Those sacrificed to the demon Molech by Brandon have to learn how to survive in Hell.
The Devil's Pact, The Hell Chronicles
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2015
Chapter Two: Sacrificed to Molech
Note: Thanks to b0b for beta reading this!
Saturday, September 28th, 2013 – Mayor Colton Bray – Tacoma, WA
The Majestic Brandon, the supreme God of mankind, gasped and moaned atop the almost comatose body of his wife, Desiree. I stood not far away before the great fire lit in the center of the jail's exercise yard, my wife Yoon at my side. Desiree's face was bloodied and battered, beaten unconscious for defying Brandon. The foolish woman was loyal to that false god Mark, and her husband had to brutally chastise her.
Shame filled me for ever worshiping Mark Glassner as a god. Luckily, Brandon had come along, awakened me to his divinity, and captured the false god Mark. He lay imprisoned somewhere in this very jail, his body battered by Brandon's soldiers.
There could be no doubt in my mind that Brandon was a god. I had been standing with Mark before the courthouse this morning when Brandon's soldiers had attacked. Mark had fled like a coward, leaving me and my wife—whom he had fucked only moments before—to the mercies of his enemies.
But Brandon was merciful once Yoon and I swore our allegiance.
I gripped my wife's hand. Yoon was a radiant creature, short and petite, her Korean face round, graced with a lush smile and sparkling, almond-shaped eyes. She had been a major support to me during the exhausting mayoral campaign last year.
The heat from the fire washed over me, crackling with its hunger. We weren't the only ones in the courtyard of the jail. Women captured by Brandon, but not selected for his personal harem, crowded naked and afraid, under the watchful eyes of his soldiers.
“Why do you think our Lord needs this fire?” Yoon whispered.
“Something grand,” I answered her, exultation soaring in my soul. I was permitted in the God's inner circle, allowed to witness him at his most intimate.
“Yes, it will be,” General Brooks said. He was a tall man, his graying hair balding. He stood with his back ramrod straight dressed in army fatigues. He was the commander of the US Army's I Corps and Joint-Base Lewis-McChord. All the soldiers on the military base had joined Brandon's cause, led by this man to attack Mark and usher in Brandon's divine rule.
“What is it for, General?” Yoon asked with excitement.
“Our Lord God has commanded my silence.”
“Oh, of course,” Yoon smiled. “But will my husband and I be permitted to witness what grand action our God performs with this fire?”
“You two are necessary,” the General said, his face somber.
Yoon smiled, but her hand gave me an excited squeeze. “I'm so glad to be helpful,” she answered, concealing her true feelings.
I nodded. “Indeed. Imagine our rewards.”
Yoon's smile grew hungry. She was an ambitious woman. We had plotted out my political career so many times in bed, dreaming of claiming that ultimate prize—the President of the United States. Surely our God will reward my service.
“God, I love Viagra! Three times without rest,” our God laughed. “And I definitely feel like a fourth. What do you say, Desiree? Want to be on top, this time? My knees are killing me.”
“I'd rather die, el de atras,” his wife slurred.
Yoon made a disapproving noise. Desiree deserved worse punishment than she had received for her continued insolence.
General Brooks marched over to Brandon. “My Lord, sunset approaches.”
Brandon rose, his naked body round and short. You would never know he was a God just by looking at him. But physical appearances were always deceiving. The God looked down at his battered wife, his seed leaking out of her raw pussy. Brandon ran a hand through his balding hair as he considered his wife.
“I can't have you looking all ugly,” Brandon said with a shake of his head. He bent down and touched her. With a single, muttered word, our God performed a miracle. Scarlet light enveloped Desiree. When the light faded, all of Desiree's injuries had been healed. “Stand up, Desiree, I want you to see something.”
His wife obeyed, rising on unsteady feet. She lifted her chin, her back straight, her face full of defiant pride. She was fit to be the God's consort. I had never seen a woman more beautiful than the cream of her nut-brown skin, her heavy breasts swaying, or the perfection of her face.
I prayed Brandon could break the spell poisoning Desiree's thoughts and chaining her to the false gods.
“You are familiar with the Magicks of the Witch of Endor?” Brandon asked.
Desiree nodded.
What was the Magicks of the Witch of Endor? Was it a book?
“Well, it teaches a variety of ways to summon demons,” Brandon continued, leading his wife to the fire. “They all will make Pacts with you. The only problem is the cost. Most demons want your absolute worship and obedience to grant your wishes. While others will have you perform tasks that will seem innocuous, at first, but will actually lead to your downfall. There are only two demons that have fixed prices: Lucifer, whom Mark and I both have already dealt with, and Molech. Of course, Molech's prices are very demanding.”
Did our God get his powers from the same source as the false god? Confusion trembled through me.
Brandon held out his hand. “General Brooks.”
From behind his back, where it must have been tucked into his belt, General brooks produced a long knife. The knife's blade glinted orange and yellow in the firelight as it flashed through the air. What was he going to do with it? I stared in fascination at the blade.
Brandon struck, sinking the blade into my chest. Hot pain flared through me. My heart screamed in agony. I stared down at the blade sunk in my chest, my blood blossoming red through my white shirt. Why did my God stab me?
Yoon screamed in horror next to me, her hands gripping my side. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask my god what I had done wrong to deserve such a punishment, but only blood poured out. Thick and salty, choking my words.
General Brooks shoved me into the bonfire. Fire engulfed me, licking at my flesh. I burned, agony pouring into my body. I tried to scream, but only fire escaped my mouth. I was being consumed, devoured, destroyed.
Yoon fell to her knees, sobbing her grief.
My God stared at me, clutching the bloody dagger. He spoke. “Molech, I give you this offering of noble blood.” His words cut through the roar of the fire and the agony of my torment. “Cloak yourself in coals and flames and appear before your humble supplicant!”
A fiery hand seized my soul. I was ripped from my body.
I was falling, falling, falling into darkness.
Into fire.
A great, fiery being rose, following the path my soul fell, using my death to escape into the world. His name was seared on my soul. Molech. I was his, sacrificed to him by my God, my soul chained to the demon's blackened soul. I landed on coals, my flesh cooking as other blackened skeletons howled around me.
I screamed and cursed my hatred of Brandon. He was no true god.
No god would brutalize his worshipers like this.
Agony kissed me. I rolled my body, trying to find comfort on the endless sea of coals. My flesh burned, but was not consumed. Around me were all the victims that had been sacrificed to the terrible demon Molech, their flesh consumed over thousands of years. But they still writhed in pain, even reduced to nothing more than charred skeletons.
A flaming figure fell into the coals beside me and shrieked in pain.
“Yoon,” I moaned. My wife's body was naked and blistered. Her thighs were blackened. I understood what that meant. When Molech had chained me, I learned of his brutal lusts. My poor wife had known Molech's embrace. She had been raped to death by the flaming monster.
Anger roared into me. I crawled across the coals to my wife. I seized her hand. She squeezed back, sobbing flaming tears.
“Colton,” she moaned. “He...he...”
I grabbed Yoon, pulling her fragile form onto my stomach. I lay with my back to the coals, forcing myself to endure the pain to protect her for as long as I could. She shivered and writhed atop me, weeping flames onto my chest.
Another woman fell upon the coals, also brutalized by Molech. She screamed her torment. One by one, the bastard Brandon sacrificed woman after woman to the demon. They came in regular intervals. First five, then ten, twenty, forty, then sixty women howled about us, their flesh cooking.
I couldn't do anything for them. I could barely protect my Yoon. I held her on my stomach until the pain was too unbearable, and then I would roll over, dropping her back on the coals as my belly pressed into the heat.
She'd scrambled onto my back, clinging to me. I didn't know how long I could keep protecting her at the sacrifice of my own flesh. I loved her, but the pain was never ending, all-consuming. Every moment I protected her increased my suffering.
Mad moments trickled through me where I hated her. Where I just wanted to dump her on the coals and witness her suffering. Why should I burn in agony alone? Why shouldn't she suffer?
I fought those terrible urges down, clinging to my love. Her voice whispered in my ear, thanking me for my kindness. I clung to that, to her touch, to the memories we had when we lived. I fought against the oppressive pain of Hell.
And then a change happened. The chain about my soul shattered.
The coals grew cold. The torment ended.
A figure fell into our midst. He was a scrawny being made of dying coals, his fire cooling like the ground around us had. The pain began to fade. I regained my full senses. I stood and Yoon rose beside me. The burnt flesh faded into pink skin, my body healing.
I frowned. I didn't heal, my body merely returned to the way I believed it should be. This wasn't the material world. We were in the spiritual. This had been Molech's realm, and he shaped it into the bed of coals to roast his sacrifices upon.
But now he lay broken and battered, groaning in pain. Something had happened above. Someone had defeated the demon and robbed him of his powers. A great, powerful hatred filled me. The other sacrifices rose, the fresh ones looking around, some with hatred on their faces, others fear. Many ran, fleeing the blackened skeletons cackling with madness.
The skeletons fell on Molech, tearing at his coal flesh. He screamed and howled as his victims feasted on him. The women that stayed, the citizens of my city of Tacoma, watched with obvious glee as their rapist and murder was brutalized.
“What do we do?” I whispered, holding my wife's healed body.
She looked around. A great, searing wind blew across the coals, reeking of sulfur. Molech was defeated, his power broken, but we remained condemned into Hell.
“You need to lead,” she whispered. “There has to be other horrors down here. You're the Mayor. These are your citizens. Lead them.”
“How can I?” I swallowed hard, looking around at the blasted world. The coal beds stretched for miles, roaming with blackened skeletons, the victims of Molech who had been driven mad by eons of torment. The fresh women that had fled were seized by the twisted victims, pulled down and savaged by charred, bony fingers.
Fear clutched me. The victims had been tormented for so long, they had forgotten their humanity. And we were surrounded by them.
I had to be strong. My will had reshaped my body, perhaps I could accomplish more. I swelled up, my body growing stronger. I was the Mayor of Tacoma. I had led a city of 203000 people. And my leadership was still needed.
“Ladies,” I bellowed. “We have been freed from our tormentor. Your rapist had been defeated and is being brutalized, but now what do you do?” He pointed at the women that fled and the horrors stalking around them. “Will you flee into the night to be victimized again? Will you stand alone while the terrors of Hell make easy pickings of you?” It was like being on the stump again, speaking before rotary clubs, PTA meetings, and town hall meetings.
“What are you saying?” asked a strawberry-blonde woman, her arms folded beneath her naked, pierced breasts.
“That's it,” Yoon whispered in my ear. “Be the leader.”
“We need to band together,” I continued. “We may be weak apart, but together we can be strong. We can defend ourselves from the predators that haunt this terrible place. None of us asked to suffer this torment. None of us deserved the agony Molech inflicted upon us. But that's done. There is nothing we can do to change that. All we can do is seize this moment and carve out some existence.”
“It's Hell,” another woman said with a bitter snort, tossing a mane of blonde hair. “You make it sound like we can find some measure of happiness here. Some place of safety.”
Molech had shaped this entire place into a bed of coals with his will. Could I do the same? I had to try. Molech's will was already slipping. Beneath my feet, the coals melted like marshmallows in the rain, dissolving into sharp, red rock. The true landscape of Hell emerging. Molech once had power and had shaped miles of this twisted realm to his cruel delights.
Maybe I could shape mere feet.
I concentrated, willing green grass to appear at my feet. I pictured the grass spouting out of the red rocks, appearing as lush and vibrant as a golf course's green. My teeth ground together as I fought against the material of Hell.
“That's it, dear,” Yoon whispered, seizing my hand. “Inspire them.”
Her will mixed with mine. She somehow sensed what I was doing and gave me her will, her power. The ground rippled about my feet. Green blades of grass sprouted, so vibrant against the blood-red rocks. It was life. It was beauty. It shouldn't exist in Hell, but I had created it anyways.
“Together, we can change things,” I declared. “If we combine our efforts.”
The redhead and the blonde stared at me in awe. “How do we combine our efforts?” the blonde asked, her bitter tone vanished. The other women gathered, surrounding me.
“Tell us how,” another woman called out. Twenty gathered around me.
“I...” I looked at my wife, not sure what to say.
“It's like with Molech,” she whispered. “Why did he need sacrifices?”
I shook my head. What did she mean?
“Swear to him,” Yoon declared and fell to her knees. She clutched my hand and, while looking up at me, pronounced, “You're my master and my husband. You have my fealty, my soul, forever.”
I gasped as energy sprang up between me and my wife, a chain flashed for a moment about her neck, connecting her to me. I felt more power swell inside me, channeled to me. She still had her own will, but I felt like I had doubled in strength.
“Yoon,” I whispered, touching her face in awe. “What have you done?”
“One of us has to lead,” she answered. “One of us has to grow strong. That's what Molech had done. That's why he demanded sacrifices. We all were chained to him. We all gave him strength. Well, someone broke those chains. Didn't you feel the connection shatter when he fell, our power snapping back into us?”
I nodded.
“I'll do it,” the redhead declared. “You seem better than the alternative. At least you know how to do things. You're my Master. My...God, I guess. I'm yours, Mr. Mayor.”
More power swelled into me. One-by-one, the women knelt and swore their fealty to me. I could almost feel them. I sensed them at the back of my mind, little nubs of power. The more that swore, the more malleable Hell felt to me—the easier I could shape it. The fear in their eyes seemed to melt away, replaced by hope as green grass grew in a wider circle, driving back the hellish landscape.
“We're never going to see our families again, are we?” the redhead sobbed, pressing her face into the grass. “That asshole sacrificed us.”
Her anger fed me. I drank in her emotional energy. More women cried, mourning their lost lives, feeding me their energy.
Why did I drink it in? Why did it pool inside me? Their emotions were mere drops compared to the power their souls fed me. Single drops of rain. But a downpour could flood a town.
“That's why they torture us,” I whispered. “To drink our pain. To gain even more energy from us.”
“That's horrible,” my wife gasped.
Love poured from her. I held her, drinking it in. Thirty women knelt around me, forming clothes out of their imagination to hide their naked bodies. They were quite lovely. A forest of beautiful women. My women. A thought flashed through my mind, dark and lusty.
“Oh, honey,” my wife whispered. “What are you thinking about?”
“I...well...” I choked on my words. Their clothes began to melt away, my subconscious power at work.
My lust stirred, my cock hardened. The redhead looked at my turgid shaft swelling before her. “What did you do to us?” she whispered. “I can feel your presence in my mind. You're...molding me.”
“Am I?” I gasped.
She licked her lips and lust flowed through the bond, replacing the anger.
“Sorry,” I swallowed, forcing down my desires. I didn't have any right to force myself on them.
“No, don't be, honey,” whispered my wife. “We swore to you. You're like Mark or Brandon.”
“I'm not like Brandon,” I growled.
“Well, you have power and women. It's...sexy.”
I gaped at my wife, her hand sliding down to stroke my cock. “What are you saying?”
“They swore to you. I'm sure they'll be amenable.”
“I...I think maybe...yes,” nodded the redhead, shifting her hips.
I pictured Mark surrounded by all his beautiful women. His sluts. All happy to fuck and suck and please him. Why couldn't I have that? With my own goddess at my side. My Yoon. My hand drifted down my wife's naked back, squeezing her plump buttocks.
A woman screamed.
Fear poured into me.
An African American woman on the edge of the grass was pinned by one of the burned, skeletal sacrifices, bony fingers tearing into her flesh. The pain fed me. It was even more powerful than the lust. No wonder the demons tortured us.
But that wasn't me. I wasn't going to let my followers suffer.
More skeletal sacrifices crawled and skittered towards us, abandoning the ravaged remains of Molech. They had new prey to exact their mindless rage upon. Fear shot through my followers as they screamed and fled.
I had power. These women were counting on me.
I shot my will out and seized the twisted thing clawing the Black woman. I chained the thing. It's mind was burned away, it's soul a wrecked, battered vessel with barely any will left. I seized it, gripped it, and commanded it. The skeletal thing released the Black woman. I healed her wounds as she crawled away.
“That's it,” my wife whispered. “Defend us.”
I seized more and more of the pitiful creatures. Ten, then twenty. Every new one was harder to grab. It took more effort to overcome their tiny wills. Then I had thirty and forty. The strain grew greater. But the ones I dominated turned on the others, defending us. We were ringed by pitiful husks.
I strained and dominated fifty. The last few I had to heave against their souls, pounding my will upon their shattered minds.
Sixty skeletal things defended us. I drew energy from the poor, piteous things. Not as much as my women, but it increased my power. They moved in packs, swarming around the edge and ripping at the bony flesh of the sacrifices I failed to dominate.
“We need walls,” the redhead whispered. “A place to live. You know, defensible.”
I nodded.
“What's your name?” Yoon asked, kneeling down and cupping the woman's face.
“Kayleah,” she answered.
“You are his first concubine,” Yoon said and kissed her on the lips.
My cock grew hard again. My wife was so beautiful, her delicate face melting against the feisty redhead as they kissed. Their lust bloomed as their tongues dueled. Desire blossomed in the other women's eyes. They looked about, drawing nearer to each other.
“My harem,” I smiled, standing in a field of beautiful women.
I enhanced them a touch, perfecting their natural beauty, erasing any imperfections that marred their youthful appearance. Then I sculpted my body. The fat melted away, muscles swelling, rippling with strength to match my powers.
Walls ripped up in a large circle, stone battlements to protect us. The poor, twisted wretches scaled the wall, our untiring defenders. A keep blossomed around us, the grass melting into a comfortable carpet, pillows scattered about, a large mattress at the center.
“You're getting the hang of it,” purred my wife, looking about. “Very...middle eastern. Though the carpet clashes horribly.” She concentrated, drawing on my power. I released it, letting her use it, and the carpet rippled, replaced by polished marble. “Better.”
Yoon kissed Kayleah, the two ladies sinking onto the mattress. Their hands roamed each other's bodies. Kayleah's breasts were perky cones topped with pink nipples. Yoon played with the silver rings piercing her breasts, stretching out the nipples.
Kayleah's legs parted, my wife's hand sliding down her sleek belly. Kayleah was shaved, her lips flushed, and she gasped as Yoon's fingers ran through her lips. Kayleah's hips bucked, her sighs liquid as she writhed and panted. Yoon shoved two fingers into Kayleah's depths, pumping them in and out.
Around us, other women paired up, falling into kisses as the lust mounted. Their soft moans echoed through the room. Our own heaven in the midst of Hell. My eyes darted from delight to delight. Women kissed, licked, and sucked. Some were sixty-nining, others conjured sexy toys, pulling on the power I held, shaping reality to their liking.
“Are you just going to watch or are you going to join us?” purred my wife, her fingers rapidly plunging in and out of Kayleah's snatch.
“Yes,” moaned Kayleah, her hips bucking. “Join us...”
“Master,” purred Yoon. “He's your Master and I'm your Mistress now. You swore your soul to us.”
“To him!” she moaned.
“We're married,” Yoon laughed. “What's his is mine. Right, dear?”
“Of course, honey,” I smiled, kneeling on the bed.
The women parted, patting the mattress between them I stretched out, their bodies pressing against me. Yoon's fingers, sticky with Kayleah's juices, stroked up my new, muscular body, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. Her fingers reached my lips, pushing into my mouth. They were sticky with Kayleah's tangy flavor. I moaned as I sucked her fingers clean.
My hand sought out Kayleah's breasts and brushed her pierced nipples. I seized her silver rings and tugged. She gasped, her lisp nuzzling at my neck and her wet pussy humping against my muscular thigh.
“Umm, your wife turned me on so much. Her finger felt nice, but I want this in me.” Her hand reached my cock, stroking me.
“Yes!” I moaned, my hips bucking up as she jerked my cock.
“Pleasure my husband, slut,” purred Yoon. She perfectly channeled Mary. “Straddle his hips and ride your master.”
“Yes, Mistress,” moaned Kayleah.
Kayleah rose, her strawberry-blonde curls falling about her body. She straddled me, guiding my cock to her dripping snatch. Yoon nibbled on my ear, her wet pussy rubbing on my leg as another woman sank her pussy down on my cock.
I groaned. Kayleah's cunt was hot and wet, massaging my dick. The pleasure roared through me.
“Does the little slut's cunt feel good on your dick?” purred my wife.
“Yes! Ride me, whore!”
“Yes, Master!” Kayleah gasped, sliding up and then slamming back down. “Oh, Master. That's so nice. Umm, your cock is stirring me up. Oh, fuck!”
Kayleah swiveled her hips, stirring her cock around my cock. I groaned, thrusting up into her hot tunnel. Yoon kissed and nibbled at my neck as she humped harder against my thigh. Her pussy smeared juices about my leg as she ground her clit against me.
“Sit on my face, Yoon,” I groaned. “Let me taste you.”
My wife let out a throaty laugh. “Umm, that sounds wonderful.”
“Yes! Sit on his face. Then I'll suck on your titties while fucking Master's cock.”
“What a delightful creature you are,” my wife purred, her legs straddling my face. Her shaved pussy lips dripped above me. I opened my mouth, catching a drop of her spicy flavor.
“Let me taste your pussy,” I groaned. “I love eating you, Yoon.”
She sat down. My lips slid through her labia. She shuddered, her hips twitching, sliding her hot, velvety pussy about my face. I probed her folds, my tongue darting in and out. Yoon moaned as I ate her out, her voice low and throaty.
“Come suck on my tits, slut,” Yoon moaned.
“Yes, Mistress.”
The pressure of Kayleah's pussy shifted as she leaned forward. Her cunt tightened as her mouth slurped and sucked at Yoon's tit. My wife groaned, her hips shifting more, grinding her pussy on my lips. I stabbed my tongue into her depths.
“Oh, yes,” purred Yoon. “Both of your mouths are amazing.”
I sucked her clit into my mouth, nibbling lightly, just the way she licked it. She squealed for joy, her hips bucking. I nibbled and sucked, loving every inch of her flesh. I wanted to make my wife cum hard.
“Colton,” she gasped. “That's it! Oh, fuck! Keep sucking my pussy. Oh, honey, yes!”
Yoon let out a piercing gasp. Her thighs tightened about my head. Juices squirted into my mouth. I drank them down, savoring my wife's orgasm. Paroxysms of joyous gasps burst from her lips as she struggled to breath. I kept licking her, prolonging her orgasm.
“Colton! Yes! Yes!” She let out a throaty laugh. “That was amazing, dear.”
She slid off of me. My wife leaned over me, her lips descending to kiss my pussy-stained lips. My cock throbbed and my balls tightened. Kayleah leaned back, riding me hard. Her breasts jiggled, her piercings flashing silver as she fucked me.
“Cum in the little whore,” Yoon whispered. “I want to eat your cum out of her twat.”
“Fuck, that sounds hot,” I gasped.
“Yes, yes!” gasped Kayleah.
Yoon reached out, her thumb rubbing Kayleah's clit. The redhead slammed down on my cock. Her back arched, and her strawberry-blonde hair flew about her shoulders as her cunt massaged my cock. Her writhing pussy was heaven, her cunt eager for my cum.
“Fuck!” I groaned as my cock erupted.
Pleasure surged out of me. My body tingled with every explosion. I basted her cunt. Kayleah smiled, shuddering in delight as load after load of my cum saturated her womb. Yoon purred in delight, pushing Kayleah off of me. My wife latched her mouth to Kayleah's cunt, licking my cum as it leaked out.
A Hispanic woman pressed her body against mine, her breasts heavy, while a Black woman, the very one I had saved from the skeletal demon, engulfed my cock with her mouth. I groaned as she cleaned my cock, her mouth bobbing up and down on me.
“You are so handsome, Master,” purred the Hispanic woman.
“What's your name, slut?” I grinned.
“Maricruz,” she moaned.
“How would you like to help this other slut...”
“Tonya,” a muffled voice answered—the Black woman didn't lift her mouth from my cock.
“Why don't you help Tonya clean my cock.”
“Gladly, Sir,” giggled the Hispanic woman.
She slid down my body, licking at the base of my cock as Tonya bobbed on the tip. I reached out and squeeze Tonya's heavy breast, pinching the nipple between my fingers. She moaned, sucking harder.
My stamina never flagged. I was dead. My balls didn't need to recharge. Our orgy lasted for days. Our bodies heaved together, kissing and sucking. I knew every last woman, reveling in every hole they had. I shot my cum in their asses, cunts, and mouths. They licked and sucked each other, drinking my cum from each other's bodies.
Once we had fully satiated our lusts, we began to explore hell. The women fashioned weapons and took out squads of the sacrifices as protection. Molech's territory was vast. And other souls, other lesser demons, had begun carving out their own chunks.
We warred with a bestial man called Nicodemus. He had a hoard of the sacrifices to defend him. He wanted my women. I crushed his skull beneath my boot. He didn't die. No one died in Hell. But he diminished, his power flowing into mine. Our realm expanded, our walls pushing out, driving back hell and making our paradise larger, better.
I constantly worried that one of the great powers—Dagon, Chemosh, Astarte, or even Lucifier— would appear and conquer this corner of hell. I managed to hold back all the lesser powers that scrambled on the fringes our realm, but the big boys were out on the horizon, vast beacons of power. You could feel them like an itch beneath your skin.
But they seemed to be preparing for something larger, something beyond our measly domain. Dagon's territory was the nearest, and his forces were marshaling. Great hosts of demonic beings flocked to him, assembling his mighty armies upon the hellish plains. Something was about to happen. All of Hell buzzed with excitement.
And then it happened.
The Gates of Hell opened on to the world. Everyone in the Abyss could feel its opening. The foundations of Hell were rocked as the barrier weakened. But only the most powerful passed through the gate. All the Greater Demons with Lucifer at the van, led their hordes upon the living world and closed the door behind them.
They abandoned Hell to those of us that remained.
“Things are going to be messy,” Yoon whispered. “Chaos will reign in Hell.”
“It already does,” I pointed out.
She shook her head. “Power hates a vacuum. You know that. Who's going to fill the void left behind by Lucifer and his ilk?”