Truth

I stood in the corner of the club, human watching. I had always been awful at dancing. I stood, drink in hand, waiting for my target to wander in. I sighed, “Why can’t humans be punctual?” I took another sip of whiskey when a girl grabbed my hand. I looked down, a tiny, dark skinned girl had my hand firmly in her grip. I smiled as her golden eyes pierced my black ones.

“Are you my competition tonight,” the girl whispered into my ear as she stood on her tiptoes.

I looked the girl over. She was short, even with her combat boots. Her dark skin was covered in all black clothing, and her hair was put into the stereotypical Viking braids. I smirked and scoffed, “If you consider yourself competition, then yes.”

“I may be small, Lilith, but I’m every bit as good at my job as you are,” the tiny angel sighed as she took my whiskey and sipped from it.

I grimaced. This tiny thing called me by my name, something I often hid from, considering my past. “Well, armida, what might I call you?” I inquired.

“My name is Amitiel, the Angel of Truth,” she yawned as she scanned the crowd. After she didn’t spot the target, she scanned me from my converse, to my skinny jeans, to my Carmilla shirt, and finally to my long blonde hair tucked nicely into a Doctor Who beanie. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of seductress who slaughtered children,” Amitiel mused.

I sighed, “Oh, not that old lie again. I refused to be with Adam because he was a pompous woman hater, not because I was a man hater. I am the protector of women’s sexuality. I am women’s power over men. I am the enlightener of women. I’ve never touched the hair on a child’s head, let alone slaughtered one. You claim to be a truth speaker, but you know nothing of it, armida.” I slipped out of the young angel’s grip and strode off towards the women’s bathroom. A young trans-girl laid passed out on the floor. Before my angel counter-part could realize what I was doing, I scooped up the young girl’s soul and carried her to Lucifer, where she would actually be cared for. She was tomorrow’s headline in the human realm. Another Trans Youth Driven to Suicide. Her name was Dani. Dani liked to laugh and tell bad closet jokes. I left her with the other poor souls who had never been accepted or had a family. She fit in quite well there. Like most humans, she was surprised at how different “Hell” was from what she’d been told. Most of them expect fire and brimstone, but in reality, we only put your soul where it deserves to be. If you deserve eternal damnation, that’s what you’ll get, but if you’re a good human being in life, you only get the best here in the Under Realm.

“Lilith,” Lucifer called, “did you show Dani around and get her settled in?”

I bowed and responded, “Yes, sir. She’s a big fan of Ghandi, so I put her in his wing.”

“Ah, yes, Ghandi. I’m so glad we got him. Who knows what kind of work he’d be put to in the Upper Realm with the Creator? Probably some meager desk job. He’s so much more helpful here as a counselor. I heard Buddha is rather unhappy in the Upper Realm. He’s on gate duty, you know. The Creator really needs to stop being so biased about religion. None of them are totally correct,” Lucifer droned, skimming through a file labeled Amitiel.

“Sir, I ran into her when I was going to pick up Dani. Since when is The Creator interested in his ‘Lessers’?” I asked, rather confused. The Creator didn’t usually fight us for anyone who was “less” than perfect in his eyes.

“There’s a huge Trans rights movement going on in the Middle Realm. You know The Creator, always such a people pleaser. Amitiel is one of the few angels who will actually collect their souls,” Lucifer mumbled.

I grabbed her file and skimmed over it. “She’s pretty new. No wonder she didn’t put up a fight.”

“If I was her, I wouldn’t want to fight one of The Creator’s oldest beings either. You also have a pretty scary reputation in the Upper Realms. You’re a destroyer of man’s ego and his children. You’re a monster to them,” Lucifer chuckled as he took Amitiel’s file back.

I frowned. How I hated that old tale. That wasn’t me at all.