The Angels' Pride

by Steven Lindsay

Ariadne looked around the colonial building as people started to filter up into the top floor. Hera had done a remarkable job in removing all the rooms to create a single upper story room that while perpetuating her personal Hellenic tastes were blended smoothly with the French style building. The wall had been decorated with friezes of Heaven, with the images of a wrathful Hera slaughtering Angels. A prophecy she meant to live up to?

  There was an altar made of white marble, the underside carved into cows with extremely long horns, their heads raised to hold up the altar. It was mostly bare apart from a few peacock feathers flittering in the slight breeze. Behind the altar was a frieze of a peacock, its fully exposed tail taking up most of the wall. The many eyes of Argus watching all those gathering in their seats. Now that dark was falling the Vampires were quickly filling in the empty spots.

  Everyone was curious to see the new High Priestess of Hera, especially now who she was, and what she had been had spread like wildfire. They were also curious to see what was being offered. Fucking vultures, the lot of them.

  They didn’t remember the Age of Gods. To them, they were just stories. They hated the Angels, granted they were worse for the Daemon races than the Gods, but they didn’t comprehend the nature of the Gods. They were selfish and demanding, they always got what they wanted, and if they didn’t, they got highly destructive. Hera had been among the most fearful with her ferocious temper.

  She turned to face the garden as the scent of jasmine and the other twilight flowers started to fill the air. Out of the window, she could see St Louis Cathedral, one of the most iconic buildings in all of New Orleans. She wondered if Hera’s choice of view had a meaning, knowing Hera it did.

  She gently touched her dress for comfort, Hera had decided to resurrect ancient styles of clothing for her, but thankfully with modern twists. It was cotton, so it thankfully breathed in the humid air, and it was violet with gold trimming and belt. She almost felt like a demigoddess again. It was beautiful, and she was very thankful for that fact. The modern age perpetuated vanity, and Hera had always been more than a little vain. She was an intelligent woman though and knew that beauty was a one of the ways a woman could control men and even other women. Which was why many of her priestesses had been beautiful. To top off the outfit was a small fan made of peacock feathers settled at the back of her head. Thankfully it wasn’t ostentatious but actually completed the whole image.

  She felt like a High Priestess. She almost felt like a demigoddess. And if she did all Hera asked, she would be again.

  She walked into the altar room from the antechamber she had been waiting, a couple of people stood up but most didn’t. They would soon learn their mistake. She was surprised at who stood up; King Valentine, Matriarch Sarah with Senator Clare, and even most surprisingly Senator Worthington. It was only then that she realised there were several Humans scattered amongst the magic races. Important Humans of industry and commerce. Hera’s reach was spreading deep through America and it didn’t even know it.

  More people were trickling up the stairs to lounge at the back of the room. They were waiting, watching with intense gazes. They had come to make a decision, fools didn’t realise they had no choice. They would either join Hera or be removed from her way.

  “I welcome you all in the name of Hera, Queen of Heaven. May you all prosper in her bounty and power.” God, it had been so long since she had partaken in any rituals let alone had to lead them. She couldn’t remember much of what she was meant to say or do. Plus most of it was obsolete in the modern world. That was one thing the Angels religions had never realised. So, for the most part, she was winging it “Today marks a new era when the Gods will rise once again and the Angels will be cast out of Heaven for their blind arrogance and finally made to pay for their atrocities. An age where we Daemons and magic wielders can walk the streets we helped create as who we are, unafraid of watching Angels.”

  She shifted to a more sombre tone “but we have a long path ahead of us, we have to debase the power of the Angels and strengthen ourselves in preparation. We must turn to what Hera offers us.”

  “Why should we do anything for her? We are the ones who have suffered not her.” Some fool yelled from the back.

  “I have suffered more than you will ever know or comprehend mortal. I have seen my entire family slaughtered, my children, my husband, my parents, my siblings and their children. I have seen my friends driven out into the streets of Heaven only to be brutally slaughtered by those upstart bastards. I have been tortured for centuries under the cruel tastes of the Angels. Believe me, I have suffered.” She had appeared next to the fool, her fingers wrapping seductively around his neck before she snapped it clean. The Incubus fell to the ground, but with a snap of her fingers, he was standing again. His eyes were wide open in abject terror. “If you ever question me again that is your fate.” She said contemptuously as she walked up to the altar, sitting down on it to face the audience. She had their undivided attention.

  “We are at war and you have but two options, the Angels or me. That is the harsh reality.” Lightning danced along her skin as she cast her eyes across the crowd.

  “It is time for change, it is time for war but we cannot run in foolishly. We cannot make mistakes for we will get but one chance. We must damage the Angels’ power base as we build our own. Some of you may not believe in who I am or what I can do, but I will change that. America will be remade in the image of my choosing. Those who are loyal to me will do well while those who are not will perish.” She swept her hands and several phoenixes appeared, their haunting song filling the air and raising the hairs on everyone’s necks. The Vampires shrank into their seats.

  “It is a time of change and rebirth, what has been destroyed will be again. Phoenixes now fly, sorcerers are embracing their powers and the Daemons are finally awakening their legacy. But there is more that has been lost and will be reborn, who will offer themselves willingly?”

  A female Vampire spoke “will I be able to walk in the sun?”

  Hera smiled, she had them “indeed you will love the sun very much.”

  She stepped forward, trepidation and want, written clear across her face before she dropped to her knees in front of Hera “Then I am yours to command.”

  Hera reached out and touched her lips, green spreading from the fingertips, turning those blood red lips a brilliant forest green. The green continued to spread out across the sallow black skin, creeping across her face. “Then you will be well rewarded Catherine,” she said as she stepped back from the Vampire.

  Everyone watched in awed silence as the green spread throughout her, tracing along her veins and spreading as a gradual wave down from her head. Her arms twisted, her fingers grew longer before ending in sharp claws. Her Vampire fangs shifted further apart as they grew longer and curved while her whole face underwent a restructure. Rounding and sharpening of various features, giving her a distinctively reptilian cast. To those watching it looked painful, her skin rippled as her bones reforged themselves, but she did not cry out. Her legs snapped together, the limbs rippling and twisting from the skin down, as skin and muscle fused together. She fell forward as her leg strength gave way, Hera caught her in her Divine grasp. Her fused legs stretched out longer and longer, twisting and flexing into a long serpentine tail then spread backwards for several metres. Her frizzy black hair rippled, smoothing out into a black curtain before clumping together and rippling. Her hair looked like a nest of vipers, as the green spread up through the hair it transformed it into living snakes.

  They let out several low hisses as her green skin took on a reptilian sheen. There was a louder hiss as her tail flicked. Hera lightly touched her neck and she slid upright, with a new air of confidence. Catherine looked over her body with intense curiosity before asking “Am I a Gorgon?”

  “Indeed, you are but in the modern image. In my time, they walked on legs and had tusks. Since then they have undergone an evolution in the Human mindscape until they believe Gorgons appear as yo
u do now. An improvement I have to say.”

  Hera left Catherine to adjust to her body “Now I need another volunteer.”

  People looked around at each other but none offered themselves. She raised an eyebrow, a dangerous sign. Finally, an old werewolf came forward “If the Children of the Night take up such an offer so should the Children of the Moon.”

  Hera smiled and held out her hand to him. He walked forward slowly due to age and his face crinkled in pain as he knelt to take her hand.

  Instantly he transformed into his other form. But his shaggy grey fur shortened to short black hair. His snout widened, two long horns grew from his head, his tail thinned and shortened. His hands grew shorter, more humanistic but his paws changed into hooves. His skin momentarily flashed before growing the short black hair on his bovine face.

  “What am I?” he whispered in a low deep voice.

  “You Samuel are a Minotaur, the very first of your kind since Asterion was killed. Naturally with some alterations.” She smiled as she swept her arms wide indicating Samuel and Catherine “They were brave enough to accept change and they have been rewarded and shall continue to be. They are the first of their kind, not the last. In the days that will follow forgotten races will live again. But now your tasks come into play, you must weaken the Angels’ power.”

  “What would you have us do Goddess?”

  Hera turned to face the window and pointed at Saint Louis Cathedral. Violet lightning struck the old building out of the clear night sky. The bolt exploded into the cathedral, shattering the tower across Jackson Square. Violet flames licked up at the building in moments, a blaze that was beyond stopping. She turned to face them “I want every church, every synagogue and every mosque burned to the ground. Every symbol of the Angels shall be destroyed and their taint removed from my empire.” Then she was gone, with no doubt that the tasks would be completed.

  The congregation sat in horrified silence as one of the icons of New Orleans was steady consumed by the fire. Fire trucks and firemen arrived to fight the blaze but no amount of water could battle the Goddess’ all-consuming flames. When the last flame died, there was nothing but a blackened piece of ground, no structural skeleton, even the stones had burned to ash.

  They looked amongst themselves knowing that there were hundreds of historic churches across America. For some, it was a troubling task but there was no denying Hera, she had stamped her mark on each race, their leaders already fearful of failing her. A well-placed fear.

  “Well, High Priestess what should we do?” Catherine asked.

  Ariadne knew she was going to like the direct young woman “We play it carefully and pander to America’s hardly disguised racism. We shall target mosques first, there is still much distrust and misplaced hatred directed at Muslims. We can even use many of the churches as our tools. It should not draw the attention of the Angels. But we shall have to burn a church here and there in apparent retaliation. We shall create a religious war under their noses and have them do the task for us.”

  They nodded their understanding. Despite its power, America was a highly flawed and fractured society. Playing different groups off each other was going to be easy. But most of them knew this was the beginning of the end for America. The Land of the Free would fall, one way or another. Even if Hera had to wipe it off the face of the earth. A prospect all were prepared to prevent.

  The black SUV hurtled through the Mexican countryside, all but screaming America. The locals watched it flash by with bitterness, Americans were so proud of their technology, and they loved to flaunt their wealth. But they also loved to come to Mexico for their drugs and to party. But they looked down upon the locals, most were rich white brats whose only interactions with Mexicans were with their servants. Which perhaps explained their general behaviour, other than the natural American arrogance and stupidity so many of them seemed to live and breathe.

  Much the same thoughts went through the residents of Nuevo San Juan Parangaricutiro when the black SUV turned off of Lázaro Cárdenas and pulled up in front of Iglesia de San Juan Nuevo. The door opened, and one long pale leg gracefully landed on the road. It was followed by another leg before the woman climbed down from the car. To the locals, she embodied the very essence of American culture. From her tall black pumps to her clearly expensive purple dress revealing a fair expanse of her legs to the large black sunglasses and the expensive gold watch on her wrist. Her mass of brown curls caught the sunlight as though she was a picture in a magazine.

  She turned her attention to the church, pulling her sunglasses off to study the two star windows before focussing on the clock. She flicked her hair behind her and with long graceful strides walked into the church.

  They looked at each other, their expressions grim. This was an opportunity too good to pass up. Times had been very hard, corruption was running wild in the government, the drought was continuing into its fifth year, and the agricultural laboratories could not meet the full demand, many had died of starvation. No one was helping them. And now here was this rich bitch flaunting her wealth in their face, wealth that would see them through the next year if they ransomed her.

  Hera slowly walked towards the altar looking over the Angels’ legacy. She had to concede they did have a very firm grasp on vast tracts of the United States and Latin America. While the Americans were fanatics, fundamentalist morons convinced of their superiority the Mexicans were not. But they were deeply entrenched in their beliefs in another way, many people named after saints. As such saints gained a lot of strength from Mexico and it was the saints that were much of the force behind the Angels’ armies. Of course, the Elder and the even more powerful Archs were the mightiest, but they did not often participate in the mortal world, instead leaving it to the so-called Ascended Angels.

  But no Angel could replace a God unless they became one. The land needed the touch of a Mother Goddess or even a Nature God to tame it, heal it, enliven it. As it was Mexico had been invaded by the Spanish, the invasion had destroyed the native empires and had weakened the few remaining Gods left to fight. She didn’t know what had happened to them, had they been killed or were they merely imprisoned? But the world was very sick, a combination of Human activity but more directly the lack of any Mother Goddesses.

  In recent years, much of the world had been suffering even more. Desertification was widespread and rampant, destroying huge tracts of arable land the world over. Pollution continued to soar, raining down from the skies into choked rivers and onto piles of rubbish. Sea levels continued to rise as world weather patterns became increasingly erratic, causing widespread droughts and floods and hastening the extinction of ever more species. Mexico had not been spared despite its faith, droughts came and went, lasting for several years only to be broken with flooding. Famine had wracked Mexico on and off for over two decades. But their desperation only added to the Angels’ strength, the least they could do was reward them for their loyalty.

  Which was what she intended to do.

  She heard the doors creak open, hushed whispers and soft footsteps. She smiled, foolish mortals. She could sense their intent as easily as she could hear and smell them. They reeked of desperation and under that a very palpable anger with more than a little lust. If she had been a mortal woman, she would have feared for her life, of course if she had been mortal she wouldn’t have known they were there. As a Goddess, she had no reason to worry for her life, except from other Gods and Demigods.

  She casually turned to face them as they approached her. They were dirty and ragged carrying guns, ropes and clubs. They were wearied and desperate, outside she knew others were trying to break into her car.

  They started speaking in Spanish, and she absorbed their understanding. Magic was just so convenient.

  One of them started speaking in broken English “You come with us, we no hurt you.”

  She responded in Spanish “And if I refuse Gabriel, what shall you do then?” she found it odd that he was named after Gabriel then she rem
embered that the Arch Angels appeared as males.

  “How the Hell do you know my name?” His first thought was that she was a police officer.

  “I know all your names, all your parents, all your children’s names and all your wives’ names.”

  He grabbed a gun from one of the others and aimed it at her “look lady you are going tell us how you know us, or I’m going to fucking kill you.”

  She gave him a level stare “such language in a holy place, whatever would the Angels think?”

  “Look bitch you don’t know the first thing about God.”

  “I know that he never existed. I know the Arch Angels rule in his name and Humans don’t know the difference. I know that they are ruining the planet with their tyrannical rule.”

  He fired at her in impatience, God damn bloody American women were so annoying. Why were things never simple with them?

  The bullet reflected off her shield, the only sound was the bullet rattling on the floor. She stood up and looked down on them from the altar “first of all I am not American if anything I am Greek. Secondly, that was just rude, and now you have pissed me off, and that is never a wise thing to do.”

  “What are you?” he gasped as all of them started backing away from her.

  She smiled cruelly “your worst nightmare.”

  Flames suddenly erupted next to her, and they screamed as a snake woman slithered out of the flames. She was disturbingly beautiful in a non-Human way but more than anything she was terrifying. She flicked her forked tongue then struck out lightning fast at Gabriel. He fell to the floor holding the bite mark. His eyes went blank within seconds before his body crumpled to the ground.

  Hera waved her hand giving Catherine the permission she was looking for, and as she did so, she magically summoned every person in the town into the church.

  They arrived in a quick flash to find several of their own kneeling before the altar, their hands behind their heads as a fearsome snake woman was feasting on a body. Behind her on the altar stood the most beautiful woman any of them had ever seen.