In the Bowels of the Earth
“So
shall the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the bowels of the earth”
(Matthew 12:40)
The Chronicles
of Zagob, scribe to Lord Lucifer, blessed be he who is the Master of Lies, the
Prince of the Wind, Lord of the Flies and the Accuser of the Enemy! The 26th Cycle of the 4th
Age.
Entry One:
This morning the Master is
filled with glee because of his victory over the self-claimed “Son of Man.” This so-called Great One was destroyed
yestereve by the Master’s cunning design.
The Master’s plan led to the chosen ones rejecting this so-called
Messiah. This led to this Son of Man’s
destruction. This “Great One” claimed he was to set up a kingdom to rival that of my Master’s—who is truly the
only one who can be called “Great!” This Son of Man also was supposed to have
freed the People from their bondage (humph, and all He did was die! Most
disappointing!) However, this Son of Man
was not with out power, He was casting many of the brethren out of their homes
and, thus, was causing quite a disturbance among the damned. But his power paled next to my Master’s plans
to bring about the downfall of this upstart “Son of Man.”
Tonight
we rejoice! All of hell gathers to honor
our Master and his victory! A banquet is
to be held this eve in the Hall of Screaming Souls. All of the damned are preparing to
attend. There truly is cause for
rejoicing as our Master, once again, is victorious over the scheme of the Enemy!
Entry two:
All the Master’s armies
are assembled about or in the Hall of Screaming Souls and never have the
rafters of the Hall shuddered so greatly!
The howls of the damned echo oh so sweetly inside the hallowed
walls! Never in all of eternity has there been such unholy revel!
Outside the Hall scores
and scores of lesser demons fill the plains of Hell as far as the eye can
see! The Master has provided fresh souls
for the Troopers to enjoy while their Minions stoke the fires of torment. The sight is truly grand! But the spectacle of the Master’s power
inside the Hall is grander still!
Inside the Hall, the
Flying Screamers are perched in grand array along the roof-beams (screaming, as
usual). The Red Archers are decked out
in parade dress around the balcony. The
Dumb Ones are silently assembled in front of the Gate of Sorrows. On the other end of the Hall, the Door of
Nightmares shakes to the undulating cries of the Insane Ones who guard it (at the
last banquet these were quite hard to control and are now under restraint).
The banquet table of the
Master is full tonight! The Third Caste,
Warlocks, are in robes of power and placed at the lower end of the banquet
table. The Second Caste, Master Liars
and Rhymers, are in ceremonial dress at the middle of the table. The First and greatest Caste, the Warlords,
are placed nearest the Master. Of
course, I sit in the seat of highest honor next to the Master at the head of
the table.
The Master stands and the
Hall’s clamor subsides to give ear to the Star of the Morning.
“A toast!”
the Master announces as he raises his cup, "To Hell!".
The Warlocks immediately
grab whoever, or whatever, is nearest and commence to satisfy their unearthly
appetites. The Rhymers, as usual, begin
arguing amongst themselves about who is the greatest. The Warlords, always hungry for war and for the
Master’s favor, start jockeying for position to ask the Master about his next
goal of destruction.
The Master looks at them over His cup and simply ignores them all as He inwardly revels over His
most recent victory. Ah! These are times
to remember indeed!
Entry Three:
“Lucifer!” a voice booms from elsewhere.
A quiet
hush quells the festivities. The Master
glances about nervously for a moment and then commands all to leave the Hall
and assemble on the castle battlements. Confusion and disarray reign as the gathering
of unholy ones breaks up and strives to get to their battle positions.
The
Master teleports us to the High
Tower of Death to see who
has challenged.
We all
are expecting a great army of Heaven’s Host to seek retribution for the
purported Great One’s demise. Instead,
there is only a lone warrior standing in the Corridor of Darkness.
The
Warrior is standing with a great white light surrounding him. He is attired in a glowing chain-mail blouse,
knee-high battle boots, an armored girdle and a war-helm. He has a flaming sword in his right hand and
a heavy battle-axe in his left. His
physique is that of a well-trained warrior.
Muscles ripple throughout his body as he yells, “Deceiver! I have come!”
The
Master stares for a moment and then begins giggling before finally bursting
into roaring laughter! Hell echoes with the mirth of the unholy brethren as
they join in the Master’s cheer. “Who are you to challenge the host of hell?!”
the Master bellows.
“I AM!” is the returning cry.
The
silence that follows is enough to stifle even the Insane Ones.
Entry Four:
“Impossible!”
screams the Master. “Attack Flying Ones
and send this one below the floor of Hell!”
The
Flying Screamers launch off their perches and their screams shake the
foundations of the castle as they dive to attack this seemingly small threat.
“Drag
Him down, my Dumb Ones, drag Him to my feet in disgrace!” orders the Master.
In
response, the lumbering Dumb Ones swing their blunt clubs over their heads as
they drag themselves towards the White Warrior.
The
first wave of Screamers has reached the Warrior. The Master and I watch in dismay as the
Warrior’s axe beats the Flyers to the ground.
I stare
mesmerized as the Great Warrior’s sword continues to dance a dance of death to
the demon-born. As the first Dumb One
reaches the Warrior with a silent battle-cry upon its lips, the Warrior’s sword
flashes once and the demon’s noiseless mouth betrays its surprise as its head
rolls back the way it came.
The
Great Warrior seems unstoppable! The bodies continue to pile around him. His sword cleaves cursed bodies and his axe
smashes all who come before him.
Part of
me leaps with joy when the Insane Ones join the fight! They burst into unstoppable fury as they
shatter their bonds! They leap to attack
the Warrior and their evil laughter echoes off the walls of Hell.
At the
same time, the Warlocks unleash their arcane spells. Magicks whine as they
split the air.
The
Warrior’s weapons crackle and glow as they block and reflect the Warlock’s
attack into the massed charge of the Insane Ones. The remnant of the Insane Ones leap to attack
but the Warrior takes it all and returns two blows for each against Him.
Suddenly
the Flyers swoop in for another attack.
The ground around the Warrior erupts with fire-balls dropped from their
bony claws. The ferocity of the assault clouds the area around the Warrior with
a mass of dust and smoke.
My eyes
squint as the area clears—I can see nothing!
Perhaps the Screamers’ attack has succeeded! But…it can’t be! The Warrior stands! No wound pierces his flesh, no burn marks
cover his skin! How?! Only a true Great
One could stand against the combined might of Hell’s armies!
Entry Five:
The 28th cycle is upon us and the
fighting has not yet ceased. The Great
Warrior still fights on while the dead pile around Him. The Flying Screamers have been reduced to a
partly few, the Dumb and Insane Ones are obliterated, and the Warlocks are
nearly destroyed from their own attacks being hurled back against them.
Fortunately, the Master has yet to send the most powerful forces of Hell. I watch with unrighteous glee as the most
powerful castes prepare for the assault that will finally send this Great One
screaming out of the Abyss!
Yet the Warrior still
stands. With heaving breaths, he asks,
“Is that it?”
The
Master utters a shriek of incomprehensible rage and orders the Red Archers to
fire. The Rhymers and innumerable troops
of the Warlords move forward underneath the withering covering fire of the
Archers.
The
arrows fill the sky with clouds of death, but still none reach the Great
Warrior.
The
Rhymers belch great streams of hell-fire at the Warrior but he blocks the
blasts and returns the attack with shivering bolts of white flame that emit
from his sword.
The Warlords’ troops press
in but each wave of demon-kin is repelled by the Warrior’s flashing weapons of
holy fire. The Warlords order an all-out
assault. Hordes and hordes of demon warriors
and their servants hurdle over their dead and dying brethren to strike at the
lone Man. His sword never seems to slow and his axe
still rings out with the same strength as it had two days ago. The bodies continue to mount around the
Warrior until he is buried in the corpses of the unholy ones.
“Is he dead?” whispers the
remaining host hopefully as the din settles to a hush.
“ENOUGH!” the Warrior’s scream
pierces the silence. The piles of
corpses of the unholy brethren are thrown away from the Warrior by shafts of
brilliant light.
The light of the Warrior
leaves no shadow in Hell. All are blinded by the array of holy fire.
The corpses dissipate into
clouds of grey smoke. The Red Archers
all fall from their battlements. The
troops, and even the Warlords themselves, keel over from the bath of holy light
that overcomes them. The Rhymers are
blasted into nothingness. Even the
Master shies away from this baptism of holy fire.
To escape, the Master
teleports us to the throne room of Hell.
We arrive only to find the Great One waiting for us.
The Warrior captures the
Master with a grim glare, “Your games are over Evil One,” He growls with a
terribly loud whisper.
“NO!” screams the Master
as he lashes out in a last desperate attack.
The Warrior repels the
Master’s attack with ease and throws the Master on the throne in a crumpled
heap.
Without a word or gesture
from the Warrior, chains unexpectedly leap out of the ground and bind the
Master securely to the throne that has now become a prison.
“You are
defeated,” the Warrior states simply.
Then he is there no longer.
Thus ends my account of
the true Great One’s visit to Hell. I
think this will be my last entry in this journal for quite some time as the
lighting is experiencing some trouble and I seem to be kind of tied up.
“He has kept [Satan and his angels] in eternal
bonds under darkness of the judgment of the great day.” (Jude 6)
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