Pyriel awoke feeling confused and disorientated.

Oh man. I don’t feel so good, she thought as she experienced pain for the first time in her existence. With her head pounding as if an angry goblin was trying to escape from it and her throat feeling like it had been sliced open by razor blades, she quickly concluded that she didn’t like pain one bit. The steady beating of her heart in her chest also felt alien. As did the faint sound of blood pumping through her body in her ears. Lifting her arm gingerly, she discovered a transparent pipe emerging from what she knew to be a bandage. The pipe led to a plastic sack attached to a chrome stand. Recalling seeing patients walk about with similar contraptions she guessed it was what nurses referred to as a drip. Out of the corner of her eye, she could make out several machines. Screens displayed various changing numbers in different colours. Gingerly, with her fingertips, she followed a thick, rippled pipe that led to, and disappeared into her throat. She tugged at it gently. An excruciating pain jolted through her body which made her gasp.

OK, first things first. Let’s heal this body, she decided, I’m not liking this new pain experience. Nor do I like to be attached to machines. She concentrated hard for several seconds. Nothing. She felt no different. Damn, why won’t it work? Her attempt to move was greeted with another stabbing pain shooting through her body. Yauch, Ok, note to self, DON’T FUCKING MOVE, it hurts. With this revelation, she began to explore with her eyes only.

The room was clinical. All white with a high ceiling. Laid into the ceiling tiles, florescent light batons emitted harsh white light. The brightness of the lights forced her to squint. Another unpleasant new development. To her left she spotted a row of windows but could only see grey, dreary clouds. The weather complemented her mood. The familiar smell of bleach and disinfectant filled the air.

Lifting her head slowly, to get a better view, she spotted two doors. The one on the far right stood open. Seeming to lead to a corridor. Another, closed, was set in the far wall. There were distant voices and low murmurs, but no people. Stretching her neck backward, she spotted more machines mounted above her bed with more tubes and wires trailing toward her. Am I human or a robot? The thought of becoming a female C3PO made her giggle which caused more pain and loud beeping from one of the machines. Asmodeus would love that, being the Star Wars fan that he is, she thought.

To her right, she spotted another bed. Straining her neck to the maximum of her newly discovered pain threshold, she ogled the other occupant but could only make out a mop of dark hair protruding from under the cover. In pain and feeling more confused than ever, her mind began to whirl with questions.

What are we now? Our bodies are alive, human, but we’re not, or are we? Is the human body not just a shell? A vessel for the soul? I don’t technically have a soul so what am I? Shit my head hurts. The more she tried to classify her spiritual conundrum the more things appeared out of perspective. No wonder humans struggle with spirituality. I’m an angel and can’t make heads nor tails of it. Enough! Who cares what I am, more importantly, who am I? What’s my name? Do I have family? Shit this could get complicated real fast. Oh crap, they’ll want to hug. Oh, even bigger shit. What if I have a husband? A man or woman in my life? They’ll want to do— things. How does that really work? Oh man, screw the Apocalypse, I have real problems.

Movement caught the corner of her eye. Something or someone stirred in the other bed. A moan. It sounded manly.

‘ARRGH! Shit! What the hell? Damn, what have they done to me? OK— OK. Fun’s over. You win. I relent. I yield and promise on all that is evil or holy to behave. I will change my ways. Even kill or do anything you want me to. Just get me out of this body. NOW!’

Pyriel smiled. Only Asmodeus would wake up moaning and make impossible promises. Listening to him groan felt strangely comforting. Knowing that he too was struggling with his new, in-body experience.

Trying to speak, she only managed a low croaking sound, which too was painful and unpleasant to repeat.

***

‘Oi, wing ding, is that you?’ Asmodeus asked as he turned his head toward the frog like sound and beeping.

Several sharp, stabbing jolts shot though his body as he inquisitively turned toward her. ‘Yauch…crap….shit….chicken poo….ooohh, au, that was sore.’ Having finally manged to turn on his side, he gasped as he saw how pale and unkempt she looked. A fiery warrior sorrowfully reduced to feeble flesh and uncombed, blood matted hair, he thought.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. He was surprised at how little pleasure he felt at his comrade’s misfortune. She looked so uncomfortable attached to all those machines. And the tube coming out of her neck and nose looked really uncomfortable.

‘Hey, Pyriel, you don’t look so good,’ he shouted with a hint of glee but his attempt to laugh resulted in a stabbing pain that made him cry out. Pyriel’s smile too was short-lived as her face contorted in pain. A petite nurse walked in. Asmodeus gathered she had heard him talking and the noises from Pyriel’s machine.

‘Hello, hello, hello,’ the nurse said cheerfully. Her white sneakers squeaked noisily as she walked briskly over to Pyriel across the shiny linoleum floor. ‘How are you, my dear?’ She asked pressing a button to silence the machine. Tilting her head to one side, the nurse looked compassionately at Pyriel who was making croaking noises.

‘Oh, I’m sorry my dear,’ the nurse said in a melancholic tone as she took Pyriel’s extended hand. ‘You’ve had major surgery on your throat and chest. You won’t be able to speak for a while yet. I suggest you get plenty of rest and try not to talk. Are you in pain?’ Asmodeus saw Pyriel nod ‘OK, I will see what I can do for you.’ Giving Pyriel a comforting smile, the nurse turned and walked over to Asmodeus who was grinning from ear to ear. ‘And you my dear, how are you feeling. You seem jubilant.’

He gave the nurse a hopeful smile. ‘Is there any chance that the no speaking could be made permanent?’ he asked pointing at Pyriel. The nurse, in return, gave Asmodeus a stern stare.

‘Shame on you. You should be more compassionate to your partner. You’re both very lucky to be alive.’ She glanced across to Pyriel, then back to Asmodeus. ‘I heard it was touch and go for a while in the emergency room. They weren’t sure if you two would make it at all. You should both thank Heaven to be alive.’

Asmodeus grimaced. The thought of thanking either heaven or hell for putting him into this predicament was laughable.

‘Is there anything I can do for you? Are you in any pain?’ Asked the nurse. Her usual compassionate manner had returned as she inspected the needle attached to a drip in Asmodeus’s hand.

‘I could do with some Whisky.’ Asmodeus grinned.

Giving a gave a half-hearted smile the nurse replied: ‘I’m sorry, alcohol is prohibited on the wards. So is smoking.’

As the nurse turned to leave, Asmodeus grabbed her wrist. Starring deep into her eyes, he quietly, but very clearly said, ‘Bring me some Whisky, NOW.’

With a repulsed expression, the nurse snatched her arm away. She gave him an insulted, unimpressed look.

‘I told you, NO. You’re a police officer, sworn to uphold the law and rules instead of breaking them.’ Shaking her head, she gave Asmodeus a disapproving glare.

‘You sir, are no gentleman.’ The nurse remarked before turning. ‘You can be glad that your colleagues are no longer here, or I would lodge a complaint with your captain,’ she added before walking away briskly. Still shaking her head.

‘What just happened?’ Asmodeus muttered to himself with growing confusion. ‘Did they break me?’ He spotted a TV mounted on a trolley in the far corner. Supressing the urge to cross his fingers, he waved his hand. Nothing happened.

Oh, it’s not plugged in, he decided. Not a conclusive test. Further scrutinization of the room revealed no other test objects. Turning his attention to the bed’s railing, he gave it a questioning eyeballing. It didn’t seem to mind. Made from powder coated tubular metal, it formed part of the bed frame.

With a devilish grin, he grabbed the railing and twisted with all his might. Nothing. Not even a scratch. More out of frustration than test, Asmodeus hit the rail as hard as he could.

A loud crack accompanied the excruciating stabbing pain that shot through his hand. Asmodeus threw his head back and screamed. Moments later, the stabbing pain subsided only to be replaced by an equally painful throbbing one. The rail, having remained in its original shape, colour, and position, would have laughed if it could. He thought.

Having heard the bloodcurdling scream, the nurse, with a concerned expression, came charging in to find Asmodeus whimpering on his bed.

‘What have you done, you silly man?’ The nurse shouted with incredulity as she inspected the puffy limb which was already turning a dark purple. Biting down on his lip to stop himself from screaming, all Asmodeus could muster was a weak head shake and a sorrowful expression in the form of an explanation. To an accompaniment of high-pitched squeaking, three other nurses barged into the room.

Whimpering, feeling sorry for himself, Asmodeus continued to hold onto his arm as the nurses discussed the situation among themselves. Ignoring his pitiful stares.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ exclaimed the first nurse as she continued examining the hand which was swelling out of control as his body continued to pump blood to the injured area.

‘We better get him up to X-ray,’ shouted another. Everybody nodded. Several metallic clicks later, the bed began to move to Asmodeus’s horror.

‘Keep your hand elevated,’ one nurse shouted at Asmodeus as they wheeled him out of the room.

***

With mixed emotions, Pyriel watched as they rolled Asmodeus out of the room. Still smiling at his misfortune her thoughts turned to concern as reality came knocking.

What happened to his powers?

The thought of being powerless sent cold shivers down her spine.

She lifted her right arm. Grimacing, frowning, twisting her lips into odd shapes, she willed for her sword to appear. Nothing. Her eyes, wide, darted about, as tidal wave of hysteria crashed over her. How were they to defend themselves, heal, continue their lives in such fragile vessels without their powers? She too tried to bend the bed frame. No chance in hell. A scowl replaced her smile as the full extent of their situation became clear and a cold wave of helplessness rushed over her. And for the first time in her existence, she feared Death.

***

Pyriel opened her eyes as she heard voices and squeaking shoes. It had been hours since they took Asmodeus away. Speaking in hushed voices, two nurses rolled a bed though the doorway. As they turned the bed into place, Pyriel spotted Asmodeus. His right arm was covered from hand to elbow in something white. Only his fingertips were showing. He looked calm. Staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes and a stupid grin. One of the nurses came over to Pyriel.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry my dear. Are you still in pain?’ Pyriel nodded as best she could. She had done everything, including begging, to heal herself to no avail. ‘I will get you something now. We have given your partner something for the pain and to calm him down. We don’t want another incident on the other hand now do we?’ the nurse asked smiling.

Who cares about him or what he may do to himself? Worry about me and what ‘ll do to him and all of you if I don’t get something for this pain. Even better yet, call upstairs and tell them to give me back my powers. Then we can really have some fun, Pyriel thought. She glared across at Asmodeus. He was still grinning at the ceiling. First thing, I will wipe that bloody smirk off his face by shoving my sword up his… The nurse returned with a syringe.

‘Here we go my dear. This will make you feel all warm and fuzzy,’ the Nurse said as she inserted the needle into Pyriel’s drip. Pyriel watched with growing trepidation as the nurse pushed the plunger. A stream of warmth rushed through her body, filling her with a light, almost ticklish tingling. Her mind drifted back to when she used to float over green, flower carpeted fields without a care in the world. Fallen, disgraced but happy in herself and her existence. So many things she had taken for granted. Gone.

A single tear ran down her cheek as she stared up at the ceiling. What was to become of them? Pyriel could feel more of the drug taking effect as a floating sensation filled her body.

Is that a mushroom with wings? Do mushrooms even have wings? Who cares? Hey, the pain is gone, she thought as her eyes became heavy. Closing her eyes, she felt all remaining pain ebb away. Fear and anxiety made way to calm contentment as the darkness closed in. Smiling, the nurse watched Pyriel’s face and body relax.

‘Sleep well my dear,’ were the last words Pyriel heard being whispered. Followed by squeaking footsteps fading away.

***

‘Arrrgh!’ Asmodeus moaned as he awoke with a cramping and stabbing pain in his lower extremities. It had been less than a day since his human demise. So far, he had discovered that not only was he stuck inside a meat suit that smelled funny and chastised him with bursts of searing pain every time he moved or laughed. But along with his dignity and self-esteem, Alastor had also taken away his powers. On the bright side, he had discovered a new way of making his new meagre existence tolerable. Drugs.

What the hell is wrong now? He wondered as he pressed the nurse's call button. Glancing at the window, he noticed that it was already dark. Sleep, although foreign to him had come easily after the nurses injected something into his arm. A procedure he found unpleasant but tolerable. Moments later his body had begun to tingle followed by strange sensations of drifting among a herd of Unicorns which were dancing around fiery pits while catching rings that were falling from a rainbow above onto their horns. He remembered thinking, how peculiar, which led to him wondering why he would ever use a word like peculiar. Then there were some garden gnomes playing hopscotch and…

A little female nurse walked in. Her shoes making that high-pitched squeaking noise he had come to love.

‘Hello there, how may I help you?’ she asked with a friendly smile.

‘Hi.’ Asmodeus turned his head to look at the nurse. She was a blond, cute little thing. ‘I have a strange pain, sort of lower down,’ he said pointing to just above his groin. He grimaced. ‘Is there anything you can give me for that?’

‘What type of pain? Is it a stabbing, pulling or pressure like pain?’

‘Um—’ Until a few hour ago he didn’t even know what pain was. How was he going describe it now? ‘Ah— I guess it feels a little like stabbing. Kinda like I’m about to burst. Or something is desperately trying get out of me,’ he said anxiously. Unsure if what he had said made any sense.

‘When last did you pee?’ the nurse asked.

‘Pee? What’s a pee?’ Asmodeus, confused and in pain, felt intrigued. The nurse gave a quiet chuckle. Looking amused, she gave Asmodeus an “are you really that stupid or are you an alien” look. Asmodeus continued to stare back at her with the same pained but blank expression.

‘You know pee— urinate— pee-pee in the potty?’ More confused glances from Asmodeus. Seeming annoyed, the nurse turned to leave.

‘Wait, please. Where’re you going? Please I need help.’ Asmodeus shouted in despair. Not used to feeling this helpless and not liking it one bit.

‘Hang on, I’ll be back,’ retorted the nurse as she walked out only to return moments later with a strange looking glass bottle. The body of the bottle was oblong. Horizontal with a longish neck that curved upward at an angle. The nurse passed the bottle to Asmodeus who inspected it critically before peering into the bottle neck. It smelled like the morgue. Clinical. He looked at nurse questioningly.

‘What do I do with this?’ The nurse snatched the bottle back with an exasperated expression. Pointing at the bottleneck, she spoke with a firm voice.

‘You insert your penis into the hole, here. And then— you pee.’ She looked pleased with herself as she handed the botte back to Asmodeus who continued to eyeball the bottleneck.

‘What if my penis won’t fit?’ he asked He gave her a sheepish look. The nurse crossed her arms and tilted her head to one side. She raised an eyebrow.

‘Then, my dear George Swine, you will make some lucky woman scream from the rooftops one day. But for now, why don’t you just give it a try.’

George Swine? Cool. At least now I know my name. Asmodeus smiled as he pulled the blanket back and placed the bottle between his legs. The nurse turned her head away and raised her hand to shield her eyes.

‘WOW! You can do that UNDER the sheets. I don’t need to watch.’

‘Oops. Sorry.’ Asmodeus, feeling a little embarrassed, covered himself again thinking back to his first public indecency incident when he jumped onto a table and swung his Meat Suits penis about like a lasso.

There were no size problems as he slipped into the bottle neck. He turned to the nurse.

‘OK, now what?’

‘Now you pee?’

‘How?’

‘Just let it go.’

‘Let it go?’

‘Yes, let— it— go.’

He let it go.

Asmodeus threw his head back in blissful ecstasy half expecting to see an Elephant above him being lifted off his loins. Smiling he felt his body relax. Finally, after the third wave, all had come out. He turned to the nurse with a beaming smile.

‘OK, all done. What do I do now?’

‘You pass me the bottle…CAREFULLY!!!’ She shouted, as Asmodeus grabbed the bottle forcefully. Its content swished about. Acutely aware of her critical glances, Asmodeus removed the bottle slowly and carefully. It was a little more than two-thirds full. The little nurse inspected the bottle and nodded.

‘You must’ve been bursting,’ she said smiling.

‘Oh, you have no idea,’ he spouted. His confidence restored. ‘Oh, and by the way, how is dumb-dumb over there doing?’ he asked, pointing at Pyriel. The nurse glanced over her shoulder.

‘You mean Detective Abigail Thompson? She’s stable, but you both have a long road of recovery in front of you,’ the nurse replied solemnly.

‘Thank you, nurse,’ said Asmodeus smiling. Reciprocating his smile, the little nurse nodded and walked out.

Gingerly Asmodeus turned to Pyriel.

‘Hey Pyriel. Did you hear that? Your name is Abigail. Abigail Thompson, and I’m George Swine.’ Pyriel gave a thumb up accompanied by croaking sounds. ‘And guess what, I just had a pee,’ he announced proudly. ‘And you know what? When I can walk, I’m coming over there to pee on you.’ Asmodeus burst out laughing but stopped as he got a stabbing pain in his chest. His mind translated Pyriel’s croaking reply into, I will rip your head off and go bowling with it if you pee on me. Instantly he felt better.