Contrary to popular belief, angels were not pretty. Ten feet tall with three pairs of wings, they were surrounded in holy fire with a singular large brown eye in the middle to give judgmental glares at the poor individual who had the misfortune to be in their presence. The Fallen weren’t any better, without the holy fire, they just looked like a giant eyeball with too many wings. Azazel was the Watcher at the gate of Hell, guarding any demons from escaping to the world above and wreaking havoc. He would only let people through either by permission by the Lords of Hell or if he could be bribed. She had been trying to bargain with him for years. Ever since she ended up in Hell as a child, she had pleaded, cried, and shouted at him to let her through. He didn’t budge. What was a child’s misery to an immortal being? It was only when she was nearly sixteen she realized she never directly asked him what he wanted. His answer surprised her, "I want Lilith&rsqu
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