[ WP ] Satan prevents a suicide .

The man in the white suit ground a cigarette into a guilded ash tray. Its dying smoke wrapped around his wrist. He had done this before. 
 
 Across the room slouched a figure he knew well. The wounded man laughed. With each breath, he slid further against the wall, leaving a crimson streak on grain of the uneven wood behind him. 
 
 `` So this was your loophole,'' said the man said, lifting his wrist and pulling his shirt past the sleeve of his jacket. `` The one way to ensure we met again.'' 
 
 The man against the wall coughed. The shadows behind him faded as the other walked closer. 
 
 `` The Son of the Morning,'' he managed. He laughed once more and stiffened against the wall. 
 
 The man in white suit knelt beside him. The Son of the Morning reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver case and an ivory lighter. The sounds of violence filtered into the room from outside. 
 
 `` You'll recognize these, Nephilim'' he said, while pulling two cigarettes from the case. A gold circle stood alone on each. `` The fall lasted a thousand years. I saved two.'' 
 
 The dying man lifted a hand and held an end to his lips. The man in the suit pulled back the lighter's casing and lit both. 
 `` It seems fitting,'' he said, as he stepped away, `` that I would watch you die.'' 
 
 The man against the wall inhaled deeply, coughing as his lungs strained. 
 
 `` We both know this is not how it ends,'' he said. He drew deeply onto the cigarette. Blood was now seeping onto the floor. 
 The man in the suit stood up and turned away. 
 
 `` Is this my burden? To watch my only friend sacrifice himself so that I may not succeed?'' He turned back to the man on the wall as he spoke. The dying man was laughing again, but he did not look at the man in the suit. Outside, a battle raged. 
 
 `` If I were to overcome you,'' the Son of the Morning said, `` The gate to our home would be mine.'' He inhaled, still surprised at the taste after thousands of years. `` Were you to kill me, you yourself would be mine.'' 
 
 The angel nodded across the room, where his own bloody dagger lay. `` Prophecies.'' He laughed again, this time remembering. 
 
 Lucifer rolled up his sleeves. Outside, the signs of struggle had faded and only howls could be heard. 
 
 `` Not yet,'' he said, pulling the angel's wounds closed. `` Not yet.'' 
 
 The man against the wall shuttered, and a blinding flash of light shook the room.
