Azrael

Note from the author: This novel is 18+, there are some descriptive violent and gruesome scenes within this novel. Reader's discretion is advised. There are some chapters that readers may find upsetting or triggering.

Max looked around at the potted palm trees, the water fountain feature that trickled in the waiting room and the artificial ivy and flowers that hung from the rafters and littered the walls. He scoffed to himself, this was very different from the waiting rooms he was previously used to. After leaving the army and special forces, he had to go to several different physiatrists to get him used to mundane life. After all, there was nobody running around with shot guns trying to shoot each other, no hostages to save when walking through the city. Max could not relax; he was always on guard, always thinking what if there was a shooter, what if there were hostages... One shout or scream from a child in the park, or an argument breaking out between a customer and security guard set him back, back into the jungle when he was fighting for his life. He could still hear the clatter of bullet shells hitting the ground, the ringing in his ears after an explosion, the blood splattered up his arms forever tarnishing his hands.

‘Mr Moraine?’… ‘Mr Moraine?’ the therapist asked again, knocking Max from his trance.

‘Oh, sorry, yes that’s me’ he stood up and walked through the door the therapist was holding open.

‘Take a seat’ Max looked around the therapist’s office, it was set out very modern. Pale blue leather sofas with enough scatter cushions to make any housewife gasp in delight. Strange marble sculptures sat on shelves around the room. ‘I understand the CEO of Belgrave Enterprises has included in your contract for fortnightly therapy sessions?’ the doctor asked.

Max didn’t want to be here, what he did want was to be able to pay his mortgage. After all his hard work in the military, he now had nothing. Savings had quickly filtered down whilst struggling to find work and to get back into mundane world. Max looked at the gold shiny name plaque ahead of him on the doctor’s desk. ‘Yes, Dr Louis’. Max moved some of the cushions over to sit down on the sofa. The doctor sat on the armchair next to the sofa.

‘Please call me Larry’ the therapist smiled. In between them sat a glass table with a jug of water with bits of lemon slices floating on the top. ‘Help yourself to a drink if you wish, so tell me what brings you here’ the doctor asked, putting his clipboard in his lap.

Max scoffed, ‘You’ve literally just said why I am here, it’s in my contract’ he explained.

‘Do you have any family, Max?’ the doctor asked straight after, ignoring Max’s sarcasm.

‘No’ he did, once upon time but not anymore. He always had a small family, there was him, his dad and his sister, Lorraine. Their dad was strict with them but was a good dad, he passed away to lung cancer back in the early 2000’s. Lorraine had left an abusive relationship just after, she had promised their dad that she would leave her then partner, but not long after found out she was pregnant. Lorraine had a daughter, Ellouise, who Max doted on. Max had never had time for a serious relationship of his own, so he loved his niece like she was his own. Whenever he was home, he would make his way to see Ellouise and would take her to their favourite ice-cream shop for a sundae after a game of bowling. Ellouise got sick five years ago, she was only 11 when she died from Leukaemia. It had turned Lorraine’s world upside down, and she couldn’t deal with the grief. Max was stationed in Brazil when the message got to him that his sister had ended her own life just 4 months after the passing of his niece. Max had loved his family, but nothing he could do could turn back time to change things. He bottled it up and stored his grief deep, he had no time to grieve, and it was engrained into him by his dad and by the military to show sadness showed vulnerability. Vulnerable, he was not.

‘What got you into the army?’ the therapist asked.

‘Lack of opportunity, I suppose. I was a bored and angry young man and needed a job, so I applied with my friend Adam’ Max explained. He was aware he was being short with Larry, but this sort of thing was not a comfortable experience for Max.

‘Your friend Adam, did he go into the army with you?’ Larry looked at Max waiting for his answer and would the write something down on his clipboard.

‘Yes, until he was killed in Iraq. We had only been in the army for 6 months’. The rest of the conversation followed with questions and short answers. Larry kept trying to get Max to focus on his emotions, but that is not something he wanted to do. The truth was that Max just left numb, any emotions he felt he let out when in the gym or sparring, his workouts kept him on the straight and narrow.

An hour later, and never too soon, the session finished, and Max said good-bye for the next 2 weeks. He made his way to his new place of work to get the file he needed. He was now employed as a personal bodyguard and security for David Belgrave’s 17-year-old daughter, Amelia. Max was stood outside of the penthouse office, waiting to be let into David’s own office.

When the door opened, the office just screamed luxury and money. In the office was David’s PA bustling around with drinks and paperwork, David and another young girl spinning around on David’s black leather chair. David was perched on the desk, looking over some paperwork in his hand over his glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. ‘Hello Max’ he greeted warmly, putting the paperwork down. ‘Amelia, meet your bodyguard and security, Max. You are not to go anywhere without Max’ he warned, glaring at his daughter for a moment who didn’t seem interested in what her father had to say, but continued spinning on the chair.

‘Hello’ Max greeted, extending his arm to shake David’s hand.

‘In this envelope is Amelia’s routines each day, her friends that have been vetted and places’ David explained.

‘May I ask, why does Amelia need a bodyguard now? If there is a threat, I need to know about it’ Max asked.

‘Well, she is getting older now and wants more independence. My wife does mommy coddle her a little’ he confessed. ‘It’s causing some frustration for Amelia, so this was the compromise, and Amelia knows if she doesn’t abide by it that her independence goes’ again, he glared at his daughter who continued to spin on the chair. ‘We’ve had a couple of threats recently so I’d rather air on the side of caution. Although, I don’t think it’s anything of concern.’

‘I will need to know all the information about the threats, just in case’ Max explained.

David nodded, ‘They are all in the envelope’. ‘Right, why don’t you two get acquainted. I’m going to grab my bags from downstairs. Debbie, can you go and make sure my 10am appointment is confirmed for tomorrow?’ he looked towards the woman rushing around with paperwork. She nodded and exited the room. ‘Right, I’ll be back in five’ he looked more towards Max and then nodded and left.

The only noise left in the room was that of the chair squeaking as it spun around. Max could tell whilst he had patience, that this was going to a challenge. ‘Hey’ he said towards Amelia, but she didn’t respond. ‘Okay, let me try again… what’s sup?’ he mocked.

‘Ew, gross. Are you from the Victorian era?’ she mumbled, and she planted her feet on the ground to stop the chair from spinning.

‘Hm, something like that’ he joked, he smiled in relief that the squeaking and spinning had stopped.

‘Look, I know you’ve got to be my guard and stuff, but you need to keep your distance. I don’t want you embarrassing me’ she complained. Max looked at her gothic make up, long black hair hiding most of her face, thick black eye liner around her hazel eyes and black lipsticks. She stood up, her frame was very petite and bony. She wore a school uniform with a pointless tiny tie, fishnet tights and a skirt that she was practically wearing as a belt.

‘Hm, I wouldn’t worry so much about that’ he explained, he wasn’t in a position to question the Belgraves’ parenting, but he knew that his dad would have never let his sister leave the house like that when she was Amelia’s age.

‘Whatever’ she groaned, grabbing her bag and making her way to the door.

‘Where do you think you are going? Your dad said he was coming here in five minutes. You are going home with your dad’ Max explained.

‘No, correction… I am going to meet a friend and to go to a party. Your job is to follow me, not to babysit me’ she shot back.

Max laughed, ‘No, my job is to make sure you are safe. You are 17, not an adult yet. Therefore, I will babysit you and I will stop you from leaving if I need too’

‘For f*ck sake, you are a bodyguard not a prison guard!’ she whined. Max stood in front of the door to stop her leaving and she got the message and slumped down in the chair in the corner of the room. Max did wonder what he had got himself into, how had he become a posh brat’s babysitter from being in the special forces? Somehow, he knew this job was going to be more challenging than fighting for his life against the opposition.

Azrael dusted off her hands, that was one job ticked off. She was on a roll tonight, three down and one to go. She was thinking about the fat Chinese takeaway she was going to devour when she heard a cry. Azrael followed the sorrowful wails; the rain was lashing down over the busy city but it did not cover the sound of those cries she was following. Walking past the shops and bars, she carried on following the noise. Just as she was edging closer, she looked around to see everything had slowed down and the noise of the city had been muted. Everyone apart from her was walking slowly.

‘Zadkiel’ Azrael shouted in frustration. Zadkiel was Azrael’s annoying brother, both arch angels but now on different sides. Zadkiel’s little party move was to slow time down so humans didn’t notice the angels. Azrael blended in well, she dressed like a human and looked like one, using one of her four faces and tucking her wings inside of her back. Her brothers and sisters however, dressed to impre