Disgustingis what he called me.
“You will need to be punished for each failure, Shemhazai. Otherwise, you won’t learn.”
“P-punished?” I asked, feeling like what had just happened was already punishment enough.
“Yes. Punished. After you’ve accepted your punishment, we’ll try again.”
I watched as Raziel produced a vile of a clear liquid. The glass was stamped with the sign on the cross, and I flinched as he popped the stopper off the top.
“What is that?” I whispered, and Raziel gave me a terrifying smile.
“A special kind of holy water. I will use it to mark your flesh with each of your failures, so you will remember them and learn from them always.”
He held the vile over my left hip and tilted it, allowing a single drop to tumble from the lip. The second the liquid hit the skin of my thigh, it burned with the ferocity of a thousand suns.
I screamed as the single drop of water rolled down my thigh, eviscerating my flesh as gravity pulled it toward the ground.
“Please!”I sobbed helplessly. “I’msorry!I won’t do it again! I don’t want to be a sinner!”
Raziel only watched as I writhed in agony on the cross.
When the burning finally stopped, I was covered in a slick film of sweat, and my leg hurt so badly that I wished I could remove it from my body.
“I wish I could say you took that well, but you must strive to do better next time.”
“Can I please have some clothes now?” I whispered, wanting more than anything for something to hide in.
The shame I felt was enormous, and the way his black eyes pierced through my raw skin was almost worse than the acid burn I had just suffered. It was like he was able to feed off shame itself.
“No, Shemhazai. Sinners don’t deserve to cover up their scars. The world needs to see you for the disgusting creature you are so they can keep themselves safe from you. Maybe if you’re able to resist this next round, I’ll allow you to wear some clothes.”
The idea of there being a next round horrified me so much that I broke down into tears.
“Please, no. I’ll do anything. Please don’t do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry, Shemhazai. But I must,” Raziel said solemnly, wrapping his hand around that same part of me. It was now flaccid and limp, but to my horror, after a few strokes, it began to grow again.
Raziel tutted his tongue at my body’s betrayal, and I sobbed, shaking my head, begging him to stop. But he never did. Heneverstopped.
Because, like he’d warned, my sins were ingrained so deep that it took him years to make any progress with me.
I was his, and he made sure I knew it. Until Yahweh made more angels that needed correction—which didn’t happen for a very long time—I was Raziel’s sole focus.
No matter how many times I managed to finally succeed and resist the temptations of sin, he never seemed to be convinced. It was never enough.
There was always more I needed to endure until finally, one day, Yahweh sent him to earth to help him set up a system of churches for worship, and I was finally free of him.
Though, the day he left, he promised me I wasn’t truly free. Not really.
He would be watching, with those terrifying eyes of his, he would peel away any attempts I made at independence.
He would always see.
When I failed, he would know it, even if he wasn’t there with me while I did it.
And if I failed, he would make sure to punish me for it if I ever found myself back in his possession.
The vision faded, and I was left standing in the church feeling like I had been hit in the skull with my own scepter.
