A long time ago, before the days of mankind, back when the mortal plane was just prehistoric monstrosities, there was an archangel. He was tall, handsome, caring, everything a woman could have wanted. He and his siblings were god’s first-born children, they soon created the angels that would serve them, and so on, and so forth. However, this archangel wasn’t like his brother or sister, he was a bit more controlled when it came to falling in love with his subordinates. While his siblings were bouncing from lover to lover, he stayed abstinent, until one day, something caught his eye.
She was the most beautiful face he’d ever seen, flowing golden hair with fair skin that shined in the gold lights of heaven. He courted her quickly, the girl of course falling for the far more powerful demon who wished to make her his wife. The two married, living a happy life together, and eventually, the angel became pregnant with their first child. The doctors said it would be a perfect child, no unholy imperfections to be seen. Gabriel was the most excited man in heaven, he bragged about his future kid to anyone who would listen, that even included his own father.
Eventually, after months had passed, the doctor saw them again. The archangel and his wife were very excited for their results, but the doctor had no good news. He showed them a picture of the scan he had done, an image that seemingly sickened the baby’s carrier, and made its father want to rip the poor man’s head off its socket. He screamed and shrieked as the doctor tried to explain what was going on, but neither of them would hear it. The archangel decided there and then that the baby wasn’t his, and that it would be cast to hell, never to be seen again.
If you ask the woman, the last time she saw her husband was the day she gave birth. He stood over her, watching intently as the midwives did their jobs. Once the baby was born, he grabbed it from the grasps of the nurses and clipped its wings, watching it fall from the clouds without a single shred of guilt. The mother weeped as the man left the room, not even bothering to say a word. She wondered what would become of her child, thoughts of all kinds ruminating as the midwives comforted her.
“I love you…” Was all she could muster, whispering it over and over again. Though, there was no one around to hear it. It was said that every day she weeped, but there was no use, after all…
Her child belonged to the demons now.
————————————————————————-
“Who am I?”
Naphal asked herself that question every single day as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, disgusted by her own face. Her long black hair was strewn about in every direction, the brush doing nothing more but causing more pain. She eventually gave up, taking a quick shower, and then walking into the main room of the vast palace she called home for breakfast. The living room was a big space, filled up by fancy vanities and decorations of all kinds. In the middle sat a large pentagram, a standard for homes in the city of Pandemonium, though the rest of her house was nowhere near standard.
She looked up at the high ceiling above to see her mother, Marchosias, perched from one of wires, staring out the window at the plebeians that existed outside of her home. She was a wolf-like creature, though her griffin’s wings flung proudly at her side at almost all times. She was confident in her oddity, a steep difference from her daughter, who could barely stand to look at herself for more than two seconds. The queen of wrath eventually looked over her shoulder, seeing the woman walk into the kitchen, taking her seat at the table.
“Ah, there you are.” Marchosias hissed, “I’ve been waiting here all morning.” She gracefully flew down from her perch, patting the woman on the head as she landed. “I had the chefs cook your favorite, my dear.”
“Mother, I’m not a child anymore.”
“I know, but you still live in my house, I’m obligated to care for you as if you still didn’t know how to walk.”
The Wrath Queen delivered a peck to the girl’s forehead, placing a plate of hell’s finest breakfast materials in front of her, “Now, you should eat up, we have an important meeting to attend today.”
“Another one?”
“Yes, dear, the meetings don’t just stop after a day or two. We’re making decisions for all of hell here. It’s not something that can just be wrapped up with a nice little bow.”
“I apologize that hell’s bureaucracy doesn’t excite me much.”
Marchosias laughed, “Look at you, using the big words.”
“What can I say? I’m getting smarter.”
“You are, now, there is something I need to tell you about today’s meeting.”
“What is it?”
The wrath queen hesitated for a moment, “You will be meeting with Lucifer and Leviathan after the meeting today. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Why?”
“I have no clue, dear. They just said they wanted to see you, though I bet it has something to do with an important job…”
Naphal gave a fake smile, “How lovely of them.”
“Isn’t it, dear? Your first real mission outside of removing lowly angels! I don’t even have the slightest clue what it is, but I’m sure it’ll be far more exciting than what you were doing before.”
The phone soon rang, echoing throughout the extensive home, “I should probably go answer that.” Marchosias mused, flying over to the telephone and leaving Naphal with her own thoughts again, voices ringing through her ears as she sat at the lonely kitchen table, staring at her plate.
Those thoughts turned to reminiscence, her mind wandering back to how she got to this place to begin with. She remembered a white room, then heat, then a face. The next thing she knew, she was in this same expansive palace, though it wasn’t as decorated as it is now. She could hear a shrill voice whisper a lullaby as that same voice barked into a phone, the assassin sighing as she began to eat her cooling meal.
“Ugh.” Her mother huffed, walking back into the kitchen, a rarity for the wrath queen. “I swear, that idiot Lucifer will be the death of us all.”
“What did she do?”
“It’s nothing important to you, dear. Just more political bullshit.” Marchosias sighed, “This is why monarchy is the worst idea ever come up with by civilized society. You give one person a bit of power, and all of a sudden, they’re a god. Who even let her be queen anyway? She couldn’t defeat any of us in battle if we had our hands tied behind our backs, hell, she probably couldn’t beat some lowly army scum!”
Naphal chuckled to herself at the concept of hell’s society being “civilized”, but managed to keep it under her breath so as to not upset her mother, who was still ranting about Lucifer and her hubris. The chimera finished her meal, Marchosias noticing with a grin.
“Well, now that you’re finished, I say we should start heading over to the the palace.”
“I’ll walk.”
The Wrath Queen was a bit taken aback, “Dear, I can fly you there far easier.”
“It’s okay, mother. I’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself then.” Marchosias sighed, flying to her perch before opening the large window and taking off towards Lucifer’s palace, leaving Naphal to walk with her thoughts. She grabbed her cloak as she stepped out the door, placing it over her clothes and throwing the hood over her head, obscuring her face in the dark light of hell. She sauntered out into the streets of the city, taking a bit before finally getting into the thick of the metropolis’ foot traffic, filled to the brim with demons of all shapes and sizes, some in suits, others wearing barely anything at all.
She walked up the grimy avenues until she saw a face she recognized, hounding some poor soul in a suit and tie, who was just trying to mind his own business.
“I can give you infinite pleasure~” she sang, trying her hardest to be heard over the bustling crowd, but the man only seemed to ignore her advances, making the succubus scoff. “Asshole… Hey!”
Naphal was caught a bit off-guard by the fast approaching demon, nearly pulling out her dagger as she came closer, eventually revealing herself to be a face she recognized.
“Naphy, there you are! I’ve missed you! Where’ve you been?”
“Oh, home, mostly.” She lied.
“Well, I’m glad to see you back out here again. I’ve missed having you out here, the business has been tough recently, you know?”
“Are mortal souls less horny than they used to be?”
“No, but their tastes have changed. It seems I’m old news.”
Naphal smiled, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”
“I wouldn’t either if it wasn’t for my boss breathing down my neck. She’s on me twenty-fours a day about how little souls I’ve been bringing in recently, and I don’t blame her, I’m mad at myself.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure you’ll find your groove again.”
The succubus grinned, “Oh, Naphy, you always know what to say to make a girl feel better.”
The assassin tried to continue on her walk, but the demon stopped her again, “Where are you going?”
“To the palace. I have an important meeting.”
“Can I come with you?”
Naphal was a bit confused, “No… Tiff, you’re my friend, but Lucifer and my mother would kill me if I brought a succubus into the halls of the infernal court..
“Who says I’m a succubus? That’s the best part about being a shape-shifter, I can be whatever I want to be.”
“Will it change your clothes?”
Tiff huffed, “You just don’t wanna talk to me.”
“That’s not it, I’m just busy, and I don’t have time. I’ll talk to you after I get done, okay Tiff?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Fine, but can you do me one little favor?”
Naphal groaned, “What?”
“Take that ugly hood off your head and show your face every once in a while. It’ll make the staring go away, I promise.”
The assassin didn’t respond, continuing her walk through the busy streets of hell’s capital city, taking in the sights and sounds of the people who wandered alongside her. The air around her reeked of smoke, burning her lungs as she began to see the towering palace in the horizon, streets seemingly becoming more claustrophobic as she got closer. Finally, she reached the palace square, a place filled to the brims with happy couples, vagabonds, and buskers, all standing under a gigantic fountain in the middle, a statue of Lucifer in all of her glory looking down at them with disgust, her wings eroding from their place on her back.
Naphal ignored every single one of them, opening the Victorian gate that blocked public entry to the palace, and entering into the structure’s double doors. She looked around at the sizable lobby, scenes of war and triumph aggrandized in murals along its spherical walls. She walked down a tight hallway, packed with secretaries rushing around with their cups of coffee and soldiers trying their best not to run them over, all of them avoiding the assassin like the plague. She maneuvered through the endless corridor until she reached an unsuspecting door at the end of the hall, opening it to reveal the secrets that laid behind it.
That sickening secret was a spiral staircase, leading the chimeric creature up to the infernal court’s vast meeting room, the smell of sulfur filling her nose as she got closer. She opened another door at the top of the stairway, looking inside the space where the most powerful demons in hell met, deciding the fate of their populations. One one side sat her mother, Marchosias, perched from a bar, beside her was the queen of lust, Asmodeus, who sat in her chair with her legs high in the air, thigh-highs shown for all to see. In the middle of it all was Lucifer, towering over her compatriots in her throne.
She ran a hand through her angelic black hair, a silver crown resting atop her head, and a glass of wine resting in her hand. She wore a flowing red dress that dragged on the floor she walked on, her long legs making up the parts that were uncovered. She looked down at Naphal with a toothy grin, even though she sat high above her. The assassin heard the queen ramble something to her mother in whisper form before she straightened herself back out in her throne. Bedside her was the gluttonous queen Beelzebub, and to her right, the envious queen Astaroth, who looked down at the demon with mild disgust.
Naphal walked over to her usual seat in the courtroom at the end of a seat of three chairs, the other occupants already seated in their places.
“Good morning, Naphal.” Spoke Azrael, the reaper, with her cold expression as always. “I see you’ve made it here in one piece.”
“I’m glad you’re happy to see me.”
“I was just surprised that you weren’t attached to Marchosias’ hip, normally you fly in with her.”
“I decided to walk through the city today. See the sights.”
A loud cackle echoed through the empty courtroom, “What sights? The cracked streets or the whores?” Abaddon’s razor teeth shone in the room’s light, her bellowing getting her a stern glare from Lucifer. She was The Queen’s bodyguard, a powerful demon with broad shoulders and a body that looked like it was made from stone, with long red hair stretching down her back like a lion’s mane.
“Abaddon, there’s no need to be a nuisance.”
“Shut it, Azzy. At least I actually go outside.”
“I had to go outside to get here, didn’t I?”
Naphal sighed, “Is bickering all you two do?”
Azrael and Abaddon were opposites, after all. One was svelte and practically ancient, the other was young and burly, and it wasn’t just the physical differences that separated them either.
“Her grimness likes to argue.” The muscular demon chided.
“At least I’m not some mindless boar.”
“You do realize I can squash your skull like a melon, right?”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Abaddon got up from her seat, “Alrighty then, come at me, you syphilitic whore! Hit me with your best shot!”
“Silence in the audience!” Lucifer reprimanded, causing the powerful demon to let out a razor sharp smirk.
“You got lucky this time, your grimness.”
Azrael shook her head as Abaddon sat herself back down, Naphal sitting on the outside looking in at the two quarreling demonesses. The reaper demon soon looked up at her assassin comrade, pulling the hood off of her head with a stoic stare.
“It’s not polite to hide your face in a courtroom.”
The queen at the center of the room cleared her throat for all to hear, gaining the attention of every soul who occupied the space alongside her.
“Good morning, my fellow rulers of hell and respected compatriots in this court. I know today’s session was called on very short notice, and for that, I apologize, but it’s about an urgent matter that needs to be dealt with immediately.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Belphegor?” Asked Beelzebub, who slouched on her throne.
“That lazy shrew wouldn’t wait for us, why should we wait for her?” Chided Astaroth, who sat beside her.
“There is no need for name-calling, Belphegor is simply late, as always. One of you can catch her up when she arrives.” Lucifer got back on track, “Anyway, I called today’s session to address a situation involving a potential coup d’etat.”
“How do you know it’s a serious threat?” Asked Marchosias, “There’s always some new report of an imbecile with a death wish thinking he can defeat us, just to end up with his head in a basket. How can we know that this is an actual problem and not just a nutcase who felt brave?”
“Reports from my high command have been sparse on the issue, but from what I’ve gathered, it seems that Mephistopheles is forming an army to overthrow me, and by extension, all of you.”
“Mephistopheles is in exile, there’s no way he can gather enough manpower to do something like that.” Asmodeus interrupted.
“He’s a powerful demon, and a powerful figure. Like it or not, there are some people that respect him, worship him like a god. He has a cult of personality that hangs on his every word, that heeds to his beck and call. He is a lot more dangerous than any of us realize.”
“If he’s so dangerous, then why wasn’t he executed?” The glutton chimed in.
“I felt merciful back then. I thought he’d be smart enough to not try again. It turns out, I was the fool.” Lucifer sighed, continuing her speech, “This matter will be dealt with quickly and efficiently, and I will personally make sure that he is no longer a threat to my power, or that of the infernal court. Are there any questions? Objections? Good. You are all dismissed for today. Thank you for your time.”
The queen waved her hand, the other rulers soon filing out of the silent room, all taken aback. The peanut gallery sat at their seats still, Abaddon still smirking confidently, Naphal staring into the abyssal nothingness of her own thoughts, and Azrael calmly watching the queens leave one by one.
“That was a remarkably short meeting.” The reaper demon commented, “I’m a bit surprised, normally Lucifer doesn’t stop talking.”
“Her majesty wants this situation done and over with.” Abaddon spoke up, “If I can let you two in on a little secret, Lucy didn’t even want to bring in the other rulers. She’d have rather just had him captured and hung, but she knew that they’d be mad if she did anything without at least calling a meeting first.”
“The other rulers are peckish snobs anyway. I’m surprised anything gets done around here.”
“They all want her majesty’s throne. That’s their end goal, and they don’t care how many people they have to slaughter to get it.”
Then, as they had their conversation, a man in a dark suit approached the trio sitting in the gallery. He was tall and burly, a blank expression in his eyes.
“Which one of you is Naphal?” He asked bluntly, the girl on the end looking up at him.
“That would be me.” She answered.
“Queen Lucifer wishes to see you in her quarters, it’s a matter of utmost importance, so I’d recommend hurrying your ass up before she takes it out on me.”
“Someone got called to the principal’s office…” Sang Abaddon smugly, a toothy grin etched between her lips.
“Good luck, Naphal.” Azrael said coldly, “You’ll need it.”
The man led Naphal down the short, barren hall and into the office of Lucifer Morningstar, queen of all demons, her silhouette seated at the massive golden throne that laid at the end of the hall, an unknown figure standing beside her, arms locked behind its back.
“It’s alright, dear. You can come closer.”
Naphal walked slowly towards the queen’s desk, throwing her hood back on her head as she stepped into the room’s dim light. The queen’s work surface was a mess, papers strewn about in all directions, Lucifer herself looking disheveled and exhausted, her usually pristine black hair lying unkempt on the table.
“Good morning, your highness.” Naphal bowed.
“Sit.”
The assassin did as she was told, taking her place on a comfortable chair across from the queen. Lucifer sighed, “I’m sure you heard what was said at today’s court meeting, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I’m sure you are well aware of why I wanted to see you.”
Naphal sighed, “You want me to kill Mephistopheles.”
“His army’s spirit will be broken if you succeed.” Spoke up High Commander Leviathan, her long white hair and dragon-like horns her defining feature, along with the black and red uniform she wore, “It is imperative that Mephistopheles is disposed of. With his leadership, the army he’s building poses a serious threat, even while being severely outnumbered by our own.”
“Like I said during the meeting, he holds a cult at his fingertips, willing to resort to guerilla tactics and terrorism to get their way. There’s already been attacks in the outskirts.”
“And how do you know it’s actually him?”
Leviathan answered the question, “All of the intelligence points to him. We have no reason to believe the attacks are internal.”
“No reason?”
“I understand your hesitance, but do understand that this has come from report after report by reputable sources inside his inner sanctum.”
“Spies?”
The commander remained stone faced, “To believe that we do not have eyes on an enemy of the state is naive at best, and incomprehensibly dangerous at worst.”
“What’s in all this for me?”
“You will be compensated handsomely for your work.” Said Lucifer, with a grin.
“How much?”
“More than you can possibly imagine.” She kept that charismatic grin, “Killing Mephistopheles will be a great honor for you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. If you succeed, I’ll make sure you become the foremost assassin in all of hell.”
Naphal stayed stoic, “And if I fail?”
“Then you’re most likely dead.” Leviathan answered, “Unless of course, you decide to desert the mission, which would be such a horrible blemish on your mother’s record.”
“My mother’s record?”
“Well, having your only child executed for treason wouldn’t look very good, now would it?”
“Are you threatening my mother, commander?”
There was a tense silence in the room, “No.” The commander soon answered, “I’m just detailing the possibilities of failure. There are infinite things me and my subordinates can think of.”
“You’re blackmailing me.”
“Think of it more as coercion, dear.” Lucifer said, almost jokingly.
“If you don’t do this job, we can arrest you for treason. I hope you realize that yourself, Naphal.”
“And you think threatening me will work? Do you think I’m some scared little girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing? I’ve killed more people than you think, high commander, I’ve been doing this for about as long as I’ve known how to walk. I know I’m good. Damn good. And with all due respect to you and your majesty, I don’t need to stand here and listen to you talk down to me like I’m a child.”
Leviathan scoffed at the outburst, but she looked down to see the queen with a grin between her lips, “I like this one.” She said, “She’s a bit more headstrong than the last one we tried to hire.”
“That’s not a good thing, your highness.”
“I think it is. I’m not the one who’s doing the assassinating here, and I’d rather have someone with a strong head on their shoulders than a quivering pansy who will drench their leggings at the first sign of trouble.”
“But-“
Lucifer stood from her throne, looking Naphal directly in the eye, “You listen to me, dear. If you do this for me, I will give you anything your heart could possibly desire. Money, power, you name it, it’s yours. All you have to do is kill Mephistopheles, and the power of the devil herself is at your fingertips. What do you say, Naphy? Doesn’t that sound appealing?”
“Your highness, this is insane.”
“Shut your trap, Leviathan. Would you rather it be your head on a pike rather than Mephistopheles’?”
The commander huffed, her face turning bright red as she crossed her arms. The queen kept staring at Naphal, “So, what will it be, my dear?”
Naphal thought about the offer diligently, staring at Lucifer’s outstretched hand as every single anxiety rushed through her mind like cars down a highway. Each second of staring felt like an eternity in and of itself, before she silently nodded her head, and shook the devil’s pale white hand. “Fine.” She whispered to herself and herself alone, barely audible, even to her own ears.
“Good, I’m glad we could make a deal.” Lucifer said with a smile, “Now, there is something I need to tell you.”
“What?”
“Tomorrow morning, I want you to visit Abaddon in the coliseum for a private training session. There will be no spectators, no eyes on you, just you and her. Mephistopheles is a powerful demon, capable of rivaling me, and my colleagues. It’s best if you train with somebody who can teach you how to protect yourself in case of a fight.”
“I know how to fight already.”
The queen hummed, “If you refuse, then our deal is off, and I’d have to imprison you, since you now know classified information.”
Naphal groaned, “Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Good girl. You’re dismissed now, run along and do whatever it is you do all day.”
The assassin stood from her chair and walked down the vast walkway that led up to the queen’s desk, grumbling to herself about everything and nothing at all as she exited out the unassuming front door, re-entering the barren hallways she had stepped through before, the bustle had since dissipated into barely a whisper. She wandered down the straight corridor, eventually leading her back to the emptied infernal courtroom, the smell of sulfur filling her lungs as she went through without even looking up.
She eventually made it to the final door between her and freedom, swinging it open to see the once packed palace square empty except for one person, sitting alone in the crimson light, a cigarette hanging from her mouth.
“Azrael?”
“Oh, Naphal.” The reaper demon said without a hint of emotion, “How did your meeting go?”
“It went well enough. What are you doing out here?”
“Nothing really. Just enjoying the quiet for a while. It’s odd, you would think this place would be busy in the afternoons.”
“Maybe the soldiers ran them off.”
Azrael shrugged, “Maybe. Who’s to know? Nobody tells me anything anyway.”
Naphal looked down at the cigarette on her lips, “I never took you for the smoking type.”
“I only do it occasionally, and that occasion is when I have to be in the same room as Lucifer.” She stood from her bench, throwing the paper tube on the ground and stomping it to ash with her foot. “I should probably get back to work. Death stops for no mortal.”
“Goodbye, Azrael.”
“I know you’ll succeed at whatever heinous scheme she’s making you do, you just have to keep your head on your shoulders. I don’t want you ending up like the last assassin we had. Poor thing.” She patted Naphal on the shoulder before walking off to the great unknown, leaving the assassin by herself in the palace square, the sounds of the fountain calming her thoughts as she sat on a bench alone.
It was the first time in ages her brain wasn’t speeding, her own mind seeming like paradise, even for just a moment.
She wished she could stay here forever.