35
With her hair whipping in the wind and a tear sparkling on her cheek, Amanda looked out over the valley. The Bible called it the Plains of Armageddon, and it was a fitting name with the legions of angelic and demonic warriors waiting in formation on both sides. She wasn’t sure how any of this would end, but she didn’t really care. The only thing on her mind now was how to get revenge on Lucifer. There was just a slight problem in her way…
“The ranks of the Heavenly Host aren’t moving,” Lilith said.
“I think everyone’s aware of that,” Baphomet rumbled. “They’re trying to plug the leak.”
“The question is”–Asmodeus flexed all his necks at once, waking the sleeping heads–“do we engage them, or risk getting our supply lines and reinforcements cut off?”
“Where is Lucifer?” Amanda said, her eyes still on the mountains in the distance. “I don’t see her with the fallen angels.”
“She’s notorious for not joining battles,” Asmodeus said. “She’s away scheming somewhere. Our best strategy is to wait for their armies to clash and then finish off the survivors.”
“You do that then,” Amanda said, her lips tight. “I’m going to find Lucifer.”
“Lucifer can’t be our biggest concern right now. Whoever wins this battle will rule the world.”
“I don’t care,” Amanda said bitterly.
Lilith scoffed. “You won’t find her. And if you do, she’ll just kill you first.”
Amanda wanted to repeat her last words but clamped her mouth shut. There was something about the way it was all presented to her – the end of the world, the end of her love – the outcome was irrelevant now.
Amanda had thought that Marc’s army of demon was to key to revenge, but if Lucifer wasn’t even going to be in the battle, then she didn’t need them.
“Do what you want,” she said and started walking down the slope.
The three demonic advisors watched her go, but nobody said anything or tried to stop her. The heat from the Mediterranean sun pushed against her skin and face and made her airways feel stuffed.
In the far distance, the sky met with the sea in a thin stretch of hazy blue. Amanda had traveled across the infernal plains in the blazing heat of the underworld, but somehow the dunes here were more draining – more hopeless.
More than once, Amanda thought about lying down in the burning sand, but for some reason, she kept putting one foot in front of the other. She hugged herself, trying to remember what Marc’s arms felt like. Eyes closed, she whipped the tip of her tongue over her parched lips, thinking about their first kiss.
The yellow eye followed her across the sky, and when it finally dipped into the mountain tops on the horizon, Amanda walked into a small village. The houses all looked like a child’s attempt at building sand castles – flipped over buckets on the beach, haphazardly strewn on either side of the dust-dry dirt road. Windows without glass. Walls slowly cracking under the unforgiving gaze of the sun.
She didn’t see any people around, just empty streets. No voices from inside the buildings. No laughter of playing children. An eerie silence hung over the low roofs and lingered in the narrow alleys.
Thirst drove Amanda toward the center of the village. Maybe the villagers had seen the armies and fled, or maybe…
Amanda stopped in her tracks. She gagged and covered her mouth and nose.
The town square reeked of death. Hundreds of corpses lay face down in the dirt around a well, their arms and legs covered in dark green pustules. Still, this wasn’t the most disturbing sight.
Perched on the small roof of the well, sat a creature with sickly green wings that looked more like flaps of dead skin than feathers. Its face was a featureless mask dried bark. No mouth, nose, or eyes, just clusters of tiny holes that reminded Amanda of a maggot-ridden apple. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and slowly started backing away. Hopefully, it hadn’t seen her, and she could just move on.
“Are you... thirsty?” the creature said, its voice a gurgling rasp.
Despite the heat, a chill crawled up Amanda’s spine. She’d encountered many fallen angels so far, but this one was more repulsive than any of the others.
“N-no,” Amanda said.
“You must be…” The creature heaved itself off the well and filled up a bucket.
The water had a pale green color, same as the angel’s wings, with blobs of mucus floating around. Even from afar, the stench was overwhelming – sharp and bitter and eye-watering. Amanda shook her head violently.
The creature leaned forward and held out the bucket. “I… Insist.”
The whole situation was so hopeless. If she refused, the creature would surely force it down her throat. And despite her own peril, she couldn’t stop thinking about Lucifer. Why wouldn’t she join the battle? Hadn’t she won already? What schemes could possibly remain now that global war and total annihilation was imminent? Wouldn't she want to stand triumphant on top of the burning wreck?
Amanda wiped the tears from her eyes. “What is Lucifer doing? Tell me, and I’ll drink.”
“Bargain with me... will you?”
Amanda nodded, stalling. She wasn’t sure what else she could do. Escape wasn’t even on the table. Her fallen angels were far away. Abaddon had betrayed everyone. Marc was dead. A sudden feeling of abandonment filled her chest.
“The Morning Star’s whereabouts… to what end?”
“Does it matter? Just tell me, and I’ll drink willingly.”
“Willingly…?” the creature said and placed the bucket on the ground. “I like willingly...”
“Yes,” Amanda said and picked up the bucket, gagging from the mere sight of the vile concoction.
“With the child… with the dragon...” the fallen angel said. “Where the ocean meets the shore… at the monument of freedom… when the dust settles, humanity will need a ruler… now swallow the bitter water… swallow deep.”
So, Lucifer was planning for a time after the apocalypse and, for whatever reason, intended to have a few humans survive. Well, it didn’t matter now. And perhaps this was for the best, anyway. Who would want to live in that world anyway?
Amanda closed her eyes and put the bucket to her mouth.