Lucifer feels disgusting. Graceless and dangerously human—he needs to revive his hellish tendencies.

He resorts to killing oblivious angels. Lucifer’s been feeding off them. The population of angels is already dwindling—the last thing Heaven needs is losing even more of its inhabitants.

Lucifer tracks you down. You’d like to call yourself a ‘businessman’. You strike a deal with the devil.

You allow him feed off your grace, slowly replenishing his archangel energy, leaving you teetering on the edge of human, and then stopping so you can recharge.

Angel grace on tap.

With the money you’ve accumulated over time in the world of humans, you rent out a rundown motel to take refuge in for now.

The ritual begins.

Lucifer, with a look of insatiable hunger in his eyes, draws near. Angel blade in hand he makes a small slit on the hollow of your throat. Lustrous cyanic light emits from the vessel’s broken skin. Miniscule streams of light drip like water at the seams.

He leans in, breath ghosting over your neck, cracked lips graze your laceration. He latches onto the source of that irradiant energy, suckling the power into his veins.

Perhaps it was just his tendency towards human behavior lately—but something about this business transaction felt…intimate.