The devil's Pact - S01 E398

Story 19 hours ago

The devil's Pact - S01 E398

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 398

The Whore's Daughters

The first crisis to challenge the Tyrants was the demoness Lilith. The Whore of Babylon had made her nest in the City of Seattle, breeding scores of her foul children. They were the monsters of old that had haunted mankind before the Flood. Our stories and legends abound with the memories of these vile and loathsome creatures, and though their names have been lost to modern memory, and it has been eons since they stalked the world, mankind's primal fear of them has never diminished: Thu'ban, Lamia, Tzavua, Alukah, Dever, Lamassu, Re'em, Mazikeen, Dabbat, Tzelanit, Agas, Pazuzu, Tir, Manticore, Dimme.

-excerpt from 'The History of the Tyrants' Theocracy', by Tina Allard

Tuesday, November 12th, 2013-Lana Paquet-Holub - Seattle, WA

"They are here," Lilith calmly told me as Zuzu's screeching howl faded away. "You know what to do?"

Ice water flowed through my veins. Mark was here! "I...yes," I stammered, trying to focus. I had a job to do. I had to make the portal.

Gunfire erupted outside; I jumped. "Go!" Lilith shouted.

I turned and ran, racing through the halls past the panicked women and their monstrous daughters. "To the basement!" I shouted at them, reminding them what to do. "Clear the damned way!" I roared at a group huddled in the hallway. "And follow me!"

Many of Lilith's children were still too young to fight, the latest batch only born vesterdav. More than a hundred of them. the batch only born yesterday. More than a hundred of them, the largest group yet birthed, but Mark's attack came too soon. We just needed another day or two, and maybe we would have had a chance to hold the warehouse. I pushed through the crowd, forcing my way down the last stairs into the musty basement

"Chantelle!" I shouted in relief.

My wife smiled at me as she drew a portal with a bronze knife, struggling to saw open the Veil. I picked up one of the bronze knives laid out on the table, and started cutting my own portal open. Thamina arrived a minute later, pushing through the growing crowd of frightened women. More gunfire and loud roars could be heard outside.

"Hurry!" I shouted at Thamina as she took up a bronze knife. There were only three of us here that could create portals. As Thamina began to draw hers, I finished mine, a hole in the fabric of reality opening into the misty Shadows. "Stay close!" I yelled as women and young monsters pushed through.

Chantelle finished drawing her portal at the same time as Thamina. My wife was always so slow at it for some reason. We were fleeing to Africa, to a tiny village in the Congo where more of Lilith's daughters waited to be born. It was so galling. There were five villages in the Congo, nearly a thousand women just days away from birthing Lilith an army.

We were so damned close!

Fiona Cavanagh

My phone alarm went off, beeping incessantly and dragging me up from the depths of sleep.

"Fuck," I muttered, reaching my phone and swiping the alarm off. 4:30 AM. Too fucking early. This was the third time I had to wake- up and check on Mayor Erikson. He should still be asleep; he never caused any problems. He was too far under Lamia's spell to resist at this point.

Lilith wanted him watched. She didn't believe in leaving things to chance. I stood up, stretched, and padded out into the hallways. My feet slapped on the hardwood floor, and I scratched an itch on my side. I reached his bedroom, opened the door and saw the Mayor sleeping peacefully alone. I stifled a yawn, and turned to

stumbled back to my room and get another hour or so of blessed sleep.

I froze when a splintering crash echoed through the house. Panic gripped my mind. It was only when the soldier threw me to the floor and put his boot on my back that I finally was able to think. Then it was too late. I had been captured, and terror squeezed my heart with a powerful fist until was sure my poor organ would be crushed to a pulp. My greatest fear had happened.

I was at Mark's mercy again.

Mark Glassne

The monster, Lilithi's daughter, fell from the sky, landing amidst the Rangers and bowling them over. She was big, thickly muscled, and bullish. Red-feathered wings folded almost gracefully behind the monstrosity's back. Her foot lashed out, slamming into a Ranger's chest. With a sickening crunch, he toppled backwards, and flopped like a fish on the deck of a boat.

"Fuck!" I shouted. "Firel Fire, damn you!"

The Rangers' training took over; they fired their M16s at the monster. Red sprouted about the bullish woman from the bullet wounds. For a moment, the brute looked like she could take the punishment, the bullets only minor irritation. And maybe only a few were, but as she stepped forward, dozens and dozens pricked her skin. She staggered, the little wounds adding up, and collapsed into a great heap.

I glanced back at Mary, her face white with shock.

"Keller, Baxter, breach that door!" the lleutenant barked. "Don't just stand around with your dicks in your hand! Move, Rangers!"

Two Rangers blinked, shaking off their shock, and sprinted for the door. They were followed by four others. One pulled out a breaching charge, a rectangle made of duct tape and plastic explosives, and was about to slap it on the door, when the entire metal wall of the warehouse exploded outwards. The Ranger with the explosives was slammed to the ground beneath twisted aluminum siding. A hulking woman, ten feet tall, strode through the carnage, a thick piece of lumber clutched in one hand like a club.