The Long Night of the Gods: Lilith Awakens (Forgotten Ones Book 2)

by M. H. Hawkins

  Suspicious, Mea spun the cup around, and even its cold sides felt good against her palm. She looked at the cup then up at the girl. “Judy?” Judy smiled as she sucked at the straw of her own drink. Her drink looked good, too. Mea looked at the name scribbled on Judy’s cup. “Karen?”

  “Yep,” said Karen, with a slimy smile, “that’s me.” Watching Mea, Karen quickly realized that she wasn’t buying it, and Karen deflated dramatically. “Okay, I stole it—alright. But they’ll just make another one for Judy. No harm, no foul. Right?”

  Mea looked at the frosty drink on her desk then turned to the girl again, still suspicious—and yet, so thirsty.

  “What? I didn’t poison it. Just drink it. You know you want to.” Karen huffed, “Here.” She grabbed the drink on Mea’s desk, sipped it, shrugged, then put it back on Mea’s desk. “See?” She went back to her own drink; sipping, smiling, and playfully bobbing her head from side-to-side. “Drink it.”

  Mea hesitantly took a sip. Then she took a longer one. “Thanks. I’m Mea.”

  “Oh, I know,” the girl replied and smiled big.

  “And who are you?” asked Mea. “Now that I know that you aren’t Judy or Karen.”

  “I’m Lilly—shhh. Class is starting.”

  CH 8: Old Friends and Iron Bars

  Again Blackwell found himself sitting next to Azazel’s cell. “Is there something we can do?” he asked.

  Azazel replied by sliding a thin pamphlet across his cell and out from under his cell’s iron bars. It was a comic book: Outcasts.

  “What?” Blackwell asked. “Not to your liking?”

  “Derivative and inaccurate.” Azazel’s voice was heavy with judgement before he began floated an apple-sized fireball in his palm.

  “Can we stop it?”

  “Stop it?” Azazel asked rhetorically. What a stupid question. Azazel chuckled. Then, dismissively, he said, “Stop it? Something we can do?” Azazel paused, so that he could huff at Blackwell’s foolish ambitions. “Can a one-legged man stop a tsunami? No, there’s nothing we can do to stop it. Nothing I can think of.” He crushed the fireball in his palm, turning it into a weak puff of smoke. “Vincent, I know you remember some things from the past, and you’ve been around the block a time or two, but do you really remember?”

  “You’re being particularly and peculiarly vague. You are going to have to restructure your question into something more precise if you would truly like me to answer.” Blackwell flicked his hand in the air, and the Outcasts comic book flung off angrily into the darkness. “Or were you just asking rhetorically.”

  Azazel huffed and mocked Blackwell, “Were you always this way? Or did civilization make you this… formal. I’m talking about us, the gods. Do you remember why we’re here?”

  “Refresh my memory.”

  Azazel plucked one of his feathers, black as midnight and examined it. “Us? Well, sometime before time, before the clock started ticking, we came into existence. Before matter, before the Earth, before life. We existed… in some form or another.” Shrugging at the newborn feather, he flicked it high into the darkness above him.

  “Then, as humans appeared—from evolution, divine intervention, creationism, you know, whatever—pick your poison. That was when we evolved ourselves. Each of us slowly transformed into something, then into something else, then… into some-one else, then somewhere along the line, we became what we are today. Different personalities, different preferences, etcetera, etcetera.” The feather drifted downwards and was now only about a foot from landing. Azazel made a finger gun and tracked its drifting path. Then, he dropped his thumb, like so. A tiny stream of flames shot out of his aimed fingernail and ignited the feather. The flaming bristles landed before turning into green sprinkles before becoming ash.

  “And what’s your point?” asked Blackwell.

  “And now, we decide when the world ends. By some internal clock, we get the signal that it’s time to hit the reset button. Then, we get the call, the responsibility, for cleansing the world.”

  Azazel scuffed and adjusted his position around. “And each of us has a job. You...” Azazel observed his prison cell. He looked across the stone corridor and saw three other prison cells, all identical to his. “You lock things up. You’re a prison guard… Mea has Heaven—or whatever they’re calling it now. And me? After the whole wing ripping episode…” He plucked another feather from his wings. “I guess my job is to walk the earth.” I’m in prison, he remembered then corrected himself. “Was to walk the earth.”

  “And the others?”

  “Them? They sleep. They sleep until they wake up, when it’s time to wreak havoc. Eh, and each has their own motives or beliefs, but it always ends the same. People die, the world burns, and then it starts all over again.” Azazel slid another comic book out of his cell and over to Blackwell. Outcasts #2. “Eh, the Queen hates men, most men. The Wolf is all… the protector of nature—or whatever, and the Beast, the Dragon…”

  Blackwell grabbed the comic book just slid out from Azazel’s cell. He thumbed through the pages and gave them a fleeting glance while thinking about what Azazel had said. Each god has a role, their own motives.

  “It’s a farfetched theory but still feasible, I guess. Regardless, it is a theory that Mea has refuses to believe in.” He thought of the promise he had made her—to stop the apocalypse, if possible. “And apparently, it is a theory that I have refused as well.”

  Blackwell flung the comic book aside. Seemingly frustrated, he began fingering at one of the buttoned cuffs of his crimson dress shirt. Then he began fiddling with the other shirt cuff on his other wrist. Then, seemingly obsessively-compelled to do so, he moved on to adjusting the buttons on his suit’s cuffs.

  Azazel laughed. “You always were a sucker for her.”

  “So why don’t any of us remember—the past, the previous times.”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Some of us slept. You were down here working, locking things up. Mea, she… Until recently, I hadn’t spoken to her, not since the whole Rebellion in Heaven and the whole episode of… ‘I’m going to rip out your wings, eh,’” he said, mocking Mea.

  “Yes, and it appears that that conversation went quite swimmingly.” He flicked his fingernail against one of the iron bars and made it vibrate loudly. More sorrowful Blackwell added, “I do wish that this could have been avoided though. This whole imprisonment thing is very… unbecoming.”

  Azazel waved his hand dismissively. “Eh. Can’t fix burnt bridges or shattered wishes. And as you said, I did kill her best friend.”

  Blackwell scratched his nail against the stone floor. “Yes, you did. You could repay her, blood for blood.”

  That made Azazel laugh. “Oh, you mean let her kill my best friend? Well, that’d be you. So that might make things a little awkward, or at the very least, slightly more complicated.” Blackwell was his best friend, his only friend, but that was a long time ago.

  “Yes, I suppose it would.” Blackwell said and chuckled as well. “Then it’s back to the drawing board, I suppose. Who would have thought preventing the world from ending would be so difficult?”

  “Me,” Azazel barked. “Remember when you found me, after your reaper ran me through with his blade?”

  Raven. “Ah, yes, my rogue reaper. His time is coming.”

  “Yeah, anyways. I told you that I was going to run and hide. ‘They’re coming,’ I said. Then you threw me in here.”

  Both Azazel and Blackwell stood up and stared at each other through the prison bars. Azazel continued, “Vincent, this isn’t the comics. There isn’t any magic spell or magic sword or any other thing that’s going to save the day. Blood and power. That’s it. That’s all there’s ever been. And even though you got me locked me up in here, I wish I could help. I wish there was another way—I do. But there isn’t.”

  Maybe there is, thought Blackwell. That’s not a bad idea. Blood and power.

  CH 9: Hello

  Mea’s class lasted shorter tha
n it took for her to finish her iced-mocha. The instructor looked tired. In fact, from the look of the oversized bags hanging beneath the instructor’s eyes, she had even less desire to be there than her students. So, after handing out a syllabus and muttering her expectations for the class, it was over.

  For Mea, the twenty minutes of class—the twenty minutes she spent sitting next to Lilly, the Queen of Sorrows—were tense. While Lilly was intently listening—or pretending to listen—to the instructor and smiling through class, and smiling while the student in front of her handed her a syllabus, Mea was left staring and studying her, not knowing what to expect. Was Lilly going to kill her, kill the entire class? Was Mea strong enough to stop her? Did she even want to? Her mind raced over the thousands of possibilities, and she was focused on everything but biology.

  Then class ended. The instructor dismissed everyone, and students began clambering about, leaving. “Well,” Lilly huffed. “That was disappointing. Bye.” Leaving the syllabus on her desk, Lilly jumped up and pushed her way through the students as she left.

  What the hell just happened? Mea thought. She began fumbling at her book and papers, shoving them into her backpack. Then, after making sure to grab her icy drink, she watched Lilly turn the corner and hurried after her. Kinder than Lilly had done, Mea darted between the mingling students that were still snarling at the girl that just shoved them out of her way. She saw the back of Lilly’s head and swaying golden locks strutting down the hallway. Mea huffed, let out a full-body sigh, then half-hurried down the hallway. Trotting over the beat-up linoleum tiles of the underfunded community college, Mea caught up with her old friend.

  In the end, they agreed to settle down at a picnic table outside in front of the school’s main doors.

  “Interesting place you decided to settle in at.” Lilly said as she looked around the college campus before her eyes finally settled on a sign. She read it. “Baysville Community College… The future starts here—is that some kind of joke?”

  “Kind of—You…” Mea remembered Raven’s story. “You killed Dr. Patterson.”

  “Who?” Lilly asked, baffled by the name, at first at least. Then it hit her. “Oh! My scout. Yes, I killed him” Lilly watched the students, cattle, walk past them as her lips seductively wrapped around the tip of her straw and she took another sip of her drink. “Yes, well, I don’t particularly appreciate voyeurism.” Raven. “The reaper. I’m surprised the Dark One would send someone like that to spy on me.”

  “The Dark One? Vincent Blackwell?”

  “Vincent?” Lilly snickered. “So that’s what he’s calling himself nowadays? Well, I guess it’s a better name than Satan.”

  Mea was still thinking about Dr. Patterson and how she got him killed—Raven spying on him, that was her idea. “The reaper, Raven, I sent him.” Guilt came over her like a wet blanket. “I killed Dr. Patterson.”

  “No, I did… But, you, me, who cares who killed him. He was just a man. One man. No different than a goldfish. Do you weep when your goldfish dies? When you flush them down the toilet, is there some big ceremony?” Lilly examined Mea’s face. “Oh my god, you probably do, don’t you? Cry, that is.” Lilly giggled then huffed again. “Did you cry when you killed the fallen ones, Azazel’s followers?”

  Mea avoided the question. She didn’t feel guilty, not really. “Hey.” She grabbed Lilly’s arm and demanded answers. “Why are you here? Is it true? Is it really…” Her stomach fell into a free fall as she forced out the words. “The end of the world?”

  Lilly glared down at her captured arm (how dare you) then shook it loose from Mea’s grip. “What, the Cleansing? Yeah, it’s happening.” She gave Mea an odd look. Why’s she so serious? “The end of the world? End of Days, the Cleansing, the apocalypse, Armageddon, Ragnarok, there’s so many names for something so simple.”

  “Simple?”

  “Yeah, eliminate the wicked. Wipe the slate clean.”

  “Wipe the slate clean? You’re going to kill people. You’re going kill everyone and… end the world.”

  Again, Lilly looked at her oddly. We are going to kill people; We are going to end the world, she thought. But she all she said was, “So?”

  “It’s…” Puzzled by Lilly’s laissez faire attitude, Mea grew more anxious and nervous as her head filled with thoughts about Ryan and her mother. “You can’t do this.”

  We can’t do this. “I’m not.” We are. Lilly took a long sip of her drink and savored it. “Well, I’m not doing it alone. Me, the Wolf, the others; we’re doing it together.” Lilly observed Mea some more. She was different. Flesh, mortality, they made things complicated. The gods, they did what they wanted. Mortals, their actions were like ping pong balls—randomly bouncing around with misguided reasoning and misplaced rationalizing. A devilish grin snuck across her lips as her tongue did as well. “Why do you care? You don’t even remember the last time, do you?”

  Mea didn’t answer. Her memories were still conflicted and confusing. So, she just stared blankly.

  Lilly shook her head, and her golden locks swayed. She waved her hand lazily in the aid, huffed, then started explaining. “Mea, look. It’s the end of the world. And whether it’s us or them, who cares? It’s going to happen, one way or another. Mortals, they multiply like roaches—and then they go off and create guns. And then they use guns. And then they create bigger guns, and then they create bombs, and they use bombs, and then it’s nuclear weapons, and then and then and then.” After a deep breath and a long sigh, she continued, “They kill each other by the thousands and try to justify it by some misguided belief system. They suck the earth dry of resources like… a horde of vampires. Then, when the famines and the droughts and desolation come, then they pray, then they come begging for sympathy and mercy. So you see why this is going to happen, right?”

  Mea remained silent. She wanted to disagree but couldn’t. She felt the same way. Her hope in humanity was fading fast.

  “Look,” Lilly said. “They brought this on themselves.” Then she sipped her icy drink.

  Mea sighed. Then, looking like the saddest girl in the world, she said, “There’s got to be another way.”

  Lilly responded with her own look of sadness. “There isn’t. It’s a culling. That’s it. When a pack of wolves hunt elk, it’s the weak, the irregular, the unfit ones that are killed; so the rest can survive. It’s nature.”

  Mea’s eyes narrowed. True or not, it didn’t feel right. And the way that Lilly mentioned a wounded elk, that was how she described feeling when Azazel kidnapped her. She didn’t like it. And then, right then and there, Mea decided that she wasn’t going to accept that answer. She couldn’t. “So who decides? You? Us? With your gold coins, you decide who gets a free pass?”

  “Yes.” Lilly twirled her hand, magically revealing one of her gold coins. “We are the ones that grant free passes.”

  Mea stared at it, but it didn’t hypnotize her—not this time, not like last time. Last time, the golden coin had felt like a warm blanket on a winter’s night or like a feast to a starving man. This time, it just looked cold, and she felt nothing.

  “Look. I didn’t make the rules.” Lilly made the golden coin tumble over her delicate knuckles then palmed the coin. Then, as she flicked her hair over her shoulder, the golden coin disappeared somewhere beneath her silky golden hair. Lilly gave her shimmering mane another look then grabbed a lock of it and twirled it around in her fingers. “What? Say something. Don’t just stare at me.” Lilly huffed and was about to start chewing on the end of her hair—the strip she was twirling around—but caught herself. Stopping herself from indulging in the bad habit, Lilly huffed and flicked her hair over her shoulders again. “Is it any different than what you do? What humans do? Didn’t you save your mother’s soul, from her failed suicide attempt?”

  “That’s different,” Mea said, although she knew that it wasn’t, not really. “Wait,” Mea said, shocked and wide-eyed. “How’d you know that?”

  “When the gods s
leep, our dreams are filled with the lives of mortals. And apparently, that includes you… sometimes. Look, before you became… this.” Lilly gestured at her. “You sacrificed yourself to save a woman—a woman that you didn’t even know—from damnation. Before that, you helped the reaper. Before that, you…” Lilly grinned and licked her lips. I’ll keep that to myself, for now, she thought then changed the subject and her sentence. “Anyways… Look, I’m just saying that you pick and choose who you want to save and who to care about, just like the rest of us do. And just like the mortals do.” Lilly slurped down the last of her drink and lazily tossed the clear plastic cup at a nearby trash can. Banging into the side of it and onto the ground, the lid popped off and gray-brown ice burst onto the pavement. Whatever, I don’t even care. Lilly rolled her eyes, shook her head, and huffed.

  Observing more than anything and not really judging, Mea was still growing tire of the fake niceties and generic conversation. “Lilly, why are you here? What do you want?”

  Lilly smirked again. “Why am I here? Call it professional courtesy. I’m here to ask you to stand down, to join us. Despite what happened…” Lilly caught herself again. “I want you to join us, and I wish you would but… I already know that you’re going to say…” Lilly held out her hand towards Mea.

  “No.”

  Lilly giggled and swayed. “Exactly. Now, I go and meet up with the Wolf—who, I believe, is already expanding his pack, by the way. Then, I go find my army.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, I free Azazel—who gets his followers. And then and then and then. And then it begins.” With a big smile, Lilly happily bounced her shoulders before standing up and sliding on her oversized sunglasses. “Look, Mea. The Beast will waken. Then the dragon will stir. And then… it’s over.”

  Mea jumped up. “Wait. And what? What about me? What about Vincent?”