That afternoon, true to her word, Anne returned.

‘Hey guys, good news. Internal Affairs released your personal belongings. They found this in your car. I have your handbag Abigail, a wallet and some keys which must be yours.’ Smiling she handed the wallet and keys to Asmodeus. Pyriel’s handbag she stowed away in Pyriel’s bedside cupboard.

‘Any news?’ she asked Asmodeus who was already riffling through the wallet.

‘No, nothing from our side. Any updates on the investigation?’

Anne had made herself comfortable. She continued telling Asmodeus about the cases, her thoughts, the Russians, gangs, fellow detectives, and the captain.

***

Later that evening, Asmodeus, bored, was watching TV. A doctor walked in with his clipboard and a solemn expression. Standing in the middle of the room, the Doctors eyebrows narrowed, and his foreheads furrows deepened as he perused his notes.

Asmodeus’s concern grew as the doctor raised his head, glancing across to Pyriel who was awake but looked frightfully pale and weak.

‘I’m sorry, there’s no easy way of saying this,’ the Doctor said sighing. ‘As you know, we’ve been monitoring your progress over the past few days. Unfortunately, our tests conclude that your injuries are far more severe than we had initially thought. We don’t believe you’ll make the level of recovery we had hoped for at first.’

Asmodeus gave the doctor a confused stare. What the hell is this quack talking about? Doesn’t he speak demon? Either I live, or I die, simple, he thought. The doctor checked his notes again.

‘The bullet damaged your heart's left ventricle. We managed to repair the damage, but our tests show that the repair is not holding as well as we had hoped, it’s leaking.’

‘Does that mean I have a broken heart?’ Asmodeus asked anxiously. His voice just above a whisper. The Doctor allowed himself an embarrassed smile. His eyes softened as he replied:

‘Yes, I guess in a way that’s true.’

‘Does that mean I’m going to die?’

‘The prognosis is positive. The leak is moderate and will need to be monitored regularly. I cannot rule out additional surgery in the future, but that will remain to be seen. However, you will not be able to return to active duty. I’m sorry.’

OK, I’ll live, that’s all I care about. Asmodeus sighed with relief and the doctor turned to Pyriel.

‘You, Detective Thompson, I’m afraid your prognosis is also not positive. The bullet has damaged your trachea and larynx. We expect that in time, most of your ability to eat will return, but scar tissue has a nasty habit of introducing its own complications which we’ll need to monitor carefully.’ The Doctor’s gaze shifted between them. ‘I know this is a lot to take in and there are many unknowns. The human body still has its own way of surprising us when it comes to its healing abilities but right now all we can do is wait. Does either of you have any questions?’

With his most urgent question answered, Asmodeus thought for a moment before raising his hand.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘How long do you think we’ll have to stay here, um, in hospital?’ The Doctor, rubbing his chin looked down at the floor before answering.

‘Conservatively I would say at least several weeks. You will both need rehabilitation before we can make any final decisions. I have sent my report to the police commissioner's office. They will make all the arrangements. We will continue monitoring your progress, but I’ll be honest with you; you both have sustained potentially life changing injuries. You will be with us for some time. I suggest you make yourselves comfortable. By the way, Detective Swine, how is the hand?’ Asmodeus held up his cast, believing that the Doctor was more interested in his mental state than the hand itself. How could he explain that he was merely testing his new bodies abilities? He gave a nervous smile and a thumb up from his good hand. ‘Well, I’ll be in touch. Good night Detectives.’ The Doctor smiled and walked away. Asmodeus sighed. This was not the roller coaster ride he had signed up for.

***

Later that night, while watching an old western, Asmodeus heard footsteps approach.

Can’t be a nurse, no squeaking. Who is that? he wondered as he watched the shadows of the approaching figures grow on the floor.

Shrouded in darkness, the light at their backs, the figures shuffled awkwardly into the room. Asmodeus leaned forward to get a better look at the newcomers. Based on their height and physique he guessed they were men. Doctors? Both were wearing white coats, the same type as doctors, but curiously, neither was wearing any socks. Asmodeus could tell by the way their ankles seemed to glow. Their pants didn’t look right either. Too short on the one while the other had to hold onto his waistband to stop them from falling. As the duo came closer, Asmodeus chuckled. The clothes were the least noticeable compared to the bloody hair and facial injuries one of them had sustained. Both stopped, turning awkwardly on the spot.

Those are meat suits pretending to be doctors. What the hell is going on here? He wondered, not daring to speculate.

Grimacing, Asmodeus pushed himself up into a sitting position. Studying frick and frack closer he concluded that either pickings had been slim in the Meat Box or these two numbskulls had no idea which meat suits to avoid when walking among the living. From his personal experience, walking around like that on any other day than Halloween would cause mass hysteria. The same type of chaos he was being punished for.

‘Good evening. Halloween is not for another month. You two look like you’re about to audition as extras in a Zombie movie,’ Asmodeus said chuckling. Pyriel added her opinion by grunting several times.

‘Huh? What? Oh, shut up and listen. I’m not exactly comfortable in these— meat things. They smell and make strange noises when I walk.’ Asmodeus burst out laughing, which led to cursing and pain.

‘Enough,’ shouted the other body. ‘We’re not here for pleasure or theatrics. We want to remind you of the conditions of our deal. You are to continue the lives of the bodies you have been locked into and —’

‘News-flash!’ Asmodeus shouted. That’s not exactly gonna’ happen with these broken bodies, now is it?’ He continued in his sarcastic tone. ‘I’m sure you two have been lurking about in the shadows and heard the Doctor say that our bodies have sustained life-changing injuries and that we won’t be returning to active duty. So, I suggest that you two piss off and leave us to live our new lives as we see fit.’ Making a dismissive gesture, Asmodeus turned his head toward the wall.

‘We are here to correct that situation,’ said the first body. He raised his arm in a wavy, lazy arching motion.

Feeling a strange, warm sensation grow within him, Asmodeus starred with incredulity at his chest as a small glow appeared beneath his skin. The spot steadily grew until it filled his entire body, making him look and feel like a human candle. Strangely there was no pain. It felt soothing, strangely pleasant. Opening his mouth, he found he could neither speak nor scream. Moments later, the glow subsided.

‘Ahh, that’s better,’ Asmodeus heard Pyriel exclaim as she pulled the tubes and pipes out of her mouth and throat. Asmodeus ripped of his bandages. No blood, no excruciating pain. To his amazement all his wounds had healed, leaving only minor scarring as a reminder. Chuckling with delight he waved his arms about freely without discomfort or pain. One of the meat suits snickered.

With an evil grin, the second body spoke with bitter undertones. ‘Now, since your problems have miraculously vanished, I expect you to get on with things. And remember? Protect and serve. That’s the police motto.’ Both men chuckled as they turned and shuffled away, swaying like Penguins.

Moments later a nurse came rushing in to check on Pyriel. The monitoring machines were sending out shrill, alerting sounds. The nurse stopped dead. Her mouth gaped and her eyes widened as she herself turned ashen. Her eyes were fixed on Pyriel who was sitting up in bed grinning from ear to ear. All her life supporting tubes and cables lay disconnected on the floor. Shouting for backup, the nurse ran over to Pyriel.

With growing amusement, Asmodeus watched as three nurses poked and prodded Pyriel between gasps of shock, amazement, and disbelief until all three were satisfied that Pyriel would not bleed to death and that they were confronted by a modern-day miracle.

Then it was Asmodeus’s turn. Loving all the attention, he proudly exhibited his new scar tissue while allowing the nurses to turn him left, right and prod the newly healed area. Finally, he too was given a preliminary bill of health pending further tests and observation.

Thirty minutes later, Asmodeus had enough of his new-found celebrity status as the entire room flooded with Doctors, nurses, cleaners, cooks, seeming anybody who was on duty and wanted to see a modern-day miracle.

***

For the following twenty-four hours, Asmodeus and Pyriel felt like lab rats as they were systematically poked, prodded, tested and analysed by seeming unending waves of nurses and Doctors. Asmodeus concluded that doctors were not very fond of the word ‘miracle’ or anything that cannot be explained away by copious amounts of tests and science. Nobody could explain the phenomenon that he and Pyriel had described as a warm, soothing glow that led to their full recovery.

On the second day, both he and Pyriel refused any further tests. As doctors could not come up with any compelling reasons why they should remain hospitalized, they both decided it was time to get out and start their new lives.

***

An incongruous emotion filled Pyriel as she walked through the hospital’s lobby for the first-time during daytime. It all felt wrong to her.

‘This is it’. Pyriel sighed. She felt her heart pound wildly in her chest. An eerie serendipitous wave of emotions washed over her as she stopped before the hospitals main entrance door. She turned to Asmodeus.

‘You got your wallet, keys and address?’ she asked. Without answering Asmodeus continued to stare ahead. He turned his head. With a devilishly grin and a sparkle in his eye he said.

‘Hey, there’s that morgue technician, you know the one that used to do that thing with the rib spreader. Should we go and say hello?’

‘Um, no. I think it’s best if we leave him alone. He doesn’t know us, and I don’t want to be reminded of that rib spreader incident, let alone talk to him about it.’ Shuddering at the memory, Pyriel realised how glad she was to the see the back of some of the freaks in lab coats. ‘I think we should just take the plunge, grab a taxi and find our new homes.’ She looked down at her driver’s licences which had her home address printed beneath her name. One less mystery to solve before starting their new lives as police detectives.

So that’s me now. Detective Abigail Thompson. What’s this world come to? She glanced at Asmodeus beside her. He was quiet, looking thoughtful.

‘You’re probably right,’ Asmodeus said emotionless He continued to stare into the unknown world that lay beyond the door.

‘I’m always right.’ Pyriel prodded Asmodeus playfully in the side. He continued to gaze, unmoving and mute.

‘C’mon,’ Pyriel opened the door and dragged the unwilling Asmodeus into the crisp morning air. Not used to feeling cold, Pyriel shivered briefly as she realised that the borrowed hospital scrubs did not offer much warmth. But feeling the suns warm rays upon her face was a pleasant new sensation. She crossed her arms instinctively as a cold gush of wind brough a turbulent mix of emotions bubbling to her surface.

This is crazy. How’re we going to survive as humans? No powers? Working as police? This is madness. Maybe we should just go back in. Let them do more tests. With her thoughts racing, she felt her confidence ebb away. The world, although not much had changed in the past week, appeared much bigger than before. Scarier. Filled with unknowns. Maybe this is what it’s like when people say they feel reborn. Overrated if you ask me. Why does my stomach feel so funny? We only ate an hour ago. Turning her head, she glanced at Asmodeus. I wonder what he’s thinking. Hah, no need to wonder, she smiled to herself. He’s thinking about food. Damn thing hasn’t stopped babbling about it since he woke up. With her mind continuing to churn at warp speed nine, the true extent of what lay ahead became clear to her. They were about to embark on a journey. No seat belts. No parachutes and no do overs. All they had was each other. Shit, what if we’re not ready for the world? Smiling with a sparkle in her eye she reconsidered. Maybe I should ask what if the world isn’t ready for us? A demon and an angel on the streets of Chicago, with guns and a badge, what could possibly go wrong? Pyriel, still enjoying the sun, decided that only time would reveal the answers, their future yet unwritten.

As she glanced at Asmodeus, she was surprised to see an expression of uncertainty and doubt painted on his face. He would never be truthful about his emotions. Being a demon, he would see it as weakness, but she could tell by his face and demeanour that he too was feeling lost and uncertain.

‘Are you ready?’ she asked.

Asmodeus turned his head and smiled.

‘Hell yes,’ he shouted, but the tone of his voice did not back up the confidence of his words.

Smiling at each other, Pyriel began to walk toward the hospital taxi rank where she climbed into a taxi.

She gave the driver her address. He grimaced and shook his head.

‘No, no, no. I no go there. No good place.’ Pyriel checked about. There were no other taxis. Looking directly at the driver, Pyriel leaned in and said:

‘Please take me there.’ The drivers face drooped, visibly relaxing. Without saying another word, he turned and started the car.

Hmm that was easy, Pyriel thought as she sat back and watched the world go by. Her eyes seeing everything from a new perspective that frightened the hell out of her. Baby steps Pyriel, baby steps, she thought, looking forward to meeting her new home.

To be continued...