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Part I: Rise Of The She-Demon
1618 B.C.E.
"My Lord, are you sure we should be here?"
Cozbi trembled nervously as her new husband, Zimri, led her through the camp to his personal tent. She felt the eyes of the High Priests, along with others of the gathered tribe, move over her body as Zimri led her past. Their scowls were not at all approving.
"Of course, my darling," Zimri assured her. "You are my wife now, I can bring you anywhere I please."
"But, your people did not approve," Cozbi reminded him. "We were married in the eyes of my people, under our Gods, yes. But your High Priests refused us that same right."
"It matters not," Zimri dismissed her. "We have sworn oaths, and I have paid the purchase price to your father. You belong to me now."
Pulling her inside his tent, he closed the flap behind him.
"Remove your clothes." His instruction was firm, insistent.
Cozbi did as she was told, quickly shedding her long, flowing bridal robes. In moments, she stood revealed before her new husband, her olive skin aglow with sweat from the desert heat.
Zimri disrobed as well. Cozbi gasped at the sight of his manhood. It wasn't her first encounter with a circumcised male. Unlike the Hebrew God that Zimri worshiped, her Gods had no restrictions on sex, purity or chastity.
So she was quite familiar with the male sex organ. Up until this moment though, she'd never seen one quite so... unimpressive.
Still, she understood her wifely duty, and dropped to her knees before him, eager to perform it.
Zimri, however, had not the patience. Pushing her to the carpeted floor of the tent, he moved above her, pinning her down with his superior strength.
His engorged member prodded eagerly at the entrance to her own tent, and without preamble or warning of any kind, Zimri forced himself inside her.
Cozbi found herself grateful he was not nearly as well endowed as the men she'd been with before, since Zimri had given her no time to build her desire enough to ease his passage.
Still, as he thrust away eagerly, she felt her pleasure grow, soon finding a rhythm with him, her hips swaying as he pumped.
A rhythm that ended all too quickly when she felt his seed erupt within her.
Zimri collapsed over her, panting and sweating profusely. "Ah, my darling Cozbi, you truly are an exotic delight! I am looking forward to..."
His words were cut off by the sounds of an angry mob gathered outside their tent. Zimri turned his head just in time to see the frenzied, wild eyed priest burst in, a long, sharp spear in hand.
Trapped beneath her husband, Cozbi could only watch in horror as the invader lifted the spear high, his eyes glazed over with madness and rage.
Zimri cried out in fear, then agony.
Cozbi screamed as well. A sharp burst of pain exploded in her abdomen.
Then her world went black.
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Somewhere Outside Time And Space
"Wake up. Wake up, my child."
Cozbi lifted her head slowly. Her eyes fluttered open.
The room was bigger than anything she'd ever seen before, far grander than even her father's royal court, or the many temples her people had erected in honor of the Gods.
The granite floor was hard, smooth, cool to the touch. The stone walls of the long, rectangular hall seemed to reach to the heavens, as did the parallel rows of columns that ran the length of the cavernous space.
At the far end was a staircase, flanked by two massive stone pillars, gargoyle carvings perched atop each, along with a pair of brightly burning torches.
The staircase led to a dais on which sat a throne, wreathed in flames. A large, multicolored orb of glass, or perhaps some type of highly polished stone, topped the backrest, shimmering with an unearthly glow.
Upon the throne sat a figure, obscured in mist and shadow.
"Stand, child," the figure commanded.
Cozbi scrambled to her feet, naked, afraid, clutching absently at her belly.
"Do not be frightened, child." The voice was softer now, soothing. "Come closer."
Cozbi tentatively approached the foot of the stairs, eyes cast downwards, uneager to meet the gaze of the mysterious figure.
"Stop. Right there. Now, stand straight, child. Let me look at you."
Finding her strength, Cozbi lifted her head, her arms dropping to her sides, no longer attempting to cover herself.
Puffing out her chest, she stood proud and unashamed before him. Although his face was still obscured in shadow, she met his fiery eyes with her own defiant glare.
"I am no CHILD! I am Princess Cozbi, daughter of Zur, ruler of Midian, and wife of Zimri, son of Salu of the tribe of Simeon of the Israelites!"
"Good," his deep voice chuckled. "Oh very, very good. You have spirit, I like that. Oh yes, you'll do nicely."
"What do you mean?" Cozbi spat. "Where is my husband? I demand you bring me to him! I..."
Booming laughter cut her off. "Oh, my dear Cozbi! You are in no position to demand anything! Do you even know where you are? Stop and think for a moment. What is the last thing you remember?"
Cozbi thought deeply, struggling to recall. The memory came back in a flash; the angry cry of the priest, the blur of the spear, the wail of agony. She again clenched at the phantom pain in her abdomen.
"I... am I...?"
"Dead? Yes. I'm so sorry."
"And this is...?"
"The Underworld, yes."
"Are you Ba'al?"
Again the good-natured laugh. "No. But he is an associate of mine."
The figure stood and, with graceful ease, descended the stairs.
The mist parted as he approached, revealing himself clearly; tall, lean, his body adorned in elegant, kingly robes of red and purple, edged with gold trim along the sleeves and hem.