by Donovan Neal
The Prince of Angels screamed in pain. The teeth of the maw clawed at him, ripped clothing and dug deeper into his skin.
Teeth of diamonds how is this possible? He thought.
More agony.
Few among the Elohim had experienced such a sensation: the termination of life. Saesheal was the first. Lucifer began to understand the allure and intoxication to take life. Abaddon had stumbled upon this level of forbidden knowledge that El sought to deny them. Lucifer would have this secret as well; he would know the knowledge of life and death.
Here within the veins of Hell, Hell tutored Lucifer that death was power. The ability to both create and destroy was strength. Here in the hungry clutches of teeth and volcanic gums, where brimstone spittle drenched his face: Lucifer understood the pleasure of Apollyon’s fascination with destruction.
Yet he was not Apollyon, and he refused to bow to destruction this day. His was the feet that walked on the very stones that powered the Kiln. Moreover, his would be the feet that would walk through the colon of Hell.
Lucifer called upon the power of his vocal cords and the tabrets and percussion instruments buried in the soles of his feet. Lucifer roared and slammed his feet into the umbilical floor. The sonic waves dispersed in all directions and rippled towards the row of teeth that barred his path. The tone of Lucifer’s pitch assaulted the creature’s mouth, and the teeth shattered as glass against the frequency of a tuning fork.
Injured but undaunted, Lucifer continued to track the path of Charon, deeper into the bowels of a creature that fueled itself on the digestion of angels.
Lucifer walked on the floor of Hell. His feet burned, and smoke rose as he took each step forward. The floor moved underneath him as lava licked at his soles.
Hell had become aware of his presence, alerted to this strange menace.
As a body struggles to fight a virus, Hell unleashed its brimstone antibodies to fight off this intruder. The immune system of a living mountain unleashed to do battle with the First of Angels.
They came without warning, and they came without concern for title or respect for protocol: centipedes of lava and brimstone hissed as they moved and slowly inched their way to consume the First of Angels.
Lucifer stepped back, for the eyes in the floor followed his every step. Each mouth within the walls of Hell snapped and gnashed teeth and waited to snatch a bite from his flesh, an Elohim whose taste was rife with lusciousness.
Lucifer was quick and moved speedily around the creatures. Soon more appeared, Hell increasingly aware of this contagion. With each step, he took; another creature of volcanic bile appeared, ready to devour him.
One-step, a new creature formed from the floor. Two steps forward and two creatures appeared. Each squished eye of the floor formed into a creature ready to consume. Lucifer stopped moving. Each creature moved and hissed as they converged on his position, but when he stood still, no new creatures formed.
Aha, so they are activated by my steps!
Lucifer lifted himself from the floor out of reach of the mindless creatures. Their movement stopped and the eyes melted back into the fiery floor.
Lucifer flew through ash and smoke careful to avoid the ceiling or walls: and as he made his way through the fiery digestive tract, he heard screams. Lucifer followed the anguished cries until he exited the antechamber and entered a room filled with tendrils that crisscrossed the entire room.
He hovered just outside the lattice of flame and acidic goo and stared to behold Apollyon centered within a netting of pain, caught like a fly within a web.
Tendrils of white-hot magma and sulfuric acid shackled his ankles and wrists while vines of molten lava filled his mouth: he struggled to breathe. Bile secreted from his ears and dribbled down the side of his face to his shoulders. Chain link impressions covered his chest and the back of His chest was lacerated, leaving his flesh exposed. His wings were stretched and ripped, spread wide like an etymological specimen and pierced with needle like stingers as a butterfly mounted for display.
And the mountain fed.
Lucifer watched as the eternal life force of the Kiln sucked Apollyon dry, yet the mountain also gave life and infused him with life from the Kiln in a perpetual cycle of draining and giving.
Lucifer watched as Apollyon burned and writhed in agony. His body weakened, and his framed diminished from Hell's insatiable appetite. Hell suckled on Apollyon’s stone of fire.
Lucifer gawked at the cruelty of El. His mind angered that a creator who portrayed himself as the ultimate expression of benevolence would be evil enough to fashion a prison so torturous.
In rage, Lucifer extended his claws and assumed his diamond form ready for battle. He launched himself headlong into the web.
“Release him now!” Lucifer shouted in defiance against the engorgement before him.
Acidic tendrils recoiled and snapped to attention. Cut asunder by the claws of the Chief Prince.
Lucifer entered the lattice and immediately his skin burned. Pain wracked his body as heavy fluid rushed in from a side chamber to fill the room and drown the duo in magma and acidic brimstone.
Lucifer’s fight to rescue Apollyon came to a swift halt, as more tendrils shot from the walls. Hell would have the First of Angels; she would taste new flesh.
Lucifer hacked coil after coil, keeping each from ensnaring him as he marched ever closer to within inches of Apollyon.
Hell raised a wall of fire before Lucifer, and the concussive force knocked the angel from the air; his body slammed into the moist ground. Eyes liquefied underneath him and again the march of pyroclastic antibodies rose up from the floor ready to consume him. They wrapped their bodies over his feet and his arms as the Chief Prince lay prone, his back against the floor.
Lucifer looked up to see the same tendrils that held Apollyon slowly lower to entangle him. He struggled and the experience of fear for his own person gripped him for the first time, but only for a moment as panic slowly dissipated, and pride and anger filled his mind once more.
“I will not be denied! I will be like the most High!” Lucifer opened his mouth, exposed the trumpets and other horned instruments in his belly, and let out a shrieking cry. The sound blasted away the brimstone antibodies, and smashed the lattice that held both him and Apollyon.
Hell heaved and lurched as its internal organs contorted from pain. Apollyon crashed to the magma floor. Lucifer grabbed Apollyon by the arm and lifted the barely conscious Arelim to his feet.
Lucifer looked to his rear as the hissing sound of the pyroclastic antibodies made their approach to engulf him. He quickly opened his mouth and recited the Elomic command to open a Ladder to Earth. White light bright as a star, formed around the battered duo and lightning crackled around them.
Hell again convulsed in pain as the eyes of the cavern floor turned red and the antigens multiplied and raced to swallow angel flesh.
Lucifer continued the chant and completed the command, and with the last phonetic utterance, the boom of a Ladder surged through the heated cavern. A flash of light sprayed across the chamber, and a ball of lightning engulfed the two. Lucifer staggered as he carried Apollyon, and as a man might jump from a cliff Lucifer leaped into the swirling drain of light, power, and magma. A chute that connected momentarily the realm of Hell with Earth.
Lucifer and Apollyon fell down the winding tunnel as galaxies and stars shot passed them. Lucifer gritted his teeth as he descended. Hell's connected entrails intermingled with the Ladder made them streak like a comet through Earth’s atmosphere.
His strategy to escape Hell was sure and with a great explosion, the foot of the Ladder touched the green earth with the sound of a thousand tree limbs snapping at once. The flames of Hell fire followed and scorched the ground.
Lucifer and Apollyon immediately materialized and slammed into the ground as the shock wave of their impact tossed redwoods and boulders to every side and blackened the soft ground beneath them.
Smoke, ash, and brimstone line
d the crater. The sound of steam wafted into the air, and the crackle of burnt grass and wood filled the area, while the acrid smell of ash and sulfur crammed the nostrils of all things that could smell.
Lucifer surveyed his surroundings, and as the ashy fog lifted, he saw Apollyon semi-conscious and sprawled out at his feet. The former Archon of Sol looked groggily upon Lucifer with dazed eyes, and strained to speak.
“Thank you Chief Prince,” said Abaddon. “I am in your debt.”
Lucifer smiled as smoke slowly lifted from his diamond frame. His skin shown brilliantly against the sun's reflected rays, and he replied.
“Then let us go my friend, and wreak havoc on they which imprisoned thee.”
********************
“In this day I shall take my rest,” said El.
“In this day you will have great tribulation, but be of good cheer. I have placed my faith in you. Rest your faith in me, and you shall come forth as pure gold,” said El.
Michael and the rest of the council kneeled before El and listened to their Lord. El smiled and looked at them.
“My children, I leave you but for one day that all should be accomplished in accordance with my will.” El then closed his eyes.
Immediately, the Shekinah Glory grew dim, lifted from off El, and rocketed out the palace flying over the city and towards the edge of Heaven, then dissipated to parts unknown. The light of Heaven retreated as the setting of the sun. The mountain of God grew dim and darkness crept over all the land. As the host of Heaven looked upon the dimming sky a fog rose from the ground. The temperature dropped and all of Heaven felt El’s immediate presence no more.
The princes continued to kneel before their Lord and waited for dismissal, but word never came. Eventually Michael looked at his master, walked towards the throne, laid prostrate before him and kissed his feet, but El did not stir.
Michael walked down the steps back towards his brothers who looked upon him with confusion.
Gabriel spoke first. “Michael what shall we do?”
Sariel added. “How shall we function without El?”
Jerahmeel stood, walked towards Michael, hugged him and said, “Well, since Lucy’s not here, looks like you’re in charge. So what are your orders?”
Michael looked at them all. “We continue in our assignm…”
The sound of a hammer hitting metal came from the side chamber of the Kiln. Michael and the others quickly made their way to the Kiln door with its bronze exterior latticed with gold. They stared at the door and wondered.
It bulged outward as if impacted from the inside. Michael touched the protruding warped shape, his mind curious as to what force could damage the gate of heavy bronze.
“Perhaps Charon?” Michael said.
Raphael stared at the door, studied the bulge and observed how the door strained to stay attached to its hinges, and his countenance grew grim. The air moved from the escaping heat that blistered inside.
“Or something else,” said Raphael.
“What else could it be, and what then of Charon?” asked Gabriel.
Suddenly the mountain of God shook from a tremor and they all shifted to keep from falling over.
The princes turned and quickly raced from the throne room. They exited the temple and stopped at the entrance to the temple doors outside. Each clamored to view Mt. Hell, which erupted and shook the ground of Heaven. Its roar was heard for miles, and they looked with telescopic eyes to see if Charon’s dark statue of a figure was still present.
“Do you see him?” Talus said.
“No.” Sariel replied.
Michael turned to his brother Gabriel and spoke.
“Gabriel go to Hell’s maw and report what you find, but go quickly.”
Gabriel nodded, and vanished before them. In the distance, they saw that he now stood at the Maw. Gabriel stood atop the black rock of the entrance. The stench of sulfur bristled and pricked at his nose and made his skin itch. The mountain exhaled and wheezed as heated vent pockets rife with acidic steam shrouded the area in a warm dense blanket of fog.
Gabriel cautiously stepped over the ashen covered rock that jutted out from the jagged mountain floor. He groped to find the cliff walls and scrapped his hand as he looked to see Charon through the heavy mist. He strained and looked closer down the narrow channel and saw a bright reddish glow.
The Maw, he thought.
He walked closer and with every step, he could feel the heat of the Maw swipe at him. Closer he moved, and the opening to Hell's mouth loomed ever larger. The heat blistered his skin and sweat began to bead from his brow.
Where is Charon? He wondered.
The air began to move as distortions from the heat; waved, danced, and shooed away the fog. The entrance was open and unguarded, bidding welcome to all that might brave entry.
The black and yellow lined stalagmites stood and threatened oblivion to all who might travel through her teeth. Lava oozed from between the caves stalactite gums like plaque.
The heat was unbearable, and steam began to hiss from Gabriel’s boiling skin; his very flesh would be simmered alive if he dared remained much longer.
What was that?
Gabriel moved closer to the entrance, and Hell instinctually aware of angel flesh; opened her mouth to invite Gabriel in that she might savor him.
Gabriel inched closer.
Yes there he is.
Deep within the throat of the mountain: plodding and dragging his intestine of chains and anchors of bondage behind him. The great dark cloaked figure of Charon burrowed deeper into the magma and acidic bile, his destination unknown. Gabriel watched as Charon disappeared into the fiery dark and he turned to return to his brethren.
Then Hell screamed.
********************
Abaddon looked haggard. His face was pale and his eyes and extremities had turned a greenish pink. His body was a living welt, for marks from Hell’s intrusions and Charon’s lash had lacerated and decorated his frame. Scars ran across his face and back, and his once powerful wings were tattered.
Lucifer looked upon the Arelim and pitied him. Righteous anger flooded his soul, anger that a God who would dare demand fealty and righteousness would subject his own creation to such cruelty of spite.
“Ashtaroth!” Lucifer yelled.
The Issi came into his master’s bedchamber and bowed at the open door.
“My Lord?” He said.
“Tell the elders of my return to Athor and command them to bid me audience within the hour. Let them know I have returned with Abaddon and a plan for our control of Heaven.”
“Aye my Lord,” Ashtaroth said, and quickly left.
********************
Charon trudged into Hell's belly and looked to find his captive escaped. Enraged, he raised his skeletal head and roared his outrage. In fury, he lifted his hammer like fists into the air and slammed them down into the eyed floor. The eyes popped like melons thrown against concrete and Hell screamed in agony.
Charon’s eyeless skull slowly scoured the cavern to see any sign of his foe, and with maggot, infested flesh: the half man, half mount of a creature managed to utter a sound to this cousin of the Kiln. The walls of Hell's stomach bubbled in acidic retort, and magma fell back upon itself to reveal the stone and charred floor of Hell’s belly, a wound inflicted by the power of the living God to form a Ladder to another realm.
Charon lowered his equestrian nose to the floor and with nostrils that did not exist snorted to sniff out his prey, now rogue. Then a circular scar in Hell's flesh appeared: a wound that could only come from a Ladder.
Instinct drove Charon, chains shot from his body, and he latched himself in the stone floor and wall as if feeling the scar. Dredging for clues to his quarry’s whereabouts, he searched with manacled antennae and noticed something foreign on the far wall. Picking up the soft object, he eyed a tattered and charred piece of cloth of a presence alien to his prison.
A piece of robe –– a trespasser of royal b
lood––the Chief Prince.
Once more with head arched back, Charon raged into the air.
He found the scent of Abaddon. His angelic flesh was familiar to the warden, and there were still pieces’ of Abaddon’s flesh lodged in the barbs of Charon’s manacled whips. Now with this new piece of evidence, the pursuit for his captive could commence.
Charon placed the tattered piece of purple cloth in his breast and retracted his torso chains into his chest. He raised his hammer like arms into the air and struck them together. The sound reverberated within Hell's belly. He struck once more and a spark ignited for a moment, and then quickly dissipated.
Again, he pummeled his stone arms together, and again a flash ignited and then snuffed out. With a cry of rage and invocations of unintelligible retribution, Charon slammed his own arms against one another as a flint would smite a rock, and a spark ensued.
The spark morphed, and lightning suddenly filled Hell’s belly. The white light of a Ladder encircled Charon and washed him in iridescent heat. Hell convulsed and groaned her innards of brimstone, magma, and flame once more invaded by the creative power of the living God.
Crackles of lightning streaked across the chasm and arched back unto Charon. His iron and manacled body kissed and welcomed each charged embrace. Wider the electric field grew and arrayed the cavern in tentacled streams of plasma.
He raised his mighty arms of hammers and slammed them into Hell's floor, and bolts of lightning struck the cavern floor. Hell wailed, her cry soared to the ears of the denizens of Heaven itself, thunder rocketed across the sky, and all looked to see the mountain rumble and quake.
Charon pummeled the floor of the mountain once more. It cracked, and lightning walloped the spot and left its mark deeper in Hell’s flesh.
Again, he struck the ground. The living mountain screamed and wailed its disapproval and cried out in pain.
Fractures appeared, and Hell heaved as magma splashed around the mighty warden of torment. Again, he crashed his arms into Hell’s floor, and the might of his stroke broke through the charred and rocky ground and gave way.
