Chapter 98: The End Times, Part 1

"What the hell!" Sam's voice trembled.

"This is all your fault, Sammy," said Satan, his voice echoing inside Sam, scraping against his skull. "You forced me to come up with a Plan B, and this is the result."

Sam clicked his tongue at that. "I still don’t understand how the hell you thought I’d just hand over my body like that."

"You want to know? Fine, since we’ve reached a climax, I’ll tell you, Sammy. The simplest answer is usually the right one. It’s a seemingly stupid hole in my plan, isn’t it? I hope you don’t think I’m stupid."

"You’re many things, but not stupid, so get to the point."

"I’ve already said most of it. It doesn’t make sense because it wasn’t supposed to be your choice. After the massacre of the Wright family, your soul should have been shattered, and the vessel emptied, so I could take it as I pleased. Your will, your ability to exercise it, was never part of my plans."

I see, Sam thought. Now it all made sense.

Satan had been playing him from the beginning, and the only thing that had prevented disaster, his complete destruction, was that the one who had massacred the Wrights wasn’t the real Samuel, but a man from another world. A variable that not even Lucifer, the Morning Star, could have accounted for.

Someone capable of making plans involving other universes and anticipating such moves could only be God, right? Sam didn’t like what that implied about his arrival in this world and his future prospects, but at least now he had an explanation, good or bad. He was willing to bet it was true, precisely because it disgusted him.

"I see," Sam said finally. "So every death would make me stronger. You expected my human half to be too weak, that the accumulated power would shatter me. I guess I’m more like you, Father."

Sam laughed.

"Laugh all you want, but don’t look away from the truth, from the future that awaits this world. Look at that thing in the sky. Do you think you can stop it? Really? You barely handled War, Pestilence, and Famine. They screwed you, literally and figuratively, and got away with it, without suffering real damage. What makes you think you can kill that? A being so large it would crush the mansion like a toy."

"I get what you’re hinting at," said Sam.

"Then let’s stop wasting time. Say yes, let me in. Just you and me, Sammy. Only you and I can stop that thing."

"You prefer Plan A, huh? Very flattering."

"That’s how it is, Sammy. It was decided this would happen before the world was created. You are my predestined body, my perfect vessel. Out of necessity, everything else is just a distraction. If I could use someone else, I would, believe me, with all the headaches you’ve given me."

"I’m tired of hearing crap about destiny."

"Is that why you haven’t hidden among the ruins yet? There are easier ways to kill yourself than waiting for that thing to notice you. And even if you do, I’ll just bring you back again and again, as many times as needed."

Thanks for confirming my suspicions, Sam thought. That you could do that.

He didn’t like taking advice from the son of a bitch, but Sam hid among the ruins, piling some rubble on top of himself for cover. As if he were burying himself alive. He remembered the darkness and the pressure down there, where he had emerged not long ago.

Sam bit his lip.

"My sisters... are they alive?"

Lucifer didn’t answer.

"Asshole, you only talk when it suits you. Just like your useless brother. So many promises, and still no sign of the damn useless son of a bitch."

"Go on, go on. I’m not the biggest fan of Michael either. Betrayal comes naturally to him."

His laughter echoed in Sam’s skull. Sam clenched his teeth.

"My sisters. Are they alive or not?"

"Go out and find out. What’s wrong, are you scared? Don’t tell me you actually care about them, Sammy? And here I thought you only saw them as sex toys."

Sam ignored his taunts. He had already given him too much attention. Although he wasn’t sure if the Abomination had left (or where the damn thing could even go, for that matter), Sam crawled out from under the rubble. Carefully. And fearfully. He didn’t like admitting it, but he was afraid of that thing. This wasn’t even the first time he had faced a being he knew was far more powerful than him. He had massacred the Wrights from the shadows, fearing being discovered and easily killed. In other words, he had spent most of his time in this world hiding like a rat. But he had gained a powerful confidence quickly. Being discovered and forced to kill the rest head-on had changed everything.

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He had tasted true power, not just the power to manipulate people, pushing them toward the desired outcome.

The power to step into the light and simply do as he pleased. To crush anyone who stood in his way like a cockroach.

He looked up. That thing was no longer in the sky, hovering over the ruins. He sighed in relief.

Considering it had defended itself even before being born, there was the question of how much that abomination knew about the world. Enough to know about the capital, that it was the place to strike to cause the most damage?

If not, where could it be? Where could it have gone? Well, it was hard to lose sight of that thing. The hard part wasn’t going to be finding it, so he could set those questions aside.

He had bigger concerns, like his sisters. Surely they were alive, right? Lucifer had avoided giving him a direct answer. He had told Sam to find out for himself. And why do that? When he could hurt him more with the truth. So they were probably alive. He probably just wanted to worry him.

Sam walked through the field of rubble and corpses, over the sea of blood, searching for them. It was hard to stay optimistic, given the damn scene. Nothing but death everywhere. Even the queen’s soldiers, who had stayed outside the main area, seemed to have been caught, so to speak, by the shockwave of the abomination’s birth.

What had happened to Famine, by the way? Was she under the rubble? Could she be dead? She had given birth to such a creature. After all, that should have been impossible. At the very least, it should have split her in half.

His head hurt and was still spinning. Useless questions. Step by step. Everything step by step.

Not all the soldiers were dead. He noticed. Some were groaning, agonizing. Sam paid them no attention. He didn’t help them, though he didn’t finish them off either. In his eyes, they were already dead. They had lost all usefulness.

He found the queen buried under a huge wooden cross. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to get out from under it, but of course, she was unconscious. She had a wound on her forehead. Head wounds always bled a lot. It always looked bad, but she was alive. Good. At least that pawn on the board would remain. She was useful.

Sam crouched beside her and woke her by shaking her, slapping her. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

"Samuel," said Anabela, as if she couldn’t quite believe it. "Good. What happened?"

I wish I knew, Sam thought.

"Never mind. Get up. And don’t look around too much," he said as he pushed the cross aside.

The cross had helped her more than hurt her. If it hadn’t fallen on her, a mountain of rubble would have crushed her. Rubble that slid down once he moved the cross, and he pulled her out immediately, in the same motion, to avoid disaster.

He had told her not to look around. So, of course, that was the first thing she did.

"God," murmured Anabela, doubling over and covering her mouth, resisting the urge to vomit.

In the end, she managed to suppress the nausea, at least for now.

"And Famine," she said, gathering all her willpower. "What happened? Did you succeed? I don’t remember much of what happened. There’s like a gap."

"No," Sam replied simply. "That thing was born."

And fucking Michael didn’t show up, he thought.

"Then we’re done."

"Nothing’s done. Nothing!"

Anabela flinched, as if he had threatened to slap her. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he had given that impression. He didn’t know.

"You’re right. We must keep hope until the end."

That wasn’t exactly what he had meant, but it would do.

"Help me find my sisters."

Without another word, they split up.

Sam’s mind was blank. He didn’t want to think. He couldn’t think.

The completely red sky, despite the moon shining, seemed to reflect over the field and the remains of the convent, making it feel like the ground was covered in blood. A sea of blood and endless debris. Even for a heartless being, it was enough to make you want to vomit.

The blood. You could close your eyes, but you couldn’t escape the smell. Blood had a foul odor. That was bad enough. But of course, it wasn’t just blood out there. Piss, shit, all kinds of filth.

How had things come to this? He was supposed to have been reborn as a rich kid, or a privileged son of a bitch with an easy life. He could barely remember how simple things had seemed at the beginning.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long to find them. Well, Anabela was the one who did.

"Sam, over here!" she shouted.

As soon as he heard her voice, he knew what had happened. But as he approached, his heart in his throat, he at least hoped it wasn’t her. Of course, he was wrong. Anabela must have helped Violet get up and out from under the rubble, but it seemed she wouldn’t last long. His older sister doubled over and vomited immediately.

"Oh no. Oh God. Oh God, no."

But yes. Yes. Christina was dead. There was no doubt. He wasn’t a damn doctor, but he didn’t need to be to know. A single glance, a tenth of a second seeing how her chest had been crushed, was enough. She was dead. Dead.

Sam fell to his knees. His favorite had to be dead. Of course. His little sister. His most obedient toy. The most real one.

Sam clenched his teeth. He bit his tongue hard until he tasted blood filling his mouth. He felt like he was going insane. He supposed he was already insane. So now he was surpassing it.

In that valley of death, stained red, kneeling on the stones, Sam…

"Fine. Deal."

He spoke the words of his damnation without thinking twice.

"What are you talking about?" asked Violet, trembling, a hand over her mouth.

"Say it clearly, Sam. It has to be crystal clear."

Sam doubted it. Castiel had made a deal with Detective Adams after Sam mortally wounded him and threw him out a window. He highly doubted Castiel had had the time or energy to give a damn speech. But he wouldn’t argue.

"I’m saying deal. I’m giving you the yes, asshole. You can enter my body, but bring her back. And leave my sister alone. My sisters."

"Deal, then. Believe it or not, Sam, I’m a man of my word."

"No, no, no. What are you doing? I can’t lose you too."

Violet lunged at him, but when her hand touched his face, he was no longer in the driver’s seat. He felt it instantly.

——

Lucifer smiled.