Az

by A A Bavar

  Lot straightened, but still couldn’t bring himself to look at Gabriel. “Please, my Lord, come spend the evening at my house with my family. We are not wealthy, but my wife has prepared a delightful meal. You may even see things differently after some food and rest?”

  I was only half listening to Lot’s lugubrious drivel as I stretched out my arm to the night sky and summoned the powers that were natural only to me. There was a deafening clap of thunder, the first of many on that ominous night, and I felt myself instantly energized. I can’t lie, because the thought of it even today – the power that I possessed, makes me grin. My outstretched arm erupted with raw energy and I reveled at the sight of my hand and fingers engulfed in that maze of electricity. Blinding, blue bolts jumped from the tips of my fingers as my scythe materialized in my grip. Without hesitation, I lifted it above my head and brought it forcefully down on the fountain’s outstretched phallus. The sound of metal crashing against stone was earsplitting as bits and pieces of the Herculean penis exploded in every direction. The godly but yet offensive fountain figure had been castrated. I looked at Gabriel and grinned at his surprised but agreeable smile. As for Lot, his horrified look and constantly darting eyes said it all.

  “Very good, now we can go to your house. I’m hungry, the town can wait,” I said, and started to walk in the direction Lot had come from. Bran cawed and took off into the night.

  I’m not sure to what extent people knew what was coming, but I’m sure that their anxiety was heightened, for although they wanted to rush out and see what all the commotion was about, my presence – and, oh, I’m pretty sure they knew that I wasn’t just any man, made them stay inside and peer from behind curtains or cracked doors. But as soon as we were gone, naked bodies ran into the street and stared and gasped at what was left of their symbol of virility. One, however, cloaked and unrecognizable, sneaked out of one of the houses and followed us. I felt his presence, but why would I care? That, maybe, was a mistake.

  TWELVE

  Lot’s house was nothing close to being modest. Everything was bright and vibrant, from the tapestries on the walls to the colorful drapes on the windows. Even the stone floors were covered with expensive, silk rugs. Everything was a show of state and dignity rather than for ordinary use. It made me want to call Bran and have him hop around and peck at things just to leave his mark and make things look a bit used. But alas, we were guests and I had to temporarily behave. It would all soon be gone anyway.

  I stood in the middle of the living room and pondered where to sit. Gabriel had graciously accepted Lot’s offer and was sitting on a masterfully hand-decorated, plush chair. I couldn’t find another like it and everything else looked too delicate, so I finally chose a wooden chair that seemed strong enough to hold my weight and sat down. It was hand carved with exceptional details and although I wasn’t one to notice or care about these things, the carvings of the intertwining branches around godly figures were impressive. To my dismay, however, it was butt bruisingly uncomfortable. Obviously, the maker – or owner, for that matter, was more concerned with looks and status rather than the comfort it should offer the poor bastard sitting on it. I looked around for some pillows, but didn’t see any. I shook my head at the display of so much useless wealth, and wondered how many camel loads it had taken. I knew that Abraham and Lot returned from Egypt very rich men, but Lot – quite unlike his uncle, had made sure to let his fellow Man know. Why was putting oneself above others so important to Man? What the hell did status mean once you were in my crosshairs? Then, I noticed some decorative, silk pillows laying on the dresser-cabinet-chest thingy by the wall next to me. I reached over and grabbed a few. They felt soft and expensive, most definitely bordering on insulting. I grinned and stood. Unceremoniously, I threw some on the seat under me and shoved a couple of them behind my back as I sat back down.

  I thought of my place, the Room of Candles, with its thousands of burning lights and felt a chill run through my spine; it was nothing but bare, stone walls, floors and wood. Ironically, I remember thinking how a woman would make that room – what is the center of life and death, so much more agreeable. But then again, it might look like this, and the colors simply hurt my eyes and the amount of inutile junk numbed my brain. I also didn’t care for pleasantries or have time for company, so its bareness suited me perfectly. The truth of it was that Man was proud, competitive, and greedy, and the measure of his wealth was his home and how many sheep he owned. Admittedly, owning sheep had its many advantages among men, but I wasn’t Man. I did, however, know an egotistical, offensive goat!

  The meal, like the house, was also way overboard. But that, I didn’t mind. There was plenty of everything and it was all lavishly prepared by Lot’s wife. The fact that it was ready when we arrived, however, made me wary once more. Not that it mattered much, since there was no way that anyone, not even Abraham, could hide what was going on in the city. But the fact that Lot knew we were coming made me uncomfortable and my thoughts automatically centered on Lucifer and his conniving nature. The freshly baked bread, tender lamb meat with mint, and plenty of red wine, however, soon made me forget my worries and relax.

  Unfortunately, our respite did not last very long. As Lot’s wife and two daughters cleared the silver dishes and what remained of the food, a distant and unnatural rumbling filled the air. Lot jumped to his feet and, without uttering a single word, ran to the courtyard. I lazily motioned for Gabriel to get up and we followed. Once outside, we saw a mob of men approaching the house. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like, apart from torches, they were also carrying makeshift weapons; some rakes, shovels and clubs. Gabriel looked at me and I saw that he was concerned. I shrugged and smiled. What were they going to do, plant a garden? But before I could say anything, men’s angry and taunting shouts filled the air. They were demanding Lot’s presence in the street.

  Lot looked at us with a deathly pallor and said in a trembling voice, “My Lord, with your permission, I will go and see what it is that they want.” With this, he turned and quickly walked towards the street gate at the end of the yard, his path lit with lamps placed intermittently along the wall. I looked at Gabriel and shrugged, Lot didn’t look like he could handle anything. The mob was going to lynch him and come for us, and then the party was going to start, but we had to protect him and keep him from getting himself killed until then.

  I sighed and glanced sideways at Gabriel. “I was looking forward to tea and rice cookies.”

  The shouts from the crowd were getting louder and more threatening as they closed in on the house. I watched Lot stop at the gate, smooth out his robe, and then open it with authority. He immediately came face to face with a group of men – both young and old. The horde, which found it easy to be impertinent and unruly while the object of their malice was not present, instantly fell silent. Lot’s posture and courage impressed me, and I felt the urge to go and stand by him. But I also wanted to find out what these men were capable of in order to get what they wanted. It would be the final justification that Gabriel and I needed. The silence was electric, but it did not last very long as a hulking brute of a man with curly, dark hair, beard and mustache, holding a massive club – what else could I expect – stepped forward and belligerently addressed Lot.

  “Lot, where are the fine men who entered your house tonight? And don’t say that you don’t know, cause my little weasel here,” he said, as he pulled the man from the court out from the group by the scruff of his robe, “followed you all the way home.” He licked his lips provocatively and continued, “Now, send them out for us to have some fun, and maybe we’ll let you play, too. It’s been too many nights without new entertainment.” The hulk leaned forward and said in a hoarse whisper, “I’m especially interested in the one who smashed my statue. He will like what I have waiting for him; the real thing.” With that, he slammed the end of the club in to the palm of his shovel-like hand and stood staring down at Lot for a second. Then, slowly, he turned his head and looked directly at where G
abriel and I were standing, as if he knew. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. I have what you’re looking for. And if you don’t want it, well too bad.”

  “Banner, please don’t do this. They are not ordinary men, but angels from heaven. They have come to save us!”

  Lot’s plea fell on deaf ears and did nothing to distract Banner from his immediate goal. He looked back at his companions and snickered. The effect was contagious as the mob started to laugh and jeer. Banner turned to look at Lot.

  “Yeah, and I’m the devil incarnate! Now, send your honorable guests out or we’ll have to go in and get them,” he said, and added as an afterthought, “and anything else that we find interesting.”

  Despite the warm summer evening, Lot shivered, as if a chill had just gone through him. His eyes darted back and forth between the man standing in front of him and the mob waiting to attack. It was obvious that Banner was looking for trouble. No one ever dared deny him anything, and he loved a good confrontation. Breaking men and taking what he wanted was his favorite pastime. Lot, still standing at the gate, took a step forward and, as unobtrusively as possible, swung the gate shut behind him as he replied, “I beg of you, please reconsider. I will fetch my daughters. They are young, beautiful and completely unblemished. You can have them, surely they will be to your pleasure.”

  “Lot, Lot, it’s as if you don’t even know me.”

  Banner grunted and moved forward. He roughly pushed Lot aside, raised his foot and slammed it into the gate with the strength of a bull. The hinges holding the gate exploded as it swung open and smashed against the wall, shattering the lamp lighting the entrance, and then fell to the ground. Lot scrambled sideways, tripped, and hit the wall with ferocious intensity. The shock caused him to lose his balance and, half unconscious, he collapsed. It’s at these moments that legends are born – later to become exaggerated fantasies and superstitions, but before he was even close to hitting the ground, in a flash of blue light, I was there beside him. I caught Lot under the arms and gently sat him down with his back to the gate wall. At that same instant, Gabriel appeared at the entrance where the gate had been standing just moments before. He looked bewildered but, now, absolutely committed to our mission and what needed to be done. I knelt beside Lot and gritted my teeth as he slowly rubbed his forehead and came to, his eyes focusing on my face. Unlike Gabriel, although I was itching to strike and destroy unceremoniously, my drive was not fueled by empathy for or any connection to Lot. It was simply fed by Man’s venal nature; a being with a soul so noble and divine, yet with a mind so feeble and corruptible that any seed planted by a hellion like Lucifer would readily grow and flourish.

  “Lot, go inside. We’ll take it from here,” I ordered.

  From behind me, Banner roared with amusement, “Are these the angels you were talking about? They don’t look very heavenly. Where are their wings and silky, curly hair?” He moistened his lips and continued, “But I have to admit, that one over there,” motioning to Gabriel, “is definitely to our taste. And this one,” he said, while standing over me, “must be the badass who defaced my statue. Well, he won’t be a badass much longer.” The men in the crowd behind him shouted and cheered their approval and started to push forward.

  I looked up at Gabriel and hissed venomously, “And these are the men Abraham was pleading for? I think not, for their souls are beyond salvation.” I stood and turned to face Banner and the crowd, my black overcoat swishing behind me. At that moment, the whole of my attention was centered on the man standing so defiantly in front of me. Anyone with that much mass would not be afraid of anything, but as I recalled the mouse and the elephant, I grinned and said in a malefic tone, “The moment of redemption has arrived. Mother Earth shall receive that which is rightfully hers; lots and lots of ashes.”

  With my eyes fixed on my prey, I extended my arm and pointed to a building across the street. There wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about the two story structure except for its size and the glowing, red lamps lighting the doorway and multitude of dimly lit, draped windows. The building started to emanate a bluish glow against the darkness surrounding it. At that moment, almost as if on cue, the smell of the burning oil that had spilled when the gate shattered the lamp hit me, and served as a reminder of what the night held in store. I grimaced as the blue light momentarily intensified just before the building exploded into a fiery mass. The crowd, stunned by the explosion, immediately stopped and fell silent. They watched in disbelief as fire consumed the building within seconds and roared against the night sky. There were no survivors. Banner’s attention, however, did not waver from me. He lifted the club above his head and lunged.

  “You’re mine, you miserable freak!”

  The club crashed down on my right shoulder with such brutality and force that it exploded from within, its wooden fibers torn asunder. An ordinary man would have been instantly maimed, if not killed, by that blow. But I’m not that puny – as another hulk of a man would in the future say to a similar godly adversary. To me, the attack was no more than an annoying fly on a raging bull, and I wanted him to know that. It felt good to be the bull against the bully. I calmly brushed the broken wood pieces from my shoulder and grinned.

  “You have to do better than that, Banner,” I said in a sardonic tone. “Maybe you should try something other than a toothpick?”

  Banner stared at me in disbelief. It was obvious that he wasn’t used to being challenged – at least not physically, and this wasn’t a game of chess. In a frenzy, he threw down what remained of the club, screamed with rage and punched me in the chest. To his surprise, there was no impact. His fist went right through and disappeared inside me, a halo of blue light surrounding his arm where the point of contact would have been. Immediately, the world around us faded and went silent as a mass of whirling wind enveloped us and created an impenetrable vortex. It was our own personal prison.

  “Welcome to your party, Banner!”

  Horrified, Banner whipped his head from side to side and unsuccessfully tried to pull his arm free. He tugged and wrenched repeatedly, and with each try his face aged years, the exertion consuming his life energy. He screamed in terror as he watched his once mammoth-like body shrivel like an old prune, and his towering stature bend forward like an old twig. His hair and beard became grizzly and thin while his eyes sunk into their sockets, and his skin lost all the radiance of youth and health. He was now an old man, with an old man’s face, all wrinkled and leather-like, but grotesque and without any lines of timely wisdom. He was in touch with death, and well, that just sucks for anything living.

  I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me. His would be the first soul to be taken that night. But then, to my surprise, the contorted and deathly metamorphosis stopped. Banner’s body relaxed and his eyes grew thin and ice cold. His stare, now, was a piercing challenge. Suddenly, I felt his hand move inside my chest, his fingers digging their way to my heart, grasping it and slowly closing into a vice-like grip. I was too shocked to react, much less try to understand how this was possible. My breathing became more and more labored as Banner tightened his hold. My face seared in pain as if cut in half with a dull, serrated knife, and I could feel the blood crawl to a stop in my veins. I looked down. My hands and fingers were completely white and withered. They were dying from inside and would soon start to decay.

  “You really thought that on a momentous night such as this I would not be here? How naïve. It’s our party, now, brother.”

  The tone behind that voice was unmistakable, and although I still expected to see Banner when I looked up, the eyes boring into mine were much more lethal and threatening.

  “Lucifer!”

  I violently grabbed what used to be Banner’s wrist and with a powerful twist broke it. His fingers relaxed and I yanked his hand from my chest. The relief was immediate, and I was able to breathe normally again as blood rushed through my veins, and my hands regained their color. I looked at Banner’s distorted figure standing in front
of me, but all I could see was Lucifer’s arrogant smile – Faust got a good deal when he sold his soul, Banner not so much. Possessed souls are utterly destroyed, and although Man cannot see the change, the destruction is always visible to me. My eyes instantly burned with raw energy, and radiated with searing, blue heat.

  “How dare you interfere?” I spat. “But I don’t know why I’m surprised, because nothing that you do has any hint of morality or dignity anymore. Not even to wait for the condemned.”

  “Bla, bla, bla… stop whining, little brother. You know I’m as impatient as a goat. And, more importantly, I couldn’t let you steal what is rightfully mine, now could I?” Lucifer looked smug. He knew that his presence alone annoyed me, but that was never enough. He never lost an opportunity to push my buttons. “If I’m not mistaken, and I never am, your Lord and Master – whom you have to blindly obey, mind you – ordered you to burn the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah to the ground such that no one remained! I believe that by no one He included Lot and his family, don’t you?”

  Ordinarily, if anyone else made that remark, I would stop to consider. But because it was Lucifer, there was no way in hell. Anything from him, even the wisest comment or compliment did nothing but irritate me, and his mere presence was enough to get my blood pressure so high that any mortal would have a massive coronary. In this case, I heard the blood rushing through my ears and felt it forcefully expand its pathway as it pumped through my veins. I bared my teeth and with my right hand engulfed in blue flames, backhanded him across the face with all I had. Lucifer plunged sideways off balance and crashed into the spiraling vortex prison that surrounded us. The resulting explosion was deafening as the vortex dissolved, releasing the concentrated power that had been contained in a whirlpool of twisting and churning energy. Both of us were violently thrown backwards through the air as the shockwave spread out in waves. I landed on the stone street with a bone crunching thud, but immediately got to my feet, looking around as I did so. Lucifer was nowhere to be seen. The crowd, however, was thrown in every direction and men lay sprawled on the ground, some on top of each other, unconscious or groaning in pain. I watched in silence, my senses sharp and attuned to the situation. The fight with Lucifer was far from over, and he always fought dirty.