Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 455

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Chase Glassner

I flashed into the cafeteria on a beam of pure light. Doug and Tina awaited, along with hundreds of men and women that had been freed from my parents' tyranny. Around the world, seventy-one other pairs of Nuns and Monks had gathered similar groups, poised to lead their hundreds against the apparatus of my parents' rule.

Today, we would free mankind.

Today, I would die with my parents.

For the last year we had prepared slowly. Each Nun exorcising clusters of Thralls in small communities, careful and cautious, while I coordinated everything. Holding onto all those one-hundred and forty-four gifts, if only briefly, had changed me. I could see the Light, and travel upon the heavenly rays like the Angels. When I spoke, people listened, and were swayed by my new-found eloquence, understanding me in their native tongues. I would speak English, but a Spaniard would hear Spanish; a Filipino, Tagalog; an Egyptian, Arabic. My words would protect them, armoring them against my parents' words. A few had been captured, sadly, and hopefully they would hold out against torture.

We had thousands free ready around the world to attack all the centers of the Theocracy's powers. It wasn't enough just to kill my parents if the bureaucrats and priests remained behind ready to continue to rule in their names. We had to have something to offer in their place, or we were just condemning the world to anarchy.

I would be with Doug and his group as they attacked. I knew my parents and their security drills. They'd activate the shield and evacuate the mansion on the lawn. They'd be in the open and I would have my opportunity before they fled to whatever bolt-hole they decided and then things would be far more difficult.

“I've spoken to all the rest,” I told Doug, glancing at my watch. Flashing seventy-two times in just a short time was tiring, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins was helping to mask my weariness. “They will start their marches in seven minutes.”

Doug nodded, and summoned his golden armor. My father once had armor like that. He had been so magnificent when I had watched him duel Ashtoreth on the mansion lawn so many years ago. I had thought he was a hero. But I grew up, and, like all children, learned my parents were only flawed humans.

My hand shook, and I turned my back on Doug, walking to the window. I looked up South Hill at the concrete wall that segregated the Theocracy's Capital from its slaves. In a few minutes, five groups of armed, free Thralls would start marching on the seat of my parents' power, attacking it from all sides. Guns were checked as our followers readied themselves for battle, eager to take back their Liberty.

The blood of Patriots and Tyrants...

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Mark Glassner

Mary and I awoke to frantic knocks at our door.

“Sir!” 51 shouted, bursting in. She had dressed hastily, her blouse buttoned up wrong. “The Theocracy is under attack!”

“What?” I asked, sleepily. Mary stirred on my chest, sitting up.

“There are five armed groups attacking the perimeter. They number in the hundreds!”

“Shit!” I muttered. Hundreds? Those fucking nuns had been busy! “Pull back the guard! Sixty-four can't possibly hold against that many!”

“Yes, sir!” she saluted, her ebony face fierce and beautiful.

Mary stood up as maids scurried in with clothing. We hurriedly dressed, pulling on the black, utilitarian clothing we hadn't worn in thirty years. My heart raced; I hadn't felt adrenaline coursing so violently through my system since that day when the last Demon attacked the mansion. I had dueled Ashteroth just outside on the mansion's lawn and beheaded the bitch. April and Xiu had died that day.

My anger rose. We had grown lax. Thirty years of peace had made us complacent. This time we'll account for every last nun and priest. I'll set the entire world to hunt them down!

After pulling on black fatigues, I strapped on body armor. I missed my Celestial armor, and I had never fought in the enchanted vest before. Lastly I pulled on my bronze amulet, tucking it beneath the vest. Mary was dressed identically, sheathing a 9mm handgun while a maid tied her auburn hair back.

“Maids, take shelter in the basement,” I ordered, then we rushed out to the security room.

Alison and Desiree were waiting for us, hastily dressed in black fatigues. Excitement burned in Alison's face; she had always been so reckless during the Demon Wars. On the banks of security cameras was footage of the outer walls breached, and hordes of men and women pouring in, all carrying various automatic weapons.

“Where the fuck did they get those?” Mary demanded.

Alison shrugged. “Some cache a paranoid dictator buried during the troubles. Does it really matter, Mistress?”

“Sir, we're getting reports from across the globe,” a seemingly young Japanese communication officer said. Her name was Ami, a former Air Force officer that served us from before Lucifer was defeated. “Nine of the Administrative districts report they're under attack.”

I swallowed, feeling cold. Nine of fourteen. “Which ones?”

She opened her mouth to answer, then paused, listening into her headset. “Sir, Washington D.C.'s about to fall. Sean and Tiffany have barricaded themselves in their bedroom with the last two of their guards.”

“Central America?” I asked, fear clenching my stomach. My mother ruled from Mexico City.

“They haven't responded,” Roni, another former Air Force officer, answered. “I'm sorry, sir. Paris is reporting an armed mob attacking them, and there was a brief message from Tokyo.”

“We should retreat to the bunker,” Mary whispered, her face pale. Both of our parents were in trouble. And our sisters. Shit.

“Bunker?” I asked, my mind struggling to work as my fear was growing into white-hot anger. My mom and sister were in danger! These filthy vermin thought to hurt my family?

“The missile silo,” Mary answered. I hadn't thought of our bolt-hole in Oklahoma in decades. I was pretty sure we still had it maintained. Those SWAT officers were stationed there with their families. “There's no way they can know about it, Mark.”

Sam entered the room. “Sir, I've triggered the mansion's shield. I predict it will last fifteen minutes under the volume of fire.”

“Fuck that! I'm going out there and fighting them,” I barked. “I'm immortal. They can't hurt me! Even if they empty every fucking bullet they have into me I'll keep on going!”

“You'd be swarmed under and captured,” Mary objected.

“I have the power to do it. I'll open the ground beneath their feet, summon the winds to batter them, and cook them with fire! I am Mark Glassner, and I'll show them why you don't fuck with a living God!”

“It's too risky. We don't know enough, Mark.”

“I can crush them like the insects they are!” Molech's flames danced on my skin and Milcom's lightning crackled between my fingers. “I'll send the vermin scurrying back to their holes while you evacuate the mansion.”

She grabbed my arm. “We don't have enough information. What if there are more? We need to regroup and figure out what's going on!”

“Fuck!” I snarled. Her hand was soft on my hand, calm. She was always too cautious, but she was usually right. “We evacuate to the bunker.”

My anger died to a cold simmer. The gall of these Monks and Nuns to challenge us. Once we've regrouped, I'll make them realize the error of their mistake. I'll enjoy crushing them beneath my boot.

“We'll make them pay,” she whispered, her hand stroking my arm. “They'll suffer for every member of our family they've hurt.”

We walked outside, the blue shield shimmering in a dome around the mansion. Five gold columns blazed like the sun, powering the spell. Only our most trusted servants and our family could walk through the shield, anyone else would be rebuffed. Outside, the mob beat at it, shot at it, and hurled whatever objects they could at it. Every impact sent ripples of blue spreading across the shield and dimmed the golden columns by a fraction, reducing the energy sustaining it. Eventually it would fail, and they would pour in like water rushing through a breeched dam.

“The maids are assembled, my Lord,” Pearl stated, standing before the ranks of her girls. They all looked scared.

My sons and daughters, and their children, huddled nearby. Silas had Delilah and Andrea clinging to him, and Marcelo and Calypso hugged their daughter Liza. The sluts stood in a nervous clump, Violet hugging Cindy, Jessica trying to stay calm as Korina trembled in Lillian's arms. Thirty bodyguards were spread out in a circle around us, watching the shield. 51 nodded to me, then gave a worried glance at her husband. Even she was afraid, and she had survived Brandon, the Patriots, and been through the worst of the Demon Wars.

Alison strode out of the mansion. “Master, the mansion's been evacuated, and I've destroyed the computers.”

Anger burned inside me; I would destroy those fucking nuns and monks and spike their heads as a warning to future generations. “Then let's go,” I snarled, and drew a bronze dagger, prepared to cut a hole in the air, creating a Portal to the Shadows.

Light flashed down from the heavens, pure white, blinding, connecting earth and sky for one brief moment, and then it flashed back up. Where the light had fallen on the lawn stood a person

Chase.

I heard Mary gasp, a sharp intake of breath. The bronze dagger tumbled out of my hand. It was Chase, my beautiful daughter, her blue eyes fixed on me, a sad smile on her freckled face. Her auburn hair fell loosely about her shoulders, swaying in the gentle breeze. I drank in the sight of her. Hope, happiness, joy, filled me up.

My beautiful daughter had come home.

I didn't remember crossing the distance between us. One moment I was staring in amazement at her, the next she was just before me. I must have run to cross the distance so fast. I threw my arms around her, crushing her against my chest. She was wonderful, real, alive, beautiful.

I didn't see the ugly dagger clutched in her hand.

The pain was sharp as it sliced into my thigh. “I'm sorry, Daddy,” she whispered.

I stumbled back, the small cut burning with venomous agony. The fire spread through my veins; every beat of my heart spreading the pain. Dizziness swept through me; my legs wobbled. I stared at my daughter in astonishment; her blue eyes were full of sorrow.

“Mark!” my wife shouted as my leg buckled. I collapsed onto my back. The blue sky was above me—a perfect, beautiful sky. I had seen its like once before, so very long ago.

Mary knelt beside me, her crying face above me, an even more beautiful sight. Her hand grasped mine, bringing it up to her face. She gently kissed my knuckles, then red light engulfed me. Pain still burned through me; her healing spell failed. Everything was starting to grow dark; my vision grew fuzzy as the pain burned through my veins, drawing closer and closer to my heart.

This has happened before. And Lilith wasn't going to save me this time.

“Mispachs!” Candy shouted. “Hurry, we need to kill her and spill her blood on him before he dies!”

The dagger of Cain. The only way to save me was for Chase to die. And when I died, my beautiful Mary would, too. I had once condemned the world to darkness to save my wife. I would do anything to protect her, to save her. I thought I could kill anyone to keep my wife alive.

I was wrong.

“No,” I croaked. Mary nodded, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Do not touch our daughter!” my wife commanded with steel in her voice.

“We all die when he does!” Candy objected. “If none of you will kill the bitch, then I'll...”

“You will do nothing!” 51 roared. I could hear a scuffle, a woman screaming in pain. A gun barked, and Sam gave a muffled cry of anguish.

Chase knelt on the other side of me, her blue eyes swimming with tears. “I'm so sorry, Daddy,” she cried. “It had to be done. Your tyranny had to be stopped. I couldn't take the chance that you wouldn't listen.”

I looked from my wife to my daughter as agony pumped through my veins. She was as beautiful as her mother. Chase hesitantly reached out to grasp our hands. They were soft, warm, as we three held each other. I struggled to speak; there was something very important I had to tell my daughter.

“I forgive you.”

Turned out it wasn't hard to do at all.

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Chase Glassner

The life went out of Father's blue eyes.

Mother slumped limply forward across his chest. Around me, my siblings, the sluts, the maids, and the bodyguards all fell dead. I killed them all. Tears ran hot down my cheeks. Hundreds just died from a single knife stroke. Was I as bad as my parents? Were my murders as justified as theirs?

I didn't know.

Hundreds dead so that billions could be free. That math had to add up, right?

Silver glinted on my father's chest. The sun was warm on my face; it was too lovely a day for such tragedy. The silver was a locket, shaped like a heart, a single, pink rose sculpted on the front. It must have spilled out from beneath Mother's armor as she fell forward, landing upon Father. I grabbed and opened the locket; my parents smiled up at me. With shaking hands, I unclasped it from my mother's neck, and draped it around my own.

I realized I wasn't alone. The shield had failed; those that were attacking the compound had gathered in a circle to stare down at the False Gods, the Tyrants—my parents. Around the world, the elements of my parents oppression, those bureaucrats and priests not bound directly to my parents, were being captured or killed. The Theocracy was being erased. Hopefully, a better government would rise from the ashes.

I silently walked away, the crowd parting before me. I could have ridden on the Light, flashing to wherever I wanted to go. Wherever that was. I needed to walk, to think, to wonder why I didn't die with all my family, with my parents. I was bound to them. I shouldn't have lived.

I wasn't supposed to live.

Now I had to live with the question: could I have talked my parents into giving it all up? To free mankind from their bondage? I don't know. I just knew that I couldn't take the risk that they would say no. I had this one opportunity to end it, to liberate the world. I had to take it, and now all I could do was walk, cursed like the shoemaker to wander on and on forever, guilt tearing apart my heart.

Hopefully, the world was worth it.

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Mark Glassner

I was falling, falling, falling.

Into Darkness.

Then Darkness gave way to heat, to fire.

I opened my eyes. Oppressive heat buffeted my body and blood-red rocks crunched at my feet. Anguished wails echoed through the air—the chorus of the damned. I stood on a rocky hill, overlooking a hellish plain and a city of brass. Trees made of twisted bone dotted the plain, growing next to rifts that smoked sulfurous fumes.

Mary appeared at my side. I wrapped my arms around my wife. “Together forever,” she whispered.

A collar bound my neck, made of red, pitted iron, leading off into the distance—my Pact with Lucifer. The iron was weak, pitted; it snapped easily. I had far more power than the Devil ever had. I had stolen the power of every Demon—Lucifer, Lilith, Molech, Dagon, and more—I had slain, the energy split between Mary and myself. Mary reached up and easily snapped her chain, the iron flaking away into rust on the searing wind.

More souls appeared. Chasity and Noel knelt before me, joined by 51, while the bodyguards knelt in ranks behind them. “We've awaited you for a while, Master,” Chasity said, smiling, her blue eyes twinkling with joy.

Karen threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek. Then April, glasses reflecting the hellish landscape, melted against me. And lastly Xiu sauntered up, naked; I pulled her to me by her nipple piercing. “I missed you all,” I told the three of them. “You were never forgotten.”

“Thank you, Master,” Xiu smiled, tears shining in her eyes. “We swore to serve you forever.”

The other sluts joined us: Lillian, Korina, Violet, Jessica, Alison, and Desiree. Korina reunited with Xiu, hugging her enthusiastically. Alison and Desiree gazed into each other's eyes with love. Our families were next: my mom and her wife, Tiffany and Sean, Missy and Damien, Shannon and George, Antsy and Via. Their children and ours. Pearl and her maids, our other servants, the Cunningham twins and their Bishops, and our friends who helped us rule the Theocracy. Around us, reunions happened as those that had passed on before us were reunited with friends, family, and lovers.

The only one missing was Chase. I concentrated, and I could sense my daughter walking away from the mansion, crushed by her guilt. Anger flashed through me—I had failed her. I hadn't been a good enough father to her. I was too concerned with escaping Hell, of making sure that there were no threats that could harm me or my loved ones. Mary and I shackled the entire world out of selfishness. Chase is a better person than I ever was. I hoped one day I could tell her that; then, maybe, we could be a family again.

*We will,* Mary's voice whispered in my mind. *She just needs time. And we have all the time in the universe now.*

“What are your commands, Master?” Violet asked, her arm around Cindy.

“We're ready to kick some ass!” shouted an eager Alison. Somehow, she had conjured a machine gun, red flames flickering across the black metal.

I could see the lesser demons and the shades of the dead hovering at the edges of our group, watching us warily. Beyond them lay the city of brass. Dis. I glanced at my wife, gave her shoulder a squeeze, then looked at our family and followers. For a moment, black chains flashed around all their necks, connecting them to Mary and myself.

I grinned, “Well, I've heard it said that it's better to rule in Hell.”

To be concluded...