Many times later I reflected on that incident. There was much I didn't know then, but Alistair led me down the path of understanding. That doomed understanding of the damned that makes them eternally tormente, avoiding any peace. I realise now why he waited. He could have get me at any of those times we met in unreachable heights, far away from the damp abode of vice. But he wanted me to lose my fear. To let that wretched inhabitant of the soul free the space in the name of the intoxicating temptation of chaos.

  He taught me to love at the edge, floundering in the torn hymen of self-preservation. And I learnt to tempt. I think that's when I first realised how sweet temptation is. And it was the first time I didn't want clarity. And I betrayed heaven even then.

  Later, after the Fall, I sought a lot. I looked for a reflection of this raging torrent of desperate longing for freedom. I found it in music. Not the kind of music that makes you realise your own wretchedness with awe, but the reckless licentiousness with which the ego proclaims its superiority. Music that challenges and amuses, destroys, if you want.....

  I first heard it in Saint Ferno. In a place hidden by eternal vapours called Infernando. Where one goes to seek the abundant pleasures that only the Born know how to give. Beautiful and vicious children of lust. And I was the only Fallen that night.

  I remember it was dark. Not as dark as it usually is in this reality, but dark as if that darkness was immeasurably enhanced by the flickering of tiny stars of light. Attracted by my search for pleasure, I made my way down the street, in the arms of two new mates. One of them had been dragged here by me and I had not yet had enough of him. The other was an incubus. Both of them were almost naked. I covered my body out of old habit, knowing the mystery was more exciting than the revelation of flesh offering itself.

  Pulling the human against me, I kissed him deeply on his liquor-flavoured mouth. He groaned and slid his fingers pleadingly under my belt. I wanted him right here, in the quiet of this twisted alley. The incubus kissed the back of my neck. I felt a growing lust and for a moment wondered who I wanted more. The greed of the Born, or the sweet submissiveness of the mortal.

  At that moment, I felt it. Like the imperious beating of someone else's heart very close by. I stepped away and sniffed like a beast. Somewhere was happening something that I should have seen. Leaving both to enjoy each other, I walked away. I could hear the inviting heat of the breath of the bodies entwined behind me, but I didn't look back. I knew I was in for another treat tonight.

  I walked to a dimly lit square, at the far end of which the red sign ‘Infernando’ flickered invitingly. This was a club I had not yet been to. I had seldom left Alistair's bed those period.

  With a determined push of the door, I found myself in a cigarette-smoke-filled space. It was full and everyone was whispering in anticipation. Gorgeous incubuses and the touching doomed children of humanity. They were intricately woven together in a bizarre pattern of frozen orgy, shared by the waiters scurrying between them. I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink. I'd always liked red wine. Perhaps it was then that the exquisite of bloodlust began to awaken in me.

  I was studied with stares. Envious and eager. I knew I could get any of them, but I was waiting for something, giving in to the overall mood. Some guy with coloured strands in his hair came over to me and gently touched my shoulder. I smiled at him.

  ‘Is tonight a special night?’ I asked.

  ‘Jim is performing tonight,’ he replied.

  ‘Who's Jim?’

  ‘The Wanderer. He's recently returned.’

  I already knew what ‘recently returned’ meant. It meant that he had died where he was considered mortal. I myself had returned more than once. In memory of that night, I always began to recover in Infernando afterwards. I gave myself to anyone who wanted to take me. I did not refuse anyone until I was so satiated that I forgot about the last incarnation. Your world is stingy and I always return hungry....

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  Intrigued, I stared at the stage, cradling the incubus against me.

  ‘Who is Jim? Why is he so eagerly awaited?’

  ‘Oh, you're new, aren't you? You're Fallen, right?’

  ‘Yeah. My father in hell is Alistair.’

  ‘Then you'd better hear for yourself. Jim is not as pretty as you, though,’ the incubus touched my knee.

  I pressed it against his groin. His breathing quickened, and he closed his eyes.

  ‘Is it true that sex with the Fallen is the best?’

  ‘I don't know, I haven't slept with one.’

  He laughed a teasing, melodic laugh, the way only fun-longing incubus know how to do. I slid my hand under his shirt and froze. At that moment, Jim stepped onto the small, low stage of Infernando. I knew immediately that I needed him. Not so much for fun, but to learn the dangerous art of destroying myself.

  He was a genius at it. When he sang, I forgot everything. I felt in love. In love with the greedy affection of an incubus and the high confusion of a child of heaven. It was my music. Aggressive, ironic. It spoke of freedom, of eternal fall, and I remembered I'd heard it before. When? Probably when I was hurtling through the abyss in Alistair's arms.

  After that I had been to many performances by many returnees and more than once I had been born to hear them in the mortal world. But that night I will never forget. Jim sang things he performed on Earth and new stuff that none of you will hear. Except those who would be foolhardy enough to believe me and follow me. It's true that music sounds different in hell. I know the difference. Humans can only hear the echo of its soul-damaging power.

  I shoved the incubus away and walked towards the stage. I stood opposite Jim and closed my eyes, revelling in the destructive energy of his words. Many were ready to help him forget himself. You could see how weary he was from his long wanderings. But I knew they were all not worth him. Only the Fallen One could understand him.

  Our eyes, hiding a dark demonic revelation, met. After playing the last song, he jumped into the audience and walked to me. I felt his longing. Obeying his will, I let him embrace me. I allowed him much more when we were alone in the semi-dark space of the dressing room. I remember his passion was desperately angry, and I knew he didn't care about me. Endlessly, I absorbed his aggression. He hurt me, and that pain drained my greedy vampire nature. He drank my power, and I savoured this. Then, naked, we sat on the couch and smoked.

  He grinned.

  ‘You're not like the others,’ he said. ’You gave yourself to me to ask for something in return. Your skin is sweet, but your eyes are hateful. Why did you belong to me?’

  ‘Tell me about music,’ I asked. ’How do you do it?’

  ‘The same way you love,' he replied. ’Pleasure and destruction are inseparable. You ruin yourself and when you get to the edge, that's when your fire burns the brightest. So bright that it dazzles everyone around you. That's how music is born and that's how love is born. And there are many who want to burn with you.’

  ‘Teach me how to do that,’ I asked, touching his hand.

  ‘Have you ever tried drugs?’ he asked me in surprise.

  ‘No,’ I admitted.

  ‘Do you want me to rob you of your innocence?’

  ‘Do it,’ I agreed, shuddering with excitement.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Jim commanded and I obeyed.

  I trembled in anticipation of danger.

  He pulled my arm tight with his belt and kissed the inside curve of my elbow. Then I felt a mildly disturbing prick. The belt slipped off, and I felt the drug filling my blood. I rested my head back on the pillows. Through the sense of almost crystal clarity that followed, I felt fraction of a strange, almost cold love.... A love without touch, without words, without the rubbing of bodies. I could feel my flesh decaying, letting his soul in. It was ecstatic, it was incredible!

  ‘Does it feel good?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. I'm dying, Jim.’

  ‘You're not dying.’

  His voice fluttered in my head like a candle flame, like music. I had a sudden urge for lust. I was a Fallen, and the drug was ruthlessly aggravating my already violent nature.

  ‘I want to die, Jim,’ I admitted.

  He smiled, took my hand and led the way. We went back to the hall. My eyes sparkled, and I could make out every face hidden in the darkness. My body was on fire! Never before had I behaved so wildly. My body was twisting with lust! I threw myself into incubuses arms. Someone’s fingers were ripping my skin. I felt as if I had lost its covering forever, leaving only greedily contracting nerves. One got to my body, another was touching my lips, licking the thin thread of saliva that dripped from my half-open mouth. I had lost my arrogance.

  Some mortal with a flicker of cruelty in his eyes leaned towards my face.

  ‘The Fallen One has abandoned pride, hasn't he? Today, anyone can be your master? Even a human?’

  I repeated this experience many times afterwards. Especially when I returned. And each time they gave me more than they took. Tearing me to pieces, they gave me the pleasure of nothingness. Perhaps the Fall has damaged my mind after all. Maybe I secretly hate myself, I don't know. Destruction gives me pleasure. Isn't that the nature of all evil?

  Alistair despised me, but his scorn only fuelled our passion. Love, death and music merged for me. Became something like the Holy Trinity, if they had the courage to collapse into hell. Did I do drugs after that? Of course I did. I wanted to try every road, but there were more painful ways…