An old Ford pickup sped down Interstate 95, southbound for Las Vegas. It was a two-seater with peeling red paint and a plethora of engine troubles. Behind the wheel sat a serious man donning a serious pair of aviator sunglasses. He was of mixed Peruvian descent, nearing middle age, with olive skin and a medium-length beard. A bald jagged scar ran across his cheek down to the corner of his mouth, disrupting the growth of his beard. He wore a black leather bomber jacket covered in patches and stitch marks. He reached down to the cup holder adjacent to the shift stick and took a swig of warm beer.
“¿Qué mierda es esto?!” He grunted in his native tongue as he suddenly slammed the brakes of the truck. The brakes squealed as the last remnants of rubber on the brake pads did their best to slow the vehicle down. Crossing the road was an unclothed blond man with long hair. Upon noticing the stopped truck the naked man waved and then awkwardly walked over to the vehicle. Without so much as asking, he opened the passenger seat door and hopped in.
“Take us forward,” The naked man commanded something in a strange language. The driver of the pickup sensed no hostility from the naked man and just stared at him.
“I beg your pardon?” The driver responded in English, perplexed. These were the first words the naked man had heard from a real human. He tilted his head but quickly understood the language barrier. He thought for a second before turning to the driver again, and then the naked man pointed straight down the highway and nodded confidently. The driver sighed, staring at his strange hitchhiker. The blond’s commanding demeanor was so innocent that combined with his lack of clothes the Peruvian couldn’t leave him in the desert with a clear conscience.
“Yeah, Okay, I’ll drive you to Vegas. Fuckin’ Weirdo,” The driver grumbled. The blond man nodded approvingly, understanding the tone of his driver’s voice. He shifted the truck out of the park and gunned the engine until they were cruising at 120MPH again.
“Hey, weirdo, what’s your name?” The driver grunted after a couple of minutes. The blond man simply tilted his head. Such a concept was too complex to convey through tone alone. “I’m Caius,” He pointed to himself with a gnarled thumb with his eyes behind the shades still on the road.
“I don’t remember,” The blond man responded in ancient Sumerian as he pointed to himself. Caius rolled his eyes behind his shades as the blond’s gibberish hit his ears. Must be a tard or somethin’ he thought to himself crudely. A siren suddenly blared to life behind the truck.
“Aw, fuck off!” Caius swore as he chugged the rest of his beer and threw the empty bottle in the back. He slammed on the gas, but the poor truck would not go any faster. The battered engine already sounded like someone had dropped a handful of nuts into it. With no chance of outrunning the police cruiser, Caius slowed the truck down and pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. He rolled down the driver-side window with the crank as if getting pulled over was a common occurrence for him. Eventually, an overweight officer stumbled over to the open window.
“Sir, I’ll fix my break light as soon as I get to Vegas,” Caius tried to play dumb. He did not want to pay the ticket in the slightest, and he didn’t think he did anything wrong.
“That’s not why I pulled you over. License and registration, please,” The officer replied, his voice oozing with boredom. Caius grumbled to himself as he undid his seat belt and leaned over the naked blond man to reach into the passenger console. Still grumbling indignantly, Caius handed his papers to the officer obediently. He knew that running away would lead to a bigger hassle anyway. The officer took his papers and walked back to his patrol car, only to immediately come hobbling back.
“Caius Moreira?!” He exclaimed while breathing heavily, “Holy shit! I’m a huge fan of yours!” Caius groaned and massaged his brow. Taking a large breath, he figuratively put on a mask.
“Yeah, that’s me, haha,” Caius winced inside, forcing himself to be friendly. This is all to get out of a ticket you can do it, Caius.
“This your boyfriend?” The cop asked playfully, pointing to the blond man. “Or is it a boy h-o-o-k-e-r,” He whispered to Cauis. There was a slender naked man with long hair in his passenger seat. Caius smiled painfully and forced himself to laugh, unable to deny either statement. The naked blond man waved to the officer and beckoned for him to come over to his door at the worst time. Caius lifted his sunglasses slightly so his eyes were visible to the blond man and shook his head with a stern expression. But it was too late. Fuck, what is the weirdo doing?! The officer walked over to the other side of the car as the blond man stepped out of the car. Then Caius noticed something strange about his hitchhiker. A gray halo hovered above his and glowed faintly, even in the overcast Nevada weather. Before the officer could react, the halo’d man grabbed his face with an iron grip and didn’t let him go.
“No, no! What the fuck are you doing?” Caius yelled. The last thing he needed was jail time and more community service. A bright flash obscured everything in blinding white before Caius could hurl any more swear words. The unconscious officer sagged to the ground, and the blond man hopped back in the truck. “What the shit did you do, you weirdo?” Caius hissed.
“He won’t remember a thing,” The blond man replied in fluent English.
“What do you mean he won’t remember a thing—” Caius paused mid-sentence as he realized what he had just heard. “You can speak English?”
“Not until just now,” The blond man replied nonchalantly as he made himself comfortable in the seat. Caius quickly whipped his head around, checking to make sure no one was watching. Then he started the truck and zoomed away from the unconscious officer. He would continue his questioning once he was on the road again. Caius silently thanked Guadalupe for the luck that Nevada did not have police dash-cam mandates as he stomped on the gas.
“Be honest, what the fuck are you?” Caius asked. Caius was accustomed to strange things, supernatural happenings, and most of all, fighting. Almost nothing surprised him at this point. He was genuinely curious about where the strange hitchhiker came from. From what he could tell, the blond man was some sort of angel. Judging from the gray halo, probably not a very good one, though. The naked man thought for a second.
“I’m not sure,” He answered truthfully. He had absorbed the officer’s entire language memory bank and could now converse in English, but it still couldn’t fill in the gaps in his brain.
“Not to be the bearer of bad news, but buddy, I think you’re a fallen angel,” Caius stated matter-of-factly.
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Does the name Michael ring a bell?” Caius asked. He didn’t really care if angels existed or not, there had been more shocking things to him.
“Michael… No,” The blond man replied slowly.
“What about, hmm. Raphael?” This seemed to get a twinge of something out of the blond man. Caius was just listing every angel name he could remember. “Gabriel,” He continued. Gabriel got an actual reaction out of the blond man. The naked furrowed his brow as irritation spawned in his chest.
“If I translate this feeling into Enga Liche, the feeling I associate with him is,” He paused for a second as he translated mentally. “‘I fucking hate that fucking fucker, I will beat his goats to death with my fists, I hope his crops wither and his children die in infancy, that smug fucking bastard.’ Something like that,” The naked man said with a completely even voice. Caius was deeply amused inside but didn’t show it. The naked man’s statement had come so far out of left field it was completely unexpected. He must've had some massive beef with Gabriel before he lost his memories.
“Hm, let’s try some fallen angels then,” Caius suggested. “You don’t strike me as a ‘Lucifer’ type. Beelzebub?”
“No…”
“Samael?”
“No…”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Azazel?”
“That one feels right,” The naked man answered. Caius wasn’t completely convinced but was surprised, to say the least.
“I guess from now on you’re Azazel, huh,” Caius nodded.
“I think I like it,” Azazel replied contentedly. Caius wanted to see for sure if Azazel was a real angel or not.
“How about we get you some clothes when we get to Vegas?” He suggested. If he was being honest, Azazel wouldn’t even stand out that much despite being butt naked. It’s Vegas, who gives a shit?
“Clothes? Ah, ‘Clothing (also known as clothes, garments, dress, apparel, or attire) is any item worn on the body. Typically, clothing is made of fabrics or textiles, but over time it has included garments made from animal skin and other thin sheets of materials and natural products found in the environment, put together,’” Azazel droned.
“How the fuck do you know that?” Caius retorted. Azazel held up the iPad in his hand with a Wikipedia article pulled up. It was Caius’s iPad that he left under the passenger seat. He shook his head at the angel who didn’t know what clothes were but could operate an iPad. “How did you even unlock that,” The Peruvian asked, defeated.
“Ah, translated to English, I think it might be something along the lines of ‘Angel Bullshit’,” Azazel replied as he tapped around on the iPad. Well, he ain’t wrong is he, Caius thought to himself. The two continued driving down the interstate in relative silence. Azazel sat glued to the iPad as he voraciously devoured all the information he could get his hands on. Meanwhile, Caius drank his warm beers like a fish drank water.
“Hey Jimmy, we’re almost there,” Caius announced.
“Jimmy?”
“Don’t worry, It’s just a nickname for Azazel,” Caius lied. “Also, you’re kinda girly like my nephew Jimmy,” This was the entire reason behind calling Azazel Jimmy. Caius was lazy and Jimmy was easier to say and remember.
“Jimmy. Sounds like the name of a mighty warrior. I like it,” Jimmy nodded. He had no reason to distrust Caius and took his word at face value.
***
“We need to do something about your halo,” Caius noted, looking at the gray ring that hovered above Jimmy’s head. They stood in the costume aisle at a random Las Vegas goodwill. Initially, Caius thought it would be fine to dress Jimmy up like an angel and pretend the halo was part of the costume. Unfortunately, the costume section was almost entirely filled with slutty bunny costumes in true Vegas fashion. There wasn't a single piece of clothing that could be used for an angel costume. Something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. A chef’s hat. It was perfect. It was tall enough to cover Jimmy’s halo without looking strange and didn’t even stand out much in Vegas. Meanwhile, Jimmy was poking, prodding, and sniffing everything he could touch like a little child.
“Here, try this on,” Caius tapped on the angel’s shoulder and pulled the hat over his halo and onto his head. “From now on, you are Jimmy the chef,” He announced.
“Jimmy the chef. Splendid. It sounds even fiercer now,” Jimmy approved. They left the Goodwill with Jimmy donning a tall chef’s hat, a baggy pink T-shirt that read ‘Faith Love Hope', and a pair of torn jeans.
“Do you know what a casino is by any chance?” Caius asked as he buckled his seat belt.
“No.”
“Good,” Caius grinned as he stomped on the gas.
***
Caius was very familiar with the atmosphere. The incessant chatter, the ringing, the miasma of perfume and body odor, and even the stench of cigarettes were nostalgic. Heck, he could even navigate the confusing layout of any casino while blackout drunk like the back of his hand.
“What is the purpose of this?” Jimmy asked, looking awfully ridiculous with his chef’s hat and Christian T-shirt.
“We bet some money, and if we correctly guess where the ball lands they give us a lot more money,” Caius explained poorly, but he knew Azazel picked up on things quickly and couldn’t be bothered.
“Oh, that’s easy, it’s gonna land on thir—” Caius quickly covered his mouth before anyone could hear. It was better safe than sorry.
“Shhh, whisper it to me and I’ll bet the money,” Caius whispered inconspicuously. He had a bad history with casinos and was blacklisted from more than a few around Vegas. Caius reminisced about his younger days. Once, or rather several times, as a younger paragon he had used his control of mana to influence the outcome of slot machines and roulette balls. That itself didn’t get him caught, but winning too much did. Normally, he would just be kicked out. But using brute force, he cashed out his 1.2 million dollars and bolted. Naturally, this led to a high-stakes game of hide and seek that he won. He was on the run for several years before the president at the time had to pardon him due to a national emergency.
“It’s going to land on 35,” Jimmy talked quieter, but he hadn’t quite figured out the art of whispering. Caius knew when to choose his battles and sighed. He mixed in some incorrect low bets with several ‘lucky’ correct bets that dwarfed the money he lost on the wrong bets. Using this technique the two were able to fly under the radar as just a ‘Lucky gay couple’.
“¡Vaya suerte! 60 grand!” Caius exclaimed as the two men walked through the parking lot. He split the wad of Benjamins in half and handed one to Jimmy. “Here’s your compensation, my good sir.” Caius opted for cash because he only intended to blow the money on illicit services and didn’t want to leave a trail. Jimmy awkwardly took the cash, unsure what to do with it.
“What do I do with this?” Jimmy asked curiously. It seemed he hadn’t gotten far enough into his Wikipedia rabbit hole to learn about currencies.
“Just wait, I’ll show you,” Caius replied with a mischievous grin. He absently drove the pickup truck on auto-pilot, retracing the path he’d taken hundreds of times before. He knew the route from the casino to his favorite strip club like the back of his hand. He looked over to Jimmy and jerked his eyes back to the road. No… no, no no. It must just be because it's getting dark. Yeah. But no matter how hard he tried to persuade himself, Azazel’s gray halo was noticeably darker. He was already a fallen angel, it's not my fault...
“Just out of curiosity, do your, uh, parts work?” Caius asked. It would sort of defeat the purpose of taking Jimmy to a strip club if they didn’t.
“Parts? What parts do you mean?” Jimmy asked innocently.
“You know, like your cock. And balls?” Caius said, too accustomed to being crude to find any other way to say it.
“Ah, my reproductive organs. As one of these ‘Angels’, I truly am not sure. But I can check,” Azazel unbuckled his seat belt and stood up as he began to pull his pants down.
“No! No, keep it in your pants! At least save it till we get inside, buddy,” Caius chuckled as he pulled into the crowded parking lot. Or maybe just don’t. I don’t want to get kicked out too... In front of the parking lot was a massive purple concrete building covered in neon lights. It had a neon sign of a mermaid striking a suggestive post next to the neon lettering that read Secret Oasis.
“Welcome to Secret Oasis,” Caius presented with his arms. Jimmy kept a mostly neutral expression, but he could sense Caius’s excitement and pride for the establishment.
“Is this where the greatest human warriors come to train?” Jimmy asked, misunderstanding Caius’s pride in the establishment. The Peruvian man thought for a moment. Conor McGregor, Mike Tyson, Shaq…
“Yeah, you could say that,” Caius answered as they walked up to the line. The sun had set but the day had only begun for many in Vegas. The lights of the city were almost as bright as when the sky was overcast during the day. Jimmy watched in curious silence as he intensely stared at every person in line like they were some sort of zoo animal. He was also still wearing his chef’s hat. The line went fast thanks to the efficient management of the place. Caius walked up to the bouncer whose eyes lit up.
“Ayyy, Cadena Negra!” Then the two hard-looking men exchanged rapid-fire bursts of unintelligible Spanish. Then the two men shook hands and patted each other on the back. Caius then pointed to Jimmy and the bouncer escorted them in. Shiny red booths covered the entire ground floor with countless exotic dancers dancing on poles. Music blared while hundreds of people threw their hard-earned money onto the stages. The dark interior of the large room combined with the orange and purple neon lights created a fitting atmosphere of purgatory. Azazel was too busy gaping at the topless strippers to bring up the fact there were no mighty warriors training.
“Caius, I think my ‘parts’ do work,” He whispered correctly into his friend’s ear.
“Ew, you didn’t have to tell me,” Caius retorted as they followed the bouncer.
“This man we are following, he seems like a great warrior,” Jimmy commented. The bouncer was a 6’2” Mexican man with a face full of scars. His back and shoulders bulged with corded muscles that stretched his black T-shirt.
“Yeah, no shit. He was the vanguard of my old unit. He’s retired but he’s still a level 9 slayer,” Caius explained.
“What does that mean?” Once again, the angel had not reached deep enough into his Wikipedia rabbit hole. Caius was too preoccupied to explain everything, they were in a strip club for fuck’s sake.
“There are only 400 humans on Earth who can kill him,” He explained, heavily simplifying.
Several hours had passed since the unlikely duo’s arrival at the strip club. The two sat across from each other in a private booth as each man received a private lap dance. The room was a decadent chamber reserved for only the most wealthy and connected individuals. It was perfectly round with the leather cushioned seats following the curvature of the room. Every surface sparkled with authentic gold or silver, and neon lights flashed from mirrors in the ceiling.
“My apologies, Ginger Glitter Gina, could you hold still for a little longer? I wish to inhale this ‘Nose candy’ off of your intergluteal cleft,” Azazel politely requested. Caius watched like a proud father from across the room as Jimmy craned his neck forward and snorted a white powder off the buttocks of an exotic dancer.
“Tell me about being a chef, Jimmy,” Gina asked provocatively.
“A chef is a professional cook and tradesman who is proficient in all aspects of food preparation, often focusing on a particular cuisine,” Jimmy prompted by the dancer began to recite the entire chef Wikipedia page word for word. Gina’s face stiffened but Jimmy threw her another bill like Caius had instructed so she pretended to be interested. I’m going to hell aren’t I, Caius thought to himself.