The following is from

The Azazeel Poems

aka

I know youre in love with Death

Three

Rolf Auer, 2 May 2015 c.e. aka A.D. Sa ~19:04

For R.P.

Im not okay with rape.

Neither is my wife

Azazeel, The Angel of Death.

When I was mortal

and young

it was dinner

and a movie,

you know?

Whatever happened

to good old-fashioned dating

in the space of

a few short years?

What had I become, some

misguided Old School

moral relativist relic?

When I was mortal

I heard about

a case where

four young men

attacked and beat a

mentally challenged woman

and her husband.

They tied him up

and raped her to death

in front of him.

At that time

I was writing for

Amnesty International.

For the first time

I did not write to

ask for clemency for

the four young men, and

they were put to death.

I remember I was crying

when I made that decision

not to intervene. I had compromised

myself, by acting as judge, jury and

executioner. I stopped

writing for Amnesty International.

I didnt come to terms with my

hypocrisy

until after

Azazeel and I

got married.

However, in our world

theres no Amnesty.

Now, she and I do a rape case

every so often

because the meat is so tender.

I guess that means

that food has the

final say in

moral decision-making:

Much depends on dinner.

Today was such a day.

The case was a sad one.

A confused young woman

was publicly humiliated by

apparently unrepentant

vicious and predatory young men

who effectively raped her.

They were not punished on Earth.

Overwhelmed by shame, she

killed herself.

Now, however, the young men were in

our domain.

We did our typical routine,

feeding them and setting them

free.

Then we ran them down,

toying with them

so as to drag out

their deaths.

We rendered them unconscious

and tied them up.

We arranged them so they could have

a good view of us and each other.

Then, Azazeel and I put on a show

for them, fucking

as we like to do

exactly the same as the big cats,

repeatedly, 100 times,

over the course of

the morning and early afternoon.

Wasnt that fun, dear? And no rape! I spoke the only words we said

the entire time. She smiled at me,

then looked at the young men,

death rising in her eyes.

I dragged the first one,

the ringleader,

out in full view of

the others.

I did my standard move,

which meant that I

unsheathed my claws

and ripped his face off

so that he slowly bled to death,

blinded by his own blood.

Before he expired

I turned him over,

pulled down his pants

and as violently and

painfully as possible

fucked him up the ass

while he died.

Azazeel laughed and

clapped her hands gleefully.

I finished just as he expired

and went to fetch another.

Meanwhile, Azazeel used her claws

to slice open the chest of the

still-warm dead person

to get at her favourite

meat: the heart.

She cut it out

and bit into it

like one might bite

into a juicy red apple,

the hearts blood running down her widely smiling mouth,

her teeth and her eyes

glinting redly in

the bright afternoon sun.

O Death, this day thou art

bloodily savage and hideously beautiful.

Im Old School no more, I guess. Pity.