Saint Michael’s feet made little noise has he strode through the foyer and through the open double doors leading into the throne room of the palace. As massive and impressive as the palace was Michael never liked being there. It was dark and always too quiet, but not the relaxing type of quite, it was a deathly, ominous quiet. Two guards were posted at the entrance to the room that he had just entered through, but there was no way of telling them apart from armored statues; they did not move and did not speak. Even the movement from their light breaths were impervious to the most thorough inspections.
In the center of the main room hung a large chandelier, but it gave out little light; instead it only sent waving shadows sprawling across the flagstone floor and brownish red brick walls, adding to the eeriness of the room. A red rug with black designs of indistinguishable shapes ran the full length of the room from the entrance to the right in front of the empty metal throne. The throne was a clash of shriveled beings clawing their way up as if attempting to get away from some terrible beast beneath them. The combined heads and arms somehow managed to twist themselves into some resemblance of a chair.
Michael’s lip curled in disgust at the grotesque piece of furniture. As much as he loved the queen who called this palace home he still couldn’t get used to her taste for decoration, or rather, lack of taste. A hint of a smile touched his lips at the thought. Michael scanned his light green eyes over the large, open room in hopes to see his lover, but she was not there. He took a seat on a nearby bench to wait for her to return from wherever she was. The seat was uncomfortable, but at least looked relatively normal with its rough, un-sanded wood planks.
The Arch Angel was not surprised that the demonic queen was not there as he had not announced his visit as he normally did. Usually the two planned their visits so as to avoid being caught together, but lately Michael had been worried about her. Ever since the loss of their unborn child a little over a year ago she had been growing distant. He hoped that today’s surprise visit might cheer her up and restore some of the connection they once had.
It seemed so long ago when he had first met Helimoni, his lover, at one of the many meetings the high ranking members of the realms of Heaven and Hell often held to ensure the continuation of peace between the two empires. Since that day he and his demonic mistress had visited on many occasions, but always in secret as infatuations between a demon and an angel had been deemed a capital offense between both realms. In most cases travel was restricted between the two paranormal realms, but Michael’s position as General of Heaven’s armies and Helimoni’s title as Queen of the Citadel, Hell’s prison level, gave them many unrestricted freedoms.
Many months into the discreet relationship, Helimoni broke the news that she was with child. At first Michael had been terrified by the news as he was unsure how they would keep their relationship hidden any longer, but as the child grew in Helimoni’s womb he found that he looked forward to the day the child would be born. Sadly, that day never came. Eight months into the pregnancy she lost the child. The loss hadn’t surprised Michael, as no one knew what would happen of a child conceived between and Disciple of Hell and a Citizen of Heaven. Still, he was saddened by the tragic loss and while he wanted to turn to his lover for comfort she had done the opposite, choosing instead to live mostly in solitude to ease the emotional pain.
The creak of rusted hinges broke Michael from his reminiscing thoughts. He stood and looked to the side door that had just opened and watched as Helimoni walked through it. She was looking down at something in her arms, but was tall even with her head bent; at least six feet in height. On her hairless head, a trait of all demons, she wore and iron crown with a single red gemstone set in the center. She wore a plain looking dark red dress that flowed down to her feet, but was short enough that it did not touch the ground as she walked. A golden bracelet in the shape of a leafy vine wrapped around the upper part of her right forearm.
She moved with long elegant strides to her horrific throne, her head still bowed, intently studying whatever it was that she carried. Michael stood still for several moments, having not been noticed by the demoness, and marveled at her beauty. He approached the throne with care not to startle his lover, stopping a few yards away.
“My love,” he said in almost a whisper.
Her head jerked up abruptly. The expression written on her face was one of surprise, but not delightful surprise. She looked like a criminal that had been caught breaking the law, but her dark blue eyes went beyond that to show a mix of depravity and self-satisfaction. A cold shiver ran through Michael’s body, this was not the women he loved. Those were the eyes of some immoral creature, not his infatuate.
He looked down into her arms and understood. “So that’s all I was to you, a tool?” His voice quivered, somewhere between hatred and tears.
Helimoni stood and placed the bundle of blankets in her arms onto the throne. Through the folds of the cloth poked the soft face of a baby, perhaps just shy of a year old. “No honey,” she said with mock sympathy, “you weren’t just a tool for me to use. You were also a fool who trusted me.” Her mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.
“Give me the child and I will forget your treachery,” replied Michael firmly, just holding back tears. Even as he spoke the words the angelic General pushed past Helimoni to grab the child, but the Queen of the Citadel would not allow it.
As the angel pushed past, Helimoni retrieved the finely tapered blade from inside her long, red sleeve. With only the thought of her own power to gain in mind, she slipped the point of the long blade between Michael’s ribs. Warm blood oozed over her hand, bringing back the demon’s sardonic smile. She would not let anyone take her child. There was no way of knowing just how powerful and angel-demon hybrid could be, but having him under her control when he was fully grown would allow her to advance in power and perhaps conquer the other layers of Hell.
Helimoni watched in confusion as a white arura surrounded her. She stepped back, leaving the angel to fall to his knees. Michael pushed, sending the white arura with its encased victim soaring into the air. The demoness shrieked in agony as she crashed into the chandelier, the hot wax and open flames blistering her gray skin.
The two demons standing guard ran forward to stop the angel, but they were too slow. With the last of his strength Michael scooped up the child and using a rare ability, granted only by God himself, opened a portal that crackled with pale yellow and white energy, and tossed the child into it. Michael dropped to one knee as the portal burnt itself out and collapsed.
He knew he would die, but he also knew the child, his son, was safe. Helimoni may have fooled him, but he was not unwise. The dying General knew his death would appear an assassination and break the truce between the Fortress of Hell and the Kingdom of Heaven. War would follow and it would be relentless, as all their wars were. He knew that Earth would be the last place for the war to reach, if it even made it that far. He knew by sending the child there it would give him time to grow to the age that he could defend himself. He was right.