The World of Rhune

     He was still gorgeous, though he didn’t have the fine light hair most angels did. It was the same black she’d been given, only it seemed to be even darker. He wore it simply down, cut to his shoulder, and perfectly straight. Not a hair out of place. Lucifer was tall, upright, and had worked undoubtedly. His arms and legs were muscled, but to be a leader, you needed qualities like that. The way he stood radiated with confidence, and his arms remained crossed over his chest. A small, tiny, crusted dagger was at his hip, complete in a sheath of leather that matched the whip. So the King of Hell had color coordination. Surprise, surprise. Hannista wondered if he had enough regular fashion sense just to have spare clothing. She’d find out later, or run away from this hole, literally a hell hole. And then of course find something else later. But when her eyes strayed to his eyes, she knew that, had been a mistake. Just the hatred burning in them made her heart stumble, stop, and then painfully squelch and restart. They had red as the center of his black eyes. So much grief and hatred and want came from them. For a second. The he glared at her, but his mouth was shaped in a smirk. The on flow of even more hatred made her flinch, the way they dove at her. 

     Hannista quickly shifted her eyes down, and then they stopped on Lucifer’s neck. It was a small tattoo, running in the hollow of his collar bone, in straight black. She looked at the symbols, and read the words. Her hands flew to her own collarbone, but could feel nothing. Was there black there, too?

     Lucifer sighed audibly, with it was good or bad though, there was no indication. “Have your eyes roved enough? I have something important to say, since you’ve obviously looked at every fraction of me. Oh, and my dear, I don’t like to break this to you this way,” Hannista bit back a growl—where were these urges coming from?—she knew that Lucifer way lying straight to her face. Maybe it was also because she knew what he was going to say? Her stomach turned, and acid burned her throat at what she was afraid he was going to tell her. “But you are now…a fallen angel, child. Get used to saying the extra word when you say ‘I love being a Fallen angel’. And I,” he paused, for what else than just the drama and power of the situation, she didn’t know. Maybe just so her heart rate had a few more moments to quicken? Wasn’t it already flying out of her chest as it was? “Am now, your master,” His fiery eyes bored right into hers, but she didn’t even see them. She…was…a Fallen Angel?

    Her mind had expected it, she’d known it, hadn’t she? No, she’d thought she had. The most dangerous part of her hadn’t known though.

     Hannista’s heart.

     But how could this be? No! She wasn’t? She was an angel of God, the Crown! She loved goodness, thrived in it! It did not matter of looks! Did it? She wondered, her argument faltering at it’s climax. She now looked evil, black and black through. Even her eyes; the gate way to her heart.

     “Hannista, you are a Fallen Angel now. You see your, erm, problems at controlling your two prior impulses? Because that is in your soul now. It is black, maybe corrupted to you, but reborn and made over to me. Your body, is simply a reflection of it now, Hannista. It is simply a reflection of the corruption of your soul,” Lucifer coaxed quieter than his normal voice, yet no softer or gentler.

     Hannista closed her eyes, burning with shame and hatred for the words he spoke. The words! How Lucifer twisted them, why did they sound right to her ears? It scared her half way to death. “Hannista, I do nothing to my words but proclaim them in the darkness of my world. And child, do not call me Lucifer. I am now not your brethren as I might once have. I am now your master, and I, to you, am Satan.” Satan had moved closer to her during her speech. She was now a crumpled figure on the floor. He made no effort to console her, to touch her, speak a word to end her suffering. She knew he could do it, simply say ‘stop crying’ and she’d be forced to. She’d heard of it, the words that weigh more than a million men. Hannista utterly hoped it was a silly thing to believe in such an idea. What she did know was that it was not a foolish one.

     “Why are you still on the floor? Uh Hannista, really you kill me. Suck it up, welcome to Hell, fallen angel. Pain and torment thrive here, and personally it’s not that bad, because it’s also where freedom lives too.” Satan was recoiling his malicious black whip, slowly and letting it glint as it wound around itself again and again. “And really, that so-called heaven up there? It’s not, no. Do you get a choice in much? Or do you think you do? ‘Oh, Crown! Thank you for reminding me that I should go and hang out with the new angel!’” Satan had turned his voice surprisingly high, and surprisingly so much like her own voice.

     “ ‘Why, can’t I sleep a little bit longer?’ ‘Oh, no, you must come immediately child!’ ‘Wait, why is Lucifer so bad? Why is he called evil?’ ‘Oh, angel, because he revoked me for a righteous cause! So I banished him, and you shouldn’t like him, make me feel better say I’m right!’ ” His voice was a perfect imitation of her’s; it was chilling how he could do that. Hannista’s eyes opened slightly though. He couldn’t mimic the Crown’s. The imitation, it was off, less strong and deep and radiating; like from a past memory. Even then it didn’t ooze the love it normally gave off. Speaking of love, she wasn’t going to believe the Crown didn’t. “Heaven…is not a sham,” she sucked in a breath; which just so happened to be the amount of time she needed to make a spit second decision. “Lucifer,”. Hannista couldn’t even raise her eyes to say it, and just the effort of saying it left her breathing sporadic, quick, and nippy. But the heated room temperature rose, sweltering hot and the flames on the walls turned blue.

     All of them.

     A thin sheen of sweat broke out immediately upon her brow, and thin drops started to fall from her chin. All in less than ten seconds.

     “YOU! You little child, you think you’re so smart. Oh, I’m Hannista and I can backtalk to the devil! Yeah well guess what, child, you can’t. I AM the devil for a reason, and it’s about to start now. You just wasted your one shot at doing a less malicious job as my servant, my slave, Hannista.” The ugly black whip in his hands cracked, causing Hannista to flinch, and her heart went beating again. More like galloping, was it just her vision? Or was her chest actually moving, her heart was so violent. Then again, her eyes were pricked with tears. Satan’s words hurt and whipped just as bad as the whip he carried in his hand. But there was a difference. Physical pain could heal.

     You never knew when mental could.

     Satan cracked the whip again, closer and closer to her, forcing her closer and closer to the flames. The whip flashed again, and Hannista shrieked as it flew a couple inches past her face, right into the fire.

     It happened to only be about a foot behind her.

     Satan drew it back again, the ends hot and red. And he knew he had her corned. Tears fell down her face as her back started to protest in pain from the heat, but there was nothing she could do. She was afraid, and he knew it. And she wasn’t going anywhere.

     “Now, little miss fallen angel, you get to serve me by eternal punishment. You are going to enjoy the punishment of the mortal world. Those dingy humans, made in the Crown’s image. I believe that, alright. Dumb as bricks all of them, weak, puny. Ugly, stupid, unable to help themselves. You get to help me out with my wonderful tormenting process. You, Hannista, will serve me by torturing those mortals to realizing evil is better. Help me corrupt the Crown’s ‘chosen’ race.”

     Each word slashed at her mind. Little knives, rusted, twisting in her head. Then there was an equal set of them digging into her heart. How could she…no…she…why!

     “Enjoy it, Hannista! You’re going to be doing it for the rest of your existence,” Satan’s face was so fully of hatful happiness, it seemed to just burn away any hope she’d had.

     Satan looked on her for one more moment, her sopping, crumpled mess sprawled and burning inside and out against the deep blue flames. He smiled then. “Say hi to Jerik for me, would you?” His tone was so calm, yet she’d never heard something radiate so much malevolent spirit to it. Hannista then shrieked even more.

     The Devil had decided to show his wings.

     Huge, they were twice as big as hers and filled the room easily. There was hardly any breathing room, let alone plain room. Fire burned, still blue, upon his wings where they touched the blue flames from the wall. Charred black skin and feathers covered the rest. Slight places where cracked and bone showed through slightly.

     “Oh, yes, Hannista. I am, the definition, of evil,”

     Then the wings descended on her, engulfing her in their mass and flame, cracking when they slapped together.

     Lucifer withdrew his wings then, neatly tucking them against his back. She was gone, only a burnt circle where the newly fallen angel had been. “Oh, Hannista. Enjoy your new life,” He sneered quietly. The flames around him slowly started to fade, acquiring red in them slowly, until it was only blue at the bottom, and the orange replaced the blue.

     The colors faded at the same pace as Lucifer exited.