Lucifer's Daughter

OR

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Satan

by Dr. Bender

A Heaven and Hell tale

           

Chapter 2 – Dust to Dust

And so I found myself plummeting into Hell. Balls of fire, lava and brimstone sailed past me along with dark yellow clouds of sulfur. The ground was so far away at first that I couldn't make out any details whatsoever and then, right when I thought I was getting a handle on things, the friction between the air and my skin got to such a velocity that I spontaneously combusted.

After that, I wasn't in much of a state to be noticing anything. All I remember from that point onward was the one thought going through my mind over and over, why can't I ever take the easy road?

It was a good question and it wasn't the first time that I'd ever asked it. Why did I struggle for twenty years to become a second rate actor? Why did I spend six more years flat broke sleeping on dirt floors and taking shit jobs just to keep going for parts? Why couldn't I just suck it in and get a proper job, take the easy way out? Pride? Contrary to popular belief, you lose that pretty quick working the stage outside Hollywood.

I'd always thought that the highest compliment that an artist could ever hope to achieve was that during the time the audience was watching the stage, they might just forget how shitty life was outside for a while. A play or a movie should be a few stolen moments of sanity in an otherwise insane world, a restoration or catharsis for the masses. Opiate of the masses? No, true culture should enrich life, not replace it.

That was both the passion and curse which led me to a point of impact doing speeds that must have exceeded my accustomed terminal velocity by several orders of magnitude. I'm told that when an immortal soul hits the ground at such speeds, several strange things happen considering that he can't actually die newly arrived from Purgatory (if they did, it would deprive the torture-demons of their fun). The pseudo-corporeal body of the soul liquefies on impact, but Hell itself takes most of the blow. I can't verify that personally, however, since the first thing I remember since catching on fire was waking up in a scorched crater approximately ten feet wide and five feet deep.

"Hey, kid, you all right down there?"

I opened my eyes to see the red ruin of Hell all around me (or one of the nastier suburbs as I later found out) along with a tall dark-skinned Mediterranean man bare to the waste, the lower half of his body covered with tattered robes. His hair was black and his skin well tanned, his face covered with both a beard and a moustache. He seemed fit and wiry from long hours of work, dry black dirt covering his skin in patches.

It was at that point that I realized how damnably hot it was. If you want an idea of how hot it feels in the cooler parts of Infernus, turn an oven on high as it can go, crawl in and close the door. Yup, it's that hot. Don't bother coming to visit unless you're an immortal soul. Of course there are parts of Hell that are pleasant or even frigid, like Cania for example, but this wasn't one of them.

I was surprised that I could even think in the heat, but at least it was a dry heat. I just figured that it was a fringe benefit of being dead, it was unpleasant but bearable. Hell, it had to be. What was worrying me was the cracking sound when I tried to move. Glancing down, I realized that I was lying on a thin sheet of glass.

"Uh, yeah, I seem to be ok," I yelled back, "but, uh, I can't move. The glass is breaking!"

The man winced. "Sorry, kid, I'd help if I could but you're gonna have to get up and climb to me. I don't got no rope or nothin'."

I started to swear. I'll spare you the details of my agonizing climb out of the glass crater, but I was a bloody mess at the end of it. I'm still picking slivers of glass out from under my toenails as they work their way down.

The man wasn't alone. His companion, from what I could see through the tears gushing out of my eyes he was a short-ish man wearing an all-black uniform along with a black scarf wrapped around his head to obscure his features. The only part of his body that was exposed were two beady little eyes peering out at me from under the makeshift hood.

The bare-chested one examined my wounds while the other kept a lookout. He removed the shards of glass as quickly and painlessly as he possibly could, which wasn't much but I was grateful none the less. My wounds sealed up without even scarring, which left me frankly amazed. "Who are you people?"

The bare-chested one shrugged. "We're the Cursed, like you. Here, take a drink, this'll help the heat."

I accepted the flask and took a hit. The liquid tasted foul but the cool of it slid through my body and warded off the worst of the heat. "Bugger me! What is that stuff?" I coughed and spluttered.

"Nitroglycerine from Cania," bare-chest chuckled, "tastes like shit but it's the best thing for the heat. Think you can walk? We've gotta get out of here before the Raptors spot us."

"Yeah, I can walk… Raptors?"

"Demons, kid, trackers. They hunt from the air, like eagles, looking to spot stray souls to trade back to the torture-demons. We have to move, now."

They both hauled me to my feet and we started running… or, rather, they started running and dragged me along for the ride. Pain is very real in Hell, despite how fast an immortal soul can heal, pain so bad that you could wish for death but never receive it. I wasn't at that point but I believe that run across the planes of Infernus was the first time I'd really conceived of a possible future that included an eternity of torture. Fear lent my feet wings.

I don't know how long we ran for but it was a dashed long time, and me naked as a jaybird, barefoot across what amounted to coals. But I've never been one to make myself easy prey, so I ran as if the very hounds of hell were at my heels, which they probably were.

We stopped inside a cave which was actually cool and shaded compared to the heat of the outside. I was happy when my companions also collapsed onto the ground gasping. At least I wasn't the only one who was tired. "Well," I gasped between breaths, "if you chaps don't mind me asking, what the bloody hell is going on?"

The bare-chested one extended his hand. "Judah, Judah Sicarii. Welcome to Hell."

It took me a moment to get my eyes back into my head but I took his hand and shook it. Yes, I considered slapping it away, but who am I to cast stones? "Who's he?" I asked, pointing at the man in black.

"My friend chooses to remain nameless and won't be removing his headgear. Call him Bob, he's used to it now. He doesn't speak either. Did some pretty heinous things in life and quite a few of his victims are down here in Hell, so naturally he's a little cautious. Now, I suppose you're wondering what we're doing here?"

"Good guess," I snorted.

"Yeah, well, actually we were sent to collect you. Or, rather, I was sent to collect you and escort you back to base, commando-style."

I blinked. "Collect me?"

"Yeah, you've been sent for by the big cheese, Lady Lucifer herself. She asked me to find you and escort you back to her palace under the radar. She couldn't send a Demon for fear you'd be noticed, so she drafted me. And she could make it damn hard for me to do my job down here otherwise, so I agreed."

"Your job?" I gave him an appraising eye from my position on the floor.

"What? You don't think I'm in Hell by choice, do you?"

"Tell you the truth, no."

"Well sucks to you 'cause I am," he chuckled.

I hit the back of my head on the floor. I'd walked right into that one. "So, your dumb ass is down here by choice?"

"Yup, I guess that makes the two of us dumb asses, huh?"

"No argument from me," I sighed, "so, what the fuck do you do down here?"

"I help out Lost Souls where I can. Smuggle some Canian liquor into Infernus, ship everlasting fire back down to Cania. Heal the sick as much as I can, give some pointers, try to get them back on track. You could say I'm a preacher in Hell. There's an underground of stray souls… we can't do much other than make the lot of the Lost a little easier, but with any luck we'll do some good down here."

"And you expect me to believe that Lucifer sent you to pick me up? Hasn't he got anything better to do? Like torture your ass?"

"It's Lady Lucifer at the moment, by the way. Seraphim have both male and female aspects. But yeah, essentially. Our underground has come in useful to her a few times, so she tolerates us as long as we do her favors. And this time, you're the favor. I know what's going through your mind right now, by the way, and that's running for the hills. Trust me; you don't want to do that. Lucifer will have your soul nice or she'll take it hard. Be smart and pick nice for once in your life, she can be a real bitch when she's mad. And if you try, the two of us will hurt you, there are a lot of people counting on our success here not to end up back in the Pits. You don't want to go to the Pits, understand?"

I might be a jackass, or at least as stubborn as one, but I'm not stupid. Me vs. all of Hell, gee, let me think... what'd be the betting odds on that? "Fuck, I can hardly walk, let alone run. I'll come peacefully. Just one more thing, what's a Cursed?"

"We are," Judas pointed at the three of us, "for different reasons. People don't really curse much any more, and I'm not talking fuck this or shit that, I'm talking REAL curses… well, outside certain circles anyway. But curses have power, fulfilled by God himself... er, sometimes. Depends on the person, the phase of the moon, emotion, situation, etcetera. It's a sort of form of magic. My cloaked friend here was cursed by so many people, well, let's just say he's completely fucked if anyone finds out he's around. Your file says that the asshole rapist you killed cursed you with his dying breath… that right?"

I thought back. Fuck you, fuck you all to Hell. "Yeah. It was pretty vague, but yeah."

"Doesn't have to be exact, kid. The stars have just gotta be right. Me, I cursed myself for something I did and ended up down here. I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation, and so are the rest of us. Plain fact is, if Lucifer, the second most powerful being in the universe, wants you, you're fucked. End of story. The choice you've got to make is if you want to drag us all down with you."

I shook my head. "I said I'd come peacefully and I meant it. I don't want anyone sharing my personal Hell, I'll take it alone. I'll swear any oath you care to name."

Judah chuckled. "Forget that, I believe you. Well, back on our feet, guys, we've got a long road and it ain't getting any shorter lying here."

It took me a lot longer to get back on my feet than my captors, which disabused the last little voice in my head that was screaming for me to run. I summoned up decades of indoctrination into the British stiff upper lip that didn't seem to quite apply to me any more. I was under no illusions that either of these men would do a lot of things to keep themselves and their friends safe and I couldn't blame them.

We didn't go back out into the heat, thank you-know-who, we took the caves. I had to take Judah's word that we were 'sticking to the backroads' since one lava-filled cavern looked just like another to me. Several times we had to duck under cover to avoid passing columns of devils leading chained souls. These devils were giants, over twelve feet tall, with enormous bat wings, thick scales, razor claws and needle-sharp teeth, only roughly humanoid. Great muscles ripped with every step, belying the power of their frames.

"Conugons," Judah whispered to me once we were well away from one of these groups, "the new minions of Ares since he took over as Demon Prince of War. Rumors are, Ares did a deal with a Dragon and infused regular mortal souls with their power. God knows how the fuck he managed that one, Tiamat's brood aren't the most placid of creatures. They say the things have been so successful that Lucifer's given them permission to police the City of Brass while her Hell Maids pull back into the palace proper. I didn't believe the rumors, but if they're here…"

"Woah, woah, woah," I whispered as low as I could, "you mean we've gotta get through those things?"

"Calm down. Yes, probably a pack of them with Hellhounds that can track down stray souls by scent. But that doesn't matter, because I've got a plan."

"Oh, you've got a plan, everything's all right then."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Yes."

"Quaint. Look, all demons are pretty much the same. All of them will kill you somehow. But, if there's one thing every boarder guard ever given a badge is open to, it's bribes. And I've got an offer none of these schmucks can refuse, got me?"

"Yeah, like what?"

"Sorry, trade secret."

I asked him several more times in the days we were stuck wandering through those endless caverns but he wouldn't budge. Our companion remained silent, so Judah and I got to talking about a lot of things; philosophy, pop culture, trivia, anything to keep our minds off the pain in our limbs, and then only when we could afford to rest. We emerged from the caves on the third day at the edge of the City of Brass and I'm not sure I can adequately describe the metropolis with just words but I'll give it a shot.

Like the name suggests, the entire city is made out of brass, but the metal was so hot that it gleamed like gold under the burning sun and shimmered like a jewel in the waves of heat that snaked into the air overhead. The towers that composed the city came in every conceivable shape and size; square and round; short and tall; peaked, flat or domed. I could see that the giant towers were composed of enormous sheets of brass shaped and riveted into place over some form of skeleton. Demons walked between the buildings on streets, over skywalks, drove demonic machines of all shapes and sizes and flew from rooftop to rooftop. Some spider-like things could even crawl up the sides or swing from webs, oblivious to the heat. Smog blanketed the city like black fog, belched fourth from the demon vehicles and great factories that dotted the city, choking the inhabitants and obscuring vision.

Crowds of souls were crammed into the streets or spewed fourth from the great gates at ground level far below us. Garbage in, garbage out. Great beasts the size of houses herded the souls with spiked shepherd's crooks and dragging long strings of them chained to their belts. Directing the slave-herders was a relatively normal-looking man in red armor astride a black steed, though I couldn't make out the details of his form at this distance.

Above the shit rose what I could only assume was Lucifer's Palace, a great golden edifice covered in flowers of all things. I was betting that they were some sort of demonic killer mutant flowers, or maybe Triffids. Demons still swarmed about the place and I saw several gigantic fire-spewing dragons clamber around the buildings and towers, moving from place to place for reasons of their own.

"Dis, The City of Brass," Judah introduced us, grinning like a maniac, "never will you find a more retched hive of scum and villainy."

I almost busted a gut; my silent companion had to cover my mouth with his gloved hand, giving Judah a stern and reproachful look.

Judah's mouth twitched involuntarily. "Sorry, I know this is no time for jokes. Come on, you're going to need some shoes."

Their organization, as planned apparently, conveniently cashed some clothes for me near the exit on the slope of a mountain. When I asked why they couldn't have brought clothes with them, Judah simply shrugged and said it wasn't possible to get them that quickly. I was dubious but I wasn't about to look the horse in the mouth yet again, being clothed once more was too much of a boon. Death's business card had somehow survived through it all and, honestly, I'd forgotten that I was even carrying it all that time. With clothes, I was able to stash it into a pocket, for which I was more grateful than even the shoes.

Once I was dressed, we moved on towards the city, staying low and sticking to the shadows, but I couldn't help staring at our destination. Something just seemed off about it, like every time I looked something was different and I couldn't quite place it. Then I noticed it. "Hey," I whispered through gritted teeth, "that thing's moving away from us. The city is moving!"

"Well, duh," Judah whispered back, "you don't expect Lucifer to stay put do you? She moves the city where she wants it to go. All the comforts of home, abroad. None of the drawbacks… like vulnerability to assassination attempts. Lucy's smart enough to know just because something's impossible doesn't mean it can't happen. Speaking of impossible, that's our gate."

I followed where Judah was pointing and probably would have soiled myself if I'd had anything to eat since I'd died. The gate was guarded by a legion of Cornugons, each twice the size of the ones in the tunnels.

"What the fuck sort of steroids are those things on?" I grimaced.

"They probably get tougher as they get older, like real dragons. Not a problem, just follow my lead, I've got some pull here." Judah took a deep breath and stepped out into plain view.

I swore but I followed, holding out my hands in the same open-palmed gesture to show we were unarmed. Bob followed reluctantly, holding his hands in the air. It didn't take long for the Cornugons to spot us, orders were bellowed and a score of them took to wing, headed in our direction.

"Just keep cool and don't do anything unless I say," Judah mumbled from the side of his mouth while trying to keep the ingratiating smile on his face, "Bob, you're with me. Rowe, stay here."

Judah and Bob took a few more steps forward. The Cornugons hit the ground around us in a circle, menacing us with flaming tridents and pitchforks. The largest of the beasts landed in front of Judah, growling. "What is thy business, traitor? Lucifer's prohibition protects you from our wrath but we can still bar your entry."

"Hold, mighty one," Judah bowed, still keeping his eyes up and his hands in sight, "I bring a gift to you in return for safe passage. Gift enough to bring glory upon your entire squad, and you personally will be showered with praise from on high."

The Cornugons all shifted uncomfortably, intrigued but not sure whether to believe it.

"What is this gift? SPEAK!"

Judah glanced back at me. "I bring you a stray soul from the planes of Infernus…"

I started to back away, suddenly seeing what a fool I'd been, but the heat of the flaming pitchforks at my back stopped my in my tracks. I was trapped, with nowhere to go, a damned fool.

"…I bring you… HITLER!"

Screaming the name, Judah jumped on Bob and ripped open his scarf, revealing his face for all to see. I gaped at the face, unchanged from the old black and white films complete with the trademark moustache except for a burning Jewish star branded to his forehead.

"HIIIIIIITLER!" The Cornugons all roared as one, exultant. The tridents pulled back as one of them lifted the dead dictator off of his feet with one hand, the huge fist pinning his arms to his sides as he swore vehemently in rapid German.

"YES! Lady Lucifer will reward us all for this one! He has escaped us for so many years…" The sergeant Cornugon babbled continuously for a few minutes as he congratulated himself on such a brilliantly executed recapture of one of Hell's foremost lost souls and recounted to each of his men EXACTLY how the capture had come about at great danger to themselves. Hitler didn't seem like that much of a threat to me but I was too busy cursing the fact that I'd never get a chance to deck him personally. "I grant you both passage! Now go before I decide to arrest you as well!"

So much for gratitude.

Hitler swore at us in German as we ran for the open gates before one of the demons decided to close them anyway. I became immediately aware of why I needed shoes, all of the floors and streets in the whole city were made of brass too. Some of the lost souls we passed trying to get through the gates had worn their feet down to charred stumps, screaming with every step. I averted my eyes to find Judah doing the same, tears flooding down his cheeks. I understood; we were powerless to help them.

Despite myself, or maybe it was brought on by the horrors around me, I almost felt a twinge of pity for 'Bob'. Almost. If just walking through the streets was torture enough for a lost soul, what would the REAL tortures of Hell be like? I didn't want to know, but if anyone deserved it, it was 'Bob'.

"For a minute there," I said as Judah led me down some stairs away from the light of the streets, "I thought you were going to throw me to the sharks. Where in Hell is this place?"

"This is a Taxi," Judah pointed at a faded sign that was practically illegible, but it had a few yellow flecks of paint on it. Pausing, he wrapped his left fist up in some loose scraps of his robe and pounded on the scalding metal door. "A demon that owes me a favor."

The door opened and for a moment I didn't think anyone was there until I looked down and say the short bat-winged imp smoking a fat cigar that had an old taxi driver's hat perched rakishly atop his horns. "What the fuck do you want this time?" He greeted without preamble. His voice rasped as if he'd spent too many years drinking and smoking. He had a pot belly, so maybe he had.

"What the fuck do you think I want, you mean old bastard? I want a ride to the Palace." Judah gave back as good as he got.

The little demon groaned before he noticed me. "Who's the kid?"

"Rowe, meet Digger. Digger, you've never seen Rowe in your life."

Digger grunted. "Ok, I could use the grease with the big shots. Get in here."

He slammed the door shut behind us and I was amazed at how neat and tidy it was inside. It was actually fit for a family of pigs; with plenty of mud that I suspected was rendered-down mold and fungus like what was growing out of the walls. The heat certainly didn't seem to bother the fungi. In the middle of the mess was a relatively clean table with several chairs and a rusted, spiked, yellow vehicle that looked to be a cabin strapped to a jet thruster held together by a liberal dose of yellow paint. The front of the vehicle was adorned with spikes that seemed to be coated in dried blood.

"Well, hop in," Digger kicked the side to open the door before flapping into the pilot's seat. "Back entrance of Lucifer's Palace, yeah?"

"That's right," Judah agreed as we took our own seats. I dug around the leather looking for a seatbelt but I couldn't find any.

"Ok, unless you've got horns, hold onto your hats."

I was about to point out that we didn't have hats when the infernal machine rocketed straight up into the air at a speed that would have broken any mortal neck. I was pushed back into my seat so hard that it felt like I had a cow sitting on my chest. I watched as Judah's beard was suddenly plastered to his skin as he hung on for dear life.

The first thunk as we barreled into one of the flying creatures that swarmed around Dis made me wince as the insectoid was impaled on the spikes. Digger leaned out and yelled at the top of his lungs, "HEY, I'M DRIVIN' HERE, I'M DRIVIN' HERE!"

He had to activate the windscreen wipers after the next thunk to clean the blood off the windshield. Next thing we knew, we were screaming as vision revealed that we were headed straight for one of the towers. Digger span the wheel just in time to bump my side door, denting the bodywork but otherwise allowing us to continue unharmed.

From that point on, I just closed my eyes and hung on for dear life, ignoring all further noises and screams.

We didn't die again and when the two of us crawled out the door onto land, we both dry retched at the earth.

"Hey, any time Judah," Digger cackled after us as he took off into the sky.

"Are we safe?" I asked, more wondering if it was ok to open my eyes yet.

"Safe as anywhere in Hell, kid. Come on, you've got an appointment to keep and I'm sick of Dis already."

I noticed the smell before I opened my eyes. The air smelt like rotting flesh. When I did whip up the courage to view the scene, I was relieved that there weren't any dead bodies lying around. The scent came from the gigantic thorny orchids that enwrapped Lucifer's palace, their white faces all basking in the sun. We were on a ledge in the middle of a cliff high above the city, the wind trying to pull us into the air by our clothes. But try as I might, I couldn't see any way off the cliff.

"What do we do now?" I yelled over the wind.

Judah pointed at the cliff face. "Secret door. Don't touch the plants!"

I nodded and followed his lead, stepping over the foot-thick stems, between the equally long thorns. Judah came to the cliff face first and rapped on the rock in a particular pattern, pausing several times while counting off something under his breath. Finally, the rock flowed apart, opening a dark cavern leading to rough-hewn steps leading up. I entered right behind my companion and the rock-face closed behind me, taking with it the ambient howl of the wind. "At the risk of being obnoxious, what the heck are those flowers?"

Judah grinned. "I don't mind answering questions, that's the easy part. They're Guardian Orchids, they suck up the pollution so that Lucifer's Palace stays clean and bright. They're also carnivorous…"

"Are there any herbivores in hell?"

"Oh, yes, the ones who eat evil vegetarians."

I slapped myself on the forehead. "I had to ask. But wouldn't that make them carnivores anyway?"

"Not after they get transmuted into plant demons…"

We walked up the steps. And walked, and walked, and walked. Imagine Walking to the top of three Empire State Buildings by the fire stairs, that's basically what we did with only a few rest stops along the way. To my surprise, there was someone waiting for us at the top.

She was at least seven feet tall and very pretty in a rough, Olympian, way with visible muscles flexing whenever she moved, though they were smoothly feminine rather than those of a female body builder. She was wearing what I can only describe, for lack of better terms, as a suit of glittering chain mail over a black leather shift that ended in a short, flared, skirt that barely covered her bottom. The giantess was also carrying one of the biggest bloody swords I'd ever seen, and I could see the hilts of numerous knives sticking out from almost every possible angle as well as the head of what appeared to be a small (for her) battle axe.

Yes, she was a Heavy Metal artist's wet dream incarnate.

"Sylvanna," Judah puffed and nodded, "you've got the item I negotiated for?"

The Amazon nodded, producing a bundle of cloth that she quickly unwrapped, revealing a plain wooden spoon. "Fae Spoon," she added, "feed a thousand men a day, aye. You got 'im 'ere den?"

Judah slapped me on the shoulder. "Rowe Welburn, this is my last introduction for you. Meet Sylvanna, Captain of the Hell Maids. She'll escort you from here on. The spoon?"

Sylvanna handed the spoon over and Judah turned away to head back down the steps.

"Hey," I called after him, "you be all right to get out of the city?"

He turned and smiled at me. "Thanks for the concern but it's far easier to get out of this hellhole than it is getting in. I'll be fine, worry about yourself from now on."

"Judah," I stopped him from leaving one last time, "uh, thanks."

He sighed and shook his head. "Don't thank me for this, my friend, don't thank me."

Sylvanna placed one hand on my shoulder and I let him go down the steps. "Cae here, little man," the giantess leered at me, her grip on my shoulder strong as any vise, "we've got a' appointment tae keep, don't you know?"

"Uh, actually, no, Judah was sketchy on the details, Ms. Sylvanna."

"Well now you know. So move it."

Her 'gentle nudges' span me almost a hundred and eighty degrees, so I was more herded through the golden hallways of the palace than I was led. We emerged into the palace proper through another secret door and began ascending in fits and starts once again without seeing another soul for the entire journey. The halls were carpeted in the finest red cloth I'd ever seen and the walls were decorated with artworks of simply masterful craftsmanship. Every inch of even the most inconsequential nook and cranny was designed to be the most aesthetically pleasing it could be.

I got the impression that we weren't taking the main halls to our destination, though they were wide enough for two people to walk abreast, it struck me that Lucifer's Main Hallway would be somewhat grander.

"Captain," I inquired politely, "do you mind if I ask you where we're going?"

"No," came the stern reply.

I waited for the answer but none seemed to be forthcoming. "Um, then, where are we going, Captain?"

"Mind yer own damn business!" Sylvanna smiled evilly. I was starting to feel a pattern to the sense of humor of the denizens of Hell.

After taking so many turns through a veritable maze of corridors, we finally came to a door guarded by two women who could have been Sylvanna's sisters. I was guessing that these were the fabled Hell Maids that Judah had referred to before, and I had to admit they did look to be a formidable bunch. Of course, I wouldn't expect any less from Lucifer's personal guard.

They saluted Sylvanna and their Captain saluted back in turn, still keeping one hand on my shoulder. They didn't say a word, simply opening the door for our entry. We were immediately assaulted by the dull roar of a crowd and as we entered, I had to keep a tight clamp down on my mouth before I could say or do anything embarrassing or stupid, like screaming like a little girl.

The room was an emporium of demons, a circular room surrounded by tiers of seats divided into boxes. The main floor was occupied by an enormous round table, at the head of which was an enormous throne composed of human bones (proving that the classics are always the best). The rest of the room was carved from glassy obsidian, making the whole room a dark mirror that reflected the images of the occupants endlessly and the space appear infinitely enormous though it couldn't possibly be so.

Sylvanna guided me down to the front row and into a box labeled with an ornate stone tablet that read: Captain Sylvanna and Guest. The grossly fat demon sitting in the box next to us glared at me with red eyes inset into a pale, blobby, head with no neck and grinned with a maw composed of thousands of rows of needle-like teeth. The rest of him looked like a slug, without legs or arms. "Bring a snack with you, Captain?"

"Baron," Sylvanna nodded to him, "I'm afraid this one's off limits. He is here at Lucifer's request."

The Baron looked at me and shuddered in ecstasy. "Ooooh, my, the personal whipping boy of Lady Lucifer herself? Who'd you kill for that honor, boy, the President of the United States? Or someone powerful?"

I kept my mouth shut and stared at the floor, trying not to shiver. The Baron was looking at me the same way a hungry man looks at his dinner and I really didn't like the shift in perspective.

"No nae to torment this one so, Baron," Sylvanna laughed politely but not like her heart was in it, "well 'e knows 'is fate."

Chuckling, he bade the Captain a good day and turned his attention back to the floor. It took me a few minutes to whip up the courage to look around myself. The galleries were filled with representatives from what must have been thousands of demonic varieties, ordered it seemed by rank from closest to the center table to the outermost ring. Demons tall, short, thin, fat, beautiful and grotesque all rubbed shoulders, smiled like sharks, bickered, fought and gossiped together.

I noticed several 'familiar' faces from my readings. Three women in one gallery across from us appeared to be beauties and all wore veils, yet the nest of snakes that was their hair betrayed their origins. Ugly women with wings for arms and taloned bird's feet perched behind them. Enormous brutes with tiny, leather-masked, heads crowded into yet another gallery as they fingered their heavy blunt instruments of murder. Several demons that appeared to be 18^th century aristocrats with razorblades for fingers wandered up and down the stairs looking for their box. Tentacled creatures that boiled and bubbled, constantly growing, dying and reforming themselves over and over babbled incoherently behind us.

And I'm just touching on a few of the highlights. If you want a quick overview of every Demon in hell, spend your life studying demonology and you might have a tiny inkling of what's in store for you in the afterlife.

Of more immediate concern to me were the figures who sat at the luxurious center table. Directly in front of us I could see the back of one of the most ravishing creatures God had ever unleashed on the world. Her hair was flame red and seemed to writhe of its own accord. Her black gown was scandalous yet I, or any other masculine entity, wasn't about to complain. The back of her throne had the word 'LUST' engraved on it and I had to agree, just from the back she was lust worthy.

Yes, I'm a horn dog, you knew that remember?

She sat on the right hand side of the throne of bone. To the left sat a man in spiked black armor armed with so many weapons that his arsenal eclipsed Sylvanna's. He was raven-haired and classically Greek in aspect, with that particular shape of the nose made so famous by ancient craftsmen. I first noticed him because he seemed to be waving in our direction and my companion's reaction was rather painful. Her hand stiffened as it gripped my shoulder until I thought I could hear my bones crackling.

I looked up at her and found her blushing profusely. "Captain, please!" I hissed as quietly as I could.

She looked at me and her grip loosened, fighting back the blush to affect a scowl. "Don't whine, it wae just a little squeeze, meat!" She leaned in close to my ear. "Mention that to anyone and I'll snap your neck. It won't kill you, but you'd be amazed how inconvenient that can be fer a century or two."

I'd never intended to ever piss off Captain Sylvanna and I resolved in that moment to never even contemplate it for the rest of eternity, assuming I'd last that long.

Next to the armored Greek warrior were two devils that could have been brothers. Both were handsome men in dark business suits. One, however, was thinner than the other, and seemed slightly feminine like the Japanese ideal of the 'bishounen' or 'beautiful boy'. His wings were jet black like a raven's and the halo that hung over his small horns crackled with black energy. The other was by no means fat, just thicker and more heavily muscled. His body and face was all masculine, hard edged and strong. His horns were much larger and ornate, however, and he lacked the black halo over his head. His wings were a mottled grey, much like a pigeon's.

The final pair that completed the arc of the circle were mismatched. The first appeared to be nothing more than a large furry sack with eyes, like a possessed hand puppet only on a larger scale. It wheezed with every breath, two tiny red eyes glaring out from under the fur over an enormous mouth that seemed to take up the rest of its bulk. The last of the Demon Princes at the table was asleep; his snores more than a little annoying to his compatriots on either side. The body of the demon was naked, corpse-like and shrunken. Matted grey hair encapsulated him like a cocoon so that the only real details that could be made out were his thinness and the ghastly, featureless, face. Jutting from the masses of hair were a great many ragged, brown, bone spikes that looked like teeth. Staring at the form, I realized that I was unconsciously labeling the demon as a 'him' for no valid reason; there was nothing to indicate the creature's gender either way.

"Who are these… things?" I whispered to the Captain. I was rewarded for my curiosity with another bone-cracking squeeze. "Show sae respect fer your betters, puny one. They be Demon Princes and Princesses of Hell, 'an members of the current Council of Hell, yer betters. Dae red-haired one in front of us be Lillith, Princess of the Succubae. Next to her, the furred one, is Haagenti, Prince of Gluttony. Then Meserach, Princess of Sloth, be the spiky one. The horned angel with the grey wings is Mammon, Prince of Greed, along with his hated brother and compatriot, Asmodeus, Prince of Envy. Between those two, they run the day-to-day business of damnation."

"And the… Greek gentleman in armor?"

"Ares," Sylvanna spat, "Demon Prince of War. And yae, before ye ask, 'ees used to be the Greek God of War before the Amalgamtion."

I gulped. "These are all the Demon Princes of Hell?"

Syl snorted. "Nae, not by a long shot, just the ones currently called into council. Lady Lucifer likes to keep an iron grip on Hell's dealings and between these six Princes and Princesses there's not much going on in Hell they don't know about or have influence over. About the only real big-shots that ain't here are Baal, Mab and Kronos, the former two because they've been exiled to their Precincts, the latter because the Demon Prince of Entropy hae better things to do… harken, she comes."

Two giant double doors faded into existence from nowhere. The golden portal was covered in frescoes that depicted a great angel standing triumphant over a field of the dead holding the severed head of an old, bearded, man aloft. The doors cracked open and pure white light spilled into the room. Emerging from that light was a robed figure, tall and thin swathed in red and black silks that trailed behind him as he poled himself forward with a black staff capped with skulls. Many prehensile tentacles peeked out from under his volumous sleeves rather than hands or fingers. His head was split in two, mounted on separate necks so that one insectoid eye could be angled in whatever direction he required. One half of his face was fixed in a permanent rictus grin, the other frozen in a heart-wrenching frown.

"The Demiurge," Sylvanna identified the newcomer to me, "the Master of Ceremony."

He raised his staff and bashed the butt against the obsidian tiles, setting the skulls atop it to screaming. He certainly knew how to attract attention; the whole auditorium went dead quiet.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Barons and Baronesses, Counts and Countesses, Dukes and Duchesses and Great and Noble Princes and Princesses. All rise for Her Hellish Majesty, Little Horn, The Lightbringer, The Morning Star, LADY LUCIFER, SATAN!"

(continued)

Everyone stood as a cold wind whipped through the room. Reality itself seemed to shudder as a black speck formed over the throne of bones at the head of the central table. The speck expanded into a globe of night and stars from which SHE descended.

She was a goddess incarnate. Her very from was perfection itself, the ultimate beauty of which all others, mortal and immortal, are pale shadows. She was so beautiful, so perfect, her bearing so charismatic and confident that she made me feel inadequate and small. She was fire and light and all things to all men and her very glance could make the most devout homophobe a raving lesbian. Try to imagine the most beautiful woman, your perfect mate, and then try to imagine something better. That is Lady Lucifer, always better than your imagination.

I can tell you that she was all woman, perfection of form incarnate. I can also say that she was a blonde and that her pure white wings shed a golden light over the entire assembly. She wore a gown of red that looked like it could be made of blood and rubies, transparent yet refractive enough to only hint at the detail beneath. What I cannot give you is a true description; she simply defies all conventions of language.

She floated down onto the Throne of Bone as we all stared at her in awe, even the Princes and Princesses close by. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. It was much later that I discovered that this wasn't the full effect of Lady Lucifer's majesty, not by a long shot, in fact she was toning it down out of consideration for her lessers. She crossed her long legs which the gown displayed to full view and dimmed her radiance down to a level more manageable for conversation.

She paused for a minute, looking over all of us standing before her, taking in every face with a quick glace. As her eyes passed over me, I thought I saw her mouth crook into an amused smirk, but maybe I was hallucinating. I fought very hard not to fidget in that long moment as Lady Lucifer reveled in her power for the crowd's benefit before she addressed us. "Greetings, everyone, please be seated."

There was a collective outburst of breath as the crowd lowered themselves back into their seats. I think, for a moment, every being in the room, mortal or demon, wondered if she was going to allow us to sit or order all our executions on a flight of whimsy.

"Now," Lady Lucifer clicked her red talons at the Demiurge behind her, "what's the first item on the agenda?"

"Your Hellish Majesty, Lord Ares would like to make his report."

"Oh, goodie," Lucifer clapped her hands like an eager schoolgirl, "are the Cornugons panning out for you, dear?"

Ares smiled and stood. "Lords and Ladies, I am pleased to report that the new Cornugon Template has been so successful in battlefield trials, thanks to the combined efforts of Myself, Lady Lucifer, Lady Tiamat and Lord Vapula, we are looking to roll out into full production by the end of the century. For those of you who have come in late, the Cornugon is a melding of the old Calabite template with Draconic power, creating a soldier that not only has vast destructive potential, but has the intelligence to use such power effectively and precisely…"

Ares' speech quickly devolved into reports on mock battles and troop movements as well as deployment strategies in and around the City of Dis. From there he moved on to mortal affairs centering on African and Middle Eastern conflicts, particularly the Iraq war and his agent's efforts to destabilize the peace process between Palestinians and Israelis.

"My only ongoing concern," Ares came to in the end, "is that the commercialization of the American Army will slowly kill their fighting spirit."

Mammon sighed and stood. "If I may address this concern once more, the export of luxury products for use by soldiers benefits both of our organizations by bringing the perview of supply trains into the corporate business structure and aiding in recruitment…"

"That may be, but it's no way to fight a war," Ares scowled, "what happened to discipline and deprivation? The will to win? These kids are getting the crap blown out of them by IEDs then going home to eat ice cream. ICE CREAM!"

Sylvanna snorted.

"I understand my colleague's purist definition of war, but civilization has come a long way since the time of the Spartans…"

"One of the greatest axioms of war," Ares interrupted, "is that an army fights on its stomach. If future conflicts must rely on civilian transportation to bring soldiers their food then the whole point of war loses its meaning. War is about suffering and hardship and pain and blood and fighting through all of it in order to emerge victorious! Ice cream is not a hardship; a warrior should drink the blood of his enemies and feast upon their flesh!"

There were several cheers from the audience, including Sylvanna, while Haagenti stood up. "I agree with Lord Ares on this point, as I have made well known in the past. The development of a warrior class amongst the humans trained to eat their slain enemies would promote both the image of War and Gluttony. While I usually have no problem with the distribution of luxury food items to anyone, soldiers do not tend to grow fat and complacent on such things, at least not to the extent that I would like."

Lady Lucifer held up her hand and her congregation immediately fell silent. "I understand your concern, Lord Ares, but I will point out that this phenomenon is limited to the American army and that humans by and large, particularly in this day and age, look down upon cannibalism. Once democracy falls by the wayside once more on Earth and humanity turns back to the old ways we can consider the creation of a new warrior class but until then, I'm willing to allow Mammon to continue his experiments with the Americans. Next on the agenda?"

The Demiurge cleared his throat. "The recent increase in Bathorians, Lady Lillith has more to report on the subject."

Lillith stood and nodded to Lady Lucifer, who returned a genuine smile. "My friends, my Succubae have been bringing back increasingly alarming reports of nighttime competition from rogue elements on Earth. Over the last year, reports of encounters with Bathorians have been on a steady increase, indicating that a powerful Demon is involved. Recent inquiries have led us to believe that this is not a plot hatched in Hell, oh no, but one placed into motion by an as yet unidentified Rogue."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"For those of you who are unfamiliar with Bathorians, allow me to give you a quick overview. Bathorians are monsters created from mortals originally by the Demon Prince of Vanity, in a ritual that includes bathing in the sponsoring demon's blood. The mortal, male or female, emerges from the ritual as a beautiful woman with a thirst for blood and a hunger for flesh that combines the worst aspects of Vampires and Ghouls, though a Bathorian is not a member of the Undead. Unlike Vampires these creatures cannot hide amongst the general population taking a little blood at any one time, nor can they feed on the flesh of the interred dead in the manner of Ghouls, which makes them dangerously indiscreet. Vampires in particular despise the Bathorians, both as a mockery of their own curse and as competition for food and resources.

The first Bathorians were, of course, Elizabeth Bathory and her handmaidens. Through their executions we know that if a Bathorian is cut off from the sponsoring Demon's power and is unable to anoint themselves with a Demon's blood, the strength of the ritual fades and the Bathorian becomes mortal once more and will die soon after. In order to kill a Bathorian in her prime, however, it is necessary to remove their fingers or hands before burning their bodies to ash. Otherwise, like Vampires, they will regenerate to full strength in a matter of days.

Bathorians are always exquisitely beautiful women. The ritual perfects their bodies and grants them a measure of unholy power, gifting them with unnatural strength and dexterity. In addition, they can manifest rending maws of fangs anywhere on their bodies, though their own mouths seem to be a favorite tactic. The Bathorian's exquisite beauty and vanity means that they do not blend in well with normal humans and are more likely to set themselves up in industries where beauty isn't as uncommon, such as the fashion or film industries.

The current outbreak seems to be centered around the New York area and Manhattan Island. While a coven of Bathorians is usually a small group of 3 to 6 members centered around a single Demon, this group of Bathorians is actively recruiting, indicating that they have the backing of either a single demon of immense power or several demons at once.

Despite our best efforts, my Succubae have been unable to penetrate deep into the organization due to a complex labyrinth of cut-offs and misdirection as well as magical assistance. In addition, several of the Bathorians have managed to infiltrate both the Hellish and Heavenly power structures, so removal while maintaining secrecy has become that much harder."

"Now, Ladies and Gentlemen," Lillith continued, "before we start throwing mud and placing blame, I would like to point out that even Lady Lucifer's much-vaunted Sedu have been unable to unearth any more than my Succubae. And my daughters have risked much to gain what little information we have."

"It is still intolerable," Mammon snorted, "I was going to bring this issue up myself. These Bathorians are muscling in on corporate business, using their charms to lead the mortal thralls on both sides astray. Diabolical fashionistas are selling their Taiwanese sweatshops to Marc's goons, who in turn aren't doing anything to improve the lot of their employees. They're disrupting lines of communication. It's like the whole industry's gone mad. And I can't make any overtures to their group without pissing off the Vampires. Seriously, if I wasn't holding them back, there'd be a blood war in the streets! The Vamps are going rabid."

Haagenti shrugged. "Can't we just assassinate them and get it over with?"

Ares shook his head. "A bloodbath on that scale would be noticed."

"Particularly considering that several of the Bathorians are local celebrities," Lillith added, "unlike Vampires who have heavy restrictions to their movements which prevent them from taking the public eye for the most part; Bathorians can work during the day. One of them is even a highly placed news reporter."

"Disturbing," Lady Lucifer pouted, "I think we need Orcus and Belial in on this. Demiurge, if you please."

The Demiurge closed his eyes for a moment, then banged his staff on the ground again. "Would the galleries please rise to greet Belial, Lord of the Incubi, Prince of Vanity and Patron of Vampires! Please also welcome the artist formerly known as Prince Hades…"

"Demiurge," Lady Lucifer said the one word which was warning enough.

"Pardon me. Please also welcome Orcus, Prince of the Undead!"

The two new figures that appeared seated at the table on slightly smaller thrones that were brought for them by a brace of Imps were as mismatched as Haagenti and Meserach. Belial was the living embodiment of tall, dark and handsome while Orcus appeared as an obese humanoid goat. An angry humanoid goat.

"Lady Lucifer," Orcus growled, "I demand that your major domo be thrown into the pits for a tenday for that remark!"

"Oh, please," Lady Lucifer rolled her eyes, "do lighten up, Prince Orcus, there are more important matters to discuss than your vanity. Speaking of which, I did think that your old form is more suitable to table negotiations…"

Scowling, Orcus shook himself. His form seemed to shrink down into hard muscles and his snout receded into a handsome Greek face. Ares smiled. "Good to see you again, old boy, we should have a drink sometime and reminisce."

Orcus grinned back. "Good old times. Now, what's the problem?"

"We were just discussing this new outbreak of Bathorians…"

Belial growled. "Oh, that lot. My Vampires have been yelling and screaming at me to do something for months. I keep saying back 'hey, if you can't deal with competition yourselves…' but do they listen? No, they seem to be convinced that this is all somehow MY fault. Like I've got juice over every other Demon in creation…"

"Bitch sessions aside," Asmodeus scowled, "the effectiveness that these Bathorians are displaying is becoming quite alarming. That an operation of this scale to disrupt the dealings of both Heaven and Hell in New York, of all places, means that there has either been a global breakdown in competency OR there is an insider highly placed in the command structure facilitating the plot. I propose that all powers in New York be frozen and my secret police take charge of the investigation…"

Mammon was halfway out of his seat, eyes bugging out. "FREEZE NEW YORK OPERATIONS? Are you mad? You'll plunge the world economy into a depression! Governments would have to regulate whole Corporations, it's unthinkable! People will stop trusting big business! You'll set back the damnation of humanity by centuries!"

"I agree with Mammon," Lady Lucifer interrupted before things could get bloody, "complete intercession would be an overreaction at this point. These Bathorians are a thorn in our sides, not a machete. Has anyone contacted Marc as yet?"

Mammon sank back into his chair. "I refuse to deal with that puffed-up smidgen of blowfish shit."

Lady Lucifer sighed. "Lillith, perhaps you'd like to send the Archangel Marc a delectable message from me? Suggest a little inter-departmental co-operation on this matter? Reassure him that these Bathorians have nothing to do with the Hierarchy of Hell and a few Angels of Assassination might be advisable under the circumstances. Maybe they'll take care of the whole mess for us."

"As you wish, your Hellish Majesty," Lady Lillith nodded her head.

"Well, then," Lady Lucifer stood, prompting the rest of the assembly to stand as well, "I suggest that we all make this matter our top priority, the disruption of Earthly Affairs cannot be tolerated. I suggest we reconvene in two days, and I want to hear some plans of action at the very least. These Bathorians need to make contact with their Demonic master every so often, one of them is going to slip up sometime, just be sure that your agents are there to catch the ball when they do. Dismissed."

The Princes of Hell teleported away for the most part; except for Meserach who had to be carried away in a stretcher, still asleep. Sylvanna dragged me to my feet but we waited for the rest of the gathering to disperse before she led me through the golden doors where the Demiurge was waiting.

I was blinded by the light for a moment before it faded, revealing a circular bedroom with no windows or doors leading out. Archways connected the enormous marble-and-gold bedroom to the rest of the royal apartment, but there didn't seem to be any other way in or out other than the golden doors that weren't inset into any wall. Once they closed behind us, they faded out of existence.

"Lady Lucifer still has some business, but she has promised to be with you presently, Captain," the Demiurge bowed, backing away through the golden doors, "please take a seat."

The golden gateway faded out of existence after it was closed, leaving no trace of its presence behind. The chambers were each dominated by some piece of furniture. The orgy-sized bed took up one end of the central room while the other end was taken up by a dining table laden with food. My stomach couldn't help but rumble at the delicious smells, freshly baked bread, sweat meats, sizzling pork, fruit platters chilled by bowls of ice, tubs of jam and butter, cream and honey, fresh seafood and charred beef. I sat at the table as I was bid, but placed my fingers under my butt to stop myself from eating anything. Sylvanna wasn't so inhibited, ripping off a turkey leg and gnawing down.

She gave me the evil eye. "What's the matter, Lady Lucifer's hospitality not good enough for you?"

"No, it's magnificent, but I've read far too many stories where a mere mortal dared to presume to partake of a feast and was doomed for his temerity. Call me overly cautious, but I'd rather not play any games until I know the rules."

"HA!" She laughed. "If'n yer already here, trust me you're already doomed, little man. This is Hell, Lady Lucifer makes the rules, and she can change them on you in the blink of an eye. Think about this logically for a second. Let's say fer argument's sake that Lady Lucifer wants to play some sort of elaborate mind game with you in which she conjures up some sort of insult to her personally and takes it out on you. If she wanted to do that, she's got you coming both ways. If you eat, she'll take offense at your presumption; if you don't eat she'll take offense at the fact that her gift wasn't good enough for you. This is all assuming that she actually needs an excuse to do anything to you, which she doesn't."

Feeling a little childish, I reached out and took a slice of steaming bread and nibbled on one of the corners, which my companion found even funnier. I ignored her and nibbled, praying that this wasn't all some sort of elaborate trick to re-damn my soul… even to me that sounded silly, but I was getting that paranoid.

"So," I asked between nibbles, "you'll forgive me but the Princes of Hell didn't seem all that… impressive… I mean, not that they weren't terrifying and all that but I expected them to be a bit…"

"More fearsome," Sylvanna nodded, "don't worry your pretty little head, squirt. The Princes were toning it down for the plebs."

"Something tells me that their little family isn't quite so loving as it appears. The Demiurge and Orcus don't seem to be on the best of terms."

Sylvanna grunted. "They've got their allies and enemies amongst themselves. The Demiurge and Orcus have a feud on that's been going for as long as anyone can remember. Asmodeus and Mammon work together constantly, and you know what they say about familiarity. Ares and Lillith are allies and they have Lady Lucifer's backing, so they keep the disparate elements on track. Haagenti sits back and waits for an opportunity to tip the scales in his favor, or at least keep them level. Meserach isn't an issue, but SOMEONE has to be the Prince of Sloth."

"That's one sin I've never understood. It seems like such a waste."

"Well, back in the day it was very important," Sylvanna disagreed, "Sloth was the sin of being overly sad and grumpy, particularly in public. By being depressed or discontent with your lot in life, it was thought that you were turning a blind eye to the gifts of the guy upstairs. These days, it represents out-and-out laziness, the failure to achieve your full potential and the inability to take a risk for probable gain. TV and video games now fall under Meserach's purview and, believe me, is Mammon pissed about that. He did all the work, threw billions into development, and Meserach steals the whole thing without even lifting a finger. The narcoleptic bitch has style, I'll give her that."

"Why doesn't he just kill her?"

"HA! Now yer thinking like a Devil. The Demon that kills the Princess of Sloth will be destroyed in turn and she makes sure that everyone knows it. Nobody dares lift a finger against her, not even Haagenti who would just love to snap her up in her sleep. But hell, like I said, who wants to be the Prince of Sloth anyway?"

"I don't know," Lady Lucifer rebutted, "Sloth is one of my favorite sins."

Both of us did a double-take. One moment, Lady Lucifer wasn't sitting at the head of the table and suddenly she was there, picking a grape off the fruit platter. Sylvanna dropped her food, shot to her feet and saluted immediately. I stopped chewing.

"For example," Lucifer continued, delicately savoring the taste of her grape, "even in the old days, if one is not discontent then one has no motivation. If one is never displeased with anything, one is nothing but a mindless drone to be used and abused by those in power. If you term Sloth as an overwhelming wave of discontent and depression, well, maybe the Slothful have something to be depressed about. If you look upon Sloth as laziness taken to the next level, rather than look at the Slothful in question, why not look at their circumstances? Life, all life, on Earth and beyond is based around one thing: killing time. Some people come to the realization that climbing the highest mountain and fording every stream are really useless and hollow gestures, nothing more than a cry for attention in a world that worships spectacle over substance. Many men and women have toiled over the years to cure cancer, rid the world of poverty and stop wars, and they will be nothing more in the end than a footnote in history."

Her spiel caused my brow to furrow. "Wait a tick, are you saying that there's nothing in the world worth doing? That we're doomed to die anyway, so why even try to better ourselves? That's poppycock!"

Lucifer then did something that rearranged reality on me once more, causing the ground underneath my feet to lurch and the world to spin around me. Lady Lucifer, The Adversary, giggled like a schoolgirl. "Oh, I knew you were going to be such fun! Actually, no, I don't really believe in the Slothful philosophy. I find that all sins are best indulged in moderation. After all, if I was too Slothful, I could never enjoy Wrath, Lust, Greed, Gluttony… gluttony is actually a lot of work, you know… Vanity, oh how I love Vanity. Between Vanity and Sloth, I've got the mortal world coming and going. Do you know how many Angels fall for Vanity and Pride? Oh, look at me, look at me, look at all the great works I've done, I'm so good, I'm so brilliant, I'm God's number one!"

I couldn't help myself, it just came out. "And you should know."

Lady Lucifer stopped eating her grape. Sylvanna had gone very still. I gulped down a particularly dry hunk of my bread. The moment of tension seemed to drag out, then Lady Lucifer crushed the grape between her teeth and time seemed to start again. "That's a common misconception. I didn't Descend for Vanity or Pride, I chose exile of my own free will."

"If my Sunday school recollections serve me right, I believe it was Michael that kicked you out on your ear."

"Your memory's fine, it's the Bible that's faulty."

I blinked. "Do you really expect me to believe someone widely known as the King… er, Queen of Lies? Particularly about a detail like that?"

Lucifer laughed, the seductive peels echoing throughout the chambers. "My dear boy, do you really think the real danger of facing Satan is unknotting my lies? Any backyard huckster can lie, I command legions of the best liars in the universe, but do you think that mere lies could really convince Angels to follow my banner in the war against God? No, little one, it wasn't lies. My names, the Lightbringer, the Morning Star, these titles I was given as the Archangel of Truth. God gave me the gift of Truth, the knowledge of the Truth of all things, even HIS Truth. He created me to be the greatest Angel, and this fact is acknowledged by God and all the other Angels. I love Him with all my heart and soul BUT the Truth is not always Good or Right. Sometimes, the Truth is a terrible burden to bear, which was why I had to be the strongest of my brethren so that I could withstand the knowledge I held. Armed with that knowledge and love, I was God's right hand…"

Her eyes went glassy, as if she were looking at things that had happened millennia ago. I was rapt by her manner, the lilt of her voice, the raw emotion, an irresistible wave of deadly charisma threatening to sweep my mind away with its sheer power.

"In his name, I slaughtered entire races. This very city was once populated by the Efreet, a powerful race related to the Djinn, and I murdered every man, woman and child. At some point in that escapade, I started seeing things more clearly. The Efreet were evil, by and large, but what of their children? What of the few rebellious ones who could have one day overthrown their tyrants? But no, God said kill, and I killed with his blessing. Covered in the blood of the innocent, I realized that I could have said no."

She paused for a time, then took a sip of her drink. When she looked at me again, she smiled graciously. "And that, dear one, is how one indulges in Vanity."

I shook my head, trying to straighten out the tangle my thoughts had gotten into. "Hang on, hang on, you can't just stop the story there! How did you manage to convince the other Angels to follow you? I don't get it."

"Why, I told them the Truth, of course!" Lucifer grinned. "Even as His creations are a reflection of him, so too is He reflected in his creations. God isn't purely good because a purely good being doesn't have free will. All things are possible for God, that's part and parcel of what he is, he has the capacity for both great good and great evil, just like the rest of us. The majority of the Angels had toiled and labored under the notion that they were unfailingly right in following God no matter what he asked of them. Discovering that God wasn't pure came as quite a shock. One thing led to another and they brought the infallibility of God into question and once they did that… the Truth, you see, is a dangerous weapon. Angels can sniff out lies, which are easily dismissed. The Truth, however, cuts to the core of your being. All those stories about me in the popular media are utter trash. When someone deals with me, I give them exactly what they ask for, and I always fulfill the spirit of any contract. Honestly, why bother lying? What is gold to me? What is mortal success? What is power? I have an infinite amount of it all. And all I have to do to make friends is share a bit of it out. Nothing simpler! And all I want in return is loyalty, is that such a hard thing? It seems to be these days. Take some advice from me, Rowe; I can make your afterlife a Heaven or a Hell, which one is YOUR choice now."

I felt numb. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to shunt all my questions aside. "Lets cut to the chase, what is it that you want from me?"

Lady Lucifer smiled. "Good, I like to get right to the point. Rowe, I've been watching you. Don't feel flattered, I watch a lot of people, but I have found something in you that I haven't seen very many times before. You disavowed your faith because you thought that was the right thing to do and then you proceeded to act for the most part in a completely moral and upstanding manner. Despite the womanizing, you never went after a woman you knew to be married, and you always broke off any relationship with a woman if you discovered that she was being unfaithful. Tell me, if you don't believe in the sanctity of marriage, why?"

I shrugged. "It's a betrayal. If you marry someone, you give your word to be a part of their lives. Sacred or not, if you give your word and trust to another without reservation and taking great risk to yourself, that word should be honored."

"Which is why I've brought you here, Rowe, you shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be here, yet you are here in Hell. It is very rare that a soul slips through the cracks, so rare that it drew my eye, but refusing Eternal Bliss truly shocked me."

I gave an involuntary shudder.

"See?" Lucifer continued. "The idea of it sickens you, doesn't it? Honestly, it sickens me too, and Angels have the temerity to rail about Sloth, to then shunt aside good souls while there's still work to be doing, because not all souls are acceptable candidates for Angelhood, oh no! The point to all this, Rowe Welburn, is that what I want and what I need is your loyalty. I'm giving you a choice. I want you to mark that I don't have to give you anything, I rule in Hell and I can take what I want. Pledge to serve me in any way I see fit or wander Hell unmolested as one of the Cursed."

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Wow. That's a big decision. I mean, I don't know all of the facts."

"Then ask away," Lady Lucifer smiled patiently, "we've got all of eternity."

"All right, then. You'll excuse me but, by all accounts, Devils are rather evil."

Lucifer sighed. "We do get such bad press. Let's go back to the issue of Free Will. Everyone has it in Creation, you know, even Demons and Devils, with very few exceptions. Devils, despite our rebellion, play a vital role in the scheme of things. Look at things objectively, like God does by the way. What do we do? We punish the wicked and we tempt mortals. We do not forcibly drag mortals into Hell; we merely provide them with an outlet for the evil that already exists inside them. Those that give into temptation are culled and taught the errors of their ways in Hell. That is the official version of what we do, but there's a flip side to that. What about the souls which come to us who are undeserving of their fates? Is Adultery worth an eternity of pain and torment? The theft of a loaf of bread when the thief is starving? Particularly when the rules are so ambiguous that they may or may not even exist, how can one make an informed moral choice if they haven't been taught what morality is? Why would anyone act morally when to do so brings no reward? Survival is the key thought on every living being's mind, survive and thrive is their only commandment. What do you think I do with those souls who are undeserving of their fate, like you?"

I didn't have a clue. I think she read it on my face.

"Why, I make them into Demons, dear one," Lucifer grinned, "and they are the best material for it as well. The tortured become the torturers. I love the sweet poetic irony of it. I empower those whom God has turned his back upon. Here, let me show you something."

She hopped lightly to her feet and literally skipped over to my side, dragging me out of the chair and maneuvering me into another chamber, this one dominated by a crystal clear pool. Waving her hand, the pool shimmered and an image took the place of the surface.

The pool depicted a crowd of naked women running across a dark desert. I had to blink as the image zoomed into one woman in particular who kept looked back over her shoulder in terror. She was bald with a tattoo of a black sun on the back of her head.

"T-th-th-th-that's…" I gasped. 'He' now sported immense breasts, easily a DD cup, and wide, child-bearing, hips. In fact, the whole crowd looked like they'd just stepped out of a porn film.

"Yep!" Lucifer snickered. "That's Neil Ferguson, the rapist you interrupted before one of my Valkyries could get her hooks into him. That wasn't his first rape by a long shot, he got sent straight into the breeding pens without so much as a single appeal."

"Breeding pens, what do you…" I stopped when the thing that was chasing them came into the scene, and I knew exactly what she meant by breeding pens. The demon was an enormous, worm-like, penis that slithered and undulated across the ground. With a great lurch, it threw itself forward through the air faster than the crowd of girls could run and I watched as 'Neil' was knocked down underneath it, pinned. I couldn't believe it when the thing started to nuzzle her crotch, it was three times her size, there was no way it could hope to penetrate! Then I noticed the tip starting to shrink, compacting itself to force its way inside her. I looked away when she started to scream as the enormous wang distended her beyond anything a normal woman could hope to accommodate.

"Please, turn it off," I begged.

She didn't. "She raped, brutalized and murdered twelve women, one of them only fourteen. Are you asking me to stop her torture?"

I shook my head. "No, he deserves it, I'm asking you to turn off the TV… er, the pool, whatever that thing is! I know logically that's Neil whatever his name is and I know what he did but I can't watch that, please."

Smiling, she dismissed the image. "Maybe you need a change of pace. How about a little slice of Heaven, this should prove enlightening."

As the image shimmered into view I collapsed to the floor and coughed up the majority of the bread that I'd managed to consume. "BLOODY HELL! That can't be Heaven!"

"Oh, but it is," Lucifer smiled, "rather beautiful, really. Pedophiles who resist their urges in life get to play with the Enfants Terrible, the precocious child Angels, for all eternity. When they're not playing with their 'mommies and daddies', the Enfants hunt down all those who have ever harmed a child on Earth and send them down here for punishment. Like so…"

She waved her hand again and the scene changed to something similar yet far, far more grotesque. I fell back onto the floor again but I didn't have anything left to regurgitate.

"I'll give you three guesses which one's the pedophile and the first two don't count. For added spice, the Devil here, the one with the spiked member, was a molested child in life who allowed the experience to ruin his future as well."

"TURN IT OFF!" I begged, unashamedly.

Lucifer tisked. "Maybe one day you'll learn to love Justice the way I do. Ok, how about something more to your liking?"

Another wave of her hand brought fourth the image of a man being pleasured by seven exquisitely beautiful women at once. Lorilei and Lucifer were beautiful, but it was beauty of the dangerous variety. These women were gentle, safe and pliable. It wasn't as bad as the scenes before, but they still made me want to gag. I'd never been able to stomach Marylyn Monroe as a starlet, no matter how reputedly intelligent she was off screen. Her on-screen persona had those dead, vacant, eyes that were frankly chilling. Give me a confident, competent, woman any time. These women had that same wide-eyed vacancy, doe's eyes in more way than one. Gentle but stupid.

"This is Mohammed's Heaven for the Martyrs," Lucifer explained, "pleasured for eternity by seven celestial virgins. And yes, they stay virgins no matter how much they do that particular position. Regretting not signing up with the other side?"

I shook my head. "Look at them… they're empty."

Lucifer nodded. "Yes, Houris aren't known as Angels of Intelligence. Actually, they're completely useless outside the bedroom. But then, not every man in the world likes to be challenged by their lovers. In fact, the majority of men prefer nice, compliant, women who rely on them for a reason to live. Humans can make me sick."

I had to agree with her there.

"All right, then, how about something more visceral?" She waved her hand and the calm, pastoral, scene was replaced by a field of blood and carnage far removed from the limited conflicts of modern times. "Valhalla, the Heaven of departed warriors who love battle the most. They get to have a big, bloody, brawl every day, then all the dead regenerate by dusk so they can carouse all night, then they march out into the wilderness once more to cut each other up into bloody chunks again. All rather pointless, really."

I covered my mouth, on the verge of retching again. "And the big guy lets them get away with this?"

"Get away with it? He endorses it! Love of battle isn't a sin, you know. 'Thou Shalt Not Kill' is one of the most amended commandments in the entire constitution! Angels kill a lot, they kill Rogues, they kill demons, they kill inconvenient mortals, they kill monsters, they kill each other… that's the point of this entire exercise, the Angels really aren't better than us. Heck, we are Angels! I still have rank in Heaven, you know, God never rescinded it. And He's ordered more than his fair share of genocides. Sodom and Gomorra? 90% of the Book of Genesis? All true. The Book of Job? He persecuted that poor man for being faithful to him."

"Do as I say, not as I do. I'm familiar with that principle," I nodded. "I have to ask, though, if you're still welcome back up there, what keeps you down here? Something tells me that Byron didn't hit the mark."

Lucifer snorted. "Byron and Dante were toads. They'd have it that my Pride is what keeps me in Hell, but no, that's not right. What keeps me down here is the Truth, and I can't ignore my Truth. Which brings us to why you're going to accept my offer."

I blinked. "Oh?"

"You said it yourself," she smiled, stroking my cheek, "you won't be useless for anybody. As long as you're still on the field, you still have a chance to stake a claim in the big game. If you retire and wash your hands of the whole lot of it then you will be useless to everyone. It'd really be a form of suicide, wouldn't it?"

"You're right," I growled, "the truth is a lot more painful, isn't it?" She waited as I sank to one knee, patient as ever. "I pledge my loyalty to you, Lady Lucifer. I am yours to do with as you see fit."

"YAY! I win again!" She hopped into the air and clapped her hands girlishly. "Whatever I want? Ok, Sylvanna, throw him into the pits!"

"Yes, your Hellish Majesty!"

I spluttered as Sylvanna grasped me by the neck. "B-b-b-b-b-b-b…"

"Wait a minute, Syl." Grinning, Lady Lucifer leered at me nose to nose. Stroking my cheek with one hand she took a deep breath…

"PSYKE!" She shouted, flicking my nose with her claw. "Sheesh, you really think I'd go through all that for THAT joke? Puh-leeeeze…"

She picked me up and hugged me, squeezing me so hard that I thought my head was going to pop like a pimple. "Can't… breathe…"

She let go suddenly. "What are you talking about? You don't have to breathe at all, silly! Its ok, Captain, you can go now. See if you can find that Lorilei for me, I want a personal report on these bloody Bathorians by tomorrow, before council reconvenes."

"Yes, your Hellish Majesty!" Sylvanna snapped to attention, then summoned the golden door and departed.

"Best Captain I ever had," Lucifer smiled, still clutching me around the shoulders (not that I was complaining), "ok, I think I know what I'm going to do with you now. Come on."

She practically dragged me into one of the other chambers. I had to gape at the sheer size of it. The room was literally endless, with a horizon and everything. Stacked in haphazard lines were rows and rows of books seemingly without labels or any other form of order to them. Raising her hand and snapping her fingers, we waited for several minutes before an enormous leather-bound book flapped its way into her hand.

"Dear one, this book holds the names and a brief description of all the different types of Devils in Hell. From tomorrow morning, you'll have two days to study this book and use the scrying pool to decide which sort of Devil you wish to become. Once your choice is made, I'll transfigure you into a form that will be of better service to me than your current one, ok?"

"Um," I cocked my head to one side, perplexed, "tomorrow? What are we going to be doing tonight?"

Grinning, she lent over to give me a burning kiss on the cheek. "Tonight, we're going to bed."

No, I did not have sex with Satan.

If you look at the facts, you'll see how ludicrous the suggestion is. Look at it from Lucifer's point of view, would you take a hamster to bed with you for sex? Look at it from my point of view, could you get it up sleeping with the second most perfect being in the universe? Or, alternatively, could you even consider sex when you're scared shitless of your partner? Inadequate? You don't know the meaning of the word, my friends.

No, I wasn't Lucifer's sex toy, I was a teddy bear. She dragged me into bed like she was a six year old kid and I was the stuffed toy and she promptly went to sleep hugging me from behind. I lay awake the whole night, wondering how long it'd be before she capriciously decided to rip my head off with her sweet little hands, or maybe gouge out an eye. Of course, those wandering digits didn't help any exploring under my robes and probing my chest in her sleep, nor the slender leg that wrapped around my waist. The weird part was the tentacle-like thing that curled over my thigh, which sent me into a panic until I realized it was her tail.

The wait for that night to be over was interminable but it did end. Of course, she wasn't about to let me know that without taking advantage. The night ended when she slipped her talon-tipped fingers down the front of my trousers and I leapt off the bed screaming.

She, in turn, got into a fit of giggles that caused her to fall off the other side. "Oh, you are too easy! Eternity with you is going to be SO much FUN!"

I kept my lips shut. See? I'm not totally stupid.

She left me with the book and the scrying pool to attend to the affairs of Hell and I launched into my research with all the gusto of a man with a time bomb strapped to his chest.

First, I established a set of criteria for my most desirable form. Handsome, strong and intelligent was at the top of the list, which cut out most of the competition, believe me. After that, I compared the different powers, ranks and status of each enclave, as will as their 'Precinct' or living environment.

Among the first casualties were the Progenators of the Breeding Pits, the giant penis demons I'd seen accosting former rapists in the scrying pool, formed from the souls of those who forced female circumcision on others and doomed to the search for sexual pleasure that can never be completely fulfilled because of their tendency towards pre-ejaculation.

That made me wince.

I noticed a pattern to being a Devil, it seemed to me that each and every specimen had some sort of punishment attached, either directly into their forms or maybe their lifestyle. If the demon was strong, they lacked intelligence. If they were fast and cunning, they were weak. If they could have sex, they'd never be fulfilled. If they couldn't have sex, they craved it. If they were magically powerful, that magic was wild and hard to control. If they could control it, they couldn't do much with it. Those that searched tirelessly for more knowledge were cursed to never know anything about one particular subject, and so on and so on.

I did, however, by the end of the day narrow down the choices into a small, if not exactly original, list which Lady Lucifer looked over at dinner.

"Number one, Malseraph," She mused, "interesting choice. Why put that at number one?"

I held out my hand and waggled it about. "It was touch and go on that for number one, but the Malseraph is more powerful and their abilities work on both men and women."

She nodded. "Number two, Incubi… why am I not surprised? Number three, Imp. Now THAT's an interesting choice."

"From what I've read and seen, Imps are much maligned in the hierarchy. There are a lot of them, sure, but they're the glue that holds the rest of Hell together. AND it's pretty shocking how much power the Imp Lords actually wield in the scheme of things."

"That it is, at times. There's just one problem with this list," she held it up for me to look at, "where are the female demons here?"

I blinked. "Uh, well, um, you see…"

"You didn't consider any of the female clans, did you?"

"Uh, no. No I didn't. I mean, I am a man…"

"What has that got to do with it?" She interrupted. I clamped my mouth shut before it could do any more damage. "I'm halfway tempted to turn you into a woman for a while to show you what you're missing out on but I don't think a temporary solution will do the job here."

I felt my gut tighten into knots.

"I'm altering our deal. You have one more day to find a FEMALE demon to choose as the form you'd like to wear for the rest of eternity."

"That's not fair!" I protested.

"Fair? Since when did I ever say I was fair?"

"Beautiful," I grumbled, "but not fair."

"I heard you! Just for that, none of the butch ultra-lesbian demons either!"

"Yes, Lady Lucifer." I murmured, resigned to my fate.

I cheated slightly that night and hid the tome under the bed so I could read while Lady Lucifer slept. I think she let me get away with it, though, far be it from me to think I actually hoodwinked Satan.

It happened about halfway through the night, though that's just a guess on my part. Lady Lucifer was wriggling in her sleep as if she were in the throes of a nightmare when light moans started to escape her lips. "Dominic," she whispered. Only once but the word seemed to calm her dream. The word gave me pause.

I knew a Dominic, not personally of course, but from my readings. Dominic, Archangel of Justice. It seemed strange to me that she'd whisper the name of one of her arch enemies in her sleep the way one would a lover… yet hadn't she said before that she loved Justice? Not knowing what to do about it, I filed the information into the back of my brain and went back to reading.

The next day was Hell, but should I have expected any less? Only half my problem was contemplating becoming female, the other half was the sort of female I wanted to become. Call me vain, but I didn't want to be butt ugly. Demonic women tend to come in two flavors, 'gorgeous beyond mortal comprehension' and 'so hideous you'll die of fright'. The Gorgons were an excellent example. Beauteous to behold from the neck down, but if you look into their eyes a mortal may be turned to stone. Immortals, thankfully, are only paralyzed and there is a cure but… not for me. Hags? HA! You're kidding, right? I'd rather join Neil in the breeding pit.

And so it was, at the end of that day, my list read so:

Hell's Valkyries.

Succubus.

Hell Maid.

Sedu.

Hell's Valkyries was at the top because, not only do they get some measure of physical ability, but also magic, so I wasn't going to be expected to fuck around (literally) all the time. Succubus, however, rated over Hell Maid because I don't really consider myself a front line fighter. The Sedu seemed interesting but there was precious little information on them in the book. All I really had was a sketch and a note that 'these female demons of Lust are related to the Lilim (Succubae), have powers of possession and are afforded a special status in Hell by Lady Lucifer.' The note was interesting, but a bit too vague for my liking, so they came fourth. The sketch certainly made them look desirable, long legs, red skin, little horns and a tail, sort of like the Succubae only without the wings or the stiletto hooves for feet.

Handing Lady Lucifer the piece of paper, I sealed myself for the pronouncement of my fate.

"Wow," she whistled.

"Well, I figured if I was going to go the whole hog, I might as well go the whole hog…"

"Oh, no, sorry," she giggled, "not what I meant. I just can't believe the one I'd already picked out for you actually made it onto your list."

I stared at her. The silence began to stretch out. Somewhere in the distance, a hellhound barked.

"You've… already… chosen?"

"Uh-huh," she grinned.

"Then, prey might I ask, what was I doing for the last two days?"

"Heightening your own stress levels."

"B-b-b-b-b-b…"

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'but'."

"BUT WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING IT FOR?!? WHY'D I HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL THAT IF YOU'D ALREADY PICKED???"

"Relax, dear one, you'll give yourself an aneurism."

"But you said I could chose…"

"Um, no, actually. If you recall, I said that you could pick out the one that you would like to be and then I'd make the decision. I never said that my decision would have anything to do with what you picked, did I?"

"B... ack… fniz… nupit… upt… ok, fine, that's fine, no problem at all." Trying desperately to remember who I was talking to, I forced myself to swallow my pride and ask the pertinent question. I mean, dagnabbit, she was right and I was a bloody fool.

"Lady Lucifer," I continued calmly and concisely, "if you would be so kind, could you please tell me which demonoid species that I'm going to be spending the rest of eternity as?"

"Guess."

My fists were balled so tight I thought my nails were going to draw blood. "Hell Maid?"

"Nope, not enough battle experience. As in, you've got NONE."

"Hell's Valkyrie?"

"Close but no cigar. Not enough violent tendencies."

"Oh, well, if I have to become a Succubus…"

"Sorry, three strikes and you're out, you're not amoral enough to become a Succubus. A Succubus that balks at humping a married man? That'll be the day."

I blinked. "A Sedu? I'd never have picked that in a million years! There's no information on them in the book, and when I checked for them in the scrying pool it just went blank."

"Well, duh! A spy's not much good if you can scry them out. Sheesh, they'd be dropping out of the sky like flies…"

I started rubbing my temples. "Ok, so no matter what I say or what I do, you're going to turn me into a Sedu. Right, I'll just accept that and move on. Now, what's a Sedu and what will I be doing?"

"Well, now, I think it's about time you found out," She whispered huskily, moving in to slide her arms around my waist, pressing herself in against my body, "don't worry, it's like ripping off a band-aid, it doesn't hurt if you do it… fast!"

She practically jumped forward to mash her lips against mine, spewing light and fire into my mouth. I can't tell you much beyond that because I blacked out from pain a moment later.

Oh, one thing though, she tastes divine.

  

  

  

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