Satan's Vessel

6.

Lucifer stood from his marble throne, face lifted to the ceiling, feeling, listening, sensing.

Though he was confined in his deep, fiery prison he was still a part of the world above. An integral part, in fact. He had to be. How else could he fill so many hearts with darkness? Such weak hearts.

It was both a good thing and a bad thing—this minor shift in the prophecy.

Lifting his arm, he fisted his hand and slowly pulled it down, dragging what remained of his dark servant into his castle. It appeared through the volcanic rock ceiling. First as a part of the darkened heights, then as its own entity. Little more than a shifting shadow that descended like a drifting feather.

In a way, it was almost beautiful.

But then it hit the floor, and it did so in a gooey mass. Lucifer turned his fist. Quickly, it began to congeal into a quivering blob that bubbled and hissed as it struggled to pull itself back together.

For the next minute it was a squirming, mewling hybrid of life and death that thrashed at Lucifer's feet. Boils burst. Scorched skin peeled away as a mouth yawned between blistered lips. Its yowls of agony echoed around the chamber. Half-formed fingers clawed at the floor. A head started to form, pushing through melted tissue with a loud pop! It howled again.

'Enough!' Lucifer said. 'Speak to me. Tell me your truth and I'll free you from your nightmare.'

'We found her,' it croaked, its voice hoarse and breathless and wet. Yellowish black liquid gushed between its lips and onto the floor. 'Then lost her.'

'Unforgivable.'

'They attacked us. Angels of the light.'

Lucifer frowned. 'How many?'

'Two.'

'Who were they? Describe them for me.'

'I cannot.' It smacked its blistered lips in apology. 'I was burning.'

Lucifer folded his arms as his hands began to tremble with rage. 'Did you at least see her?'

'She was young ... and tall.' A boil burst. More liquid dribbled from its mouth.

Lucifer waved his hand in dismissal. 'Of course she was young. Did you see her?'

'Pain. There was pain—and fury. It corrupts her heart. It eats her soul. Sadness. Fear. Loneliness. She is black with it.'

Lucifer cocked his head as he tapped his lips.

'Vengeance. She reeked of vengeance.'

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. 'Anything more?'

'I buuuurned.' His servant continued to squirm and quiver. Half-melted tissue lapped over itself like jelly. Parts stuck together, then ripped apart with little wet smacks.

Lucifer turned and walked back to his throne. He sat down, crossing one leg over the other as he thought about this new information. He curled his hands over the arms of his throne, gripping them tightly as he struggled to contain his excitement.

His dark servant moaned pathetically. Annoyed, Lucifer flicked his hand. Immediately, the mass stopped its seething, hardening into solid form—if not something quite fully formed. It scuttled away, vanishing to join its mangled brethren in the darkness.

Vengeance. Loneliness. Fury.

Despite the unfortunate turn of events, Lucifer felt good. He felt pleased. The angels of light, whoever they were, were going to need all the help they could get.

The girl was his already—and they didn't even know it.