The War in Heaven (3 page)

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Authors: Kenneth Zeigler

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Religious, #Christian

BOOK: The War in Heaven
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Rathspith let out a high-pitched squeal as his wings were cast aside, as the last tendons were stretched and severed. For a moment the wings flapped around as though they had acquired a life of their own, then they fell motionless.

“It will take many hours for your wings to grow back,” said Abaddon, pulling Rathspith to his feet. “That is, out here in the open. But in the Sea of Fire, they will never grow back. You will be like the humans, indistinguishable from them. Your own kind will not even recognize you. Prepare yourself for the execution of your sentence.”

“No, you can’t,” screamed Rathspith as his feet left the ground behind. “I’ve served the master faithfully for all of my existence. Ya can’t do this to me!”

“I assure you we can,” said Abaddon, with no trace of emotion. “But let not your heart be troubled, you shall continue to serve your master, only in a different capacity.”

The dark angels soared skyward, carrying the desecrated demon between them, screaming all of the way. They passed into a sphere of shimmering stars and vanished. The remaining small creatures followed them into the sphere, and a quiet the likes of which this place had not seen in a thousand years settled in. Yes, the remaining birds would eventually return to
feed upon the only source of sustenance they had ever known. What other choice did they have? But for a brief moment in eternity, the plains would know some measure of peace.

 
Chapter 2
 

“T
his is unacceptable!” shouted Satan, slamming his fist upon the arm of his ornate golden throne. He rose abruptly to his feet. He carefully scanned the demons who had gathered before him. They seemed nervous. That was good, he thrived on their fear of him; indeed, he depended upon it.

He took several steps forward on the red carpet that overlaid the black marble of the great circular platform upon which his throne sat. His entourage was gathered before him at the bottom of the three steps that ran entirely around the platform.

The vast cavernous room that was Satan’s audience chamber had a unique and infernal grandeur. Its lofty ceiling towered thirty feet over their heads. Its dark walls were relatively smooth and slick like melted glass, but they were hardly symmetrical. The walls and ceiling were an architect’s nightmare, twisting and undulating randomly. The walls were adorned with murals etched into the rock depicting the history of this realm’s demonic inhabitants—from their fall from Heaven, to their efforts in shaping this realm of pain and pandemonium, to the nature of the torments of Hell itself.

The frightening surreal atmosphere of this place was not for the benefit of Satan or his entourage, but for his human guests. This was their last stop on their road to eternal torment, the last time they would ever be without pain. Satan wanted it to be a memorable experience.

Under normal conditions, there might have been several hundred of Satan’s minions in this chamber, assuming a variety of forms intended to
frighten the humans summoned to this place. But today there were only six, and they appeared as Satan commanded—dark-cloaked angels with leathery bat-like wings.

Yet the Prince of Darkness assumed a very different form from those before him. His countenance was very unlike the common human concept of the devil. The only traditional aspect to his appearance was his small dark goatee. He was as tall as his subjects, yet his physical appearance was far more akin to that of a human male. He was darkly handsome and in all aspects well-proportioned. He was moderately muscular, and his flowing dark hair bore just the trace of gray around his temples. His eyes were brown, and his tan skin was flawlessly smooth and without wrinkles. He was draped in a blue velvet robe fringed with gold, and in his hand he held a golden scepter, upon the end of which was a finely cut, fist-sized gem, the very center glowing with a crimson light.

The chamber remained totally silent for nearly a minute as Satan stood before them, none so bold as to speak. “Unless I am greatly mistaken, and I never am, fifty-seven humans have vanished without a trace during the past year, and thirty-two the year before. Those are your figures, are they not?”

Only silence returned the master’s query. There were times when that sort of response would have been satisfactory to the Prince of Darkness. This was not one of those times.

“Now you report to me that one of our own is also missing,” he continued.

“Yes, my lord,” replied Endor, his voice slow and hesitating. “One Rathspith of the Erdellan Order has been missing for two days. He vanished from his post, guarding the altars of pain on the Plains of Hegath, along with one human, Thomas Carson. Strangest of all, nearly all of the scavenger birds that preyed upon the humans were destroyed at the same time. We found…”

“Enough,” roared Satan, “I read the report. Whoever did this went to a lot of trouble to take one human. Why this one? Why not take others as well? This was a carefully planned and executed operation. As with the other disappearances, no one saw anyone or anything enter or leave the area. But this time we also lost one of our own. Even if it is one the likes of Rathspith, it is one too many.” Satan paused as his anger ebbed somewhat. “Over the centuries, I’ve lost a few of these loathsome humans, but only a few. It hasn’t been like this since…” Satan stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to so much as mention the name of the Nazarene and the tens of millions of souls He had stolen from him in a single day.

“This could surely not have happened at a less opportune time,” noted General Krell, apparently sensing that this was a good moment to break the silence. “My people tell me that the preparations are nearly complete. Our time is at last at hand, my lord. Soon we shall be ready to break the chains that bind us to this place. Soon we shall take our rightful place.” There was a few seconds of hesitation. “What I mean to say is that you shall take your rightful place, my lord.”

Surely, flattery was the way to Satan’s heart, or at least it usually was, but not today. “That might very well be, general, but how can we proceed with these things happening here within my realm?”

“But, my lord, what are a few missing souls compared to the billions we still hold?” asked Governor Molock, taking a step toward the monarch. “I don’t see how this changes our timetable in the least. We should move ahead.”

The general looked toward Molock incredulously, then back toward his master. “I still advise caution, my lord. Something is very wrong here. A new player has entered the fray. We would be ill-advised to spread our forces so thin at this time.”

“A new player,” scoffed Molock, “It is the dark angels who are at work here, Azazel and his followers, nothing more. They have been in hiding for
centuries, and are only now striking out when the opportunity presents itself. They are but a few hundred; they can be dealt with when this operation is finished.”

“The dark angels,” replied Krell, “are no longer being led by Azazel. My sources tell me that they have a new leader, though I know not who. But when I speak of a new player, I speak not of them. Did you not see how the birds of Hegath were killed? The dark angels would not have butchered the scavengers in this manner. Then there was the talk of a dark cloud.”

“A dark cloud?” asked Satan, turning his full attention to the general. “I’ve heard no talk of a dark cloud.”

“Rumors, nothing more,” said Molock.

“Not rumors,” objected Krell. “One of my own warriors saw it from a distance, not far from the Plains of Hegath on the day Rathspith vanished, a cloud traveling against the wind. Since then, I have heard of three collaborating accounts describing this very same thing.”

“A cloud that rips the heads off birds and releases humans from their torments?” scoffed Molock. “This is pure fantasy.”

The other four demon lords within the chamber seemed unwilling to comment on these matters. Perhaps they perceived the foul mood that the master was in.

Satan stood in silence, considering his course of action. He had waited so long for this moment. He had dreamed of vengeance, of an invasion of Heaven, for millennia. Now that reality was almost within his grasp. His many minions’ increasingly vigorous spiritual attacks on humanity had drawn ever more angels to Earth, away from Heaven. They were spread thin, very thin, and they would be totally unprepared for this eventuality. He had slowly but surely amassed the power needed to bridge the gulf that existed between Hell and Heaven. Now, at last, he could open the gate wide enough and long enough to allow his armies to stream into paradise.

Based upon his most recent conversations with the Father, Satan had become convinced that He would not interfere. After all, this would not be a personal attack upon Him; no, it was a test of the loyalty of his angels. As in the case of Job of old, Satan was certain that he had nearly convinced the Father to allow him to put His servant to the test. But this time, it would not be just one, it would be all of the angelic hosts.

It was a bold move, and it would place his very kingdom in the balance. He would be taking nearly all of his legions through the breach. But how sure was he of victory? Here in Hell, his dominion was nearly assured, or at least he thought it was. He had turned his eternal prison into a kingdom all his own. He had thwarted the design of the Father. But he could have so very much more. Still, if things went badly, his kingdom might never rise again. He could not be certain that he could open the gate long enough and wide enough to allow his forces to retreat to Hell. They would be trapped with their backs to the vast sea of space and time. Was it really worth the risk? He had asked himself that question a thousand times, and his answer was always the same.

“The Ancient of Days shall soon call me into his presence again,” announced Satan, looking at his six minions. “When it will be, I can not say, but it will be soon. At that time, I shall issue my challenge. When He agrees to my proposal, and He surely will, we must be prepared to mobilize our legions at once. There will be no margin for error. General Krell, are you prepared?”

Krell hesitated. “We are prepared, my lord. Though I advise caution, yours is the word of law. I shall do as you command.”

A smile came to Satan’s face for the first time during the meeting. “Then it is settled. You all have your tasks, now, go. I have more pleasant tasks to attend to—the sentencing of souls.”

The six wasted no time. They all bowed low before their master and prepared to depart from the audience chamber.

“Wormwood,” proclaimed Satan, “I would see you in private for a moment. We have business to discuss.”

Wormwood turned around as the others departed from the chamber. In an uncharacteristic move, Satan stepped down from his place of honor and walked across the chamber toward the demon. Wormwood seemed nervous.

Satan smiled as he approached his minion. “What is the status of our special project?”

Wormwood smiled, though only slightly. “All is in readiness, my lord. Nearly two centuries of our best efforts have paid off. The final alterations in course have been made. The figures have been checked and rechecked, there are and will be no mistakes. Even as you ascend the throne to sit in the presence of the Ancient of Days, humanity will come face to face with its own annihilation. They will be powerless to prevent it.”

“Very well done,” noted Satan, placing a hand on the shoulder of his lieutenant. “I realize that this was a long and difficult task, but now we will reap its benefits. I assure you, you and those who labored with you shall be rewarded.”

The demon bowed low. “I exist but to serve you, my master.”

“And you have,” confirmed Satan. I have longed for this moment since the day of the creation of that loathsome creature, man. Now my revenge shall be complete.”

 

It was in an antechamber that Lord Molock encountered one of his subordinates, a lieutenant only recently promoted to the third rank. They delayed until all of the others had departed.

“My Lord Molock,” began the lieutenant, his voice soft and hesitating. “I’ve been going over the figures that you presented to the master, the ones regarding the number of missing humans.”

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