Angel Warriors - HellBound: Section 4

Angel Warriors – Book 2: HellBound
By: Melinda Reynolds
Section 4:

Chapter Seven (continued)


Lucifer strode over to Mihdael, offered the angel his hand. A faint smile touched his lips as he recalled a similar gesture, thousands of years ago, that seemed like no time at all had passed. The hand that gripped his was firm and strong, Light merging with Darkness. He sensed the vast amount of untapped power that awaited only the warrior’s command. When the angel was once more on his feet, Lucifer retained his hold, and spoke in a low, cajoling tone, “Join with me, Mihdael. Your feelings for me are as strong as ever. And I, I have never forgotten you, never forgotten the support we gave each other…

“Join with me: my Darkness and your Light. Separate, we are powerful; but together? Together we would truly be invincible. Satan could not stand against us. We would be one; one in mind, in body, in spirit…”

The angel’s cool gaze was calm. “And who would rule, Lucifer? Who would determine the course we would take?”

“Was I not Archangel? Am I not ruler here, second only to Satan? Fallen or not, my rank remains; my spirit would be stronger.”

“And might not my spirit be stronger?” Even as he watched, the cuts and wounds that crossed the warrior’s body began to heal; the Light flared briefly, cleansed the blood and grime away. The powerful wings flexed then folded over his smooth, unmarked back. “I am a warrior, created to be stronger than any Angel or Archangel; only my vow to God prevents my causing them injury. Angel I might be, but my power is second only to Michael. Might I not take over, and guide your spirit back to Heaven?”

That was a possibility he had not considered; a risk he was not willing to take. He shoved the angel away from him, far enough that the Light no longer touched him. “Once again I offered you everything, asking only your loyalty in return. And once again, you deny me…

“You have brought down your own punishment, Mihdael. And, Warrior or not, you can be made to suffer…”

“Any pain that you inflict upon me will be short-lived, Lucifer. The pain, and suffering, of the body is nothing as compared to the eternal agony of a damned soul. Can you truly say that you prefer this existence to the one you enjoyed in God’s Realm?” Mihdael reached out to the Fallen angel, needing to understand the attraction that held Lucifer in bondage to Evil. “What is it that holds you here? How can you truly enjoy this…this world of Evil? How can you allow such…degradation of your spirit; then, inflict that degradation, that pain, on another? How can you find pleasure in another’s suffering, knowing you are the cause of it? Can this be the happiness you seek; is this the pleasure you gain from your existence?”

“And who is to say that pain is not an extreme form of pleasure – just as pleasure is an extreme form of pain. Can you not then say that I cause them extreme pleasure?”

“Give not your convoluted logic to me, Lucifer, for I know thee too well. Does thee truly find happiness in this…existence, in your actions?”

There was laughter, bitter, without humor; his eyes burned with a cold, yellow fire. “There is no happiness in Hell, warrior. There is no contentment, no joy, and no…love. The flames of Hell burn away such gentle emotions from all who pass through its Gate, leaving only the charred embers of memory… Memories that beckon and torment with illusions of what once was, and can never be again. For Hell is torment and punishment, not only for those condemned to its eternal fires, but for those who rule it as well. For there is no perversity, no degradation, no profanity or sin great enough to satisfy our need for it – and that is our Hell.

“Knowing that we cannot reach the depths of Evil that we seek, that we cannot achieve enough pain and suffering that will satisfy our depraved desires…” His voice became a hoarse, grating sound as he advanced toward the angel, the Darkness of Evil nearly overwhelming, “There must be more, and more, and still more; while within us the desire, the need, grows ever greater, consuming us from within until only the shrieks and cries of the tortured damned can assuage that inner craving of depravity, if only for a short time.

“And all the while knowing that there will never be enough!” The dark tone plumbed the depths of despair, a misery of desolation kept at bay by a deeper, hatred-fueled rage. “Knowing that our Father no longer wants us, or needs us, or … loves us… Knowing that we are forever devoid of His Grace…”

The icy horror of Lucifer’s words chilled his soul, and Mihdael felt the raw agony of the ultimate despair and hopelessness that had turned love to hate, Light to Dark, and Angel to Demon. It was lingering death of the spirit, a truly soulless existence – and Mihdael could not bear to see it in someone who had been so close to him. “By God’s Grace, Lucifer, return to Him, to us. Stay not here where your soul withers and dies with each passing second; in this miasma of evil and darkness that enshrouds your Light. For thou art Lucifer, the Light-Bringer…Thou, who was God’s brightest Angel—”

“…no…” The denial was almost a whisper, the word itself hardly sufficient to voice his protest.

“…God’s gentlest, kindest—”

“NO!” Anger strengthened his voice, eyes narrowed with fury, “No, I was never… that weak--!”

“Thou was strong in God’s service,” Mihdael continued, in a quiet, gentle tone, “Thy weakness was with Satan.” He looked up into the demon’s features, seeing not the creature of darkness that he was now, but the Angel of Light that he had been. He could not believe that Evil had eradicated every vestige of goodness that had formed the core of his being. “Find the strength that God gave to His most-loved Archangel. Find that faith, that hope, again—”

“ ‘Faith, hope’? You damnable fool!” Lucifer lashed out, hardly aware of his action. The warrior easily sidestepped the blow, catching his wrist in a gentle but firm grip. And the sympathy, the sadness, he saw in the angel’s blue, all-knowing eyes only served to infuriate him further. “I had that, and more! I would have had God’s Realm and Heaven’s Army in my grasp, if not for your betrayal, if Salathiel had not forsaken us!

“Hear me well, angel, I will not crawl to him! I will not beg for what is rightfully mine! I would be miserable in Heaven, crawling at His feet, enslaving myself to Man.”

“And art thou not miserable here? Art thou not enslaved by Satan?”

Lucifer shook his head, knowing that no matter how much he wanted Mihdael to understand, the warrior would never be able to comprehend his existence in Hell. “Here, I endure—as ruler,” he spoke in a calmer tone, but the hard, sharp edge remained. “I hold sway over the damned souls, and I ensure that they suffer as I suffer, therefore gaining some measure of satisfaction—however brief—from their torment.”

Mihdael looked at him for long moments, then the grip on his arm loosened and fell away as he stepped back. “Then…we are now and forever, enemies. I can no longer call you friend, no longer hope for your redemption, and no longer love you as my brother. For in denying God, you deny me as well.”

The anger, the rage that turned caution to action, burned through him, unchecked. How dare this… this angel, the lowest of the Hierarchy, treat him, once Archangel and now the Prince of Darkness, as one would an insignificant servant? “I care not for your friendship, or love. What I want from you, I take. I do not ask; I do not beg. I take. That is the grace given me as the Regent of Ultimate Evil.”

He advanced toward the warrior, who did not retreat from either his power or evil. “And you, you will serve me as you serve Satan. You will bow to me, and submit to me; and there will be none here to aid you. For God cannot break His Covenant with Satan, will not interfere in Hell’s Realm… He can only work through you; yet, He, by His own words, has given you unto Satan.

“You are an angel lost to Heaven, commanded to submit to Satan’s will. That alone gives me power over you, to do with you as I will; and you will be a martyr to your faith, as all angels are…”

“Thou faces a warrior, Lucifer,” Mihdael said, without anger. He felt only sympathy and pity for the Fallen Angel who had given up everything God had granted him. “Thou faces not a ministering angel, nor a heralding angel, nor even a guardian angel. I will not lie down and meekly allow your subversion of me, for that would be a subversion of God as well. Through me flows the energy and power of God and Heaven, which you have, thus far, challenged with impunity. I do not wish to harm you, my once friend and companion; I will do so only if you force it upon me. And do not rely upon our past association to influence either my perceptions or actions.”

“You have one great fault, Mihdael – and not your pride, for pride is not a detriment here. You have a kind heart, and a warrior can ill-afford to have a kind heart. Its gentleness will stay your arm; the love that you have for all that exists will be your undoing. Your own nature will defeat you, and deliver you unto us. For kindness, gentleness, and love have no place in Hell, and will be burned from you as from any damned soul—and you will have nothing left. There will be no hate to sustain you, no depravity or desire to drive you, for those qualities were never in you to be drawn upon now.”

“Your words ill-conceal your fear. If you truly believe all you have said, then face me now– for even without shield or sword, my power is more than sufficient to turn you away—”

“And tell me, Angel of God,” a voice colder than the depths of Hell interrupted, “is your power sufficient to defeat me?”

Both turned, surprised at Satan’s sudden appearance. Her cold, imperious gaze swept over them, then settled on Lucifer.

He quickly knelt, “My Lord Satan, your will is mine.”

“You do not answer me, angel? Just as well.” She approached, looking him over carefully, and not at all pleased at what she has seen – or hasn’t seen. “Have you not done as I have ordered, Lucifer? I see no marks upon him; I see no evidence of any punishment at all!”

“Your commands were carried out,” Mihdael intervened, drawing her anger to himself. “I healed the wounds caused by the whip’s lashes, as I will heal any harm done to me.”

“Again you underestimate me,” she said, annoyance replacing the anger. “Because I am female, you think my power is less than yours, or Lucifer’s? You cannot heal any injury I cause.

“Shall I prove it to you?”

“You need prove nothing to me. I believe you are as Evil as you profess to be.”

Lucifer almost cringed, but Satan only smiled, and then laughed. “At last, someone who recognizes me for what I truly am. I could grow very fond of you, angel…

“Very fond indeed…”

Lucifer watched Satan’s fawning attentions to the angel with narrowed eyes and conflicting emotions. It was obvious Mihdael wanted nothing to do with her; he didn’t seem to be at all affected by either her beauty or the power she offered. But that didn’t matter, for Satan had made the warrior his rival – and no one, especially an angel, was going to supplant him as Prince of Hell.

Yet, he found it difficult to raise his hand against one who had been so close to him…so…loved.

“Lucifer,” Satan’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “You will leave us now…”

His last view of them, before he vanished from sight, was Satan’s long arms entwining around the angel like the coils of a snake.

CONTINUED in SECTION 5: "Angel Warriors - HellBound: Section 5"