MonkeyVault- prologue

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‘Now war arose in heaven, Michael and his angels fighting against the dragon. And the dragon and his angels fought back, but he was defeated, and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world – he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.’- Revelation 12-7:9

‘How you are fallen from heaven,

O Lucifer, son of the morning!

How you are cut down to the ground, You who weakened the nations!

For you have said in your heart:

I will ascend into heaven,

I will exalt my throne above the stars of God;

I will also sit on the mount of the congregation

On the farthest sides of the north;

I will ascend above the heights of the clouds,

I will be like the Most High.’

Yet you shall be brought down to Sheol,

To the lowest depths of the Pit. ‘- Isaiah 14:12-7

Prologue



On the polished stone roof of St Paul’s Cathedral, a pair of Archangels looked down at the city. Night had fallen yet London still glimmered beneath them, alive and swollen, pulsating with life like an embryonic sac. Autumn carried the stench of decay on its breath but whispered promises of snow and glitter. London was a paradox of beauty and foulness. A black city, as grizzled and callous as an old woman but conjoined to an effervescent twin of youth that constantly rejuvenated itself with trinkets of metal and glass, forever beautifying and transforming. In the distance the gray waters of the Thames sparkled, the city's diseased backbone.

Michael sat in a dark cavern of one of the bell towers; letting his legs dangle freely in the night air. He kicked idly at the wind, letting most of his weight fall onto his hands. And with his head tipped back, his azure eyes scanned the heavens.

Lucifer was balancing on a golden cross at highest the point of the impressive dome, squatting with his arms out stretched at his sides. He’d seen this on a computer game somewhere and thought it looked like a pretty cool thing to try.

“You can’t avoid the conversation forever, Michael,” Lucifer called and teetered slightly on the slender crucifix. His raven wings unfurled but he didn’t fly; instead he declined the dome and began to free-run across the Cathedral summit, towards his brother.

Michael drew his attention away from the stars and watched the Dark Angel’s approach. Lucifer advanced like a panther up the tower, his every movement sleek and absurdly graceful, his every footfall precise in execution. He was the perfect design which nothing could rival, the Morningstar and the wrongly accused fallen. He accepted a task that no other Angel could have undertaken, descending from his position of power beside the mighty El to rule the underworld. His title was now blackened by confusion. The name ‘Lucifer’ marred with fear and hatred, knotting him to the Beast. Michael suspected that the slander cut him more deeply than it did Lucifer, pity and mercy was his trait, not his brother’s. Lucifer was a brutal and pitiless Angelic Warrior with no feelings of sadness for anybody, least of all himself and he accepted his fate without challenge.

Lucifer pulled himself into a gloomy alcove next to Michael, “So then, what shit’s cracking off that I need to know about?”

Michael chuckled, “I think you’ve been spending too much time in the Monkey Vault, Brother.”

Lucifer had clearly been Earthbound for a while, evident not only in his terminology but also his appearance. From the shaggy, feral hair to the designer stubble darkening his angular jaw, right down to the expensive, distressed looking clothing, Lucifer was human. He looked uncultivated, raw and masculine all at once and somehow more lethal than ever. The permutation suited him, but then again everything suited the epitome of magnificence.

Michael, ever the traditionalist, bore no resemblance to the humans they derogatorily deemed ‘Monkeys’. His hair was impressively long, a golden stream of light adorned with jewels and iridescent carapaces. His clothing was nothing short of scantily-clad and celestial. Michael’s almost pretty face was clean shaved, which in Lucifer’s opinion tipped his features slightly towards androgynous despite the Archangel’s well honed muscle.

Lucifer Morningstar, the most beautiful and dangerous of the entire Seraph, peered from beneath his curtain of dark lashes and smirked in amusement, “Well?”

And at that moment Michael’s laughter waned, "Our lost Archangel is somewhere here, I feel it."

Lucifer involuntarily gripped the cold sill of stone beneath him, convincing himself it was just for stability but deep down he knew it was more. Fear burgeoned in the deepest pit of his stomach, a flaring anguish which he could never admit to his brother. Instead, feigning casual curiosity, he raised an eyebrow, "And what do you intend to do?

Michael's eyes, suddenly so vile and inhumane, turned out towards the Monkey Vault: "Hunt."