What is a difference?

She hated herself, not herself, she hated her, the thing inside her, the monster, the hatred, the love... no.. she was the love, she loved her son.. Hated that monster of a spawn. It ruined everything... no it was him. He put it inside her, the child, the stupid... caring... He left us! But she had scared him, her baby boy, her sweet mutt. It was this that felt like an ageless prison that kept torturing her, but it was the brief moments after... the briefest of moments, clarity that she could think normally, feel normally. Yet she still clung to the knife, the handle was sticky in her right hand, from hours of being held on too in the sun, in cars, whatever it took, she kept herself focused on getting to that place. That place which offered answers, she needed answers. We don't need answers. We're not broken. And once more Apollyon was gone for the longest of moments, her body on automatic, as it walked endlessly by a road towards Chicago, walking yet running from the one that chased her, she hoped, towards the end goal, towards her last ray of rope.

By the time she arrived at Chicago, the small heeled shoes she wore were gone, her business attire was ruined by natural elements and that one metal.. car that had hit her. Still she walked, for she was close. So close. We don't need help. We're fine. Just give in to what you've always meant to have been. Give in to family. Each time the voice spoke, she felt herself slipping away more and more, the need to fulfill the curses duty, the rituals final phrase. But she held on for him, and every time she reminded the voice of him, she felt a ping of pleasure at it's shrill screams, no matter how painful, she could hurt it with the mere thought she would be saved by her son... there son. It's son... My hated mutt, our hated mutt.

She fell into a trance once more, reminded her how she found him, the web was massive, it knew so many things, like phone numbers, and where they belong, who they belong too. Business was good, sadly, she was never going back to it, she really liked that man... what was his name? Before the voice could get a say,  Apollyon was broken out of the trance when she felt the physical force of someone bumping into her, and for some reason, she hated them, this... man, for annoying them, for annoying us.

When she finally arrived, she opened the door, her eyes were pitched black, the back of her shirt was ruined, a single black wing, like the darkest ink, folded as she moved into the building, just enough to not stop entrance, but not enough that whatever got in it's way was going to be ether pressed against or moved. Her right hand still held onto the knife, white and shiny, but in her left was the man who had... disturbed her, breathing, alive. But in pain, she made sure of that for ruining her skirt with his nails and struggling. But he didn't matter, she just couldn't let go of him once she had held on, but that did not matter ether. She was here, here at last. Finally her answers could be found, finally. Walking up to the counter of the young man, Apollyon placed the knife she had held so tightly on to in front of him and lowered her head to meet his eyes. "Excuse me. But I read you can find answers here. Answers for things... Demonic. I... We... I... Need help. In finding out what is happening to me... and... if I can kill it.. Before he gets here."  Apollyon finished, staring the man dead in the eyes, she walked for so long, he would be here soon, her son was like his uncle, strong, he would be here soon. And then we can use the knife you hold so dear... then... then... then...

”Are you still on about that?” Samael said with a slight groan, pressing the cellphone against his ear. Razeth had lately been trying to convince him into moving into the little cave he called a home under New York and yet he wasn’t one to move in. The annoying things that came with it kept him from doing so, but then again perhaps it was just him not wanting to rely on someone else. Sure, the arguments were good but he preferred his own home, free of gold that he was likely supposed to be laying on along with a massive dragon. ”I...yeah I know.” Samael huffed,  hanging up the phone and letting his boots settle onto the desks, displacing a few papers from a few jobs that came around.

That being when someone walked into his office, black eyes squaring upon whoever it was that had entered into his business. She looked rather rugged, with torn clothes and a single wing erupting from her back. How she spoke put him on edge, enough so that he was himself prepared to strike should she make herself dangerous, with an unconscious person in her hand. ”You ask for answers, and you come in here requiring so many answers yourself.” His eyes narrowed, a glare.

”So, what exactly do you want?”

Progress, it was progress. Now she just needed to ask the right questions... which were.. which... Go away from this thing. Go away! The voice roared into her ears and she almost gave in but no. She had to be strong... She had to be... strong. "My name.. Is Am... Apollyon I am.. was... an... Angel? Angules. I need. To know. Why this." She pointed to her eyes, which were pitch black, matching the ink like color of her wing. It was then that she realized holding onto the man was a pointless endeavor, he was useless, he ruined her skirt, she should just Kill him. But she had to refrain, she had to be... strong. Why? He isn't your son, just some stranger who annoyed us. But what would her son think, and this man, he would not help them if she killed. Would he? Who cares?

Apollyon stared ahead for a few more seconds before snapping back into reality, her hand free of the body, having dropped it. Looking back to the young man, she needed to finish talking to him, needed more of his help. Needed his help. Not need help, not need his help. "This.. is happening. Why my thoughts are muddled with a voice... No... I don't need to know why... I just need her dead. Before my son.. gets here..." Apollyon continued to ignore the voice best she could, she needed too, this man had knowledge in this right? He would help her, he had to help her. But what is the cost?. A cost... He would like something wouldn't he, he had to want something, something indeed, but she did not take such things with her, nor did she collect on the way here... But she always had that way. Show him a fate worse then death, or show him his death.... yes... "I can pay... With a strange currency, knowledge... I could... show you... your future.... your future death... I can also... explain the ritual... that my brother... Zaapiel performed to make me... this... thing.." Apollyon stammered out the words before gripping the knife tightly and began digging it into the table, she wanted to cut something... no, it wanted too... it made her want too... or did she want too... she really wanted to cut into the boy in front of her... maybe his eyes... the eyes were soft... That is where we will cut then, we will cut his blue eyes, the eyes of his father, your eyes.

The voice's threats were becoming intoxicating, lovely sounds that she wanted to act on, she wanted to cut... She didn't want to cut them, not his eyes, not her sons eyes. No... she wanted to rip them out, just like he ripped her wing out, the Zaapiel name cursed her blood, cursed her the moment she was born. You are nothing but waste to those who care not for you. Give in, become what you are meant to be, what we were always meant to be. Just like HIM. Apollyon wanted to cry, but she couldn't, she could only hold on, and hope for the news that would save her, save... Save...

An angel, he could tell the moment she spoke her name and yet nothing about her looked angelic. Looking into those eyes dark like his, something within him felt chilled in a profound way. Maybe that was what looking into his own eyes felt like, why so many people dreaded looking him in the eyes. Still, nothing resembling dismay came across his face, keeping cool while the woman spoke her name and then what she wanted. Not like it made any sense to him, but it was likely absolute sense to the one speaking it. She needed someone dead, which went against his normal code of ethics. Killing people he had no reason for doing so was a massive no go.

Muddles thoughts, demonic marks and so many other things. ”Who do you need dead? You’re explaining nothing.” Samael said with a frown, not liking where this was going. Offers of showing his future death, as well as something about a ritual that an angel by the name of Zaapiel did. So many questions to be asked, and yet he had no idea what he should be doing. Should Samael be scared, or ready to kill the one standing before him.

”My future death? Sorry, can’t buy food or pay the rent with useless premonitions.” He responded, keeping himself composed and rather harsh despite how odd things were going. ”So, what exactly did this Zaapiel do to you?”

Apollyon was growing... Impatient, she understood what was wrong, her voice was... jumbled, her thoughts were jumbled yet right now, she was liking the idea of drawing his blood... Raising the knife into a stabbing form, she stared at him, before lowering it. She couldn't do this, not now. He insulted us. WE SHOULD KILL HIM... But we will, we will... "He.. Tore my wing out.. It was the final stage of a punishing ritual we stole from... our world's Lucifer as you call him. Our kind... The Angules, taken from a very big books name for us but... modified. Lucifer grew tired of the rules, he...  He wanted to create demons... so he made himself one well over a thousand of our years before. Fifteen years ago... I... bore my child, a half breed. We... It was.. Unknown to us.. They punished me with this... I held back but now.. This voice in my head.. It.. It's suggestive, seductive... As we speak, it wants me to kill you and I want to do it..." Her teeth began to chatter as she rose the knife high into the air and brought it down towards Samael, only to hold back and lower it to stab into his table.  

Staring at the knife, Apollyon finally let go of the handle, backing away from the desk, looking horrified at herself but just as quickly gaining a cold stare as she lowered her hands to her side. The black eyes started to faintly gain striped lines of red as she brought her eyes to Samael. He denied us. US. The Angel... no... Demon.. of Death. "Please... I don't want him to see me like this... Your my last hope... I.. I promise that the death you will see will be worth it.. All death can be avoided..." Demon sounds nice.. Demon... You carried him when you became us... For so long he was inside us.. What if.. Apollyon's eyes went wide with fear as she crumpled onto the ground, mumbling no over and over again. Her eyes stayed on Samael however, he had to save her, she was running out of time, she had put all her trust in her son, this number, this man. He had to help her, he. Had. Too. But to help we must pay him mustn't we?

The voice... The voice sounded so... strong... why was she weak.. she held back for so... so long. Why was she weak now, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair to her. There is nothing wrong with me. I am you after all. Aren't I? She... She was telling the truth, wasn't she.. She was... Because they were the same. Letting her emotions grow around her, anyone in the surrounding area, the nearby buildings were possibly feeling the effect of immense.. sadness and pain, anger at everything around them. "Must... Must pay.. for help.. heh.. Help.. me.." She began to project her power at Samael, trying to surround him in it, to reach into his soul, his mind, his future, an effort that would only speak true if he didn't resist, why would he resist? This was his payment, right? The voice said so. And the voice was right because she was... the voice..

The story came down to an angel called Lucifer creating demonkind, but he had no idea what that had to do with him. Did she expect some kind of great insight from him, or something else entirely? Voices in her head, perhaps from the corruption that came with it, becoming what he was. Had he not been born this way, then maybe Samael could feel for her to some degree but he couldn’t. His own personal hatred for the angelic made showing any sympathy difficult. She wanted to kill him, and he would have none of that really. Talks of death, avoiding it made him grimace. All death was inevitable, and those who hoped to avoid it were doomed to suffering.

Still, she pushed the visions upon him despite him denying them, flowing like a river through cracks in a dam. Despite trying to resist, he couldn’t do so for long, and he found the visions forming like shapes on the water. Nathaniel standing there, crystalline blade held within his hand and implanted within his own chest, dripping thick black liquid.  No words, only a look that seemed out of place for someone that hated him. The pain was all too real, as the golden flames erupted from all of his orifices, blinding pain and then this vision faded like mist dissipated by a breeze.

Coming back to reality, Samael found he had fallen against his own table, sudden weakness gripping him like a fist. Without thought, his hands lifted the desk, scattering everything on it across the floor and he slammed the large wooden structure across the angel, sending her careening through the room and shattering the wall much like the desk. Fragments of wood fell down to the floor, leaving him with only a ruined shattered desk in his hand. It fell tot he ground with a clatter as well.

”And that desk was mahogany too you bitch.” He growled, removing the silver knife from its holster in the back of his pants. ”Don’t know what your problem is, but when I say I don't want something, I mean it, and I don’t have patient for any sanctimonious angels feeling what it’s like to be damned for once forcing their shit on me.”

Apollyon was a little confused by what she saw, she didn't expect much, but... This was... Exciting. He's a demon himself. Apollyon looked to his eyes, seeing that they were indeed black, like hers... She was asking for help from a demon... why did her son know.. a demon. The same breeds do find each other. Before Apollyon could react to the words, she felt herself being hit by.. something hard, with enough force that she indeed went flying.

She slammed into the wall with a similar effect, it was hard, it was nothing to her. She forgot how durable she was sometimes, death was hard to kill. Her clothing was a little more ripped, but at this point she did not care for modesty, he attacked her. He hurt us. He hurt us. We pay him and he hurt you. She was... no. She herself was right, the voice. It was her own, there was no us.. only herself. Baring her teeth, Apollyon stepped forward towards Samael, ready to rip him. "Mom!" She stopped, it... it was him... She turned to face the door, which was forcefully opened, snapped off it hinges. And in the doorway stood her son, wearing a red suit but his face was clear, open, the hood down and those strange training masks he liked to buy beside it.

Jake stared at his mom, her eyes were the black he had seen and feared, her... Oh god... She had a wing, not two, not like himself, just one and it was a pure black wing. Why? She should have white, two white... Why was hers black... Looking to the other person, Samael. Jake's eyes grew a little wide when he saw the silver knife in his hands. "Sam... Step.. Away. From my Mom." Apollyon looked distraught, looking form her son to the man, Sam. Why did he know a demon, why... Because she was a demon.. wasn't she.. she'd been a demon this entire time, the moment those elders and her brother finished the ritual she had been a demon... The Zaapiel line is cursed, remember that.. Yes... She was always a demon... And her son.. Her son... A filthy impure mutt. He is not demon, not angules. A sick monster. Was he? He had to be... Bared an angel, born from a demon... All that time inside her, the changes of the ritual had to effect him, if not, then the changes to her had too. What was he? A MUTT!

Fingers gripped tight around the inlaid handle, the gold pommel itself doing nothing to his demonic physiology. Still, some creatures were weak against such materials and he liked having it around should such a circumstance require it. Looking down upon the angel turning demon, he was questioning whether he should kill her or not. Angels, regardless of what they were becoming always looked down upon his kind, upon him for being something he could not even control. This hatred was something that began to bubble over and yet he had to tempt that rage as best he could. Becoming the monster that people expected of him was not something his parents, the ones that truly raised him wanted out of their son.

That was when his offices door was kicked on, skidding along the ground until it thudded against his ankle, inert and Samael otherwise unphased by it. Turning to look, he saw a familiar face in a gaudy red consume looking at him, as well as the odd woman that had barged into the building without much preamble. All he said was to step away form his mother, Sam turning to the woman with the same look upon his face. ”Your mom huh? Guess that makes sense, with you both having a tendency to break all of my shit.” He flipped the blade within his hand, taking a single step back from the downed...creature.

”Whoever you think this is, well she’s totally lost it. Might be more demon than what she once was.” The casual dismissal was easy to make, and any sympathy was hard to find within his expression.

Jake looked at Samael, appalled that was his... his answer. But there was that tingle, that sense that what he said was true, that he knew it was true the first moment he had laid his eyes on her, on those black pools of ink that was her eyes, only this time, now that he had looked closer, they were lined with a faint red... But he also couldn't.. just accept that, she was his mom, for fifteen years she was his mom. He just... "No... No she.. She can't just.. No.." Jake stepped towards his mom, to which she took a step back, looking a mix between frightened and unsure. "Mom... Please.." He had to try.. he had too.

However, once the surprise of her son showing up died down, she grabbed along the floor, finding her knife that she had left on the table, thrown with the demons attack back to her, Apollyon stood tall, her eyes glazed and cool. This wasn't her son, no. He was impure, not demon, not angelus. Impure. "You.. My sweet.. Sweet Jake..." She began walking towards him, her arms opening, welcoming. And Jake wasn't sure of it... He so badly wanted to enter that embrace, show Samael that this was still his mother, that he was wrong, but the knife in her hands... It couldn't hurt him.. could it?

Stepping towards her, she began to close the distance, with each step she got closer and he became more and more scared but.. just one hug.. It was his mom.. "Mom.." Was all he could say as she brought her arms around him, his own were stuck to his sides, he could feel the knife, press against the leather, moving ever so slowly to the side, before finally leaving, the pressure of it no longer pressed against him. Jake hadn't even realized he was moving before it was too late, his hand gripped a hold of his mothers wrist, the knife just centimeters away from his eye. Looking into her own, he could only see anger, with an instinct to get the danger away from himself, his other hand palmed her chest, sending her sliding back into another of Samaels walls.

Getting up from that, she looked to Samael and her son, wild in her eyes. Feral in the way she bore her teeth. "Stupid. Ungrateful mutt. Your not even pure. Your not my son, your a child of angules and demon blood. My own little Mutt." She began to giggle with a unethical glee, as Jake could only stare in horror of what he had done to her, and his mothers own words. Child of Angules and Demon blood? That made no sense to him. How could he be? It would have to mean that she herself had been both a angel and a demon.. when... No... Before he was born.. but how? This.. How? He looked down in defeat, unable to think clearly..

A mother and son, quite the messy situation from his perspective. Not that he had much room to talk, considering his own mother threw him out before he could even crawl. A part of him hoped that this would go better than expectations, and yet that cynical part of him had a feeling that was just vain hoping. Still he did nothing, letting Jake deny the obvious truth. She was no longer his mother, just a monster like many people believed that he was. There came the embrace, but what followed what all too expected.

The psychotic angel trying to drive the knife into her own son, meeting with flesh that refused to yield and sliding down. It would have met with soft, optical nerves, but in the end Jake did manage to catch the hand before that happened. Cracks spread out from the point of impact with the wall, the woman glaring at both of them with eyes like a wild animals, as his own fingers grew tighter around the hilt of his weapon. Words were spat out like venom, scathing likely to Jake who seemed to take it as well as one would have expected.

Samael had heard enough, and he would shut the maniacal creature up.

In a burst of speed, he rushed her with a fist slammed into her stomach, letting his knuckles collide with the section just under the diaphragm that forced a rapid exhale of air from her lungs. It would make speaking a little difficult when she had to draw in air to do so. ”If he’s a mutt, then that makes you nothing more than a piece of shit.” He spat, following the savage blow with a kick, putting even more force behind it as the wall shattered, propelling her through and falling to the ground with an audible thud to his sensitive hearing. ”Now get out of my office you bitch.”

Apollyon smiled as the mutt began to look, feel defeated, the growing interest however distracted her when she felt a force hit her chest, and the air inside was driven out, strange sensation, she couldn't breath, could not draw breath, it was distorting, confusing. That confusion was soon followed by a slight pain as she felt a kick that sent her flying though the wall rather then just hitting it. The demon could hit. Not as hard as her son however, he was just like his uncle.  

Standing, Apollyon was catching her breath as she looked though the wall, her black eyes glared at Samael, anger resonated from her and she let that anger out, the emotions of pain that she felt, sadness that she held within and let it out, focusing it directly at Samael, letting out a guttural scream as she did, he had to suffer, he didn't help, he hurt her, he had to suffer for not stopping this, suffer for hurting her son, suffer. Suffer for all the things she felt.

Jake stood there, still. Unsure.. his mom... no.. yes.. he couldn't not think of her as his mom. She had to be, she was just... sick. Different. No longer an angel... a demon.. so what was he. Demon? Angel? What word was for that. He tried to move towards the hole, intent on.. doing something, only to be stopped, he felt, heavy, his shoulders sagged and his knees felt weak. He was so.. tired, sad... He just wanted to lie down and cry, cry about all the things that were wrong, wrong with him, his mother. He just wanted.. to cry.

Samael looked down upon the demon he had kicked through his wall, internally chastising himself for continuing to ruin his own office in the pursuit to get the woman out of there. That was when he felt something, his body grow heavy with emotions that sprang up. Darkness, and sorrow trying to make him want to give in. Anyone else would have been paralyzed by the despair, but he just gritted through it like many things before within his life. If there one thing that he could appreciate about his demonic blood, it was that suffering was nothing new.

Leaping from the massive hole within his complex, his boot made near immediate contact with the demons head, sending a painful impact through his ankle as he landed on the ground and followed with another kick that caused her to collide with the wall. ”You’re not wanted here anymore, so fuck off.” He growled with each motion, grabbing the woman by the shoulder and slamming her into a dumpster, tearing metal and causing the thing to violently collide with a brick wall. This caused the metal to dent around her, making removing herself difficult should one lack superhuman strength. Forcing the metal to dent in further made things all the easier.

Apollyon was... well impressed, most did not have the will to move on past all that emotion she could load into them, empathy being used in all the wrong ways. It was glorious. But not good enough. For just as soon as he got though that hole in the wall he was on her, every attack was like a bump, and she laughed all the way though it, her breath caught up from his previous attacks. She even laughed as she was torn though the metal of a dumpster, but of course she stopped laughing when she realized one, certain, factor. She couldn't escape. She began to wiggle and struggle out of the metal but to no avail. She even tried swinging wildly with the knife in her hand at the demon.

She needed to get away, she needed too... to. To what? She had a goal, to make that... thing suffer. But how? How would she make her own offspring, the ruined child. Suffer? Her eyes nearly lit up, trapped as she was, she had an idea. A perfect Idea. And so she started to let the emotions she had focused on the demon spread out, pulsing, hoping to draw something, anything to help... If this demon had a way to kill her.. he would take it, she knew that much. "While I'm here. Tell my son that he... is... Well. His family wants him dead and his father doesn't live here. So have fun." Apollyon said, adding a gleeful laugh as she went, before continuing to swing at knife uselessly at Samael. Her wing flailing about as she moved.

She spoke, but all he did was ignore her, not even wanting to listen to the harsh words that were coming out. ”If you keep talking, I might just try to find a way to kill you.” The nife came close, but it slid along his flesh useless as ever, Samael looking down at the weapon not the least amused. That however was when something happened, shadows rising and cutting through the metal that bound Ampollyon within the dumpster he had knocked her into.

”Looks like I found you.” The voice of the demon he had been chasing cooed, the same shadows rising to embrace the fallen angel, and bringing them down into the murky depths of the shadows, then she was gone. ”I’ll take good care of this Raven Prince. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” With a growl, Samael turned back to his office, getting back up through the front entrance to check up on Jake who likely was not taking this very well.

”Hey kid….I know that was pretty rough. Do...ya...want anything to eat?” He asked sounding somewhat awkward in this situation.

Jake had found himself a wall to sit against, the sounds of metal creaking and breaking outside a curt reminder that something was happening, the way his mom was being attacked, he only assumed it was her being overpowered in that situation. Some part of him wanted to stop Samael, wanted to help her, but that part of him that wanted to avoid her, that part that didn't know what to do. That part of him he thought he had banished just hours ago was... gone.

He had run, jumped, fly. For hours he had done this. From night to day, he had done this, the only thing he had eaten was lunch yesterday and even then that was the only food he had in the past two days. He was hungry, tired, sore and that blast of emotion he felt suddenly was draining. And he knew he could stand up, and keep going, get out there and try to do... something. But there was nothing.. He could do.. He had hit her with enough strength to send her flying and she got up like it was nothing. She wasn't his mom.. so what was she?

Looking up to Samael when he spoke, Jake was silent for a moment, unsure what to do, what to say, what to ask, did his mom run away? Did she... Did he.. No, he wouldn't... Jake knew he had to.. ask.. him. What had happened, more. He had to know what his mom meant by what she said. He had to know. Food would just kinda be a bonus. "Yes... But. I need.. I need to know.. What she meant.. What she said. Please. Don't.. Sugar coat it or whatever." Jake stood up, head tall. He couldn't be done now, he had gone though so much pain, broken limbs. This.. This had to be nothing compared to that. "I... I need to know what happened."