Never Just One Apocalypse

by Karen L Mead

  “You can’t fight them all,” Cassie said. “Sam, I know you’re tough, but seriously, you can’t fight them. You might be a match for one of them!”

  He grinned.

  “I never said I was going to fight them.”

  Chapter 63

  Dot was aggravated that her plan had failed, but one didn’t get to being as old as she was by holding onto negative feelings. Once the Necromancer had thwarted her, she was more than happy to work together toward their shared goal.

  “How long is this going to take?” Sam said as she teased the threads between dimensions.

  They were standing in front of the Warehouse, the big building where the roots of her tree still rested. Since she had weakened the fastenings of this reality in this particular spot to make her tree, she could, in theory, use it as a jumping-off point to other realms. It wasn’t something she did often, however.

  “I do not know. It is an unusual task.”

  The Necromancer looked impatient.

  “The last time I did it, it took literally thousands of years, so I shouldn’t complain.”

  Dorothy shifted her gaze from her work with the threads to look seriously at him.

  “You are more than you were.”

  “Yes and no. I remember a few things, but most of the knowledge is gone. I could never have that kind of knowledge and stay human…or, well, mortal. I was never human.”

  “I see,” she repeated. She only knew the smallest part of what had happened to him, but she had enough sense to know that she shouldn’t inquire further. Her interests concerned the planet, and whatever quest he had undergone was clearly beyond that plane.

  After about half an hour, she had found what he was looking for. They both emerged in Tartarus, falling into salty ocean water. The water came up a lot higher on her than it did for Sam, so she began to tread water.

  They were surrounded by Watchers, who were shocked by their intrusion.

  What is the meaning of this? Do you intend for us to consume you and then use your own portal to invade your world?

  “Not hardly,” Dot said.

  Sam took a deep breath.

  “You shouldn’t eat her, but you must consume me,” Sam said to them. “It is your only chance.”

  The Watchers turned to each other, blinking, communicating. They looked back at Sam, still confused.

  Why would you offer yourself to us in such a manner?

  “Because if you don’t get rid of me, I’ll consume not just you, but everything. Everything that exists. It’s my nature.”

  A flurry of communication, once again.

  That cannot be. You may be of Divine stock, but you are part human…you could not consume us if you wanted to. You are weak.

  Sam gestured to Dorothy.

  “As we discussed,” he said quietly, and sent the bats her way.

  The Watchers reacted defensively, but still realized that the flurry of bats were not a threat to them. Instead of attacking, they flew in a circle above the assembled beings so that Dot had a canvas to project her spell upon. Her forest animals could not come here, and she would not wish this place on them even if they could. The bats, led by a willful queen, were made of sterner stuff.

  She showed the Watchers the memory Sam had showed her: that of Sam combining all the different energies within himself, and becoming an abomination the likes of which even abominations like themselves had never seen. They shuddered and made queer noises as they watched the visuals of the awakened Sam devouring them, reducing them to little more than bones in seconds.

  When she had finished the spell, there was another burst of communication. Dot hoped they would hurry it up, because even for her, doing this much magic was exhausting. It was getting difficult just treading this accursed water.

  This is a trap, their leader said finally. Even if that vision is real, why would he offer himself for death? He is tricking us.

  “No,” Sam said, shaking his head. “You don’t understand, I hate what I am. I don’t want to become…that thing. I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to die, but my only hope is for you to put me out of my misery. Otherwise, I’m doomed to destroy it all, eventually.”

  Yes, a trap.

  Dorothy raised her voice.

  “Have you no senses? You can hear his sincerity. He is truly afraid of what he is destined to become. If you cannot tell that, then you are not only blind and deaf, but stupid as well.”

  Sam lowered his head, exhausted. Nothing he’d said was a lie.

  Despite themselves, the Watchers knew truth when they heard it, and could not deny what Dot had said.

  Very well. We shall oblige.

  “Thank you,” Sam said. It sounded like he had a lump in his throat. Dorothy couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling.

  It is a shame, said one of them. A seventh sense told Dorothy that it was the one known as Zaqiel.

  He was going to be a good match for Little Daughter, give her many healthy children.

  Little Daughter will have no shortage of suitors, said another one of them wryly, if human emotions could even be attributed to them.

  Then they all jumped on Sam and began tearing him apart. Most people, even non-human creatures, would have looked away in fear and disgust. But Dorothy just watched, a mild expression on her face.

  Chapter 64

  “How did you know?” Metatron said, looking at the Watchers from afar. They were screaming, carrying on, trying to rip out their own eyes—at least, those that had eyes. They couldn’t consume their own essences, but left without other options, they discarded what was left of their Divine forms and became demons. Soon, they would no longer be confined to Tartarus, but confined to Realm.

  “I didn’t,” Sam said, watching where the remains of his destroyed body sank beneath the waves. “I suspected.”

  As a spirit, Sam didn’t breathe now, but he went through the motions of taking a deep breath.

  “God, is that what it feels like to be eaten alive? I’ll have to apologize to Azazel.”

  “I still do not understand,” Metatron said. He didn’t usually admit ignorance to his charges, but like with his Chava, this was a special case. “How did you know that consuming your essence would make them destroy themselves?”

  The one his granddaughter called Sam looked a little smug.

  “When I became one with the Almighty, I saw what the Godhead thinks of them. How disgusted he is, that he’ll never forgive them. They didn’t know that…I think they were in denial. But when they consumed me, they knew everything I knew. Including the fact that they are worthless in the eyes of God. They can’t stop themselves from becoming demons now.”

  “And you sacrificed yourself for this, so willingly? Metatron asked. He was impressed.

  “I don’t know,” Sam said. “I knew dying was necessary but…I didn’t plan for this to truly be the end. I guess I was living in a dream world,” he said, indicating his non-corporeal state. “I thought I’d think of a way to come back after I died. Still confused by being mortal again, I guess.”

  “It is a shame,” Metatron said, “But you have done well. I would have had no objections to you serving as a mate for my sweet little Chava.”

  “…Thanks?” Sam said, clearly perplexed.

  “Look, I’m not one to say I told you so, but…oh wait, I am. I told you so,” said Sammael, appearing from nowhere. Unusually for Sammael, he was wearing immaculate white robes.

  Metatron seethed. Very little rattled him these days, but Sammael’s presence always set him on edge. The very idea that such an irreverent, disrespectful creature had once held the sacred office that he now occupied was infuriating to him.

  “Yes, you were correct. I did not expect this one to merge with the Godhead in order to reset the situation.”

  “You’ve always had a problem seeing the obvious when it’s right in front of your face,” Sammael said, nodding. “It’s that poor education you had back in Biblical times, didn’t really encou
rage much imagination or critical thinking, did it?”

  “Dad?” Sam said, confused. “What are you doing here?”

  To Metatron’s surprise, Sammael beamed with joy.

  “You finally called me Dad! I can’t wait to tell Helen. Only took thirty years. Maybe being dead agrees with you, but still, I can’t let it stick.”

  “You have no power over me,” Metatron said. It took tremendous force of will to stop himself from shaking. “I will reap this soul, as is my duty. Your time in this role is done.”

  Sammael blew air out through his lips in a Bronx cheer. “Oh, c’mon. Are you seriously putting yourself up against me, Noch? Nochy-boy? You were a human, for crying out loud.”

  “And you are fallen. You are not what you were, and no match for me,” Metatron said, clenching his fist.

  Sam looked between his father and Metatron, surprised. Clearly, whatever he had been expecting after his own death, it hadn’t been this.

  “Oh, foolish little former mortal. You really believe the PR,” Sammael said. He was standing on top of the surface of the ocean waters, as though they were solid.

  “Do you remember what the Almighty said when he created the first thing that was not him? ‘Let there be light’?”

  Metatron didn’t bother to answer. Sammael sauntered over to him until he was right in the Angel of Death’s face.

  “My name is the Lightbringer, you know. When God called forth light into the universe, that was me; I am literally the first thing anyone ever did. And you think you can defy me?”

  As a high-order angel, Metatron didn’t sweat, but he would have if he could. He couldn’t deny the logic of what Sammael was saying; the demon lord had been extant since the beginning of time, which Metatron himself had not. Sammael was a former Archangel, likely the most important, and he was very powerful in his time. Perhaps none of that mattered now that he had fallen to the Lower Realm, but if he had even a fraction of his former strength….

  While Metatron fretted, Sammael took advantage of his indecision and put a hand through the center of his chest, killing his form. The last thing Metatron was aware of for some time was Sammael’s laughter.

  ***

  “Why did you do that?” asked Sam, looking down at the corpse that had been Metatron.

  His father ignored the question.

  “So typical. If he had attained his true Divine form right here, I wouldn’t have had a chance against him. But he was so frightened that I might be telling the truth, he dropped his guard and let me get the drop on him. Just so on-brand for Enoch, the well-meaning schlep.”

  “But you just killed the Angel of Death,” said Sam, feeling like a slow child who was just now catching up.

  “Yes, I did. Temporarily of course, because that’s one essence I certainly don’t want to consume…I’ll bet that level of dumb is contagious. Cassie definitely got the brains in this family. Anyway, he’ll be fine in no time. But for now, the position he held is vacant. And I’m the only qualified candidate.”

  “What are you saying?” Sam asked. Maybe it was part of being dead, but he felt slow on the uptake today.

  “It means, bouncing baby boy, that I’m not a demon anymore. My services are needed in the Higher Realm once again. I’d love to think your mother will miss me, but that would just be flattering myself, right?”

  Then he seemed to hear something, because he looked up to the sky in Tartarus and shouted.

  “Yeah, well, whose fault is that? I didn’t make the rules, boss! It’s your world, I’m just living in it!”

  He shook his head, exasperated.

  “Honestly, he doesn’t think things through and then blames everyone else for it. It’s infuriating. Oh well,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m feeling the pull of a lot of souls that need reaping, so I guess I’m done here. Right after I return you to life. As the Angel of Death, I have the right to reject a soul every now and then. I only want yours after it’s properly ripened, say in another seventy years or so. It’s just plain unacceptable in this raw state.”

  Sam just looked at his father, like he had never truly seen him before.

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me yet,” said Sammael as he transferred Sam out of Tartarus. “I’m nerfing your punk ass. That thing you did, where you ate the whole universe? That kind of thing would just look bad on my watch.”

  Chapter 65

  After Sam had left The Daily Grind, off to do God-knows-what, Cassie had gone back to her house to go back to sleep. Even though she had woken up at DG, she was still exhausted from what had happened at the SATs and needed more rest. She also didn’t want to be conscious; thinking about what Sam had said when he kissed her goodbye made her feel hopeless, and she didn’t want to feel that way. For now, blissful oblivion was preferable.

  When she opened her eyes again, she was shocked to see Sam sitting at the end of her bed.

  “You!” she shouted, overjoyed, then pulled him into an embrace.

  “Seems like I somehow managed to survive,” he said softly.

  When she pulled away from him, she did a double-take. It was Sam alright, but there was something different about him. His eyes were still dark, but not as dark as the mahogany brown that he used to use to cover up his natural red. Instead they were lighter, more of a chestnut color, with a splash of grayish-white by the pupils. Something about them reminded her of the instant when a drop of rain hit the forest floor.

  “You’re human,” she said, feeling a wealth of emotions build up within her.

  He smiled sadly. “I am. I took care of the Watchers, but I had to kill myself to do it. My dad became the Angel of Death again and saved me, but he couldn’t bring me back the way I was. Maybe he just didn’t want to. In any case, the days of you being bound to me are over.”

  Cassie sat up and tried to concentrate. It was true; where their bond had once been, she felt nothing. The darkly magical smell of him, which she’d always secretly loved, was gone. It was replaced by a much more subtle scent; the scent of a well-washed human male.

  “Are you okay?” Cassie asked.

  She knew that Sam had hated the responsibility that his powers imposed on him, hated living with the fear that he would accidentally hurt someone. But saying you wanted something and getting it were two different things. She imagined that being resurrected without the powers he’d enjoyed for his whole life was disturbing, at the very least.

  He leaned back against the bed, supporting himself with his arms; her stomach did a leap at the realization that he was on her bed, and there was no one else around.

  “I think I’ll be all right. I’m worried about how this is going to affect everyone else. I can’t just issue an announcement, ‘Attention: I’m not a demon anymore,’ because that would put everyone at risk. But as long as we can figure out a solution for that, I can live with the rest, I think.”

  He made eye contact with her and smiled again, and the butterflies in her stomach continued to addle her. It was amazing how different his smile looked with his new eyes; he looked younger, more relaxed. He looked like a man who had gotten home from a hard day of work and was now ready to enjoy himself.

  “I will miss having you in my evil clutches, but oh well.”

  Cassie moved closer to him and put her head on his shoulder.

  “Your clutches were never really that evil, you know.”

  “Even so. I have no power over you now,” he said definitely.

  Cassie looked at him again, and felt viscerally that what he had said was not true. Sure, he might have lost his magic, but there was more than one type of power in the world. And for some reason, looking at his beautiful eyes and his well-muscled, masculine body, in some ways she felt like he had more power over her than he ever had before. And right now, she didn’t mind it.

  Not giving him time to stop her, she jumped into his lap and kissed him, flattening her breasts against his chest and caressing every part of him she could get he
r hands on. This time, he didn’t push her away, instead gently caressing her shoulders and her back. When he started caressing her more intimate parts, she tipped her head back and made happy sounds. She supposed those sounds were called moaning, but to her it sounded more like little gasps of happiness.

  “Now, are you sure….” he asked softly. It was clear that he didn’t want to go through another round of her exciting him to the point of release and then pushing him away.

  Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned.

  “Mmmm, I don’t know. Why don’t you read my mind and find out?”

  She giggled at the annoyed look on his face.

  “Sorry, but I can’t do that anymore. Tsk, like salt in an open wound….”

  She cuddled up against him, putting her head against his chest.

  “Oooh Master, take me. Make me your slave.”

  “You should have asked for that last week.”

  “Use your evil magic on me!”

  “Your timing is abysmal, Little Witch. Do you know that?”

  As she laughed hysterically, he pushed her down onto the bed, forcefully but with enough restraint that she wasn’t hurt. When he fondled her, she couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Okay, you don’t have to be quite that gentle!”

  “I’m human all of a sudden, I don’t know my own strength. It’s going to be awhile before I know how to use my grip. I’m not taking that risk with you.”

  They cuddled for a long time, and despite what she said, she did enjoy his gentle touch. There was laughter as he undressed her, laughter as they processed the ridiculousness of a baby elephant trying to get into bed with them (Sam had to lock Teddy out), more laughter as they told each other what they had thought when they first laid eyes on each other, all those months ago. Sam’s new hazel eyes were enchanting to her, and when his eyes were full of laughter, he was more beautiful than she’d ever seen him before.