[centre]// - R e i s a n 
[I have lived one thousand lies.] [/centre]

The hair on the back of Reisan’s neck raised as a cold feeling passed through the room. Only one thing, or rather person, had that effect on him. An ominous voice projected from his right, “Hello brothers.” The voice brought memories. Ones he would rather forget. And scars he had to live with. Running a hand under his shirt, Reisan felt for the deep gouges where his black and silver wings had once resided. No-one bar fallens and other mythical creatures could see them. Shifting his onyx gaze to the form sauntering over to the group from his right. Reisan felt fire lick through him; onyx orbs gathered a heated rim, amber flame rippling in their depths as he looked at the form. 
“Hello Lucas. And yes. I still have this fucking sword. And if you’re not careful she’ll see your fucking head roll. Do not forget, brother,” Reisan sneered at the only thing that related them, blood. “Everans is mine. She helped me win every battle I have fought in, even the ones with you. So fucking shut up before I gift her with the one blood she so desperately desires.” Mustering the coldest tone he could, Reisan felt an ashy texture coat his mouth. Clearing his throat, the texture dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. Meeting the firm grasp of his brother Reisan fluidly resumed his position, watching with a steel gaze as Lucas picked on Keenan. “Leave him be brother. And yes, Lucifer, state your reason for calling us together. You know what happens when we stay together for too long. I’m sure historians would love to find out the real reason for both world wars, among other wars over the past two thousand years.” To make his point, Reisan clicked his middle finger and thumb, causing a small flame to ignite and dance just above the tips. 
“Ahh yes. The reason you ask.” A voice sinister, stroked their ears with all the delicacy of thick smoke. Taking a sip of his vodka, the ice clinked musically against the sides of the crystal glass, swirling in the clear liquid. All eyes turned to Lucifer, before becoming restless as he tested their patience by making them wait. “Reisan, keep your hand off what sword. Keenan, keep your hands off that bloody whores tits. Lucas, stop baiting your brother. I could have just as easily done this myself. But I am showing you respect by asking this of you, now listen to me.” Lucifer kept his tone even, and yet malice and power seeped out, spearing through the room. Unease danced along Reisan’s spine. 
“Lucifer. This is not the place. State your business.” Reisan kept his voice low, calming the Dark Prince. Lucas glared at Reisan, he always thought himself the more powerful brother, the eldest and therefore the most superior. None of that was true. Sure, Lucas was older. But only by three years. God had gifted Reisan with powers his brothers knew nothing about, he was nearly as powerful as the being in front of him; who was the embodiment of darkness Flexing his wrists, the angel looked towards Lucifer expectantly, shifting his hand away from the jewelled hilt of Everans. 
Swirling the remaining drops of watery vodka around in his glass, Lucifer looked at the three brothers in turn. “What if I told you I knew of a way to lift your curses.” The three brothers gawked at Lucifer. They had spent the past thousand years searching through every known scroll and biblical text written by everyone from prophets to ancient kings. Their searches had turned up nothing. The scrolls held no knowledge they had not already come across. But then again, Lucifer was the Devil. He had more connections than the brothers ever would have. Its amazing what people will do in exchange for their souls. 
“Lucifer. There is no way. We’ve looked. For a fucking thousand years and yet we have found nothing!” Slamming his fist down on the small glass table before the group, shards glided into Reisan’s skin. Deep into his hand. Blood oozed thick and dark from the wounds, although his blood was still red, the poor lighting cast the liquid a disgusting grease black. Snarling at his hand, Reisan heard laughter from the other three men as he picked out the shards. 
“Young Reisan, I am the Devil! Prince of Darkness! You think I have no way to get this information?” Eerie laughter cut through the night. “This information I chanced across also foretells of how to start the final war with heaven. How to win against the God who cast you out. If you side with me, I will call you brothers. You can lead the armies into battle against your so called ‘Father’. And in return, you will be set free from your curses.” A barely clad woman waltzed over to them with champagne flutes on a tray, balanced precariously at her shoulder. The top half of her was naked, large breasts bulged out, towards their sight. Pretty obvious they were implants. The only thing on her was a sparkly thong, which didn’t do a good job at concealing anything, and a large diamond pendant that hung from her neck on a simple black cord. The bubbling liquid was slightly blue, clearly laced with a heavy dash of Arcanzite. Reisan sneered. Of course Lucifer would do this. “I swear Lucifer, you had better hold yourself to this. Tell us what we need to do. No fucking lies.”
Grinning wickedly, Lucifer slipped come cash into the whores’ thong, giving her ass a small slap, before taking his flute. “It is an extremely old prophecy which requires the sacrifice of one of the Balance. One who represents both light and dark. She must be sacrificed on a Blessed Altar on cursed ground. I have not finished deciphering it yet. I will send message when I have. Until then, look out for girls with thorn tattoos from head to toe. They are unnatural tattoos. You’ll know when you find her.”
A dainty, tanned hand with manicured, fake nails handed him a flute. Lucas was in conversation with Lucifer, Keenan was one step away from fucking a whore, and Reisan, well. He just sat there. The world went by, babies were born, people died. And yet he never aged. He stood still. And watched as the world around him moved on.

[centre]// - K e e n a n
[Rip it out, Tear it down][/centre]

The whore in front of Keenan ran delicate hands over his body. Whispered praises and words to him. The world around him was one of her. Her large breasts, her small thong which barely covered her, disappearing between her rounded ass cheeks. The Arcanzite in his system swirled the world before his blue orbs, creating distorted shapes and psychedelic colours. His erection grew impossibly large. Thank God, Lucifer and his brothers were gone. The pain of his psychic powers needed release. And be that in the act of madly fucking the brains out of the pretty woman in front of him, so be it. Kissing her roughly, they fell back against the bed which stood at the centre of the room. God he hated this. Fucking hell. Why did God have to ‘gift’ him with this ability. What the fuck did it mean!? Tearing off his clothes, he bent the whore over the end of the bed and thrust into her. This. This was the only heaven left for him. 
Keenan had long accepted the fact he would never go back to the real Heaven. The moans of the woman he was madly thrusting into broke through his thought. He had not realized she had climaxed, her orgasm rippling through him, causing him to ride her harder. The voices in his head stopped as he reached his own orgasm, releasing deep into the woman before him. His sperm would not cause her to fall pregnant, it only effected virgins, and this piece of quivering flesh beneath him was sure as hell no fucking virgin. Sliding out from the woman beneath him was a pleasure in itself. For him, there was no sensuality in this act. There was only a need. 
After showering, and adorning some new clothes, black and designer, form fitting and new season. Keenan looked as though he had stepped off the cover of a magazine. The whore still lay naked on the bed, as he had left her. Reaching into his pocket he withdrew a few crisp, Hundred dollar bills throwing them on the bed beside her. Grabbing her knee, Keenan roused her from sleep. “Whats your name.” He asked in a compelling tone.
Mumbling with tiredness, and obvious soreness the name Dea slurred from her lips. Grasping her head, he locked eyes with her. Wiping her memories of the moments which took place a few minutes ago, Keenan replaced them with ones of another man. 
Crisp, salt air teased at his nose, as Keenan stepped outside. The alleyway near the ocean seemed deserted. But something had his attention. Something was down there. The moon broke out from behind a choke of clouds, illuminating the dank passage. The silhouette of a woman projected into his view. She was doing something. To. To a man. Curiosity flashed through Keenan’s mind as he stalked towards her. Upon arriving where he thought he had seen a woman, the only thing Keenan found was a hobo, sleeping askew on the ground before him. Nudging the dirty man with his foot, the Hobo’s head rolled to a side. Two cuts deep into his neck about an inch apart came into his view. The man was dead And the cuts looked like… like fang marks.