Legacy of Judas - Book One

by Aragon, Christian

  I'm covering these gravitational details because the Ebony Demon we pulled off Tina Marie’s father those few years ago was just arriving back in Hell to submit his situation, and himself, to the mercy of Malus. Obviously he must’ve fought the fall to have taken so long getting there, but there he was nonetheless. The Ebony Demon was about to report to Malus with the details. What this led to was worse information than we expected to obtain during this expedition as what I saw next was so incredibly brutal even by Hell’s standards.

  Malus was clearly angry with this demon for giving up his post on a mortal soul without acquiring some sort of information on the force which broke it free. Malus believed the demon to be lying about the entire event and accused it of getting soft and giving pity to the man and his daughter. As a result of this suspicion Malus decided to make an example of the demon to insure loyalty from his other Ebony Demons and contracted minions as well. But it was also obvious that Malus did not intend to let anyone think he believed this demon either way. He made up his mind about what would happen well before the demon finished explaining himself.

  Malus stood from the throne and stepped off its pedestal, and as he did so he grew in size enough so that he was able to reach out and snatch up the Ebony Demon up in his arms cradling it like an infant. Needless to say this action was unexpected and the demon was obviously distraught and confused by this, but it was just the beginning. From Malus’s skin what seemed to be thousands of tiny needles jutting into the demon’s flesh where the demon’s flesh met that of Malus’s flesh. It cried out in pain for several seconds, and then its cries became distinctively different. They became the cries of an infant child. Soon the Ebony Demon’s entire form became that of a fleshen mortal infant as Malus stepped back up to the throne for everyone to more easily see what was to come.

  Malus’s size retracted and became proportionate to the infant as would be its parent. The demon was the fleshen embodiment of a true innocent; true helplessness surrounded by the embodiment of sin and punishment. That innocent was now at the complete mercy of Malus.

  Once the demon was totally reshaped and helpless in every sense, Malus underwent another transformation into the fleshen embodiment of the infant’s mother as he became as a mortal woman, somewhat plump and with full breasts and fair features. Malus was acting as the mother of the man within the Ebony Demon; holding the little baby close to her bosom. She was caring and comforting and everything a mother is supposed to be to a newborn baby. She loved him and smiled at him warmly and he obviously felt warmth and loved and safe as he grinned back at her with his toothless little mouth. She offered a breast for him to suckle on and he fed hungrily on what he thought was mother’s milk, but we could see he was actually ingesting Malus’s own blackened essence as drops spilled from the corners of the baby’ mouth. By this time the Ebony Demon’s mind was obviously completely oblivious to its actual surroundings. The other demons looked on wondering about Malus’s ultimate intent with this lesson to be learned, the suspense and fear created from Malus changing this demon’s form so easily against its will has the lot of them and many others transfixed.

  The baby boy had his fill and pulled away from the breast. The Malus-mother took him over her shoulder and gently patted his back until he burped. Then she repeated his burping to see if there were any other gas bubbles to set free. He burped again earning her praise and further reinforcing his feeling of security while wiping away his overflow. Again the baby smiled and his mother smiled back, and that was when Malus changed again, suddenly and violently.

  Malus's fabricated mother’s face contorted and twisted. Her smile suddenly degenerated into a grotesque version of its former warm and inviting grin as her lips stretched wide and thin causing them to crack and bleed very mortal-looking blood. Unable to keep up with the growing expanse of this increasingly grotesque mouth, her bottom lip split all the way down the chin, gushing more blood and spraying the infant a bit. Her teeth grew wider, crooked, and the edges were jagged; some of them cracked into shards protruding from her now rotting and festered gums. Her mouth gaped larger and larger in the span of only seconds. The loving details of his mother’s face were all gone. They smoothed over and stretched horribly by the massive gaping mouth contorting her once loving features as it grew greater in size. The teeth chattered, crashed and gnashed together, and then opened freeing a great, dripping, human-like tongue wriggling and slinging darkening saliva all about. The infant was crying out in raw terror with tears streaming down its pudgy cheeks as the demon within was realizing it was his time. Malus didn't stop there though.

  The Malus-mother’s neck elongated, contorted, and moved like a great macabre skeletal serpent with the exaggerated grinning mouth as its head. The spinous process of all the new vertebrae in the elongated neck protruded wildly stretching and tearing the skin along the back of the neck up to the Atlas, which was now at the very rear of the misshapen skull and enlarged lower mandible. The form of the mother’s body had not changed at all. Her one breast still dripped sin from the nipple. The Malus-mom extended out her arms holding the infant in the palms of her hands as if offering a gift to the masses, but this gift was to be a lesson in loyalty and due diligence.

  The great mouth; a sickening, morbidly grinning face, opened and dripped on the belly of the boy from high above. The mouth opened wide exposing its gnashing teeth; its raw muscle, tendons, and its gaping esophagus behind the waggling tongue, and then it came down in a rush as the infant looked on completely helpless and locked in terror. The great neck recoiled from the sudden stop as the mouth clamped shut. The Malus-mom took a bite out of the boy’s body from his jugular notch down to the tops of his thighs and deep enough to leave the spine, in its full length, shards of the back ribs, and some torn muscle in its back, all exposed to the open air of Hell. The great mouth masticated the trunk and organs within openly as it rose back up. The bones of the infant, though soft, still snapped and crunched between the teeth as the tender flesh sloshed around inside the cheeks and around the gums. Half-chewed bits of the baby’s flesh fell about before the mouth had finally chewed everything enough to swallow. The large bite elongated as it started its journey down the serpentine throat. Crowds of demons were watching the gulp flow downward until finally disappearing behind her clavicles and settling into its stomach. This brought everyone's eyes to the infant’s carcass now cradled back against the Malus-mom’s bosom.

  The infant’s neck had gone limp as its head happen to turn my direction. His blood was still flowing freely from his mouth and his tears still dripping from his open eyes still wide with fear. Pain, anguish, and horror are all well-etched onto his tiny, still face.

  I wanted to throw up, but a fleshen body cannot since there isn’t anything to eat in Hell. I looked up from the child and saw the grotesque mouth still chewing smaller portions left from that first bite. Pops and cracking could be heard while blood poured out from behind the gnashing teeth. Finally it gulped down the last from the bite from boy’s now hollowed body.

  This was not just the punishment of one of Malus’s demons; this was the complete destruction of the demon. That sin-soaked soul is now part of Malus IF it still exists at all. The boy’s body showed no sign of returning to its demon form. Malus had torn the demon’s essence from the tiny body and completely devoured it. No demon who ruled Hell had ever possessed the ability to take another demon’s essence, let alone destroy it.

  While Malus was in control of the book he never really put it to use. He was too strong and needed little if any help from its pages to go after the throne. He knew only that while I was in his possession no one else could grow strong enough to overthrow him once he had taken the seat of Hell as his own. He concluded in his mind that if he didn’t use the book it wouldn’t depart from his presence if he took over the throne on his own. He was sadly mistaken. But, because of his lack of usage of the book we were never really able to look within him to see his coffer and know his essence.

  Now, after
what I had just witnessed, I had to know Malus more intimately. As my soul was not contained within a thorn bush I was able to cautiously move about, and I very reluctantly did so. I've never had cause to be afraid of a demon before, but Malus scares the shit out of me. I remained condensed and traveled the flesh-stitched scars between each of the damned all the way up to the throne where Malus stood showing off what he had done. I crept in from behind him and as gently as possible I reached out and touched him, and my senses were suddenly enveloped in complete darkness. It was darker and even colder than the shadow of God surrounding Hell. It was almost unfathomable to conceive, but I felt as if I were within sin itself. Is it possible Malus is sin? How could this be possible? There was no actual coffer of any kind. There was no trace of a fleshen form within his black mass. There was only conscious and concentrated, relentless, focused darkness.

  Judas learned every mortal emotion could be formed and shaped, combined or left pure and used as a tool, instrument, or weapon. Could it be that sin is just an emotion? Could that emotion organize itself and become a type of living form? Is this what Malus is?

  So many things don't make sense.

  I had to get back to Victoria. We all had to get back. I sent the others back before me and just as I was about to depart from the fleshen body and traverse the soul strand, I heard his voice...

  “Azeeza?”

  For just a moment I looked back to Malus; back to his blackness. I didn’t attempt to say anything, I simply stared back at him hoping what I thought was happening wasn’t. His voice broke with the gargling of flesh and blood as again he spoke...

  “I see you, Azeeza.” He laughed a horribly ominous laugh, and then cast the dead infant’s carcass in my direction. It landed within a foot or so of me, staring at me with its dead eyes. I panicked as I realized it was because I was touching him that somehow he could see me and know who I was. I pulled back from him and ascended the soul strand back to the book as fast as I could.

  Journal entry XLVI

  Victoria was curious as to why I didn’t simply show her the events we had witnessed rather than providing a narration. She sat there with an indignant look on her face as if I should've been entertaining her with visual references or special effects of some sort. I elected not to show her first hand due to the reality of the details being so disturbing. She has the information she needs including that Malus presumably knew I was there. We speculated that when I entered his form to learn more about him, he was able to feel me or otherwise sense I was there, and in turn discern who I was. It was all discussed at length and from every point of view, but time grew short and we now have the matter of the dinner invitation, and the possibility of a set-up to tear the ownership of the book from Victoria’s hands. For the time being we simply chose to hope against hope that Malus suspected the book to still be in Hell due to our encounter.

  Victoria set to planning how this evening was going to transpire, about which we protested fiercely to her entertaining the idea of accepting this invitation in the first place. Unfortunately, and as usual, Victoria has the final word and we have only the choice to accept her wishes and commands.

  But we don't have to like it.

  The dinner was still a couple of nights away. We had time to prepare, and Vic had time to ready herself, including tending to the task of putting her affairs in order for the unspoken possibility of her demise.

  Journal entry XLVII

  Vic has decided to visit Ms. Johansen ... scratch that ... Katrina, the angel.

  Vic’s thought was that she wanted to know with whom she can impart the souls she’s collected in the event she doesn’t walk out of that dinner as a mortal. She wasn’t sure if Katrina knows about Victoria’s possession of the Book of the Damned, so she went to feel her out, as she put it, to see if Katrina would be an acceptable keeper.

  It went something like this:

  Knock, knock...

  “Who’s there?”

  “Katrina? It’s Victoria ...”

  A moment of silence passed...

  “I don’t know the answer to your question, Victoria. That entire part of your consciousness is blocked from me. You’ll have to seek your answers elsewhere.”

  “Aren’t you even g...?”

  “No. I’m not going to bother letting you in. I can’t help you. Have a good day.”

  We left.

  Bitch.

  Journal entry XLVIII

  Vic’s doing a lot of paperwork today. Her Valkyries are training and going over the plan for the night of the dinner. She’s gotten blueprints for the restaurant. She knows the arrangement of the tables throughout the restaurant. She has an assigned seating arrangement for all of the Valkyries who can fleshen themselves because of the blood she provided them from her own veins. She’s even gone so far as to make sure to reserve as many table as necessary for her agents, as she’s referring to them for this. Her father is going to be questioning that credit card charge for sure! Between clothing for the Valkyries and reserving the G3:5, she's spent an incredible sum of money and made sure to leave a note explaining her evening’s itinerary. She doesn’t want to take any chances, but I’ve had to remind her she may never leave that room the same way she goes into it. I’m not sure what she’s counting on in regard to this possibility, but it had better be good.

  Journal entry XLIX

  Today Vic met with one of the few mortals, my apologies, she met with one of the few people she trusts and considers to be a friend. His name is Keith and he’s been someone Vic has known since the second or third day after moving here for college. He helps her with business details and has been there for her during several of the difficult times she’s had, including the disappearance of Vincent. He’s been respectful of her and has never tried to impose on her or otherwise make advances which would cause her to lose respect and trust for him. He’s been a genuinely good friend and she believes he’ll be true to her for the favor she has to ask of him.

  Keith was a bit baffled by her cryptic means of getting a private meeting with him. He figured instantly she was having an episode over Vincent, but he couldn’t be more wrong this time.

  “I have a tremendous favor to ask of you, but it’s indescribably important you don’t ask me any questions about this favor. Do you understand?”

  “Victoria, what’s this all about? Your tone is disheartening and the means by which you arranged for us to get together today was incredibly cloak and dagger.”

  “Please, Keith ... can you carry out this request without question or not?”

  “Y-yes. Yes I can, Victoria. At least I'll do my best.”

  “This is very simple. I’m giving you this fireproof safe and its combination. If for any reason I’m not back in one month I want you to open this safe and burn the contents. Do you understand, Keith? Please tell me you will follow these instructions and completely destroy the contents of this safe if I’m not back in one month.”

  “You’re scaring the shit out of me, Victoria. I’ll do as you ask, but if you do return you will give me an explanation for this!”

  “I’m sorry, Keith. I won’t be able to do that.”

  Keith sighed and accepted his task with no more questions or protest. The contents of the safe were nothing other than all of the contracts Vic’s fulfilled thus far. By burning them they would all be free and would not have to endure being by Vic’s side should Malus succeed in pulling off an ambush of some sort.

  Now Victoria had made all possible final arrangements. All that remained was the dinner itself. We were hopeful beyond hope it wouldn’t be a last supper before an execution scenario, but since Victoria was set on keeping her soul and finding Vincent she felt there was no other course of action but to face all of this head on.

  And so Vic readied for the events of the evening …

  Journal entry L

  To the dinner we went with heavy hearts, concentrated amounts of fear and apprehension, and no possible idea of what the evening had in store for
us.

  In we went and the Maître D’ showed us, excuse me, showed Victoria to the table which had been reserved in a private room. All about the restaurant we could see Vic’s Valkyries at their tables playing nice with the waiters and waitresses. Everything seemed to be as set as it could be.

  Vic was trying desperately not to show her nervousness, but something we’re sure Vic noticed was that the room we were led to was not in the restaurant’s blue prints.

  The room we entered only had the one doorway for ingress and egress. The room itself is very white with white furniture, chairs, dining table, even the patterns in the wallpaper and ceiling; all whites. The salad plate stacked on the main course plate at each of the three settings are a glossy black as are the eating utensils, which was pretty unusual looking sitting atop an ivory-white napkin. Of course we’re now wondering who the third set is for. Several minutes had passed when the waiter came in with a white tray, which went well with his white tuxedo, which contrasted the waiters and waitresses we saw on the way in who all wore black tuxedos. Our waiters as a very handsome young gentleman who moved with an air about him which denoted being far more experienced at this occupation than his years accounted for. He set down only a glass of ice water at each setting, glasses which were far more beautiful than perhaps water deserved, but at least the crystal they were made of wasn't white. Moments after the waters were set the waiter brought in several warm artesian breads, each wrapped in white cloth and nestled in their own crystal boat-shaped dish and with a the choice of a generous side of soft, fresh-whipped butter or seasoned extra-virgin olive oil and a dark vinegar.