's only one way to stop it all..."

I hardly noticed moving, though now I stand directly in front of the male, glittering wings retaining more majesty at this closer look, forcing myself to ignore this I study his face, watching the last bits of denial begin to fade to a soft acceptance. His lips crease into a thin line, wrinkles forming at the tops of his furrowed brows as though the words are spoken in another language entirely and he just can't quite understand.

"What are you saying...?"

"Join me, Nate. I've already started rebuilding hell, with you on my side we can move on to heaven. We can create a better universe, we can set everyone free."

A note of distrust flashes in his pupil, I find myself following it until it disappears under everything else. His hand hangs limply at his side, the blade still held firmly, though he doesn't look ready to attack, not yet anyhow.

"Why would I do that? You're out of control, you're a cold-blooded killer so why- "

"They've really got you trained, huh?"

I interrupt with a smile bordering on sympathetic, his eyes narrow in a way that suggests anger, but nothing of the sort coats his darkly lit irises. My hand reaches out as if on instinct to grip his shoulder, he flinches at the contact but makes no move to pull away, hanging intently on each word as if to discover a lie that isn't quite there.

"Make no mistake... I have no desire to hurt those who are innocent... will there be casualties? Of course, but in the end, sacrifices must be made... in the end we can create paradise, in Heaven, Hell, even on earth... it can all be perfect, we can create something... spectacular..."

His eyes move away to stare at anything else, peeking through select strands of dark hair the gentle glow of his eye's gleams with a gentle desire of all I'd just preached. My gaze wanders away from his face once more to the glittering feathers at his back, they lower gently; a form of submission I take a few seconds to relish in.

"And if I say no?"

Back to his face again, I feel my eyes narrow. That trust in his own team, his own kind... Why can't he see? They're all worthless, they're all monsters....

I allow my voice to lower, giving a shrug that's just tense enough to not be calm.

"I won't force you to do anything Nathan... if you decide to keep things how they are, I won't stop you. If you decide to end this all right now and kill me, I won't fight back... all I ask is for you to think about it, all I ask of you... do what feels right... You're your own person... don't let them take that from you."

I give him a moment, then another and only when I realize he isn't planning to attack to I move to walk past him towards the exit, allowing our shoulders to brush in a manner I hope comes off as friendly. He doesn't flinch this time.

"Think about it, Nate...."

~~~~~~~~~~Sean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk back is fairly silent, a few murmured words pass between the two angels once Emma seems able to carry more of her own weight. We walk through the twisted halls, each of them so similar it becomes almost impossible to tell how far we'd traveled at all. Thomas however moves with memorized grace, eyes straight ahead and frankly the gravest I'd seen him thus far. He looks just as pissed as everyone else about Nate's running off. I wonder if they assume him to be dead.

After all Anti would have no reason to keep him alive, Nate will be lucky if the demon makes it quick.

I can't stop thinking of the demon, how quickly he changed. At first, he'd appeared calm, calculated. He knew what he wanted and seemed ready to do whatever it may take. That was the demon that I find myself afraid of, that side of him doesn't care about anyone, maybe not even himself, but then Dark came in...

It's like someone else entirely replaced that robotic-like creature. Someone who retains some semblance of humanity. I watched him crumble, fall into Dark's arms as if it were instinct. He looked remorseful, miserable, yet so happy all at once. Yet, just as fast he reverted back to the one who should be feared.

He was ready to kill Dark... again... it was as if nothing happened at all. Like he hadn't broken, like he hadn't shown his true feelings. Then the mention of his father... I wonder if he remembers him, something akin to recognition crossed his features, I saw it, something close to hostility followed.

He's becoming unstable... Whether it be because of the newfound power, or merely the mental toll this whole experience has taken on him. He was never sane, at least not the demon I'd met, but this... This is beyond anything. He's falling apart, and it seems he'll take everything down with him. What'll crumble first... What's left of his mind, or the rest of Heaven and Hell...

I sigh, resorting to watching the dust come up beneath my feet.

Maybe there's no helping it. Maybe this was all a mistake. I don't care for myself, I didn't try hard enough to stop Anti, this is my responsibility... but Mark...

I feel my eyes move to the man walking silently by my side. I dragged him into this, all of this... If I hadn't met him at that damned institution, if I'd just kept my mouth shut, let him do his job instead of....

Maybe he'd be living a normal life, maybe he'd have a family, a good job... Or maybe Dark would have gotten to him anyhow, but at least then I wouldn't feel so damn awful about this.

But then... I'd have died in that place... I'd have driven myself insane and... I wouldn't have felt any of the happiness Mark had brought. The contagious nature of his large smile, the warmth of his chocolatey eyes, the smooth calm of his voice. Maybe this is all worth it, maybe after this is all over we can be happy.

I wish the thought didn't sound so apathetic...

Only at the halted footsteps ahead of me do I come back to the situation at hand. I recognize the doorway simply by the candlelight seeping outward, however this time it doesn't feel quite as comforting. It's a warning, and the paling faces of the angels ahead of me don't help ease that feeling.

Thomas's eyes go wide as saucers, skin taking on a complexion that could even rival my own. Emma holds herself up as much as possible, jaw dropping with a certain abhorrence. She looks ready to collapse yet again...

Even Dark looks rather revolted. I find myself following them inside despite my own instincts screaming not to. The sight, the smell, everything.... My stomach violently churns.

Red. It's everywhere... puddling on the stone floor, splattered haphazardly over the walls, even more than a few droplets lie scattered across the high ceiling.

If it weren't for the occasional scrap of clothing, or mangled limb, I'd doubt there had been people within the room at all. There aren't any bodies, not fully anyhow, there's nothing left... Torn apart as if by some wild animal.

I step lightly, feeling the strained muscles of my eyelids stretched wide enough to burn. I can hear the thumping of my chest, and somehow that only makes the situation worse, all this red, it once belonged to living, breathing creatures. A dry heave catches my throat, cutting off air and, if even for a moment, I panic.

Turning away from the scene I run into a large chest, warmth engulfs my form along with the familiar, toned arms. I don't need to see Mark's face, the trembling of his body is enough, I bury my face in the fabric of his t-shirt forcing my breathing to even out. Eventually I feel Mark's panting breaths follow suit.

"Nate..."

Emma's soft voice pipes up, the single word is spoken with such uncertainty, such quiet fear, I feel the need to turn around. Taking a moment, I pull myself just far enough away, so I can turn my head. Forcing my eyes past the sickening image of crimson I follow the female's wide eyes to the darkly-dressed male, he stands towards the center of the room, I'm not sure how I'd missed him at first.

At his feet a body lies, oddly enough in almost one piece. Upon closer inspection I recognize the large curly hair. Danny, the angel Dark had gotten into it with. His eyes fall open staring blankly upward, almost looking to place guilt upon the angel who stands above him. His face is pale, bloodless, large gashes litter his chest. From what creature is unclear, though the tear running from throat to chest makes it obvious what the cause of death was.

I force my eyes away as bile threatens my throat, instead focusing on the dark, inky eyes of Nate as he stares at the group. He doesn't appear as appalled as the rest of us, in fact he appears lethargic.

"What happened...?"

Thomas speaks up this time, staring accusingly at his comrade. He had pulled himself together within moments. Nate's hand closes around the blade in his hand, it looks as if it's tinted red, but almost as soon as I see it, it's gone. He steps forward with a certain care, avoiding the larger puddles of red, and the occasional entrails. A flicker of disgust crosses his face in a small sneer.

"Hellhounds it looks like... I don't think any of them made it out..."

His voice is quiet, gruff as always, with a tinge of something I can't quite place. I find myself focusing on that instead of the heated smell around the small room. Dark steps past the group, his eyes flick to the intact corpse behind Nate, to the puddles of innards, to the splatters on the walls, and finally travel up to the Angel in the middle of it all with more than plain hatred.

Dark looks positively repulsed, sympathetic even for the fate met by the group. He doesn't care for such creatures, he's made that very clear but this... This is just awful. I'm reminded of the look he got when met with the corpse of the other demon in the hall, his features take a similar compassion.

"What about Antisepticeye...? I thought you were going after him...?"

The raven-haired demon speaks up, blame coating his words with a thick loathing. Nate meets his gaze with an even stare, eyebrows furrowing as he takes notice of the lack of chains on the demon's wrist.

"I was... I couldn't find him."

Little to no hesitation with the response, his stare doesn't waver nor does the grip on his weapon I find myself focusing on. Dark steps forward, weaving through the mess professionally, eyes never once lowering.

His face is no longer visible to us as he stands face to face with the other male. Though from the way his shoulders tense, back straightens, and fists clench it's clear he's a breath away from losing it. His jaw moves, quiet words passing his lips that I strain and fail to hear.

Nate's stature changes drastically at whatever the demon had said. Confident posture falls to a warrior's stance, calm features turn wild like a beast who has been cornered. But just as fast as it happened he falls back to the cocky, confident, self-righteous being we've all come to know.

"Back off... You don't know what you're talking about..."

Nate almost snarls the words, teeth bared in a warning as he shoves past the demon. He walks through the room, this time hardly paying mind to the mess of the ground beneath his shoes. Once at the door he only glances at his comrades before making his way out into the hall. Thomas soon follows suit Emma still leaning against his arm.

Dark doesn't move, eyes following the angels out of the room and continuing to stare even long after they'd left his line of vision.

I hesitate as Mark tugs on my arm, I can feel his eyes dart to me occasionally though no doubt focusing on the room itself. Finally, I cave and follow him out, soon hearing the soft thud of steps behind us.