Three ficlets, because I can :)
Title: This one's a keeper
Author: icarusflying
Rating: R
Genre: Horror
Characters: Dean, Alistair
Pairings: none
Warnings: torture
Spoilers: season 4
Notes: Uh, I kinda creeped myself out. So yeah, hell is not a pretty place.
Word Count: 678
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke.
Summary: Hell's chief torturer gets a new toy and it's a keeper.
"Sic 'em, boy."
Lilith opens the door with a twisted smile and Dean's world goes still. The hellhound is larger than any dog or wolf could be. Black fur (skin, not fur, Dean realizes. The thing has no fur.) and red eyes like hellfire. It stands still for a moment, snarling. Then, it attacks.
He's suspended above hell, screaming for Sam, for anyone to save him. After what seems like ages, his voice breaks and when he can't scream any more, he stops. Dean's lips move, but no sound comes through them. If it had, it would only be one word: Sam.
Something is crawling down the chains, each move vibrating through Dean's body, pulling his flesh and muscles from the bones. Demons, Dean realizes through the haze of pain. They're not just black demonic smoke anymore. They look human, but there's nothing human about them. Hellfire burnt away everything but the very worst. Their movement is disjointed, arms and legs moving at impossible angles. Tar-black skin stretched thin over unnaturally long bones, blood and pus seeping through the pores. They scratch at him with long claws, scream and whisper in his ears.
Winchester. Hunter. Ours.
The demons claw and tear until there's nothing left and darkness sweeps over him. Dean welcomes it like a gift.
He's thrown out of the dark, gasping for breath. The chains are gone, replaced by nails through his hands and feet. Like a fucked up crucifix, he's nailed to a wall in a dark red room, long, rusted nails through his hands and feet. He tries to focus, but his vision keeps swimming. The wall is warm where his body touches it, and he can see the red paint trickling to the floor. Only it's not paint, he realizes. It's blood. The entire room is bleeding from the walls and that's just fucking sick. He throws up all over himself, tears mixing with blood and bile.
"You are a disgusting species."
A demon is standing in front of him. It's female-shaped and its smile reveals a shark-like set of teeth. Too many and too sharp.
"Fuck you," Dean spits and the demon chuckles.
"Is that all you can come up with? Even for you, Dean Winchester, this is weak. Then again, you are weak. Aren't you?"
The demon runs a hand down his cheek and it feels like fire.
"Weak and scared and so, so fragile. Just the way we like you." The demon's other hand punches through the flesh and bone and the pain nearly sends Dean over. Nearly. The demon grabs hold of something inside of him and pulls. The last thing Dean sees before the darkness returns is his own heart, still pumping in the demon's hand.
He comes to and he's still in the same room. His chest is whole, only coagulated blood and pieces of flesh and bone stuck to his skin offering proof of what happened. Dean's heaving again, but his stomach's empty and nothing comes out. It's only when he tries to move that he realizes the nails are still in place and another demon had joined the first one. This one looks male, if only for the shape. It smiles as sweetly as a shark-toothed, tar-skinned, straight-out-of-your-worst-nightmare hellspawn can and raises a long, glistening razor to Dean's neck, just barely breaking the skin.
"Hello, Dean," it says with a voice that promises pain. "So nice to finally meet you." It turns back to the first demon.
"Give Lilith my thanks, sweetheart. This one's a keeper."
The first demon bows its head and turns to leave.
"Have fun, Alistair."
Alistair runs the razor slowly down Dean's chest and it hurts so much more than it fucking should, but Dean doesn't make a sound. He stares the demon right in the face, his expression worth a thousand words. Alistair chuckles.
"You think you're tough, Dean?" The razor digs deeper and scrapes against the bone. "You're so tough, I'm gonna carve you into a whole new animal. But first, I wanna hear you scream."
And he does.
Title: Family don't end with blood
Author: icarusflying
Rating: PG
Genre: Pre-series
Characters: Bobby, Campbells, Winchesters
Warnings: mentions of character death(s)
Spoilers: everything up to and including 5.02
Word Count: 1350
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke.
Summary: Robert Steven Singer is twenty-six years old when his wife attacks him with a kitchen knife.
1970
Robert Steven Singer is twenty-six years old when he comes home with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates on the second anniversary of his marriage. He eats dinner with his wife and they make plans to go see the Grand Canyon in the summer. Two hours later, he comes out of the shower and the love of his live attacks him with a kitchen knife. Her eyes are pitch black.
* * *
Lawrence, Kansas
The doorbell rings at exactly four fifteen am. The first time goes widely unnoticed by the members of the Campbell household and as far as the patriarch of the family is concerned, the same goes for the second and third times. His wife Deanna is less fortunate and curses both the intruder and her oblivious husband on principle as she makes her way downstairs.
She opens the door just wide enough to see the man who dared to wake her up at such a god-awful hour and keeps her free hand on the gun just in case the intruder isn't really a man.
"Yes?"
"Oh, uh, I'm sorry to wake you, ma'am."
"Well, you did," Deanna's really a very nice woman, but at the moment she's got better things to do than be polite to a stranger in a trucker cap. Namely, sleep.
"I'm sorry," the man repeats, looking somewhat embarrased. "My name's Bobby Singer. I'm looking for Samuel Campbell?"
"Why?"
"He, uh, he saved my life. In South Dakota about a month ago."
The demonic posession, Deanna remembers. Some hellspawn got its kicks from killing happily married couples.
"Come in," says Samuel from behind his wife's back.
At the sound of her husband's voice, Deanna steps away from the door, letting Singer inside. She watches the two men go into the living room and heads into the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, fully dressed and balancing three cups of coffee, Deanna is shocked to realize how awful Singer actually looks. He's dead pale and probably hasn't shaved in days. Or showered, or slept, for that matter.
She hands him his cup and sits on the sofa next to Samuel who slightly relaxes when Singer takes the first sip of hot coffee. Not posessed, then.
"What are you doing here, Singer?" Deanna's husband asks, not unkindly.
The man cradles the steaming cup in his hands.
"I don't know," he admits. "I don't know what to do."
Deanna takes the cup from his hands and smiles. It's hard, she tells him. To accept what happened, that demons are real.
"Does it ever get easier?" he asks her.
"No. You just get used to it," Samuel answers instead of his wife.
"Are there more? Of these things, I mean."
The Campbells exchange a look. They know where this is going and neither of them likes it. There aren't a lot of hunters in the world, but most of them agree on one thing even if they wouldn't admit it: once you know the truth, you can't go back. Even if most of them wish they could.
"Yes," Deanna finally breaks the silence. "There are. Not just demons."
"And you people kill them."
"Some of them. You can't kill demons," Samuel explains when Singer looks puzzled. "Just send them back to hell."
Singer nods. "So it's not dead. The thing that killed my wife, it can come back?"
"It might."
And that's it. Years later, Bobby Singer will remember this as the moment his life changed forever. Not the night he found out demons were real and one of them posessed his wife, but the night he found out it could come back.
1973
Lawrence, Kansas
May, 1973
Bobby sees Mary before she sees him. He's sitting in a diner in Lawrence, thinking of death and demons when she comes in. She looks good, but not okay. The smile she gives him is sad, just for show, like his.
"Mom wanted you to have this," she says as soon as she sits down. She hands him an envelope and it feels heavy in his hand. He stares at Deanna's elegant writing.
Robert Steven Singer
He doesn't open the envelope for two weeks. On his last night in Lawrence, after he finally has to admit the demon that had killed the Campbells is long gone, Bobby takes a deep breath and reads Deanna's letter, hearing her voice in his head.
It speaks of him and Samuel and Mary, most of all. Of Deanna's family and a long line of hunters. Of Mary's desire for normal and John Winchester who wasn't quite the man Samuel wanted for his daughter.
There's an amulet inside the envelope. A golden head with horns, heavier than it looks.
* * *
Bobby Singer is twenty-nine years old when Mary Campbell calls from Lawrence to tell him her parents are dead. He drives to Kansas and starts looking for clues, but there's none. The only other witness is Mary's boyfriend John, but Mary won't let Bobby talk to him. John's a civillian and Mary wants to keep it that way, won't let Bobby even meet the man. After two weeks, Bobby makes Mary promise to call him if something happens and goes back home. He makes sure to check in on her every few weeks, then months.
In January, '79, Mary calls him, tells him of a baby boy called Dean with green eyes. He's happy for her. Her and John's second son, Sam, named after his grandfather, is born on the tenth anniversary of Samuel and Deanna's deaths, but Bobby doesn't find that out until nearly a decade later. By then, it's too late.
1983
Bobby Singer is thirty-nine the year Mary Winchester burns to death in her son's nursery. By the time he finds out about it, she had been dead for months and her husband and sons had disappeared.
It's hard to find a man who doesn't want to be found and it takes Bobby years to track down the last of Mary's family. By then, John Winchester is far from a civillian and the boys are living the very life their mother tried so hard to leave behind.
1991
Sam Winchester is eight years old when Bobby Singer gives him a present for his father. Months later, just after Dean turns thirteen, the Winchesters come back to South Dakota and Mary's firstborn is wearing his grandmother's amulet around his neck.
2006 - 2008
Bobby is sixty-two when John Winchester dies. He's almost sixty-three when Mary's firstborn kills the demon who took her life.
Dean Winchester is twenty-nine years, three months and one week old when Lilith's hounds drag his soul to hell while his brother watches.
A month later, Sam disappears and Bobby spends the summer with Jim, Jack and Jose, mourning a cursed family.
Dean Winchester had been dead for four months when an angel rescues him from hell.
2009
Bobby's wife has been dead for thirty-nine years; Dean and Sam are thirty and twenty-six years old the year Lucifer is released from hell and the apocalypse begins.
Bobby Singer is sixty-five years old when he stabs himself to save Dean's life. He'd been a hunter for thirty-nine years when he finds out he might never walk again.
Mary Winchester had been dead for twenty-six years, her parents a decade longer the year Castiel tells Dean the amulet he never takes off is the one thing that can find God.
Robert Steven Singer is sixty-five years old when he realizes he still doesn't know much about the family he'd known for nearly four decades. There are things he might never know, but one thing is certain: family doesn't end with blood. And that's all Bobby Singer needs to know, even as the entire world is falling apart. His entire family consists of two brothers with more issues that a man can count and there's a pretty big chance they'll all be dead by the end, but if there's one thing Bobby knows it's this: they're gonna go down swingin'. And to this old hunter, that's all that matters.
Title: From the ashes a fire
Author: icarusflying
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen
Characters: Lucifer
Pairings: none
Spoilers: up to 4.04
Notes: /
Word Count: 785
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. Title from Tolkien.
Summary: Morningstar is gone and from his grave, Lucifer rises.
+
He was the oldest, the most beautiful, perfect. He was the one that loved Father more than anything, even his own brethren. He was Morningstar and he fell.
His fall was not like any other's; they fell to Earth and were reborn. He was the first and Father cast him into the dark, past the fire and into the ice. His wings were torn from him, golden feathers turned to dust and blood, his body chained with ice and steel and Father's will.
Father and his brothers looked down on him disappointed when all he did was love Him most. And for that love, he fell.
He was alone for so long until his brothers came. Azazel followed first, then others. And finally, Lilith. She wasn't one of them, used to be human like the ones that caused Morningstar's fall, but she came willingly and with her, hell was open to the souls of men.
+
He was the first, the oldest, the Fallen One. He was the one who fought against the Father and his brothers. He was Morningstar and he fell.
+
Hell is a prison of flesh and blood and fear, but not for him. For him, hell is ice. Hell is waiting. Hell is knowing that one day, he will rise again and his wings will be more than a whispered memory. Hell is watching souls burn and demons being born, it is envy when they crawl back out while He has to stay.
He had been a prisoner for so long, but they hadn't failed him. Azazel who followed first hadn't failed him. Again and again, the others stopped him and again and again, he kept trying. Azazel would free the Fallen One. He had found a way.
+
He was the first and Azazel was second and there were others who once had wings of golden light and fell. And Lilith, who never did fly, but fell under His power and brought souls with her to feed the fire.
+
He who had been Morningstar lay chained in ice, watching as the world changed and weak mortals were born and died and fell and rose again once their souls were gone and hellfire ran through what had been their veins. And all that time, Father and his winged children waited and Azazel had a plan. The Fallen One lay in ice, watching as a child was born and Azazel fed him hell.
Over time, all that had followed Morningstar had left. Azazel died at the hands of a mortal and the Fallen One wept for his brother. Lilith left as well, to complete Azazel's plan and for a time, He was alone, until the man came. Lilith's hounds dragged Azazel's killer into the Pit and Azazel's chosen wept for his older brother. In hell, Azazel's killer cried and bled and screamed for his brother who would bring the end of the world. And for the first time in eons, Lucifer laughed.
+
He was the first, the oldest and most beautiful. He was Morningstar and He fell and became Lucifer.
+
The chains that held Lucifer imprisoned were breaking, hell was changing and Morningstar's former brothers laid siege to hell to save Azazel's killer. But they had been too late. A righteous man had broken in hell. He took the razor from Alistair's hand and cut a screaming soul wide open and for the second time, Lucifer laughed. An angel wept as he gripped Azazel's killer tight and raised him back into the world. But salvation had been too late.
Azazel's chosen was strong and angry. Again and again, he opened the way to hell and sent the demons burning back. And each time Lilith's children died, their killer grew stronger. Lilith's plan had worked and her most loyal corrupted the boy with lies and promises of salvation. She fed Azazel's chosen with her own blood and with it, she fed him hell. Her loyalty would be rewarded.
+
Lilith was the Devil's first and she died at the hands of a man with hellfire in his veins. Her blood rained onto hell and ate through Satan's chains and set Him free.
Lucifer laughed and his voice echoed through the depts of hell and the heights of heaven and the world trembled at the sound.
+
A righteous man broke the first seal. A vengeful man broke the last. Two among the Father's most beloved creations had released the Fallen One from his prison. They would be rewarded.
+
He was the first, the fairest and most powerful of all God's angels. He was Morningstar and he fell.
+
Morningstar is gone and from his grave, Lucifer rises.
Author: icarusflying
Rating: R
Genre: Horror
Characters: Dean, Alistair
Pairings: none
Warnings: torture
Spoilers: season 4
Notes: Uh, I kinda creeped myself out. So yeah, hell is not a pretty place.
Word Count: 678
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke.
Summary: Hell's chief torturer gets a new toy and it's a keeper.
"Sic 'em, boy."
Lilith opens the door with a twisted smile and Dean's world goes still. The hellhound is larger than any dog or wolf could be. Black fur (skin, not fur, Dean realizes. The thing has no fur.) and red eyes like hellfire. It stands still for a moment, snarling. Then, it attacks.
He's suspended above hell, screaming for Sam, for anyone to save him. After what seems like ages, his voice breaks and when he can't scream any more, he stops. Dean's lips move, but no sound comes through them. If it had, it would only be one word: Sam.
Something is crawling down the chains, each move vibrating through Dean's body, pulling his flesh and muscles from the bones. Demons, Dean realizes through the haze of pain. They're not just black demonic smoke anymore. They look human, but there's nothing human about them. Hellfire burnt away everything but the very worst. Their movement is disjointed, arms and legs moving at impossible angles. Tar-black skin stretched thin over unnaturally long bones, blood and pus seeping through the pores. They scratch at him with long claws, scream and whisper in his ears.
Winchester. Hunter. Ours.
The demons claw and tear until there's nothing left and darkness sweeps over him. Dean welcomes it like a gift.
He's thrown out of the dark, gasping for breath. The chains are gone, replaced by nails through his hands and feet. Like a fucked up crucifix, he's nailed to a wall in a dark red room, long, rusted nails through his hands and feet. He tries to focus, but his vision keeps swimming. The wall is warm where his body touches it, and he can see the red paint trickling to the floor. Only it's not paint, he realizes. It's blood. The entire room is bleeding from the walls and that's just fucking sick. He throws up all over himself, tears mixing with blood and bile.
"You are a disgusting species."
A demon is standing in front of him. It's female-shaped and its smile reveals a shark-like set of teeth. Too many and too sharp.
"Fuck you," Dean spits and the demon chuckles.
"Is that all you can come up with? Even for you, Dean Winchester, this is weak. Then again, you are weak. Aren't you?"
The demon runs a hand down his cheek and it feels like fire.
"Weak and scared and so, so fragile. Just the way we like you." The demon's other hand punches through the flesh and bone and the pain nearly sends Dean over. Nearly. The demon grabs hold of something inside of him and pulls. The last thing Dean sees before the darkness returns is his own heart, still pumping in the demon's hand.
He comes to and he's still in the same room. His chest is whole, only coagulated blood and pieces of flesh and bone stuck to his skin offering proof of what happened. Dean's heaving again, but his stomach's empty and nothing comes out. It's only when he tries to move that he realizes the nails are still in place and another demon had joined the first one. This one looks male, if only for the shape. It smiles as sweetly as a shark-toothed, tar-skinned, straight-out-of-your-worst-nightmare hellspawn can and raises a long, glistening razor to Dean's neck, just barely breaking the skin.
"Hello, Dean," it says with a voice that promises pain. "So nice to finally meet you." It turns back to the first demon.
"Give Lilith my thanks, sweetheart. This one's a keeper."
The first demon bows its head and turns to leave.
"Have fun, Alistair."
Alistair runs the razor slowly down Dean's chest and it hurts so much more than it fucking should, but Dean doesn't make a sound. He stares the demon right in the face, his expression worth a thousand words. Alistair chuckles.
"You think you're tough, Dean?" The razor digs deeper and scrapes against the bone. "You're so tough, I'm gonna carve you into a whole new animal. But first, I wanna hear you scream."
And he does.
Title: Family don't end with blood
Author: icarusflying
Rating: PG
Genre: Pre-series
Characters: Bobby, Campbells, Winchesters
Warnings: mentions of character death(s)
Spoilers: everything up to and including 5.02
Word Count: 1350
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke.
Summary: Robert Steven Singer is twenty-six years old when his wife attacks him with a kitchen knife.
1970
Robert Steven Singer is twenty-six years old when he comes home with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates on the second anniversary of his marriage. He eats dinner with his wife and they make plans to go see the Grand Canyon in the summer. Two hours later, he comes out of the shower and the love of his live attacks him with a kitchen knife. Her eyes are pitch black.
* * *
Lawrence, Kansas
The doorbell rings at exactly four fifteen am. The first time goes widely unnoticed by the members of the Campbell household and as far as the patriarch of the family is concerned, the same goes for the second and third times. His wife Deanna is less fortunate and curses both the intruder and her oblivious husband on principle as she makes her way downstairs.
She opens the door just wide enough to see the man who dared to wake her up at such a god-awful hour and keeps her free hand on the gun just in case the intruder isn't really a man.
"Yes?"
"Oh, uh, I'm sorry to wake you, ma'am."
"Well, you did," Deanna's really a very nice woman, but at the moment she's got better things to do than be polite to a stranger in a trucker cap. Namely, sleep.
"I'm sorry," the man repeats, looking somewhat embarrased. "My name's Bobby Singer. I'm looking for Samuel Campbell?"
"Why?"
"He, uh, he saved my life. In South Dakota about a month ago."
The demonic posession, Deanna remembers. Some hellspawn got its kicks from killing happily married couples.
"Come in," says Samuel from behind his wife's back.
At the sound of her husband's voice, Deanna steps away from the door, letting Singer inside. She watches the two men go into the living room and heads into the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, fully dressed and balancing three cups of coffee, Deanna is shocked to realize how awful Singer actually looks. He's dead pale and probably hasn't shaved in days. Or showered, or slept, for that matter.
She hands him his cup and sits on the sofa next to Samuel who slightly relaxes when Singer takes the first sip of hot coffee. Not posessed, then.
"What are you doing here, Singer?" Deanna's husband asks, not unkindly.
The man cradles the steaming cup in his hands.
"I don't know," he admits. "I don't know what to do."
Deanna takes the cup from his hands and smiles. It's hard, she tells him. To accept what happened, that demons are real.
"Does it ever get easier?" he asks her.
"No. You just get used to it," Samuel answers instead of his wife.
"Are there more? Of these things, I mean."
The Campbells exchange a look. They know where this is going and neither of them likes it. There aren't a lot of hunters in the world, but most of them agree on one thing even if they wouldn't admit it: once you know the truth, you can't go back. Even if most of them wish they could.
"Yes," Deanna finally breaks the silence. "There are. Not just demons."
"And you people kill them."
"Some of them. You can't kill demons," Samuel explains when Singer looks puzzled. "Just send them back to hell."
Singer nods. "So it's not dead. The thing that killed my wife, it can come back?"
"It might."
And that's it. Years later, Bobby Singer will remember this as the moment his life changed forever. Not the night he found out demons were real and one of them posessed his wife, but the night he found out it could come back.
1973
Lawrence, Kansas
May, 1973
Bobby sees Mary before she sees him. He's sitting in a diner in Lawrence, thinking of death and demons when she comes in. She looks good, but not okay. The smile she gives him is sad, just for show, like his.
"Mom wanted you to have this," she says as soon as she sits down. She hands him an envelope and it feels heavy in his hand. He stares at Deanna's elegant writing.
Robert Steven Singer
He doesn't open the envelope for two weeks. On his last night in Lawrence, after he finally has to admit the demon that had killed the Campbells is long gone, Bobby takes a deep breath and reads Deanna's letter, hearing her voice in his head.
It speaks of him and Samuel and Mary, most of all. Of Deanna's family and a long line of hunters. Of Mary's desire for normal and John Winchester who wasn't quite the man Samuel wanted for his daughter.
There's an amulet inside the envelope. A golden head with horns, heavier than it looks.
* * *
Bobby Singer is twenty-nine years old when Mary Campbell calls from Lawrence to tell him her parents are dead. He drives to Kansas and starts looking for clues, but there's none. The only other witness is Mary's boyfriend John, but Mary won't let Bobby talk to him. John's a civillian and Mary wants to keep it that way, won't let Bobby even meet the man. After two weeks, Bobby makes Mary promise to call him if something happens and goes back home. He makes sure to check in on her every few weeks, then months.
In January, '79, Mary calls him, tells him of a baby boy called Dean with green eyes. He's happy for her. Her and John's second son, Sam, named after his grandfather, is born on the tenth anniversary of Samuel and Deanna's deaths, but Bobby doesn't find that out until nearly a decade later. By then, it's too late.
1983
Bobby Singer is thirty-nine the year Mary Winchester burns to death in her son's nursery. By the time he finds out about it, she had been dead for months and her husband and sons had disappeared.
It's hard to find a man who doesn't want to be found and it takes Bobby years to track down the last of Mary's family. By then, John Winchester is far from a civillian and the boys are living the very life their mother tried so hard to leave behind.
1991
Sam Winchester is eight years old when Bobby Singer gives him a present for his father. Months later, just after Dean turns thirteen, the Winchesters come back to South Dakota and Mary's firstborn is wearing his grandmother's amulet around his neck.
2006 - 2008
Bobby is sixty-two when John Winchester dies. He's almost sixty-three when Mary's firstborn kills the demon who took her life.
Dean Winchester is twenty-nine years, three months and one week old when Lilith's hounds drag his soul to hell while his brother watches.
A month later, Sam disappears and Bobby spends the summer with Jim, Jack and Jose, mourning a cursed family.
Dean Winchester had been dead for four months when an angel rescues him from hell.
2009
Bobby's wife has been dead for thirty-nine years; Dean and Sam are thirty and twenty-six years old the year Lucifer is released from hell and the apocalypse begins.
Bobby Singer is sixty-five years old when he stabs himself to save Dean's life. He'd been a hunter for thirty-nine years when he finds out he might never walk again.
Mary Winchester had been dead for twenty-six years, her parents a decade longer the year Castiel tells Dean the amulet he never takes off is the one thing that can find God.
Robert Steven Singer is sixty-five years old when he realizes he still doesn't know much about the family he'd known for nearly four decades. There are things he might never know, but one thing is certain: family doesn't end with blood. And that's all Bobby Singer needs to know, even as the entire world is falling apart. His entire family consists of two brothers with more issues that a man can count and there's a pretty big chance they'll all be dead by the end, but if there's one thing Bobby knows it's this: they're gonna go down swingin'. And to this old hunter, that's all that matters.
Title: From the ashes a fire
Author: icarusflying
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen
Characters: Lucifer
Pairings: none
Spoilers: up to 4.04
Notes: /
Word Count: 785
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. Title from Tolkien.
Summary: Morningstar is gone and from his grave, Lucifer rises.
+
He was the oldest, the most beautiful, perfect. He was the one that loved Father more than anything, even his own brethren. He was Morningstar and he fell.
His fall was not like any other's; they fell to Earth and were reborn. He was the first and Father cast him into the dark, past the fire and into the ice. His wings were torn from him, golden feathers turned to dust and blood, his body chained with ice and steel and Father's will.
Father and his brothers looked down on him disappointed when all he did was love Him most. And for that love, he fell.
He was alone for so long until his brothers came. Azazel followed first, then others. And finally, Lilith. She wasn't one of them, used to be human like the ones that caused Morningstar's fall, but she came willingly and with her, hell was open to the souls of men.
+
He was the first, the oldest, the Fallen One. He was the one who fought against the Father and his brothers. He was Morningstar and he fell.
+
Hell is a prison of flesh and blood and fear, but not for him. For him, hell is ice. Hell is waiting. Hell is knowing that one day, he will rise again and his wings will be more than a whispered memory. Hell is watching souls burn and demons being born, it is envy when they crawl back out while He has to stay.
He had been a prisoner for so long, but they hadn't failed him. Azazel who followed first hadn't failed him. Again and again, the others stopped him and again and again, he kept trying. Azazel would free the Fallen One. He had found a way.
+
He was the first and Azazel was second and there were others who once had wings of golden light and fell. And Lilith, who never did fly, but fell under His power and brought souls with her to feed the fire.
+
He who had been Morningstar lay chained in ice, watching as the world changed and weak mortals were born and died and fell and rose again once their souls were gone and hellfire ran through what had been their veins. And all that time, Father and his winged children waited and Azazel had a plan. The Fallen One lay in ice, watching as a child was born and Azazel fed him hell.
Over time, all that had followed Morningstar had left. Azazel died at the hands of a mortal and the Fallen One wept for his brother. Lilith left as well, to complete Azazel's plan and for a time, He was alone, until the man came. Lilith's hounds dragged Azazel's killer into the Pit and Azazel's chosen wept for his older brother. In hell, Azazel's killer cried and bled and screamed for his brother who would bring the end of the world. And for the first time in eons, Lucifer laughed.
+
He was the first, the oldest and most beautiful. He was Morningstar and He fell and became Lucifer.
+
The chains that held Lucifer imprisoned were breaking, hell was changing and Morningstar's former brothers laid siege to hell to save Azazel's killer. But they had been too late. A righteous man had broken in hell. He took the razor from Alistair's hand and cut a screaming soul wide open and for the second time, Lucifer laughed. An angel wept as he gripped Azazel's killer tight and raised him back into the world. But salvation had been too late.
Azazel's chosen was strong and angry. Again and again, he opened the way to hell and sent the demons burning back. And each time Lilith's children died, their killer grew stronger. Lilith's plan had worked and her most loyal corrupted the boy with lies and promises of salvation. She fed Azazel's chosen with her own blood and with it, she fed him hell. Her loyalty would be rewarded.
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Lilith was the Devil's first and she died at the hands of a man with hellfire in his veins. Her blood rained onto hell and ate through Satan's chains and set Him free.
Lucifer laughed and his voice echoed through the depts of hell and the heights of heaven and the world trembled at the sound.
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A righteous man broke the first seal. A vengeful man broke the last. Two among the Father's most beloved creations had released the Fallen One from his prison. They would be rewarded.
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He was the first, the fairest and most powerful of all God's angels. He was Morningstar and he fell.
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Morningstar is gone and from his grave, Lucifer rises.