26
Elvira awoke to the TV screen flashing the red ‘breaking news’ banner across the screen. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Falling asleep on the couch had become a habit as of late. She rarely had the strength to move over to the bed or even get up.
Her hand found the remote, and she unmuted the news. A dark blot of oil and debris in the middle of the ocean occupied the screen.
“...earlier today when a Russian submarine fired a torpedo at a US Destroyer on patrol, sinking it. The crew is still unaccounted for.”
Elvira pushed herself up, her big belly getting in the way. The images on the TV changed to a rerun of the president’s speech.
“This is an act of war that will not go unpunished. This is the third time this year that Russia has encroached on American waters, despite our warnings. As we speak, U.S.S. Excalibur has taken up position in the Baltic Sea, and is ready to strike Moscow in case the unthinkable happens.”
The new supercarrier appeared, with the president riding a red horse onto the massive ship. A girl with dark hair held the reins and led it on board. And when the image froze, she looked right at the camera and smiled.
“Lucy!” Elvira yelled but received no answer.
Her roommate had a fascination with horses and had once said that her work involved four of them. But she’d never mentioned that she’d been hired by the president. Why did she live in this shack then? Surely, she’d earn a lot of money from things like this.
“...and we, as a nation, need to prepare ourselves. Come, my fellow countrymen. America will not stand for this any longer,” the president said before the news anchor returned.
The man stared into the camera for too long, blinking nervously. He nodded and cleared his throat. “I’ve just received word that... a ballistic missile has hit the South Korean capital. Here’s live footage from Seoul…”
Billowing smoke filled the screen. Thousands of people ran in panic. Elvira felt her stomach contract painfully, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the TV. Ambulances and police cars swarmed around ruined buildings. Then everything started shaking, and the camera fell to the ground. A blinding beam lit up the scene before the stream cut off.
Liquid dripped down Elvira’s legs, and then another surge of cramps gripped her lower abdomen.
“Lucy...!” she groaned. “Lucy! I think my water just broke!”
***
The ground shook as another fallen angel crashed into the battlefield. Qoik and the remaining four Earth Imps in his platoon cowered behind a rock, sulfur-dust tossed into the sky. At the bottom of the chasm, Lucifer's horde pressed through the shield wall and filtered into the King’s forces like a cancer tumor of violence.
Qoik scaled the rock with the help of his coughing men. Standing just over one foot, an imp soldier needed to use the battlefield to his advantage. Their job was to plug the holes in the frontline, but with most of the platoon gone, and the enemy breaking through everywhere there wasn’t much left for him to do.
Above, a tangled mess of wings and fire tumbled through the sky. The king was battling all of the fallen angels at once. It filled Qoik’s tiny heart with pride. If his ankle hadn’t been sprained and his arm not broken and his cheek not bleeding, he would’ve stood up on the rock and cheered for his king.
“Eh! What’s that you see up there, Cap'n?” Private-first-class Dunglog squawked.
“The king is slaying the angels in the sky!” Qoik shouted back.
“Can we go up there and watch?” Private-sixty-sixth-class Pruttnick asked, his eyes filled with hope.
“Idiot, you don’t have wings!” Lance-and-food-corporal Buttwize huffed, still recovering from a cough attack.
“I meant on the rock!” Pruttnick slapped the lance-and-food-corporal over the head with his tail.
Buttwize instantly threw himself at his brother in arms, and they both starting wrestling. “There is... only room... for one!”
Qoik ignored the ruckus below, watching in awe as General Baphomet pulverized the enemy vanguard with his axe, carving deep into the oncoming legion of Furies. Qoik had always admired the tall demonesses with coal black skin and snakes for hair, expertly wielding their brass-studded scourges into battle. And despite his size, Baphomet was driven back, howling in pain and bleeding from the slashes of the cruel whips.
Shivering from blood loss, Qoik turned his eyes toward the sky, where a fallen angel with dark blue wings flew headfirst into a swarm of harpies and released a blast of frost. A chorus of shrill screams echoed over the barren lands before a rain of ice, and shattered bodies fell from above.
“Oh, no,” Qoik mumbled and covered his head. “Very very bad.”
He sat down on the rock, with the battle raging around him, and rummaged through his backpack. Finding his ol’ trusty hip-flask, he unscrewed the cork and let a few drops of distilled Hellfire burn down his throat.
Qoik sighed. Another angel fell from the sky – a shining star with wings – slamming into the heaving masses below. It was comforting to know that even creatures of that size could meet their end. Qoik was nothing but a lowly imp captain, but he’d outlived so many greater beings.
He held up his flask to the sky. “To the King of Hell!”