I relate this story to you as it has been told to me in bits and pieces when my Master has felt inclined to speak of such things. Mostly, I have kept what I could remember in a little notebook just so later I could go back and remind myself that he actually had spoken of the things he's done. I have no doubt that if he knew, he would kill me for it. But I shant dwell on that notion now. You obviously came to hear a story...
So let us begin.
Upon first seeing Lucifer Angel, you gather the impression that he is a Corporate Business man. He gives little impression other than that of calm, cool, assurance of self. He is arrogant to a point, and knows when modesty is the greatest of allies. Humble in action to a fault, he speaks very little, knowing as he does, the valuable of silence. He radiates an aire of normalacy, almost of someone who is easily forgotten. Nothing of his appearance is long withstanding, though he dresses in finely tailored suits, speaking of his impeccable tastes for the finer things this time period has to offer. He carries with him a black attache` case which holds his more personal business affects. Inside is a modest laptop computer, files and folders of paperwork and logs and journals, and some other items best not described here.
Lucifer Angel was born Arm'andanta Ke'farl during the years of the pharoahs in the heart of Ancient Egypt. His sires' shall remain unknown as the past is the past and many things fade with time. Needless to say, he was a slave working his life away at the whims of the Pharoahs and the Whip Lords. He worked himself to the bone with little food or comfort until his 27th year, when he happened upon a most peculiar situation.
As he returned home to his hut that night in the coolness of the desert air, a woman approached him. She spoke in Arabic but with an odd accent, one which he had never heard before. He spoke with her respectfully enough for fear she was a Whip Lords spy, checking up on the slaves in the nght time to be sure they were not losing their vision. She beckoned him to walk with her a bit and led him to his hut, and then beyond. He mentioned that his home had been passed, but she took no notice and contiued to talk about his work, his happiness, his well being. Things that no one had ever cared for, save his wife and daughter. Into the night she led him, just outside of the night torches and away from the encampment. A few feet farther and she stopped. He questioned her on why they had left the set home area, where she was taking him, who she was, but she no longer answered. She merely smiled at him. So lovely she was, porcelain skin with a light stain to give it color. Her eyes like stars set in Onyx. He hair flowed about her neck with the soft carressings of the wind. And it was at that moment, when he finally raised his gaze to truly look at her, that he knew his end had come.
The following night found him buried in the desert sands, the sun now set and the new sounds of the night, sounds he had never heard before, calling him to climb and be welcomed. Knowing he had died, but not knowing how he lived, he knew returning to his former life would be impossible. But he could not help himself. He returned to his home to find his wife and daughter fast asleep in each others arms, as was the way since she was born. He gazed upon them for quite sometime until his wife awoke under the weight of his stare. She called his name, but the sound was oddly unfamiliar. He merely stared at them, until his sweet daughter awoke and gazed upon him. Then she began to scream. The noise was incredible and shattered his soul. He could not understand the sound nor the reasoning for it. So he fled. But by then, others had awakened and were there to see him as he emerged. They grabbed and grappled with him, finally bringing him down, so weakened was he. The Whip Lords appeared and questioned what was going on. When he was presented to them, one glance told them he had been taken by Set and this "husk" was what remained.
The order was given to have him burned and destroyed. Just before that was carried out, a woman ran through the tiny village with a speed never seen before. She was a mere blur before their eyes. Knocking past people, torches, animals, and even the Whip Lords, she grabbed Arm'andanta up and dragged him along behind her. The power of her grasp nearly took his arm from his torso, but amazingly enough, he withstood. Into the depths of the desert and what he figured surely was his final demise, she flew. Her speed caused even the stars of the night to be mere streaks across his eyes.
When finally they came to rest, he saw they were outside another small village. She explained many things to him in the span of only a few minutes, but his attention not on her words. Instead on something he could not define. An aroma he had never experienced before. She smiled, finally realizing, and let him go. He wandered into that village and came across a servant girl gathering water for the Whip Lords. Before she knew what was happening and could utter a scream of the purest terror, it was over. Her corpse lay on the ground, her throat mutilated and torn to shreds by his new teeth, not a single drop of blood left in her body, and there stood his sire, chuckling. He turned on her and tried to take her with this new strength surging through his muscles, his brain, his understanding. She brushed him off as if he were a mere fly. She then got his attention fully and, taking him from the village and again into the desert, explained everything. Or at least, that which he needed to know at that time.
It wasn't long however, before more came. They looked upon him with a distain that branched down form his sire. Her, they delat with in the manner according one who went agaisnt the order of the "family". He, they took mercy upon and brought him before their Lord. This meeting was a breif one, but the Lord deemed it was good that my master had been spared. There was something about him....a drive...a fire...an understanding. He couldn't quite place it, but he was pleased. Before long, this Lord decided that it would be good if my Master stood by his immediate side for a time, his singular training completed and he welcomed fully into the arms of his new "Family". But of course, this did not last for too very long. As it has been with my Master throughout the centuries, he gave in to wandering, accepting different orders and missions from his Lord. After a time, his Lord ordered that a seperation was in order. He went one way, in search of his own mission, and my Master went his, both leaving the sanctity of the "Family".
He came to understand his new "life" and take advantage of it, to use it in ways that none of his "brothers or sisters" had ever thought. His name became revered amongst his new family, though he opften took on new ones as different circumstances called for. As the centuries passed, he began to wander in new directions, always the mission which he had been reborn for on his mind and in his sight, gathering new skills, new knowledge, new concepts and ideas. Experiencing new cultures and seeing new people helped him redefine what he could do and become. He came across many others that were like himself and learned a great many things from them. His wanderings took him to the deepest jungles of Africa, to the lushest hills of Scotland, to the Highest mountains of China, and to the dampest beaches and hills of Japan. The wildest western towns of America helped him establish a small, modest home where he could amass a wealth of things. Clothings and money and real estate began to come to him as he made a living as a Gun Fighter for hire. Little by little he wandered the length and bredth of the new land and found yet even more of his kind, and they too shared knowledge with him. But always left and right, others that challeneged him....and fell before him.
Finally, sometime in 1876, he came across yet anoter odd situation. He found that a man had come to call. The man explained to him that a war was going on and desperately needed his assistance with it. The man struck him immediately as odd, but no one to be trifled with. As he spoke on into the night with this man, he felt more and more as if he knew this person intimately. Finally as the night waxed, the man took his leave. Grasping Arm'andanta by the shoulder, he gazed into his eyes, and Arm'andanta lost himself. He vanished into a world in his mind of unlimited possibilities and reasonings. Time meant nothing here, as it did in the real world, but he felt more at home here. He knew of his long lost wife and child and the love he felt for them, and wept. He came to see this new mental realm more and more as the time passed on. Finally, it occured to him that through all his learnings and all the things he'd seen, he knew where he was and what he was looking upon. He had arrived in Hell.
Years seemed to pass by, as the Fallen ArchAngel Lucifer spoke in great length of this war he had mentioned earlier. He showed Arm'andanta many things of his power and his realm. He told him stories and stories of the way things used to be and what they were now. He explained why he needed him and what he could bring to him and what he expected in return. A deal was finally struck, and the bargain sealed. When he awoke, he realized no time had passed in his vision. He brushed it off as mere illusion and not enough sleep. Until he noticed the sun, and that he was looking at it. He nearly lost consciousness then and thought for sure he was dead. But he neither hurt nor showed any signs of being injurned. At that point he laughed and realized his laughter was not his own, which made him laugh even harder. That night, he cleared out his area and made himself vanish.
The time lost between then and now will never be recounted, but of late I have noticed a few disturbing new additions to my Masters' behavior. He no longer walks about as freely. He seems more limited, almost as if he has lost a part of himself, though he goes about his normal routines, and works his regular business proceedings. He seems to be in more close contact with his "Family" then ever before I have noted. Almost as if they are reforming and he has been recalled to assist, though this I can't actually confirm. I have noticed strange people moving about his home more frequently, with more leisure and comfort than before noted of previous guests. They seem to feel more at ease and less as if in a business meeting. I wonder about his state of mind. I worry about his new associates and the impact they are having on him. I am curious if perhaps his tales of the Devil and his deal weren't mere fantasy script, read to me for my benefit of entertainment. And with that notion, I leave the question to you; Is any of this true or not? That is a question that can be answered by only one man. And he refuses to speak about it. What is told in this tale is what I have come to understand of the man. But, for all I know, he could have made up every word as he spoke it. Over the years, needless to say, he is the most mysterious man I have ever met. And everyday, the mystery deepens.