From the storm raging outside the monastery's walls, you would never hear the soft pad of a small barefooted figure. This person trusted this, and smirked from their position. The thunder magnified by the centuries old stone flew through the maze of halls and corridors until it ended in the center of the building. And rolled around the still room The cathedral.

Candles filled every holder in the hopes of better light in dreary weather. The brilliant shining gave the swooping room a more spectral feel than it had already achieved. Yet, one has not said what made it this way… Mother Mary loomed ominously behind the altar. She by far towered it, and anything else in the room for that matter. She held her baby in one arm, while the other was drawn out, reaching for the sky above. The virgin and Jesus both had crowns of candleholder stars above their brows, making them look godly in the atmosphere. Her face pointed down, to the empty ground, while the Baby's looked up. His shining eyes were answered with twelve others. The disciples were painted on the ceiling, and to remain that way for all of time. Star's ringed them, and bird's held up the cloth's they were adorned with.

Ornate wooden carvings of scenes from the Bible filled up the walls. Everything from the beginning of time with Adam and Eve with the snake and apple, to the Birth of the Virgin's child, and even to John's vision of heaven were depicted here.

From behind Mary crept the culprit; a skinny boy under his much too long black monk habit. He wiped a drop of holy wine off of his face, and crept down the small set of stairs to the spot he was supposed to be. Under Mary's gaze was this place and it was there he was to stay for 3 hours. He had stayed there for the past 2 hours and 56 minutes, but grew bored and decided to indulge in that sacred wine in the back. He positioned himself, hoped his breath didn't smell as strong as the stuff had tasted, and waited for the familiar stomp of the Eldest Monk to come let him off.

A mirror sat propped-up in front of him, with the 10 commandment's sketched with fine print into the glass. His reflection looked back at him, and tipped its head to the side for better inspection. The lithe face to go with the rest of the body blinked its large light-green eyes. Soft lips pursed as he brushed a hand through long bangs. Unlike all of the other Monks, he refused to shave his head. To lose his shoulder-blade length brown hair would kill him. He usually kept it up in a high pony-tail to please the older monks, and the younger one's told him that he looked like a rock star so it pleased them.

He turned his eyes down to his lap, and said to himself a silent prayer for god to forgive his actions of stealing the wine. He was thirsty. That would have to do for now. Right as he finished a wave of dizziness and pain ran through his head. Leaning foreword, his hands met his temples and pressed hard. "Brother Nathaniel, what plight has befallen thou?" The boy sat up, trying to ignore the sharp sting in his head. He answered, but his voice gave away his pain. "Sir… It's just my-AH! Ah… Head…Sir…" The elder frowned and took the few steps foreword to meet the boy. "Go rest, child. I know 'tis hard work, trying to do as well as thee does." Nathaniel gingerly sat up, prayed another prayer to God to let God know how good the soul was of the person who had let him off. He then proceeded to fall to the hard stone ground, panting from another shock of swirling pain.

Nathaniel stumbled down the hallways, his vision blurring and his eyes watering every time he called out for God to help. Finally, he pushed his door open and tumbled onto the cold wooden floor of the only bedroom he had ever had.

Black eyes with hints of red looked sharply to the left without the rest of the head. Barely shoulder length strands of red mingled with the dominating black that was his hair. The man looked about 25 or so, and firm muscles made up his mature form. His smirk was a ladies joy and his walk was an invitation to come say hello and then get in his bed that night so you could have wild sex with him. It wasn't a strange thing for that to happen anyway in his case. Right now wasn't a night for that though. He wasn't smirking at the time either. "LUCIFER!" His voice rang out into an empty banquet hall. Well, all empty except one figure. The thing was encased in a long black cloak, and dropped a mutilated bleeding body to the ground. "Would it hurt for you to call me 'father' for once, boy?" A voice that sounded like a million asked tonelessly. "We're not even related, bastard. You know of what god has said, do you not?" The man answered quickly, clenching his fist in the full force of the moment.

"God… has chosen a new human to become an angel. It has been 1,000 years since the last one…" Lucifer answered. " Exactly! This is our chance to get back at heaven and it's bloody angels! We can steal the new angel, and mold it to our will! God will be torn!" There was a silence, finally broken by a wracking sob from the body sprawled on the smooth floor, slick with it's own blood. A shadowy hand crept from under a fold in the black mass and shot into the body, coming back up with a few sputters from the creature. A heart slid across the floor. "Do you think you can defeat God? That you can get away with this, without God somehow winning? I laugh at your ignorance, Ambrose."

"Watch me, 'Father'!" A sarcastic tone answer, already from down the hallway. The room held silence once again.

That had been earlier that day by many standards. Ambrose had already tracked the soon-to-be angel down and was waiting inside the boy's room. The dark magic spell he had set up should have begun to kick in around the time the storm had started. Any call the boy would make to God would make the newborn demon Ambrose had possessed him with gain more control over the child. Ambrose wiped at his tight shirt and long baggy pants of earthen style. He wouldn't want to stand out more than he would already if he was caught in his normal guise.

The door slammed open, and a brunette fell to the ground in front of Ambrose. The man raised an eyebrow in interest and waited. The boy's body shook once, then small black wings flowed out from between his locks. Larger wings tore open the fabric of the habit the child was wearing, and as he stood, the long thing fell to the ground. Now, all that stood there was a boy with long black shorts, stopping at the middle of his calves, with wings coming from his back and head. A new look for him, decided Ambrose as he took a few steps back, to admire his work.

"Who…?" Was the question the boy asked before the demon completely took over. His wings spread out, and the demon glared. It opened it's mouth barely, and walked up to Ambrose, beckoning him to lean over, so as they would be about the same height. Fangs glistened as he tipped his head along side a vein in Ambrose's neck. "Do you think I'll let you do that, so easily?" Ambrose whispered into the demon child's ear. "M-master?" The creature shot back, away from Ambrose. "Yes, you're right. You wouldn't be alive without me. Go to sleep." He pulled the demon close and kissed its forehead, feeling it go limp in his arms.

Wings curled in, and feathers dropped to the ground as the both of the males disappeared from the dark room.

In heaven, angel's crowded together, waiting for news from a messenger. Here it came, wings bristling as it called out what was to be said about the new angel. "The Pre, or new angel for those who don't know, destined to join us in several years, has been kidnapped by hell. We have reason to believe that the devil that did it was Ambrose, one of the devil's adopted offspring." Several gasps came from the crowd, Ambrose had a history of terrible deeds.

"What can we do?" One timid looking female asked the messenger. "There isn't much

except wait right now. Dos might go and plead a few times, with a shield around him… but that is only if we know for sure where the Pre is." He answered. "There really is nothing we can do?" Another angel pleaded. "Not right at the moment. Now, please, get out of my way." The crowd slowly moved off, but the question still remained for many. What would be done?

Light green eyes opened and scoped the dark room around them. Nathaniel sat up, separating from some kind of soft fabric. His hands met his face, as he groaned and tried to remember what happened. It all came back to him, the intense pain in his head, how it seemed to take forever to get to his room, falling, then standing up, feeling dizzy, and seeing a man in front of him before blacking out. But, where was he now? Fingers parted to allow sight, and his eyes took to the darkness. It was well-furnished room, though the style looked very old. Curtains surround the bedposts of the large bed he lay in. Everything in the room was black, from the walls, to the floor. The only light was from a small crack in the windows. A slim, white light.

Nathaniel lay back, expecting to feel more of the black sheets, when he hit something harder, and warmer. Arms wrapped around his chest, and lips met the back of his neck. "Shhh…" A voice said as Nathaniel yelped. "There isn't anything you can do anyway "A chill ran up the boy's spine as the person holding him turned him around and forced his mouth to the boy's lips. Nathaniel felt a tongue force it's way into his mouth and take in every part of him. The two separated slowly. Nathaniel coughed and tried to crawl away. It was then that he realized he was naked and had something sticking out of his back. From a quick look behind him, he could make out a star-like metal shape, blending into his back. In the center, there was a chain. "Damn!" He was tugged back by this into the other person. "Oh, look at this, the new little angel cursed! I am surprised god would allow that." "Let me go! Now!" Nathaniel yelled back, and struggled from the grip. "No. I will not. We just started, we might as well finish, hmm?" The man licked Nathaniel's mouth, before forcing him onto the bed.

The child squirmed as his chest was assaulted with kisses and small bites. Nathaniel moaned as attention was moved to his left nipple. The person stopped, and still holding down the brunette's hands sat up. "God, you taste so good. You're responsive also. I could get used to this." "S-stop!" The boy answered. "Not anytime soon. Now, before we get any further, let's trade names. I am Ambrose. You are my slave from this point until I say otherwise. Let's hear your name." " Never!" Ambrose contemplated this answer and smirked at his decided punishment. "Well, if you do not want to tell me, then I will force it out of you."

Nathaniel gasped as he felt a hand wrap around his groin, already partially aroused. "N-no!" He said, before Ambrose began to pump and toy with it. Nathaniel gasped and whimpered but refused to give in. "That noise is wonderful." Ambrose said after a pause. "I would like to hear is again." Ambrose began again, and before long, the boy gave up. " Nathaniel! It's Nathaniel! " "Nathaniel, huh? That's too long for my liking. Forget that name, I am going to call you 'Nat' from now on." Nathaniel growled and tried to pull his hands loose. "Who says you can call me that name? Who says you can do anything to me?" Ambrose's hand reached up and covered the boy's mouth. "I already told you that you are my slave. You don't have a choice."

Ambrose watched tears drop down the boys face. "Give up. If anything, that will not stop me." Nat turned his head down and, he shook with sobs. Ambrose pulled the hand away and leaned foreword to lick a tear off the boy's face. "That's just making me want to have you more, you know…" He backed away and the boy fell back onto the bed in defeat. "Now…Why are you positioning yourself for me?" Ambrose asked Nat. "What position?" Nat asked before realizing what he had done. Ambrose smirked and kissed Nat's stomach. He lingered for a moment in the boy's navel before going down even farther.

All the while Nat was gasping at each touch. He didn't want to, but it was involuntary. When Ambrose's mouth made it's way to the boy's arousal, a moan escaped the boy's lips. Ambrose's tongue flicked the tip, then he placed his mouth over the whole. Nat's hands gripped at the bed, trying not to scream from the sudden strange new attention. It felt so good, and Nat forgot he was even being raped in the loss of the moment. Tears welled up in his eyes as Ambrose parted. Panting and sobbing, Nat sat up and moved his now free hands back to his face. He leaned forward, and pulled the front of his thighs up to his chest.

"That wasn’t so bad now, was it?" Ambrose asked, suddenly behind Nat. The boy looked up and his head turned around, a shocked look splattered across his features. "…Y… yes it was! Get away from me you bastard!" Nat snatched at some of the sheets, pulled them over himself, and stumbled off of the bed. His legs failed him, and he tumbled onto the floor. "You're still weak from earlier. You won't get too far. Also, you're chained up. My little pet, the only place you can go is back to me."

Nat only pulled the sheet over himself, covering his head, so that all you could see of his was his down turned, shadowed face. Ambrose got off the bed, and lifted the boy up, kissing him as he sat him back onto the bed. "Don't argue." Nat sighed and pulled the covers around himself tighter. "Fine, you sit like that for as long as you can." A hand touched the side of Nat's face, then was gone.

Nat looked up at a noise of fabric falling. Ambrose stepped out of his pants and made his way back to the bed. There was a moment of silence, while Nat and Ambrose only stared at each other. "Let us continue." Ambrose stated, then he worked the covers out of Nat's grip. Now both of them were naked, sitting on the bed.

"Why are you doing this?" Asked Nat finally. "It's not for your sex, that's for sure." Came the answer. "I'm doing this to piss off god, little angel boy. You're an apple in his eye, and I'm going to take a bite out of you." Nat's eyebrows forked together. "What are you talking about? Are you insane?" "No. You might be though. It's all part of my plan. God will have to beg for you back, and when he gets you, you're be beyond his help." Nat's hands moved together. "You… you're going to kill me aren't you…" "No. You're the essential hostage. Besides, I'm having too much fun with you to kill you anyway."

Nat blushed and looked away. "I hate you." "You can hate me all you want. You can't stop me from getting what I want." Ambrose pushed the boy into the bed and lay on top of him. "You're heavy!" Nat cried out. "Like I said. Nothing you can do. You can't fight back at all." His lips met Nat's and he once again forced his tongue. When Nat felt he was going to die from lack of breath, Ambrose parted and flipped the boy over. Nat's eyes were shut tightly, and could only feel two hands pull his smooth thighs up over the muscular legs.

It all happened before Nat could contemplate it all. At first he couldn't believe. It took him a moment to take in what Ambrose said at the beginning. "Sorry. I don't keep lube on me, so, you're going to have to get used to this." Then a horrible pain swept through Nat. He arched back, moaning. Waiting arms wrapped around his back, and his own arms found their way to Ambrose's chest. Both fists were clenched to try to take away from the feeling.

Ambrose was enjoying himself in spite of the contracting and moving. He pressed into Nat, the sensation only making him want to work himself farther. Nat screamed when Ambrose let go into him, but after that, he was silent. Ambrose frowned at the lack of reaction and wrapped one of his hands around Nat. Nat's eyes flew open as Ambrose fingered along him, tracing different parts, massaging and pinching. "No…no…please….stop…no no no no…" Nat wimpered.

"You had enough?" Ambrose asked softly. "Please… this is… too much for me… oh please… I beg you please!…" Ambrose pulled out, frowning at how very little the child could take. Nat only lay there, tears pouring down the sides of his face onto the covers. Ambrose moved to higher up on the bed, pulled a sheet over himself, and watched.

Nat stopped crying after a while, his breath slowed, and finally his eyes shut. He finally found sleep, even in that place and time. A long day had worn him out, tearing at his mind and tired body. Ambrose tenderly pulled the boy up and under the covers. He placed one of his arms over Nat, and felt the sleeping child press into him. Ambrose smiled a rare true smile then went to sleep himself. His mission was going as planned.