Muse began to wonder if she was going to be constantly at Isaac's side. It was beginning to really feel like she was on a leash. Isaac had taken them to a large unfinished office building, and the wind whipped bitterly through the third floor. Nothing existed of the structure but the floors and row after row of iron girders in neat, square patterns. Piles of construction equipment lay scattered around - stacks of iron rebar, copper pipe, big pink rolls of what Muse could only guess was insulation of some kind. White plastic sheeting blew in the breeze next to her, curling around an iron beam as it slipped loose of its mooring.

Caution tape was tied to every beam and around the edges of the building, and a small yellow strip of tape was tied to segments of iron rebar which were protruding up from the floor along the soon-to-be-wall, sticking up a few feet like a half-finished cage. The yellow tape blew in the wind to one side like streamers - looking like some bizarre holiday decoration.

She was once again hovered over Isaac's left shoulder, peering down at him as he flipped through a book. The wooden box that he had retrieved from the graveyard sat on a large spool of wire next to him. Muse had long since given up trying to read the book - it was just gibberish and random scribbles to her. Raphael lay in the middle of the ground in the center of a large circle covered in jagged lines and weird writing. She had no idea what it was designed to do, but she imagined it wasn't friendly.

Raphael was tied, her arms behind her back. She was gagged - Victor's idea - but that didn't stop her from lying there making terrified, muffled sobbing noises.

“Muse,” Isaac said, too soft to be heard by the other men who stood slightly scattered throughout the building, waiting in the shadows. They knew they were going to have company, it was only a matter of time.

“Mm?”

“Whatever happens, stay by my side. Do not wander off.” Isaac glanced up from the book to look where she was hovering. The look on his face was serious - his grey eyes somehow focused on her despite the fact she had no visible form.

“Excuse me...?”

“Stay by my side. Do you understand?” he repeated firmly.

“Yeah?” Muse said nervously. She didn't like how he said it. Even when he ordered her around, it never seemed that... important. Something seemed absolutely dire about staying at his side this time.

“Good.”

Isaac shut his eyes, then shut the book. He placed it down on the spool next to him and reached for the small wooden box. Opening it, he pulled out a long white feather. It looked like nothing Muse had ever seen before. It not only seemed to glow with its own light but seemed almost a step outside of reality. It had an almost opalescent sheen to it, reflecting the light like it was metallic or - something else, she didn't know. She had a sudden urge to touch it - but never had the chance. Isaac looked at it and twirled it between his fingers as he observed it with an almost removed fascination. Then, he began to talk.

Muse felt a shudder crawl through her being as she heard the words. She couldn’t grasp onto them, couldn't hold them in her mind. She knew he was talking, but she couldn't actually hear the words. The more she tried to listen, the dizzier she got. Something about them actually almost made her feel ill - which she knew was impossible. You can't be nauseous when you're dead. She felt the power pour off of him, sending a shiver through her.

The circle around Raphael, drawn in simple chalk, suddenly flared white with a sharp hiss. The circle grew brighter and began to twist to one side. Muse shook her head. She had to be seeing things. No, sure enough - the circle was moving. Or was she?

She watched as the space underneath Raphael... disappeared. Simply vanished into nothing. The concrete became like glass or obsidian. Muse couldn't see the floor below, only a reflective black void. Muse stared at it in fascination as the writing slowly dimmed to a mild glow. Raphael was now howling loudly into the gag, kicking fiercely. Her foot hit the edge of the circle and her eyes went wide. Her body thrashed in pain as she screamed louder. Slowly she curled into a ball and sobbed uncontrollably.

Isaac held up the feather and let go. It drifted from his hands as if taken by the stiff breeze. The feather flew into the circle and touched down on the ground next to the girl.

All at once - in a single instant - there was a figure crouched on the ground near the young Crusader. It felt like a fever dream. She had to stop and really think about whether she was conscious or not. She had to be asleep - but no, she didn’t dream. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't figure out when the person, or whatever it was, actually appeared. It simply blinked into existence. One second there was no one, the next it was there. With vampires, as far as she could tell, there was always at least a bit of warning, some feeling of movement. This thing just... popped into being. She looked at it, and if she had a stomach she would have retched. Not because of how it looked. It just felt different. It felt wrong. It felt very wrong.

It appeared male... but at the same time, it didn’t appear like anything at all. As the figure slowly stood up, Muse couldn’t look away. It looked male in the same way that a Ken doll did. Short light-brown hair fell to its chin in picture-perfect curls. That was the problem with it, why it looked unnatural, Muse decided - it was too perfect. Absolutely flawless in the same way a marble carving is perfect. Inhumanly free of flaws, and because of that, its very appearance felt cold and detached. As she gaped, the male figure brushed his hands down its bare chest, and a set of clothes appeared. A simple black button-down shirt and grey pants. Muse continued to gawk, glad it couldn't see her.

It looked at Isaac with no expression, no emotion. “Ostheim," the 'man' spoke. His voice was human... mostly. Muse figured again that if a marble statue could open its mouth and speak, it would sound like that.

“Sariel,” Isaac responded, then clasped his hands behind his back. The sorcerer watched the man in the center with nothing but confidence. Muse had no idea how Isaac could do that - look at something that was clearly inhuman and act like he was ordering coffee.

“You summoned me.” Sariel turned his head downwards and looked at Raphael. The girl was still curled into the fetal position, sobbing. He looked upwards with the first sign of emotion. Incredulousness. One eyebrow arched as he looked back up at Isaac. “What is this?”

“A gift. To you and your masters," Isaac replied with the slightest bow to his head.

“A living girl. What use do we have for her? Why would we care about such a thing?" Sariel looked down at Raphael and then back up at Isaac. He sighed softly. "What is the purpose to this, human?"

“Simply a gift.”

“What do you expect us to do with her?" Sariel asked thoughtfully, nudging Raphael with his foot, rolling her onto her back. The girl looked up at the strange figure and began to scream again through the gag. Sariel let out a deep sigh. Muse found herself unable to think about what she was witnessing like she was watching a movie she couldn't interact with. "You wish us to remove her from your world," Sariel said dryly.

“Yes. You take her to your plane, and we both benefit."

“One soul amongst many is nothing to us, Ostheim.” Sariel shrugged dismissively. "You overestimate her value. We have plenty of souls, and those that we have are meaningless to us. Why do we care? She is worthless."

“She is one of the Crusaders. She was created by the Vatican. They have sent many of your own kind back to their respective planes.”

“I see," Sariel said quietly. He stood there motionless - perfectly motionless - for quite some time, his head tilted to one side as if in thought. “Then perhaps I will accept your offer. Perhaps at least she will prove to be amusing.”

Isaac smiled thinly. He opened his mouth to speak as a loud crash resounded from behind him. He turned to see Mal skidding to a stop on the ground surrounded by rolling copper pipes. The pipes cascaded over each other and across the concrete, dinging out an atonal tune as they toppled. The big man was frantically whacking at a white flame that had caught his chest on fire. Uriel stood by an iron girder, both guns pointed at Mal.

“Damnit!” Isaac growled. Muse saw a dim blue glow dart from one column to another, bee-lining straight for Isaac. Muse reacted quickly, moved and formed in front of Azrael, checking her body into its. The force of the impact sent the Crusader crashing into an iron beam with a thud, landing in a pile of debris. Azrael slowly stood up from the rubble and glowered at Muse. Or, at least, she imagined it was. She couldn't tell with the white mask and only blackness for eyes. Shrugging, she grinned and waved.

“Hi jerkwad.” Muse vanished and hurtled at Azrael at the same time it flew at her - the impact knocked them both to the ground. Muse reacted quicker and threw Azrael into the wall again. She turned in time to see the ‘man’ Sariel lean over and pick up Raphael by the upper arm, holding her next to him as he straightened up again.

“Raphael!” Uriel screamed and ran forward, firing his guns at the man in the circle. There seemed to be some kind of shield surrounding it - the bullets impacted the force and disappeared in a crackle of white light. Uriel skid to a halt and locked eyes with the unnatural thing that had his compatriot. Fear and horror crossed Uriel's features at the sight of the figure within the circle.

"Hello, mortal," Sariel smiled - it wasn't exactly a pleasant smile. Uriel seemed unable to move. "You are right to fear me. I wonder, will you appreciate watching all of them die around you?"

Isaac seemed to have had enough. He stepped forward and gripped hold of Uriel, lurching him around to face him. Isaac planted his hand in the middle of his chest. Uriel screamed, dropping his revolvers with a loud clatter as they impacted the stone floor. He tried to pull away from Isaac, but the sorcerer grabbed the neck of his chain-mail tunic - keeping his other hand firmly pressed onto Uriel's chest as smoke curled up from the metal that started to glow orange with the heat.

“You have annoyed me for the last time," Isaac snarled at the older man. Uriel continued to scream, his hands wrapped around Isaac's arms as he tried to pull the other man off of him, but to no avail. Sariel watched the exchange with the same strange detachment as the statues he resembled.

Muse still really hated statues.

Muse snapped back to reality just in time to see Azrael hurtling through the air at the sorcerer. “Isaac!” Muse yelled and dashed. Dropping her physical form and moving faster than a human could, she rushed straight at Isaac. She knew she didn't have enough time to make it across the room to Azrael, so did the next best thing she could. Muse formed at the last second and tackled Isaac, body checking him out of the way at the same moment that Azrael flew through the air where Isaac had been a second prior. Azrael reappeared as its knife dug into the field that separated Sariel and Raphael from the rest of them. The Crusader thrashed violently. He made no sound as he collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Isaac landed on his back hard and glared at Muse angrily. “I told you to not leave my side!”

“But... but I... he was going to...” Muse stammered uselessly.

“Get off!” Isaac snarled and threw Muse off of him and directly into the field around the glowing circle.

Muse screamed.

Eeeheheheheheeehehee...

“Huhn?!” Muse sat up, her eyes opening quickly. “Shit! What was that?!”

Hallohallo why hallo there!

“What the…?!” Muse stood up and looked around - and found herself... nowhere. She stood in a black void. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. She could see the ground beneath her only as far out as five or six feet. The ground shone like a polished mirror, reflecting back the darkness. It was like everything around her had ceased to exist - it reminded her of the videos she had seen of the depths of the ocean where no light reached.

HIYA!

“What… Hello?!”

HALLOTHERE!

“...Ezekiel?”

nOPE. Wrong! Close, I guess, maybefinesure, but, NOPE.

“What the hell is going on?!” Muse slowly turned around in a circle. Suddenly she wished she hadn't. She found herself staring at a gigantic set of grinning teeth in front of her face. The teeth were bright orange, pointed, flickering and glowing like the teeth of a jack-o-lantern.

I CAN SEE YOU NOW.

The teeth opened and began to swallow Muse whole.

Muse screamed.

“Whoa! Down girl!” Victor yelled and jumped back a bit. He was kneeling next to her, sitting back on his ankles. He put one hand on his knee and with the other, he reached forward and tousled her hair where she lay. “Calm down, Muse.. calm down. You're fine.”

“What the hell just happened?!” Muse looked up at the concerned faces of Victor and Mal. She felt weird - out of touch - like she wasn't completely in the moment. She felt almost like she was behind a pane of glass. It was like what a few of the drugs she had used were like when she was alive, but that couldn't be possible now.

“You got knocked out... You hit the edge of the circle... you hit the ground unconscious. We couldn’t wake you up, you’ve been out for about two minutes... Are you okay?”

“Y- yeah... I... I’m okay.” Muse sat up slowly and ran her hands through her hair. “That... stung.”

Victor helped Muse to her feet, steadying her. She held onto his arm with one hand, watching the room around her spin just slightly. She made a face and shut her eyes, trying to force whatever was clogging her head to go away. You shouldn't be able to feel ill when you didn't have a stomach to empty. Victor spoke up reluctantly. “Hate to rush you, girl, but we’re in a hurry to get back.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Well, Raphael got taken away by that weird guy in the circle. They both just vanished... The rest of them ran off. We’re leaving like, now.” Victor sighed. "That guy was... that guy was just not right." He shrugged it off and started with the others towards the door.

Muse started walking and staggered. Victor wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her to him, helping her walk. "Sorry... my feet aren't working right now..." If she disappeared, she was afraid she still couldn't move.

“S’okay, kiddo," Mal said from her other side.

“I really don't feel right...”

“Just hold on 'till we get home.”

The familiar silhouette of the long coat cut out against the dim light of the basement like an ink blot was unmistakable. Michael snarled and glared a hole at him. He willed the man to die, but to no luck. If you could drop someone with sheer hate, he should have been able to do it by now. "Isaac. What did you do to Raphael?!” he demanded angrily.

“Raphael is in Hell,” Isaac replied, stepping forward more into the light, a thin smile on the man's sharp features. The look of amusement and pride that ran across his features sickened the Crusader.

“You lie!” Michael roared, yanking at his chains hard, trying to loosen the restraints and snap free. "You're a liar!" His voice cracked slightly, betraying his nervousness. He cursed himself for showing his fear.

“Hardly." Isaac smiled a little warmer and stepped up, just outside of the range of Michael's kick. "Your your little pet healer is no longer at your disposal. Which means, Michael, you can now die.” Isaac leaned over slightly, folding his arms behind his back. "If I were to slit your throat, you would die."

"Why would you do that to her?!"

"She was inconvenient."

"You sent someone to Hell because they were an inconvenience?!" The idea defied all his concepts of logic. The sorcerer had done something so horrid because she was an annoyance. Ostheim had sunk to a new level of depravity.

"Yes."

Michael stared up at the sorcerer, lost. The man had ceased to be human. He was the devil on earth. “Kill me, I will go to the gates of Heaven where I deserve to be,” Michael snarled bitterly, hoping the sudden welling of fear in his throat didn't show on his face.

“Mmm... We shall see. You deprived me of that which I desire most - so I think I will let you die last.” Isaac said thoughtfully, straightening up and turning his back. Michael could only watch, struggling helplessly as Isaac walked up the stairs. "Muse, resume your post." The door shut behind the sorcerer, leaving Michael alone. Or at least, alone under appearances. He knew that Muse was around here somewhere. So for now, his only course of action was to wait and pray.

Gabriel was happiest in the trenches. The ‘Messenger’ tended to get bored, especially since the Retribution had come to a so-called end. But like any good war, it was done in the public’s eye long before the fighting ever actually finished. His squadron was moving through the Ural mountains, hunting a band of werewolves. The creatures had taken to the woods, refusing to fight them in the open. Typical behavior for their kind.

Gabriel stood, shifting the large rifle that was strapped to his back. He brushed some snow out of his short blonde hair, tired of the constant and incessant snow.

“Shit for weather up here,” said the head of the squadron, a young man by the name of John. He was a good soldier if a bit jumpy. A werewolf had knocked over their Humvee, and the man had been reduced to stutters.

“Seriously,” he replied. He shifted his weight, kneeling down next to a tree. He squinted his eyes, looking through the darkness and the snow. The constant grey wet pelting made it hard to see any movement in the distance. But he thought he saw something.

John at least knew what his sudden silence meant. With a sharp motion of his hand, Gabriel heard the rest of the men fall into position. He cursed how loud they were. Slinging the rifle from his shoulder, he flicked down the stand attached to the barrel and set it down. Peering through the scope, he caught sight of a flash of black fur.

Squeezing the trigger, he heard his bullet hit its mark. One of the monsters howled in pain then collapsing in the snow, dead. He had made the shot from two hundred yards. Too easy.

Gabriel hefted the gun onto his back and let out a sharp whistle. If there was one thing he hated more than standing in snow, it was running in it. Jumping over stumps and rocks, he ducked around another tree, slipping his gun off of his shoulder. This time, not even bothering to brace it on anything, he squeezed the trigger again. Another wolf fell dead.

“Sir! Look out!”

Gabriel managed not to yell as a werewolf leaped over the rock next to him and tackled him. His rifle slid into the snow next to him. Staring up at the slathering jaws of the gigantic creature, he pulled a silver, gold inlaid shining pistol out of his belt and pressed the end of it between the thing’s eyes. “Go to God.”

Pushing the pile of dead fur off of him, he let out a small huff. The creature was easily five hundred pounds - and it was a small one. He saw that his squadron was dealing with more of the same. One of his men lay dead in the snow next to him, his neck torn open by a large set of claws. The grey snow was starting to turn red. Some of it was his men’s, but most belonged to the monsters.

Pulling his other matching pistol out of his belt, he started to fire. He was trained to be precise and wasted no bullets. One bullet each, into the brain. Anywhere else was useless on these things, even with the blessings that were placed on his ammunition. They could take entire rounds to the chest without flinching.

His calm focus was suddenly broken. Someone was standing next to him.

He had to be hallucinating. He was supposed to be in America. Michael was hunting him. There was no way this man was standing here, now. And, yet, here he was.

“Hello, Gabriel. It’s been so long. How are you?”

Gabriel opened his mouth, stammered something out. He pointed both pistols at they grey apparition, aiming straight to the chest. Suddenly the wolves and the screams of his men seemed considerably less important.

“Good, I see. Now, I-“

Gabriel interrupted him by pulling the triggers. Isaac responded simply by raising his hand. Suddenly Gabriel felt something hit him in the chest. Blinking, he turned his head down and saw two holes going through his white tunic. Slowly, they started to ooze red. That confused him. It couldn’t be. This all was just quite simply not happening.

Isaac sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose with the shove of a ring finger. “You simply had to go and cut this short, didn’t you? You were always the hasty one.”

Gabriel sunk to his knees. The snow felt a lot colder than it had before.

He really hated snow.