Caught in the Fire

Chapter XI: When All Hope is Lost

After a long battle on the beach at the break of dawn against the Sword of God, Lucifer was down on the ground, pinned down under his brother's heel, defeated, awaiting his banishment from Earth for eternity. He had tried everything to keep his promise to Chloe to fight for tomorrow, but in the end, he had been no match for Michael's control over the elements and his own reluctance to hurt his twin.

Then he saw that glint of a demon blade coming for his brother's exposed back, and all the pain and anguish from Uriel's death came at him all at once. He summoned his remaining strength and the air around them erupted in flames, startling his saintly brother, and freeing himself. He managed to power through the pain and shove his brother out of the way just in time for Mazikeen to break through the wall of fire and stab him in the chest.

He could see in her eyes the realization that she had stabbed the wrong twin, but it was too late. He fell, bleeding from the wound in his chest, surrounded by feathers, just like Cain. Mazikeen was crying over him, apologizing profusely, telling him that she was only trying to save his life on Earth. Michael joined her soon after, shocked at his sacrifice, forgiving him, and pledging his sword to protect Chloe and Trixie. Then he held the photograph of Chloe and Trixie in his hands and slowly faded away while looking at Earth's beautiful blue sky, lost in both memories and fantasies until the end.

Then the sky turned dark, and the bright sand and blue ocean were replaced by jagged floors and pillars of stone. "Bloody ash," he muttered, brushing off the ash that continuously rained down from the sky. He looked down at himself and groaned when he saw what he was wearing, or rather the state his clothes were in. His shirt was bloody, his clothes were battle-torn and scorched, his shoes were scuffed, and he had no idea where his pocket square went. Truth be told, he looked like a homeless magician. He hated looking like this and wished he could wash up and get a change of clothes, even in Hell.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Hell's gates behind him, then he looked around at the desolation of Hell that he had abdicated from over seven years ago. At least he'd accomplished what he set out to do: Michael was safe, and he knew his saintly brother would guard Chloe and Trixie like his life depended on it.

"I'll never see them again," he whispered, struggling to control his emotions. He wished he had been able to bring their picture with him, wanting something to remember them by. "There won't be another tomorrow for me."

He told himself that he couldn't fall into despair, no matter how overwhelmed he was feeling at that moment. No matter what, he had to survive. This was Hell, and every inch of it was designed to punish damned souls. He tried to unfurl his wings, ready to fly back to the throne and reluctantly resume his lordship over Hell, but no wings would come. That's when the horrible realization hit him: he had left his wings behind on his body, which also meant that he was powerless. He was just another doomed soul among billions.

"Why, Dad?" he wondered out loud angrily, looking up at the dark, Hellish sky. "You're just going to leave me here, powerless and pathetic?" He felt angry, frustrated, and pained at how little he meant to his Father. "I hate You! I loathe You!"

As he cursed his Father's name for destroying his life, he unconsciously walked toward one of the doors. He didn't even realize that he was grabbing the door handle until it was almost too late. He pulled back as if the handle burned him, gasping, realizing that his guilt was calling him to his very own Hell Loop. What could he possibly be feeling guilty about? Cain? Impossible, he never regretted killing that bloated oaf. Uriel? No, he overcame that guilt the last time he was in Hell to look for the Detective's formula to her antidote. Otherwise, he never would've been able to leave.

He heard noises coming from behind the door, and he stared at in confusion for a moment. Was somebody already in there? Each cell in Hell was designed for a single damned soul and if it was already occupied, it shouldn't have been trying to pull him in. He pressed his ear to the door to listen better. He could hear the screams of a few unfortunate souls behind it. Why was his guilt calling him to a cell that was already occupied? And by multiple people, at that?