Satan's Hunger

1

'Goddamn you, Kaitlyn!'

Lucifer raked his fingers through his hair as he paced his room. She won't do it. There's no way. She isn't brave enough. She isn't tough enough. What is it the humans say? She's all bark and no bite? Besides, it isn't meant to be. The prophecy! The prophecy foretells that she will be by my side. She's going to fail. She's going to fail. She must!

'You must!'

He stopped in the middle of his room, wrapping his arms around his chest as he gazed through the window into his fiery dominion. Fires lashed as tall as mountains. Volcanos grumbled and shook. The screaming of the Damned was as piercing as ever. But Lucifer hardly noticed any of it as he spread out his senses in search of his vessel. In search of the one and only chance he had to conquer Earth and take back all that was rightfully his.

Taking a long deep breath, Lucifer closed his eyes. If he had a heart it would be pounding. Where was she? Had she already done the deed? He snapped open his eyes. No. At least, not yet. He couldn't sense her soul, which meant it hadn't yet left the mortal realm. He released the breath he was holding. It was strange to think now that he should be so relieved not to know where she was after all his desperate searching. It meant she was still somewhere safe on Earth.

Alive.

He started to pace his room again. He was shaking. He couldn't get the look on her face out of his mind. She'd been so resolved. She'd been so firm and sure. Her dark eyes had been bright. Her jaw had been set. She had never spoken to him so steadily. No fear. No uncertainty. She hadn't looked like the Kaitlyn he knew: meek and mild.

She wouldn't do it. She couldn't.

All bark and no bite.

'She won't do it,' he reassured himself.

Stopping in the middle of the floor, he tilted his head back, gazing upwards and outwards as he raised his arms. It was a pointless attempt, he knew, but he would command his forces nonetheless.

Search harder. Find her! Do not fail me. Her life hangs in the balance. Find her! Find her! FIND HER!

Up his arms and through his fingertips, Lucifer poured out his desperation, his fears, his rage, compelling them to obey, forcing them to push themselves to breaking point.

He felt their agitation. He felt their wings beating hard through the air, their claws scraping through the earth, slithering and creeping and crawling; they stalked the shadows.

Thousands of them, demons and angels alike.

He went back to his window, stared out at his dominion, then went back to pacing again. Over and over he did the same thing: holding himself, pacing, looking through the window. Watching, waiting, hoping.

Praying.

He stopped with a start at the sudden tug in his chest. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was enough to make him feel a wave of fear. A second, harder tug made him lurch back to the window.

'NO!' Gripping hard onto the window ledge, he glared into the fiery distance. He could feel her. He could feel her!

He looked up into the swirling dark sky, beyond which lay the living dimensions, along with purgatory and heaven beyond. He felt the tug again, this time much more pronounced. It was so sharp it was almost a pain. He'd felt Kaitlyn before, of course, whenever she'd left hallowed ground. But it had never been like this. It should be a pull that steered him in a particular direction, like the dial of a compass: north, south, east, west. Never had it been painful. Never had he felt so confused and lost, spinning in a circle as he felt her, as though she was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

With a shout, he shoved himself away from the window. The room shuddered as a tectonic plate deep below the grumbling earth shifted. A volcano rumbled. With a loud crack! a huge jagged fissure ripped through the ceiling. Bits of rock fell, smashing to the floor, shattering around his feet. A fire exploded in the fireplace. An impossible gust of wind sent it lashing towards the lizard-skin chair which caught, then lit up. Bright orange fire raced down the arms. Seconds later, it burst into flames like a torch. His window smashed into pieces, as though someone had punched through it with a fist of steel. Bits of glass joined the shattered rock. The mattress in his four-poster bed began to lift and tilt. It floated in the air for a moment before sucking up into the highest part of the ceiling, vanishing from sight. The bed itself scraped across the floor as it moved. A cabinet toppled over with a crash. A chair skidded across the floor, then smashed into the wall.

What need did he have of his room anymore? Kaitlyn was gone.

Lucifer marched across the floor, tearing off his gown as he did. The door blasted open and flew down the hallway. Lucifer followed it. His demonic pets scuttled fearfully out of the way. Shadows pulled back as his greater demons avoided him.

At first he walked, his fists clenched at his sides, eyes narrowed, jaw hard. Then he started to run.

Then sprint.

The torches on either side of him snuffed out at his passing. His footsteps were like thunder. His breaths were like the gusting wind. His blue eyes flashed like lightning. He reached the end of the hall, the great entry doors that led to his home crashing open in his wake. His feet hit the soft, warm ash of the dead. The heat of his hellfires turned his lungs warm.

The sky above swirled grey and smoky. Volcanoes belched their toxic fumes. Rivers of sludge snaked between craggy, soot-covered mountains. The Damned screamed as their dark figures thrashed in the flames. More dark figures scurried around hills, hid themselves in the dirt, swam through the poisonous water.

Lucifer saw none of it, his thoughts on one impossible task—getting Kaitlyn back. A precipice lay ahead. His feet sank through the ash. More ash settled in his hair. The stench of smoke and sulphur and burning flesh filled his nose. He felt no pain, no muscle aches, no fatigue. He was Satan, after all, God's most infamous fallen angel. Neither dead nor alive.

Just as his toes met the edge of the precipice, his great, white wings exploded from his back in a blaze of white light. The air roared past his face as he plummeted. Directly below, a river of black sludge lapped at a beach of grey ash and jagged rock. The wind gusted in his face. The desolate beach rose up to meet him. Just feet before he hit the ground, he thrust out his wings to their fullest breadth and arced upwards. With great, powerful flaps, he soared up beyond tall hills, enormous volcanoes, to the very tips of the greatest mountains, aiming for the swirling sky.

He could feel her still, like a sharp stab in his chest. She was still within his grasp. She wasn't in God's hands yet. He could still take her back. She could still fulfil the prophecy. Eyes focused above, he continued to flap his great wings until he vanished into the swirling clouds—but that was as far as he got. He tried to rise higher but something prevented him, something that bent him backwards like a shield or a great, powerful hand shoving him back.

With a roar, he raked his nails through the clouds. He flapped his wings again and again, powerful flaps that churned the smoky air like a tornado—but it did nothing. He could not break through the barrier. God's barrier. The bars of his cage. He bashed himself up against it. He tried smashing his fist through it. He kicked his legs and butted his head. He even tried using his teeth. But nothing worked, just as he knew it wouldn't.

He was helpless.

The stab in his chest felt deep. And he was so close! He could feel her just above, just an arm's reach away.

'KAITLYN!' he roared.

But it was pointless. She couldn't hear him. She probably didn't know he existed anymore. Despite all his power, he couldn't do a thing to help her.

'JACOB!' he cried. 'STOP HER!'