The Fall

[Living_Hellfire]

((Continued from The Trial))

The story goes that you end up either on a Stairway or a Highway. Regardless of who you are, you end up on one or the other.

 

For Fergus McRae it was neither; It started with a kidnapping, proceeded through a trial and ended with The Fall.

 

As he tumbled through the inky blackness, over and over he realized no point of visual reference. His powers gone, his attempts to use his natural powers of flight to right himself in the tumbling dark gone. Grasping futilely at walls that weren't there he spun, over and over through the dark until slamming down onto the wet, stone floor of yet another cell. There's a snap as his left shoulder dislocates, his lower extremities pounding into the stone, sure to leave extensive bruising. For the first time in his life, even though he doesn't know it, Angziel is mortal. Or at least as close to mortal as a Nephilim may be.

 

Naked, bruised, cold and bleeding he gathers himself to his feet, leaning against the wall of the cell. It's a standard 6x6 cell, but nothing else. No toilet, no bed, no sink... just a cell with a barred door. A barred door that slams open revealing a beautiful woman with a forked tail. She is the very picture of sexual desire. She openly appraises the red-haired man in the cell. "Very nice, I might have to try a piece of you at some point." She says with a predatory grin. Despite himself Fergus feels an almost primal need for her and he hides his shame. Her tail whips as she jams a thumb in her belt. "Alright, come with me, the boss wants to see you."

The march forward is as educational as it is humiliating. The Succubus drags Fergus forward, the latter's hands bound in a wreath of flame that he somehow cannot control or influence, but it burns. Why does this fire burn? The pitiful creatures occupying neighbouring cells cower at their passing, some human and others not. All victimized and held against their will. Up through the various passages and corridors as they wind their way to their destination, the stench of fear and various effluence flooding Fergus' nose. Finally, they reach what appears to be a kind of grand entrance.
 

The marble work is beyond description, brilliant reds and luminescent blacks shining, reflecting the light of the Fires of Perdition burning brightly and shining through the windows. Figures hang in the air, frozen in time, their faces a rictus of agony and defeat, having been found guilty of various crimes and sins. As he passes through the space Fergus cannot but be as impressed as he is horrified at the torture inflicted upon these souls. He tries to concentrate on the sound of his bare footsteps on the marble floor as the Succubus drags him forward to a set of heavy, Celestine constructed doors, his attention finally caught by the sound of them as they grind open to reveal The Throne.

Upon The Throne is a man in a suit the colour of blood. He lounges almost thoughtlessly, a goblet in his hand. His presence is overwhelming, oppressive. The Demoness throws the naked man on the floor like a sac of potatoes. "My Liege," she begins "I bring to you the prisoner you have demanded." She bows her head. 

 

Lucifer Morningstar rises to his feet from the throne, casually discarding his goblet, the sound ringing out as it clashes with the marble flooring.

"Nephew! Welcome home, we have much to discuss!" The handsome man grins at the pathetic wretch before him.