Her True Saving Angel - Part 1
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About this ebook
Sigh, I'm an angel of love. Well, I was an Angel, before I uh, Fell. Yeah, capital F. I fucked up and was tossed out. Now I'm here, hanging out in Las Angeles. You understand the irony in that, right? Well if you do, then good. If not, well, Fuck you.
I'm immortal, still, and I've lived for quite some time. A couple hundred thousand years or so. Nothing to sneeze at, still in my prime. However, in an attempt to regain my favor with the big G, I started a small business. It's called Happiness Inc. and all-in-all, I've grown attached to the job. And now I run it full time, and I could care a less about getting back within Heaven's Gates. It was more work for me to do up there anyways. So now I get clients, and those clients are looking for happiness. Most of them want some pretty obvious stuff, some want money, some want drugs, some want sex, the usual. I oblige all--minus the drugs--until they are happy again. It's my job. Literally. But, thanks to my super awesome Angel powers, money is never an issue. However, My job is more than it seems on the surface, one other gift I was allowed to keep, was my Mortality Inert Timing Sight (I called it MITS for short) and it allowed me to see your clock. Yeah, your life clock. How many days, hours, minutes, and seconds you have until you expire. Another nifty thing is I can alter it, with my actions. Let's say you have two days before your depression leads you to kill yourself. Well, I can help you with your depression, and so then you don't kill yourself. Boom, an extra hundred days or whatever. That's what I truly enjoy doing. I'm part of the reason humans are here, why not do my best to keep them that way? That's my logic at least.
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Her True Saving Angel - Part 1 - Alexander sullivan
way.
Chapter 1
Introductions are in order. My name is Sulli, I, believe it or not, am an Angel.
Sigh, I’m an angel of love. Well, I was an Angel, before I uh, Fell. Yeah, capital F.
I fucked up and was tossed out. Now I’m here, hanging out in Las Angeles. You understand the irony in that, right? Well if you do, then good. If not, well, fuck you.
I’m immortal, still, and I’ve lived for quite some time. A couple hundred thousand years or so. Nothing to sneeze at, still in my prime.
However, in an attempt to regain my favor with the big G, I started a small business. It’s called Happiness Inc. and all-in-all, I’ve grown attached to the job. And now I run it full time, and I could care less about getting back within Heaven’s Gates. It was more work for me to do up there anyway. So now I get clients, and those clients are looking for happiness. Most of them want some pretty obvious stuff, some want money, some want drugs, some want sex, the usual. I oblige all--minus the drugs--until they are happy again. It’s my job. Literally. But, thanks to my super awesome Angel powers, money is never an issue. However, my job is more than it seems on the surface, one other gift I was allowed to keep, was my Mortality Inert Timing Sight (I called it MITS for short) and it allowed me to see your clock. Yeah, your life clock. How many days, hours, minutes, and seconds you have until you expire. Another nifty thing is I can alter it, with my actions. Let’s say you have two days before your depression leads you to kill yourself. Well, I can help you with your depression, and so then you don’t kill yourself. Boom, extra hundred days or whatever. That’s what I truly enjoy doing. I’m part of the reason humans are here, why not do my best to keep them that way? That’s my logic at least.
So that’s me. Sulli the Savior or some shit. Eh, I’m not much of an angel anyways. I drink, I smoke, I sleep around (I can’t get anyone pregnant) and I enjoy myself. Things I never got to do up there.
And now I’m sitting on the couch, playing video games, with a beer next to me, and a cigarette between my lips. What a goddamn angel I am.
My apartment is pretty simple. I have a single bedroom, a five-room suite that’s nothing like I imagined human living was. I have a kitchen made of marble tile, onyx surfaces, with a toaster and a fridge packed with bread. I love toast, so don’t judge me. I know you all eat way worse shit than I ever could put in my mouth.
I have a bathroom, with a simple toilet made of dark blue granite and old, dark oak. The shower’s nice, a walk-in, with lots of neat little mechanisms that allow me to enjoy it. The rest of the bathroom’s made of the same light marble and dark onyx that my kitchen is. Otherwise, it’s nothing special.
My living room is neat. I have a huge television, with the newest consoles sitting on a nice, neat, black and white entertainment center. I have two loveseats for two,