At Play in the Fields of the Divine
A canticle of angels sang and fucked as I watched from my perch atop the giant skull of some creature a long time extinct. I smiled as their wings fluttered and they used the feathers to tickle the asses, balls and pussies of their brethren. It was not unusual to see such a gathering of holies near the Abyss. Whenever the living gathered and celebrated in song it was an aphrodisiac to angels -- by their beatific nature they responded with their own songs sprinkled amidst their throes of ecstasy. Only an orgy of a hundred angels could come simultaneously; the combined joy would echo in the world of the living as a break in the clouds and pillars of sunlight and rainbows would inexplicably decorate the sky. If the moon had risen, the living would witness a display of Northern lights.
Such are the things I am privy to witness. But the distraction was short lived as Moonwyn nudged me. She was snorting fire -- a sure sign that a breach had formed in the Abyss and something had leaked through. With and easy flip I landed on the saddle I fashioned from my own bones. I tugged Moonwyn's reins and launched her at the angels still drunk with their own come. A pretty one saw me and yelped as she witnessed Moonwyn's skin liquify and appear to puddle at her shoulders and then reform as large bat-like wings. I laughed as I pulled her head upwards and Moonwyn flapped her giant wings -- spaying the angels with moist droplets of blood as skinless muscles bulged and surged. We circled them for a few moments, giving me time to wink at the one who'd first noticed us. She gave me a look that was a mix of lust and hate and then the others huddled, covering themselves with their fine white wings. I exhaled smoke from the cracking scars that riddled my body and Moonwyn lunged forward with a thunderous beating of her wings.
Once upon a time there was a man named Gabriel and he thought himself a righteous warrior of God. But a faithful night, in the forest of Syrok, he was initiated and recruited by Hell after having been singled out by Heaven. That name was nothing but a memory now as I crossed lakes of boiling blood and forests of moaning trees. I had crossed the Abyss after my fly by of the angels and had entered into the realm of Hell.
As Moonwyn flew towards the Eastern horizon we soon came upon our quarry: a random thought of hope had entered and was illuminating the local flora and fauna of demons who scurried back to dens of despair. I saw one who looked upon the hope and try to touch it. The demon's body suddenly blistered and it howled with fury as flowers grew where it had touched hope. It actually started to dance! At once I nicked my finger with my knife and shook my hand, watching as my blood flowed from the cut and congeal to form an arrow before the cut sealed itself. I steadied Moonwyn, unhooked my bow from the back of the saddle and nocked the arrow. Hope could not be allowed to flourish. The bow tightened with an audible moan of ecstasy and I let loose the arrow. The demon saw it flying but did nothing when it pierced its eye. My blood was liquid again and it sprayed the demon as its own ichor flowed forth. The two liquids erupted in blue flame and the demon was consumed before it could spread a song of hope. Scavengers feasted on the crispy remains.
We set upon our pursuit of the thought and found it circling a grove of petrified victims -- damned souls for whom Hell was a frozen moment in time when they were at their lowest. They had defined their existence with a single act that brought pain to themselves and others. Hope is always drawn to the hopeless. I saw it near a man who was mangling a child out of revenge against his wife till he realised the child had been his in the end. Hope gathered, ready to bathe the victim -- it had the aspect of clean water till I drove my sword in to it. It was said the blade was forged in the centre of the Earth before the age of Man and tempered in a puddle of God's tears. All I knew was that the night was ripped with a piercing scream as hope broke apart and crumpled to dust as it does so often. My blade hummed for a moment in satisfaction before I slid it back in to the sheathe across my back.
Moonwyn shivered for a moment and I patted her powerful neck. With a tap of my heels she settled back on the ground and her wings melted and reformed as her skin. She was tired of the flight so I trotted us back to our lair. We followed a branch of the Styx that led to the Abyss and our home. I pulled her reins and halted our progression as I noticed something in the water. I dismounted her and walked to the edge.
Peering at the liquid I saw my reflection. But it was a warped reflection for I saw the man I once was and the life I could have lived. I'd forgotten the Styx would torture onlookers with their deepest desires. I saw Gabriel in a woman's embrace and she kissed him while he fucked her with abandon. That much was still true. I laughed as I saw the image of the woman giving birth to what would have been Gabriel's daughter. Annoyed with these phantasms, I reached under my cape and unsheathed my dagger. It was a long silver and ebony blade with a hilt composed of intertwining snakes and crowned with four cobras. I ran the edge of the blade across my left wrist and let a few rivulets of blood fall into the water. The wound sealed within seconds while the blood pooled under the surface of the river and took my aspect and proceeded to slaughter Gabriel and his wife and child. I was the hunter and guardian of the Abyss now and I would not have it any other way. Their spilt blood pooled with mine and was finally carried away by the current.
I mounted Moonwyn for she was now rested and ready for a gallop. I pointed her toward the Abyss and jabbed my heels in her sides. She snorted happily and bolted with all the power and speed she could muster. As her hooves drove in to the ground of Hell, moans and grunts escaped the indentations she left -- if we had stopped to peer in them we might see an eye, a mouth, or perhaps even a whole face appear for a brief moment from the disturbance. Hell was built upon the souls of the damned. A death hawk was pacing us from on high, playing at diving at us and then pulling up at the last moment, unleashing its terrible squawk. Each time it made that sound, a living child was having a nightmare. The hawk finally perched itself in a tree of woe not far from the cave entrance that marked my abode. Woes only grew in overlapping patches of space and time shared with the Earth realm. Tears and blood were its main fertiliser, so their must have been a battle in this place some when in the past or the future. Time meant very little here. I dismounted Moonwyn and removed the saddle. She looked at me and I nodded. She bucked a few times and hurried south to go and run with a herd of poltergeist that often roamed near the Abyss. It was then I noticed a golden hue emanating from my cave.
I drew my sword and entered the cave. The glow was intense and warm as I neared it, but since this was my home I took a deep breath and blew lightly like I would for a candle. There was a surprised gasp erupting from deeper inside as the glow subsided and mine were the only eyes allowed to see. I heard a ruffling of wings -- an angel was in my home.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from a Holy?" I asked as I sheathed the sword. Six wings batted back and forth in search of my voice and the angel faced me. A seraphim. She was a bit shorter than I was and though her neck and limbs appeared delicate, I knew a seraphim was a powerful adversary, even on this side the Abyss. Her blond hair was neatly tucked under a helmet and she wore the mandatory golden breast plate and boots and brassards. She carried two knives and had a bow and quiver hanging from her side. Her beautiful blue eyes peered in the darkness as she struggled to summon her glow. Angels were so proud of that trick.
"I know you," I whispered, making sure that the sound vibrated from the walls themselves. I snapped my fingers and globes of light ignited from the ceiling. I could see in the darkness of my own creation but I saw no reason to hide from her anymore.
"Yes," she said with a melodic voice, more used to singing than simple speech. "We saw each other earlier before you hunted that poor hope."
