I don’t care! Nyx raged at herself. I don’t! I don’t give a flying fuck about God and I don’t give a flying ass-fuck about blasphemy! I’m going to destroy God!
She was still scared.
They flew low over the waters, and Nyx saw people staring up at them from small fishing boats.
“I thought this place was deserted,” said Nyx.
In Tribunal’s name.
She looked to Ishtar. “Make it deserted.”
Ishtar grinned a mouth full of razors at her and banked away, her sword and whip appearing in her hands.
“Where do you want to do this?” asked Persephone.
“The ruins, there,” pointed Nyx. “As soon as Ishtar gets back.”
They flew low over the lush forest, scattering the birds and the small animals that lived in the trees. The forest gave way to a clearing, and in the midst of it, the tall, round remains of a temple rose up. The proud marble columns and stone walls had been laid low over the centuries, the rocks that made its walls were scattered around it, and creeper vines had long since covered every piece of rock with a layer of green.
Nyx started laughing. It’s one of mine!
She alighted on the grass that covered the paving stones. The faded and fragmentary remains of murals were just visible in places where the inner wall had been shielded from the elements. What the images had been she couldn’t determined from these faint scraps of color. Otherwise, the stone was covered with moss or bare. The altar was still there, but nothing was left of the statue.
“This will do,” said Nyx.
“It most will,” said Persephone. “Now what?”
“Now,” said Nyx, “We wait for Ishtar to finish up, and then we’ll be ready.”
“Shall I clear the space?” asked Persephone. “It won’t take long.”
“Do it,” said Nyx. She walked over and perched herself on the altar. The stone was warm beneath her backside, and the green all around was more pleasant than she liked to admit. It made her feel safe and cozy. Her priests had been so devoted. And even that young man who’d been there long after the priests had vanished…
The one I killed.
She shoved the thought out of her mind. Today was not about the past.
Persephone moved so fast she was a blur, clearing the stone floor of the weeds and leaves, using the wind from her wings to blow them out of the sanctuary and send them flying into the clearing beyond. She moved a thousand years’ debris in minutes, leaving bare stone, a clear altar, and a fire in what was left of the pit.
“Very nice,” said Nyx, approvingly. She felt an Angelic presence coming closer. “And here comes Ishtar.”
Ishtar landed, a smile on her face and blood splattering her body. “There is nothing human left on the island,” she said. “Their boats are sunk, their houses destroyed and their animals scattered.”
“Well done,” said Nyx, smiling at her. Ishtar’s pride was still sorely wounded, she knew, though her flesh had long since healed. “You serve me well, my dear.”
“I thank you, my lady,” said Ishtar, bowing. “Now. How do you create an Angel?”
“With willpower and the Word,” said Nyx.
“The Word?” Persephone’s eyes widened. “THE Word?”
“The very one,” said Nyx. “And when the Angel comes into being, the doors of Heaven and Hell will open once more. We’ll be able to talk to Tribunal directly.”
“And God will be able to come for us,” said Persephone. “Or Michael.”
Nyx shook her head. “No. Tribunal promised me. He’ll keep anyone from coming after us until after the Angel is dead.”
“All right,” said Ishtar. “Then create it so we can get down to Hell and kill it properly.”
“I’m going to!” Nyx snapped. Why am I angry? “Sorry. I’m feeling…odd about this.”
“Angels don’t create,” said Persephone. “At least, we haven’t so far.”
“So, another first for you, then,” said Ishtar. “First to lead a rebellion against God, first to be cast from Heaven, and now, first to create. Go for it.”
There was something in Ishtar’s tone that Nyx didn’t like at all, but she let it lie. She had too much to think about just now. Maybe I should have done this alone.
“Willpower and the word,” she murmured to herself as she closed her eyes. She envisioned her Angel, stepping forward, complete and whole, fresh from creation, with all the knowledge and strength that God had given his Angels. Only he won’t be his. He’ll be mine.
The Angel was going to be male. Of that Nyx was certain. She was creating it and she could make it however she wanted. All that was needed was the Word.
So say it, you wimp, she told herself. Say it now.
She said it, and the world changed.
The sheer force of it knocked Ishtar and Persephone off their feet, sending them flying back against the wall. The island itself shook, as if it wanted to tear itself from it’s foundations and float away into the Mediterranean. The waters around the island boiled, sending out giant waves that would soon crash into the shores for miles around, some taking down cliffs, others washing away entire towns.
Around the world, those who worshipped God felt a stirring: a sense of power that they could not understand, and the sudden, sure knowledge of His existence. The followers of Nyx around the world felt something similar—something powerful and ancient and strengthening that swept away any fears they had of her plans and made them ready to embrace them.
A dozen wars stopped for no reason.
A dozen more started in other places.
And on the island itself, immersed in the massive power of the Word, Nyx envisioned an Angel coming into being. She felt her very being stretching and expanding, as if she was too small a vessel for the task and had to be enlarged to do the job.
The fear rose up in her once more. Who am I to do this? She forced the question aside, and kept her attention on her idea of an Angel. She envisioned how he would look, how he would act, his strengths and talents, how he would serve her.
The world over the island became brighter and brighter, and all three Angels screamed as the power of the Word laid them open, blasting through flesh and bone to find and lay bare their very essences, revealing every thought, every action, every hurt, every joy, in a sudden, grand panoply of pain and ecstasy that nearly ripped Ishtar and Persephone’s minds apart.
It is so much more powerful here, Nyx realized. So much stronger that it was in Sheol.
Here, in the created world. On God’s earth.
Mine. The Earth is mine, now.
The white light began to fade. The earth stopped shaking and the birds and animals that had been sent scurrying through the forest settled once more into hiding. Around the world, things returned slowly to normal. And on the island, Nyx regained her vision. Then blinked in astonishment.
The collapsed temple was whole again. The roof soared overhead, and the murals were once more whole and bright and beautiful. The statue of her in the middle was restored, as smooth and shapely as the day it was placed there, and the altar cleaned and polished to perfection. All the debris and wreckage of the centuries had vanished.
“Wow,” said Persephone.
“Where’s the Angel?” asked Ishtar.
“I don’t…” Nyx sent her mind questing through the world, looking for an Angelic presence. “I don’t know. It’s not out there.”
“It didn’t work?” said Persephone, sadness filling her. “Why didn’t it work?”
“Because Angels can’t create,” snapped Ishtar. “God doesn’t let us create. And there’s no way He’d let us create an Angel.”
“It has to have worked,” said Nyx, sliding off her altar. She felt weak and dizzy and nauseated. Still she pushed her consciousness outward, circling the planet with her mind. “It can’t have failed.”
Persephone caught her as she started to fall.
Nyx awoke hungry.
She was an Angel. She was not
used to being hungry. She could eat, certainly, and enjoyed many of the foods of the Earth. She did not need to eat, however, and so to feel ravenously hungry was both shocking and horrifying.
It must have been the Word, she reasoned. Using it probably takes a lot of energy. So my body needs to replenish.
She opened her eyes and found herself lying on a bed of leaves and flowers, with blankets wrapped around her. She was outside the temple, in the warmth of the Mediterranean late afternoon sun. The sky was a deep blue. The only sounds were birds, bees and the low swish of the waves. Persephone and Ishtar were both watching her intently, and both jumped when her eyes opened.
“Are you all right?” demanded Persephone. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” said Nyx. She pushed herself into a sitting position and groaned. “My stomach feels a bit tender.” She rubbed her hand over her abdomen. “It’s swollen.” She shook her head. “And I’m hungry.”
“Hungry?” repeated Ishtar. “Angels don’t get hungry.”
“Well, apparently, after they say the Word, they do.” Nyx pushed herself to her feet.
“What do you want to eat?” asked Persephone.
“Anything,” said Nyx. “And it doesn’t need to be cooked first, either.”
The Angels sped off.
Persephone came back first with grapes. Nyx devoured them without spitting the seeds out. Ishtar came back with fish from the destroyed village below and Nyx ate that, too. It was delicious in a wholly different way than food usually was, and it wasn’t enough. She spread her wings and flew into the sky, aware by the drag that her belly was even more swollen. She spotted a school of fish and dove into the water, grabbing at them with both hands and tearing them apart, shoving the torn and ripped flesh down her throat. The water became murky with blood and guts, and soon larger predators began to approach. She spotted half a dozen sharks and swam toward them, her wings propelling her through the water as easily as they had the air. The sharks shied away, but Nyx caught one and began devouring it on the spot as it thrashed helplessly. The other sharks circled them, looking for their own opportunity to gorge. Nyx killed and ate six more, and with each one she ingested, her belly bulged more.
She had finished her sixth shark when she realized what was happening to her.
Screaming, Nyx launched herself out of the water. Her swollen belly, now larger than a pregnant cow’s, made it near impossible to fly. She screamed for Ishtar and Persephone, who dove down and hauled her into the air, flying her back to the island, where they laid her once more down on the bed of leaves and flowers.
“Fuck me!” Nyx screamed in fury. “God fuck me! Bastard! Asshole! Pig-fucking—. AAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!”
“What’s happening?” demanded Ishtar, adding to Persephone, “If she dies here then the other Angels will come and we’re fucked.”
“Not… dying…” gasped Nyx. “Fucking… pregnant! AHHH!!!” Her stomach shifted and swelled even further.
“Pregnant?” repeated Persephone. “We’re going to have a baby Angel?”
“NNNNNGGGGGGHHHUUUUGGGRRRR!” Nyx drew in a breath. “Not we, goddammit. Me! And not a baby. Angels can’t be babies.”
“They can’t be pregnant, either,” said Ishtar, staring at her stomach. “Fucking hell, Nyx, what have you done?”
“GET ME FOOD!” Nyx screamed. “ALL THE FOOD! NOW!!!”
Persephone took off so fast the air shook with the sound of her breaking the sound barrier. Ishtar stared in horror as Nyx’s stomach continued to swell, then she, too, took off.
Nyx was ravenous when they returned. Ishtar came first, bringing back three dead sheep. Nyx devoured them, flesh, bones and all, and still her stomach swelled. It pushed up her breasts, and hung down her legs, and she could feel whatever was inside it moving and squirming. It hurt like a dagger poking into her each time it moved. And still her stomach kept growing.
Persephone landed with an entire roast ox in each hand, and the smell of it nearly drove Nyx insane. Persephone handed the first one over and Nyx tore through it, leaving only grease behind. Nyx’s belly was now so large she could no longer stand; could barely sit up. Still she kept eating.
“MORE!” Nyx screamed. “MORE!!!”
The two Angels flew off again, and to Nyx’s surprise, were back before an hour had passed. Hanging between their two bodies, thirty feet long, was the squirming body of a small fin whale. Nyx’s mouth started salivating even before it had hit the ground. She tore into it with gusto, as her body swelled larger and larger.
There’s no way I can be eating this, Nyx thought as she ripped through the flesh and bones of the whale. No one can eat this much food. Not even the whales eat this much food.
When the last of the whale was gone, she felt full. To her surprise, she had not become as big as the whale itself, though she should have. She was huge, though, her belly as large as the entire rest of her body. She could not even begin to sit up, pinned beneath the weight of her own flesh. She was sated, though, and that was all that mattered to her.
“How…how are you?” asked Persephone. “Do you need another one?”
“No,” said Nyx. “I’m fine.” What little she could see of her body was covered in blood and filth. “Clean me.”
The other two had a quick discussion, then cradled Nyx between them and flew her down to the ocean. Together they washed her swollen, roiling body, watching with horror as something pushed at her from the inside. It took longer than Nyx would have thought possible, but they cleaned her and brought her up to the temple again. They lay her in her nest of grass and flowers in the sun until she was dry.
Nyx lay there, waiting, feeling the pain of the Angel moving inside her and wondering what was going to happen next. Angels could not give birth. Their bodies were designed for pleasure and joy, not gestation. There was no way an Angel could leave her body as a human infant might.
So how will it get out? she wondered.
God surely did not go through this to make Angels.
The sun was just beginning to set when Nyx started screaming.
“What the fuck?” demanded Ishtar, spinning to see who was attacking.
“It’s coming out!” screamed Nyx. “It’s coming out!”
“How?” yelled Ishtar. “That’s not going to fit!”
“It’s not coming out there!” screamed Nyx and the first claw ripped through her flesh from the inside. She was still an Angel, though, and her body healed as fast as it was hurt. Every time the claws ripped at her from the inside, her body healed itself. And every time Nyx screamed with the pain.
Dammit, I am tougher than this, she thought. I fought fucking Archangel Michael and I’ve been near killed a dozen times why does this HUUUUURRRRRTTTT!!!
The creature inside her tried to tear its way out again, and she could no longer form a rational thought. For the next five hours she screamed and squirmed as the thing within struggled to free itself. It didn’t help. There was nothing she could do to speed the process, and nothing the thing inside her could do to escape.
“She is fucked,” said Ishtar, watching Nyx open her mouth to scream for the hundredth time. The noise didn’t bother Ishtar at all. She had heard worse – had caused worse – in Hell, and in truth she was rather enjoying the agony it was causing Nyx. But then, Nyx had left her in agony for sixty-six years. This, as far as Ishtar was concerned, was a good start. “She’s healing too fast for the thing to get out.”
“We have to help her.”
“If she was human she’d push it out her twat,” said Ishtar. “Since she’s not, there’s not much we can do.”
Persephone’s eyes narrowed. She drew her sword and, with a thought, shrunk it into a curved, razor-sharp blade. “There is one thing,” she said.
“Wait until sunrise,” advised Ishtar. “You can see what you’re doing better.”
“I can see through the darkness of Hell,” Persephone returned. “This isn’t even dark, here.”
“Wait anywa
y,” said Ishtar. “See if it can get out by itself.”
“I’m not sure we should,” said Persephone.
“Have you dealt with this sort of thing before?” asked Ishtar.
“No, and neither have you.”
“True, but when humans and animals give birth it takes time, so let’s see what happens by dawn. Maybe her body has to change.” And that way I can listen to the bitch scream a while longer.
When dawn came, Nyx was still screaming.
“Guess I was wrong,” said Ishtar. “Go for it.”
Persephone stepped forward and with a quick cut, sliced open the huge bulging mass that was Nyx’s stomach.
Silver blood sprayed everywhere, rising out of Nyx’s body like a fountain as the layers of flesh pulled apart. Something tall with bright red hair pulled itself out of her stomach and launched itself into the air, silver ichor splattering from it as it rose. The excess flesh on Nyx’s body immediately began retreating, pulling in on itself even as it sought to knit itself back together. Nyx screamed once more then, to her own surprise, blacked out.
Lucifer was raping Ninurta, a pretty male Angel and one still loyal to Nyx, when he felt the world change.
It was odd, he had thought, that some of Nyx’s Angels still refused to show proper obeisance, even though a thousand years had passed. Some of Nyx’s Angels had even tried to rebel against him.
Lucifer switched from his own form to his dragon form, which was three times his size and which made the Angel scream.
Lucifer’s legion – the 666th, purged of all Nyx loyalists – had destroyed the rebellion, of course. The leaders had been tossed into the Lake of Fire, their arms, legs and wings weighted with the heaviest of Hell-stone, and left there to burn and writhe in their agony. The lesser ones were staked out on the fields of Hell, tortured until they were ready to admit Lucifer as their Lord and Master.
Ninurta was one of the lesser ones. Slim of body and limb, with olive skin and dark hair, Ninurta’s fighting prowess had earned him him a place in the 666th and made him a War God in Mesopotamia. Ninurta had never had it in him to be a leader, but had cut down a dozen of Lucifer’s Angels before being overwhelmed.