And when she reached the throne room Nyx saw three things.
The first was her Angel, hung upside down between two pillars of Hell-stone, her flesh naked, her legs and arms and wings spread wide and chained to the pillars. Her red hair dragged against the ground, but her blue eyes were still unblinking, her face still expressionless. Around her a circle inscribed with runes and sigils glowed red in the darkness of the room.
The second thing Nyx saw was Lucifer, standing behind her Angel, holding one end of a jagged-edged Hellstone-bladed saw that rested in the cleft between her Angel’s legs. His beautiful face was twisted with anger and joy and his muscles were tensed, waiting to saw through the flesh of her Angel.
The third thing she saw was Ishtar, missing an arm and her wings, her bloody head broken open, pinned to the wall of Nyx’s throne room like a broken butterfly.
All these things she saw in the instant before she was struck so powerfully that her entire body crushed to the ground, the bones of her legs and spine and ribs breaking and folding in on themselves.
She wanted to scream, but could not draw breath. Wanted to struggle, but could not move a limb, wanted to cry out, but could not find her voice.
“You have gravely disappointed me,” said Tribunal from behind her. She could not turn her head, but she could feel Him, feel the waves of His anger flowing over her, feel how badly she had disappointed Him, and how terribly, terribly wrong she had been to do less than she was asked. Her soul crushed in on itself as her body had done, grinding down smaller and smaller until there was only a small, bleak part of her left, desperate for His approval. Her eyes, the only part of her that could move, flicked back and forth, desperately searching for Tribunal.
“Do not look for me,” said Tribunal, His voice dripping with a contempt that burned into her soul. “You are not worthy to look upon me. Not worthy of those gifts that you received from me and squandered when you used the Word a second time,, let alone the Paradise that I was offering you. Your lack of faith, your lack of belief in me, has brought you to this end. You disgust me.”
Nyx felt her soul crying out, though she had no voice to give it.
“I had hoped,” continued Tribunal, “That you would have the strength to overcome your love for the Angel; to make the sacrifice necessary so that you and all your brethren could achieve Paradise. But you were weak. And so, your brethren will have Paradise without you.”
Nyx cried silently, knowing that He was right, and knowing that, given the chance to do the same again, she would. She shifted her eyes from their search for Tribunal and caught sight of Epipheneia, staring directly at her.
“My Angel.” Nyx opened her mind to Epipheneia, “Can you hear me?”
“I can, my creator,” said Epipheneia. “Do not allow yourself to despair.”
“I am sorry.” Nyx’s grief at her failure overwhelmed her. “I am so sorry.”
“Mother!” The word snapped through Nyx’s grief, forcing her mind to focus. Epipheneia’s voice roared through her mind. “Listen to me, Mother!”
“I… I’m listening.”
“This little Godling is nothing, Mother. His works are nothing, and to bow down to Him is to forget that you are the Queen of Hell, and one of God’s true Angels.” Despite being hung upside down, despite her chains, Epipheneia sounded strong and sure of herself and not afraid. “When He kills me, He will be no more powerful than He was before. Less, because He will no longer have you serving Him. This I know.”
“But… but He is my beloved….”
“He was never your beloved,” said Epipheneia. “He was never anything more than a selfish little Godling, set out to destroy us all.”
“He cannot be…” Nyx tried to make sense of Epiphneia’s words. Is this the truth? Can she see what I did not…
“Kill her,” said Tribunal.
No! Nyx tried to scream.
“Be strong, Mother,” said Epipheneia. “Do not let Him win.”
Slowly, steadily, Lucifer began sawing.
Epipheneia screamed as the jagged teeth ripped through her flesh, tearing her open. Her blood was not silver like the Descended Angels, or Gold like that of the Angels of God. It was brilliant green, like the small water plants that floated on the surface of a pond, and it shone with a life-energy that was so out of place and foreign to Hell to seemed to change the very surface of the ground it landed on as it exploded out of her body, spraying Nyx and Lucifer and everything around them. Lucifer laughed and cut faster, ripping the saw through the bones of her pelvis. Nyx struggled to move but her body would not respond, struggled to speak, to plead for her Angel, but could not.
With nothing else to do, Nyx opened her mind and joined it with Epipheneia’s, feeling her Angel’s pain as Epipheneia felt it. Nyx used what little strength she had left in her mind to shield Epipheneia from the worst of the agony.
The saw cut through the last of the pelvis and began moving faster, ripping through intestine, bladder and bowel, until it came to ribs and slowed down again, grinding against her sternum.
“Stop,” said Tribunal. “Take it.”
Lucifer stopped sawing and reached into Epipheneia’s body. His hand dipped into green blood and ripped flesh and came up with her heart. It beat as strongly as if she was whole and hearty, even when he ripped it away from the veins and arteries and held it out.
“I’m so sorry, my Angel, my love,” said Nyx to Epipheneia. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop Him.”
“You… still… can…” Epipheneia’s voice was weak in Nyx’s mind. “You must… before… He destroys… everything.”
Tribunal stepped into Nyx’s line of vision. He held up the still-beating heart in front of Him so she could see it. Then He put it in his mouth and bit down on it. Green blood burst from His lips, and behind Him, Epipheneia’s body exploded in a ball of green and white light that swirled where she had been. Nyx tried to breath it in, and choked on it. The cloud flew towards Nyx, settling on her and sinking into her, giving her strength and clarity of mind, even as her rage built. My Angel. My daughter. My daughter! Her body was starting to heal. The first of her vertebrae was cracking and popping itself back into place. It would be long and slow and painful, but when she was whole…
“Put her in the box,” said Tribunal. “And throw her in the lake.”
Nyx’s last sight was of Ishtar, still hanging on the wall, hopelessness in her eyes. Then demons stomped all over Nyx’s body, crushing and breaking her arms and legs and ribs and pelvis until they could be bent, flesh tearing, jagged ends of bones sticking through, to fit into the box they had waiting. They shoved her in head first, and let the weight of her broken body crush down on her.
The box itself had spikes inside it, sticking out from all sides and up from the bottom, perfectly designed to maim her further as they closed the spiked lid. The box had holes in the sides, and through them, Nyx could see the demons pick her up and carry her out of the palace and down the path to the Lake of Fire.
“You cannot die here,” said Tribunal, knowing she could hear him. “Not until God himself is destroyed. Until then, you will suffer greater agony than you have ever known. And when I have destroyed God, I will turn my attention to you, and you will suffer so greatly that you will beg me to end your existence.
“Take her.”
They wrapped the box in chains of Hell-stone so thick that even if Nyx had been whole she would have had trouble breaking them. They put Hell-stone weights on the chains, so large that no single Angel – no dozen Angels – could move one by themselves.
A hundred Angels flew into the air and grabbed Hell-stone wires. At a shouted command from Lucifer, they flew, straining and struggling to raise the box into the air and pull it out over the Lake of Fire.
At a command from Lucifer, they hovered over the center of the Lake.
“I know you can hear me, Nyx,” said Lucifer. “Enjoy your pain.”
The Angels released the box. It fell into the Hellfire Lake, its weight dragging it i
mmediately from sight. The many holes in the sides of the box let in a flood of Hellfire that engulfed Nyx in unspeakable agony.
“Now what?” asked Lucifer.
“Now,” said Tribunal. “The Earth is yours. Let your Angels roam as they will, and do what they will. I will go back to Heaven, and I will block the gates that lead to Earth. Your Angels will have reign until I call for you. Then, you and I shall remake the worlds. We shall destroy God and take his place, and be masters over all creation.”
“And when will that be?” asked Lucifer.
“Soon,” said Tribunal. “Amuse yourself with your rebels and your souls, and I will call upon you when the time is come.”
At the bottom of the Lake of Fire, screaming in silent agony, Nyx felt the Hellfire stripping the flesh from her bones, even as that flesh struggled to heal itself. The bones beneath it struggled to heal as well, but the spikes inside the box kept them from joining together and healing as they should.
And as the Hellfire burned her flesh, she was visited by the memory of every cruelty she had ever committed, every vile action she had ever done, every pain she caused another Angel or human. And more than all of those, she relived again and again the moment she was cast out of Heaven, and the moment she let her Angel die.
In the midst of her screams, in the midst of her agony, Nyx found a small, quiet place in her mind. I am the Queen of Hell, she reminded herself. I will not be destroyed. I will be victorious.
…Then the pain overwhelmed her again, and she could do nothing but scream silently into the hellfire that filled her mouth.
Coming Soon:
Book 2 of The Descended
John Patrick Kennedy, Plague of Angels
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