In one of the small air pockets, he beat his fist against the floor. It opened up a fresh porthole beneath them.
Michael gazed down into the fires of Hell. His heart raced for a moment. He needed to act fast for fear of his brother dragging him down. More than anyone, he knew the consequences of that.
“Are you afraid, brother?” Lucifer said in his ear. “I would be, if I were you.”
Many of the rocks fell into the fiery abyss. Michael struggled against them as they threatened to drag him down as well. Lucifer clung onto him with every ounce of strength he possessed. Since the Great War, he had dreamed of trapping his brothers beneath the earth, Michael most of all.
Michael saw the demon hordes rising up from below. More of the rubble came loose and fell onto him from above. With his left arm, he deflected much of it. It tumbled down through the porthole to hamper the progress of those making the ascent.
Agaliarept and Svengali led the way. Beezelbul smelled Michael’s blood the moment the porthole opened. He was Lucifer’s chief lieutenant and the Chief of the Nine Evil Hierarchies of Hell. The prospect of torturing one of God’s elite aroused every one of his senses.
He shouted to the members of the demon hierarchy around him to deliver Michael to him. Amducious reacted first to his call. The most vicious of all Lucifer’s cohorts, his bloodlust and need to destroy knew no bounds.
A Grand Duke of Hell and vassal of Beezelbul, he rarely strayed too far from him. On his master’s order, he gave the signal. His rallying call echoed throughout the vast expanses of the underworld.
In each of the seven Houses of Hell the torturing of souls ceased in an instant. The Archdemons of the Covenant of the Sephiroth quickly relayed messages to each other. Which one of the Archangels did they have within their grasp?
Lucifer heard them whispering in the depths below. “It is Michael!”
His voice carried to the deepest crevice. Every demon of rank heard it and moved towards its source. An Archangel trapped in Hell? They had to go.
Abbadon was one of the four great Kings. He sat on top of his throne in the Sixth House of Hell. When the call reached his ears, he looked up. He liked to torture the new female arrivals in his domain. Every moment of their time in his House, he subjected them to all manner of debauchery. As favours to the demon nobility, he allowed them to use the women for all their depravities.
The orgy stopped the moment he heard Lucifer call. He waded through the writhing bodies to summon his legions into action. A million insects of every genus crawled over his huge, imposing figure. They covered every inch of his body except for his mule-like head. One of the women rose and rubbed her hand against his thigh. He lifted his foot and pushed her back down.
All sixty of his legions answered his summons. They moved into formation to await his orders.
“To the vaults!” he bellowed. “Bring the Chains of Babylon! We have an important guest!”
They left at once to carry out his command. As Demonic Ruler of the Abyss, Lucifer entrusted him with the care of the mighty chains. Made from solid steel, all five extended to a mile in length. The thousands of links in each one weighed several tons. Shackles hung at the ends of four of them and on the other, a mighty spiked collar. The Archdemons themselves built and fashioned it for the moment they might capture one such as Michael.
It needed every one of his sixty thousand soldiers to move the huge jumble of steel. Every sinew bulged from every muscle. Slowly, but surely, they dragged it along.
“Bring them to the Temple of Baal!” he ordered.
He stepped into his chariot. A dragon stood at the front of the huge iron carriage. It extended its wings and exhaled a long line of fire into the air. When it felt the whip, it flapped its wings and pulled the chariot along at great speed towards the great temple.
On his way, he passed Moloch. Moloch presented a terrifying figure as he trudged through the Abyss, and he dwarfed Abbadon in size. With the body of a crocodile and the head of a bull, his monstrous legs thundered across the wastelands.
Moloch had borne the brunt of God’s wrath during the Great War. As the second son after Lucifer, his Father had expected much of him. He had always greatly envied his three younger brothers. When the split occurred, he sided with the eldest son. God punished him by taking away his physical beauty and casting him out.
When Lucifer created a new kingdom, Moloch, with him, became the first of the ten evil Sephiroth. The Covenant comprised the ten most powerful that God had cast out. Their sole aim was to defeat Michael and alter the balance of power in Heaven. The ten Archdemons against His three sons still loyal to Him posed a formidable enemy. It was this that forced God to agree to a truce with Lucifer.
Only the Christ held any fear for the Sephiroth. The three Archangels they felt sure they could defeat. But then they knew Jesus was God the Almighty in the form of a man.
Moloch’s anger at his punishment had left him bitter and twisted. He dreamed of nothing but vengeance against his Father. To kill one of those God loved the most would help placate his wrath.
Abbadon found quite a gathering at Baal’s Temple. The three-headed beast held court there himself. He had his minions prepare the vast Temple for the Chains of Babylon. With his long spider legs, he stood taller than anyone else present.
The three other great Kings of Hell took positions alongside Abbadon. Amaymyon, Balam and Belial were all demons of immense power. They stood apart from the Archdemons who formed their own select group. Headed by Lucifer, the ten who made up the Sephiroth were the most powerful and feared demons in the underworld.
Michael continued to struggle with Lucifer, but knew it was only a matter of time. His old adversaries in the Sephiroth were coming for him. The sound of the legions dragging the Chains of Babylon across the plains met his ears, too. They chanted as they dragged the chains to the beat of a heavy drum.
The angels had spoken of them many times before. Michael and Gabriel believed them a myth.
When he looked into Lucifer’s eyes again, his brother gazed back with real menace, as if reading his thoughts. “Yes, they are real,” he said, another wry grin forming on his face.
Michael fought even harder than before. He smashed the rubble above him with a forearm. Boulders and fallen trees up top flew hundreds of feet into the air.
Cassiel touched down beside Gabriel and Raphael. “Michael is in trouble,” he said. “We must help him.”
The angels, in their thousands, flew onto the collapsed cliff. With great urgency they removed rocks and other debris. Far below, Michael heard them toiling away. He beat against the huge mound above him a second time. It sent thousands of tons of earth and rock skywards again.
Ahriman, the Supreme God of Evil, incited the other members of the Sephiroth into action. “It is time!” he snarled, looking upwards to the open porthole.
He extended his vast black wings and rose up from the Abyss. Aeshma, Indra, Manah, Sauru, Taurvi and Zairitsha all followed. Moloch and Adramelech remained below. In his current form, Moloch always found flight difficult. He jostled about amongst the demon hierarchy, disturbing many of them with his mammoth tail.
“Save your strength,” Lucifer advised Michael, grinning still. “You are going to need it.”
As more of the rubble fell loose, Michael caught sight of the hilt of his sword poking through. He reached up and grabbed it in his left hand. Lucifer reached for his wrist, but could not stop him retrieving it. When he pried it free, huge amounts of earth and rock crashed down through the porthole.
The two brothers broke from each other and hurtled downwards. Michael saw the Archdemons rising from far below and flapped his wings to check his fall.
Lucifer did the same and spun around to apprehend him. Michael reacted quickly. The moment his brother came within arm’s reach, he brought the sword down against one of his wings.
The blade hacked off the lower portion of Lucifer’s right wing. It also tore a deep laceration across his back. Mic
hael followed it up with an elbow to the side of the head that sent Lucifer crashing down.
Michael rose up again towards the porthole. He feared it could close at any moment. Straining his wings to their limit, he flew through it as fast as he could. He smashed his huge forearms again against the underside of the collapsed cliff.
The three Angels of Hell approached him first. Named Af, Ema and Mashith, they were fallen angels that had not attained any great rank within the demon hierarchy. They saw this moment as a means to boost their status.
Af cursed at him in an ancient tongue not spoken since before the Great War.
“I do not need to be reminded of who you are,” Michael replied. “I had hoped your expulsion meant I had seen the last of you.”
Mashith came at him from the left. He turned just in time to see the fallen angel’s black eyes glaring through him. Mashith extended his jaws to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth. But Michael was far superior in ability. He beheaded the beast before he could deliver his deadly bite.
The black angel dropped down like a rock to the depths below. Ema got in behind the Archangel and grabbed both his wings. Michael struggled to keep his balance, but managed to thrust his sword backwards and drove it through Ema’s midriff.
In the same moment, Af attacked him from the front. He wielded his mighty whip and caught Michael full in the face.
The whip, made of bones from angels killed in the Great War, cut through his flesh. It knocked him back and thrust him into a downward spin. Ema continued to hold on, restricting Michael’s ability to retain his height.
Michael dived headlong to throw Ema off. He then came again into an upright position. It served to bring Ema over his head to meet him face to face. Ema continued to hold Michael by the wings despite the injury to his stomach.
The Archangel drove his sword in a second time. The blade, consecrated by God, burned through Ema’s rotten flesh. It forced him to release his grip on Michael and cower away. Michael rushed after him and brought his sword down against the fallen angel a third time. Ema screamed as his right arm was hacked from his body.
This only served to allow Af to come at Michael from behind. Af dug his talons into Michael’s head. Blood oozed instantly down his face. In a fit of rage, the Archangel drove his sword deep into Af’s black heart. The fallen angel screamed before bursting into flames. He continued to cry out in agony and swirled about in an attempt to dowse them. His efforts were in vain and he crashed to the depths below the same as the other two.
Michael saw the Archdemons draw ever closer. He knew, in spite of his immense power, he could not defeat them all. For the first time in his existence, he felt afraid. If they caught him, it would have dire consequences for him.
He rose back up through the stale air and hurled himself at the underside of the cliff. Again and again, he lashed out at it with all his might. His actions caused the cliff face to spew more debris high into the night sky. The eruption of earth and rock threw many of the angels above off the side of the cliff where they toiled to rescue him.
Up on the surface, the rain suddenly stopped. A brilliant beam of white light dropped from the heavens to the riverbank where Andrei still knelt beside Tania.
The angels looked up. As soon as they saw him, they dropped to their knees. Even the Archangels bowed their heads. Andrei watched his mother drop onto her hands and knees, her head almost touching the ground. He followed suit, still unsure as to what was happening.
Jesus descended the steps. When he arrived by the river, he placed his hands on the shoulders of the two Archangels.
Gabriel and Raphael lifted their heads. “It is good that you are here, Lord,” Gabriel said. “Michael needs you.”
Jesus nodded. “Arise,” he ordered the legions of angels. “And step aside.”
Andrei looked up to see Jesus standing only a few feet away. He noticed the wounds on his hands and feet and realised he was in the presence of the one most holy.
Jesus met his gaze and smiled. “Stand, little brother,” he said, softly.
Andrei climbed to his feet. Tears welled in his eyes as his chest heaved at the wonder that he saw.
“You do not have to bow to me,” Jesus said. “We are one and the same.”
“Time is against us, Lord,” Raphael urged.
“I know, Raphael. That is why I am here.”
Jesus stepped to the edge of the riverbank. He touched the backs of his hands together and moved them in an outward arc. In the same moment the cliff face opened. Andrei looked on in awe as millions of tons of earth and rock fell away to each side.
Andrei watched him step into the ravine he had created. Jesus walked to the edge of the porthole and gazed down. “Come, Michael,” he said.
Gabriel and Raphael flew the short distance to the Lord’s side. They flanked him with their swords poised. Michael flapped his wings and rose up through the porthole. He then touched down between Gabriel and his master.
The Archdemons arrived at a point just below them. When they saw Jesus gazing down, they stopped. Spitting and snarling, they glared at him with hate in their eyes.
“Are you looking to fight me?” he asked them, his tone firm.
None of them answered.
“Then come if you are,” Jesus invited. He waited a few moments for a response. “If not you had best get from my sight!”
They backed away. Jesus followed them with his eyes for a time. When he knew the incident was over, he moved his hand over the porthole and closed it.
He returned to the riverbank where he embraced Andrei. “Be strong. I am always with you.”
Andrei nodded and broke from their embrace. Jesus wiped away his tears with a finger. He then turned his attention to Tania.
She remained lifeless on the grassy edge. A gaping hole showed from her breast where Sonnielion had ripped out her heart. The entire underside of her body still blistered. The broken skin emitted fluids where the boiling steam had scalded her.
Jesus knelt beside her and cupped his hands together. Andrei looked on and saw his sister’s heart appear inside them. Jesus put his hands to his mouth and blew into them gently. When he withdrew his mouth, Andrei saw the organ start to beat once more.
Tears streamed down Magath’s cheeks. She watched him gently place the heart back inside Tania’s chest. With a wave of his hand the hole closed again.
Jesus placed a hand flat against her brow. He closed his eyes and whispered a short prayer in Aramaic. A brilliant white light surrounded her entire body. Jesus stood up and backed away. “Arise, child,” he whispered, extending a hand.
Tania opened her eyes and looked up. She smiled when she saw him there.
“It is not your time,” he told her. “Not for a long time to come.”
Tania stood up and kissed his palm. He cradled her face in his hands and smiled with love at her. “Go with your brother back to your loved ones.”
She stepped away and huddled up against Andrei. Her brother put his arm around her waist and held her close to him.
Jesus turned to the Archangels. “Go. Watch over him until sunrise.”
Michael nodded and picked Andrei and Tania up in his huge arms. Andrei relaxed and rested his head against Michael’s shoulder. At last he felt totally safe.
Blood still trickled from the side of Michael’s face. Andrei raised his head and lightly kissed the trail of blood. “That should help it heal quicker,” he promised, before easing back down again.
Jesus turned away and, with his hands, he restored the landscape and the river back to its original form. He then began his ascent to Heaven. When the angels followed him, he sent them back. “Stay with Michael ‘til dawn.”
Michael escorted Andrei and Tania back to the cave where the gypsies had remained. Andrei’s brothers had returned before them and told the tribe of the things they had seen, to disbelieving ears.
The gypsies looked on in wonder when the Archangels arrived outside the cave entrance. Michael set his wards
down.
Tania ran straight into the cave where she fell into the arms of the one she had known as her mother for the last sixteen years. Helga cried as she held her, relieved to have her back safe and well.
“Do it right the next time,” Michael said to Andrei.
Andrei dropped his head. “I am sorry.”
“Every chance you give them, they shall come. Do the things your mother showed you and all should be well.”
Andrei nodded that he understood.
“Go and rest,” Michael instructed him. “We shall watch over you ‘til sunrise.”
WALLACHIA.
THE RUINS AT TIRGOVISTE.
LATE AFTERNOON. DECEMBER 13, 1447.
Litovoi sat quietly atop his horse and watched Vlad when he rode off through the gates. Samiu waited patiently, not wanting to disturb his master’s line of thought. He could see Litovoi was reflecting on the recent events and, out of respect, he kept his silence.
In truth, Litovoi was thinking of Vlad and of the fine specimen of a man he had become. He knew from their brief time together the son of Dracul had a great destiny ahead of him. The Vlach lived a quiet existence away from the public eye. And yet even they had heard stories, told by travelling merchants who had visited Anatolia, of Vlad’s amazing fighting abilities. Litovoi suspected from all he had seen that, in time, Vlad’s achievements would far outweigh those of Dracul.
“Is he all you expected?” Samiu said finally, breaking Litovoi from his reverie.
Litovoi continued to follow Vlad’s progress. “That, and more. I fear for those that have made an enemy of him. They shall suffer for it.”
“I believe you are right, my Lord. And shall we partake in his revenge?”
“If he calls on us,” Litovoi said, looking now at his trusted friend. “Then shall we have a part in his destiny.”
Samiu nodded, suspecting that day would surely come. “Have we any further business here, my Lord? I caught sight of one or two of those vagabonds in the shadows.”
The Dracula Chronicles: The Path To Decay Page 8