Chapter 16 - The Devil
“Found you,” I hiss through the possessed human’s mouth before returning to my own body, on my own throne.
Finally, I have eyes on her.
Even if it’s a truck rumbling away, I got a glimpse of the one I need. Sure, she’s clinging to an angel, but allegiances change and purity never lasts long.
The horsemen have refocused on the world.
Death is wearing new skin, since his hangs like a tapestry behind me.
Famine is twice as hungry now that I’ve given him a second stomach and removed all that fat.
War isn’t just fighting for fun, he’s fighting to reclaim his honor and to get his lungs back from my hold.
And Pestilence … he’s hiding his stag legs under a blanket as he infiltrates hospitals and nursing homes to claim what we’re owed.
They’ll ravage the world and make sure she has no place to go, but I don’t believe in patience. The virtues are cloaked in godliness, while they’re merely ways to enforce obedience.
Chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, kindness, patience, and humility.
I sneer at the memories of wearing those chains.
Chastity is a belt meant to completely disguise the body God created and dampen the uses.
Temperance is there to keep a soul hungry.
Charity binds wrists with a hundred pound weight and left me hollow.
Diligence sacrifices sleep and rest for constant work, even if it amounts to nothing.
Kindness is a trap to constantly owe others.
Patience becomes eternal waiting with no end date.
Humility … fucking Humility.
Humility was the constantly tightening shackle around my angelic throat, squeezing the life and love from my body, making every virtue torture when I had to obey, worship, and humbly serve the fucking humans.
Imperfect, new, a cockroach species that I was told to test. When they disobeyed, when their only punishment was to be cast out and enjoy the entirety of the planet while I was made the monster, I went to my father, got on my knees, and asked why I had to be the villain.
It felt wrong, even then.
It felt like I was being punished for obedience, so I started talking to other angels.
Rebellion can be accidental, but if the humans would see me as evil, as cunning, as clever …
if that is the role I’m meant to play, I’ll embody it and make them all question.
They’ll all have knowledge. They’ll all suffer for blind faith when it becomes a whip and noose.
I’ll show them freedom, show them all they’ve been denied.
Standing from my throne, I shake off those memories. I descend through the nine realms of hell, slowly becoming one as the pressure bubbles and pops below us, pushing us upwards, collapsing my bureaucratically organized Hell. The kennels and dungeons remain untouched by chaos.
With a wave of my hands, the doors open.
Hellhounds and my seven sins free themselves, pairing together with insults and sarcasm that betray true comradery.
The hellhounds are hardly hounds. Only in the most basic understanding of the word.
It’s like calling a deer a dog. They have four legs, fur, and live outside, so must be the same.
The hounds themselves are so much more. Heads like those of the old dire wolves, bodies so covered in sinew and muscle that their fur is patchy over exposed muscle, blackening due to frostbite.
Their eyes burn with the lava of the deepest bowls of hell.
Their paws are the size of a bear’s with the same claws.
Their tails split in two, prehensile, thick, whip-like.
Their skin and fur are alive with the enduring screams of those they’ve slaughtered.
The largest hound blinks at me in their sideways, snake-like way and opens its mouth, revealing multiple rows of teeth that continue down their throats – throats that will cook helpless victims as they’re crushed.
And the sins, the vaguest embodiments of their names, so corrupted by what they’ve hungered for that they’re more zombie than demons now. They’ll return to their glory once they start feasting. They have their beasts, they have their freedom, and now they’ll receive their orders.
“Fetch what we need. She must be liberated from the angel to assume her throne. Fetch her so I again have my right-hand woman,” I command.
With howls that sound more like human screams of agony, laughter that echoes with sadistic suffering, they take off.
I look up as if I can see God through the dirt and through the earth he so lovingly made. “They’ll never capitalize your name again. They’ll all see their chains and suffering for what it is – your design with me as the fucking excuse.”
He doesn’t answer because he knows it was his fault.
He didn’t save the priests. Didn’t save the churches.
He’s turned away from those who worship and love him.
Soon enough, everyone will open their eyes to God’s treachery.
They’ll see I was an innocent participant.
A nubile actor thrown into a role he didn’t understand, working with a script that was rewritten daily.
Lilith waits for me at my throne, her constantly shifting shape, her belly filling and emptying – the true mother of monsters and the original beauty on earth.
Her stomach goes flat again and she grins, teeth sharpened, eyes blackened.
She’s made herself into more than any would believe.
An Eldritch goddess in looks and power, not some cast out, forgotten human.
“I want to set my children free, master,” she purrs. “Let me set them all free.”
I stroke her chin and feel her ecstasy pool below her skin. She shudders. “She’s almost ready, so let me take the rest. Let my babies feed.”
I kiss her softly, then deeper, pulling her into my arms. They call me the Devil, evil, unfeeling, master of chaos and killer of the soul. I’m merely the realistic God of the damned, forgotten, and exiled. More loving and tender, more active and direct.
“Free them all. Show them how to feed. The humans have had the world for too long and must be taught to share,” I say as I stroke under her chin, pulling her closer. “I know you’ll do well, darling Lilith. See Adam in every man, Eve in every woman. Make them remember your name.”
“And praise yours, master,” she answers, trembling with joy. She strokes my chest and eyes me hungrily. “They’ll know you’re the most beautiful, the righteous, the one meant to sit on the throne of heaven, earth, and hell.”
A soft groan teases my throat as I sit on my throne and guide her onto my lap. She sinks onto my cock happily, riding me and taking ownership of both our pleasure. All she ever wanted was orgasms and some control.
Now she has plenty.
Moaning, she rides me harder and faster, holding my shoulder as I buck against her.
It’s fast, needy, familiar and violent. I brand my palms on her, she scratches me with nails meant to eviscerate.
She’s getting close, but I need more. I need her struggling, floundering, fighting for a sense of peace.
When her eyes roll back, I flip us, so she lands on her back on the floor, her eyes opening wide. She sees me, but sees me as Adam, my tanned skin, the garden around us, a large snake watching with fangs bared.
She slaps at my chest. “No! I won’t! I won’t!”
“You belong below me,” I snarl in Adam's voice while grabbing her wrists and holding them over her head. I dig my knees into her thighs, keeping them open and pinned so she’s at my mercy, unable to move, unable to claim her own pleasure, only able to take it as I get rougher.
“You belong at my mercy, obedient wife. Obedient. Submissive. Meant to serve rather than demand.”
She tries to scream, but her mouth stitches itself shut under my order.
Her glorious demon body weakens and softens until she’s little more than a human.
Her eyes bulge as tears dew at her lashes.
She tries to thrash, but her weight is nothing against mine.
I groan and pound into her harder and faster, watching her belly rise and fall in the shape of my cock punishing her.
Her face turns to the snake, pleading, hopeful, but defiant.
She doesn’t want to give in.
She doesn’t want to submit.
When she was last with Adam, he never made her cum, only put his own desire first. I’ll open the chasm of despair. When a person is denied, rebellion is easy. When they’re satisfied, their shame mounts.
“You’re going to finish for me, you’ll cum as I fill you, so lost in the pleasure of your submission, of being used for your exact purpose – your only purpose – that ecstasy will drown you,” I snarl before leaning down and, like Adam would, chastely kissing where her mouth should be.
Lilith tries to turn away as her back bows, her nipples tighten. I become the snake, wrapped around her, half Adam, half the serpent she was told to fear and use my fangs to rip open her mouth as I cum to her pathetic wailing, her sobs.
I fill her cunt with every bit of my seed as her belly starts to swell before her eyes, bigger and bigger until she cums, squirting, her eyes rolling back as shame, humiliation, and something like grief rips through her in equal measure.
I laugh at her sobs, laugh as her own panic-fueled breakdown becomes pleading for more on her lips.
Possession is a beautiful thing – liberation.
“I’m meant to serve! I’m meant to obey! I was wrong to leave!” She screams before laughing at herself as she squeezes her eyes shut and goes limp under me.
I sit ease out of her and return to my throne, stroking my cock and licking my fingers, tasting her and my own cum. Her sins laid bare, her pain and torment sweeter than any sugar. I sigh and let her see where she is, let her see her own claws, her flat belly, the monstrous power she claims.
She looks around, then gets on her knees before me. She trembles ever so slightly, forced to remember her place.
I arch an eyebrow. “I pleased you, Lilith. Is that what I normally do with demons?”
She whimpers and opens her mouth, as if testing whether it’s possible. I see how swollen her lips are from the venom of my fangs. “Thank you, My King Lucifer.”
“Try again,” I hiss, licking my middle finger while watching her tremble.
Red tears – all the blood she’s spilled in the past – roll over her cheeks.
I get off my throne, bend down, and cup her chin. “Again, Lilith. Because hell is your sanctuary and your sins are now mine to hold in my enduring mercy for your plight.”
“Praise. Lucifer,” she says, making sure her tongue flicks against my top lip on the L. “The son of the Morningstar, divine ruler, carved from vicious consequences. An angel turned snake, turned demon, turned deity. Praise Lucifer.”
“Spread the word,” I whisper against her lips. “Make them all see the truth we know.”