My name is Lilith.
If you haven’t heard of me that’s probably because I wasn’t “blessed” enough to be given a place in the Bible. Let me refresh your memory I may become a little more familiar, so familiar in fact you may drop what your reading and cry “Oh Yeah!.” If not, try Wikipedia, lots about me on there. Read on, I’m sure you’ll see that I was documented in History yet never recognised.
I’m the first woman. Forget that insipid Eve broken off from the sack of entrails that is Man. I, dear reader, am the only the woman alive, the only woman that ever will be that is made equal to man. I am in simple terms the Chauvinists worst nightmare, feminists mass together! Burn bras! March a rally and exult that such a woman exists and will continue through existence mocking humanity, mocking God and the heavens that I should exist at all.
You’ve heard of me, don’t shake your head lest you rattle away a memory for I am right here: Harlot, Whore of Babylon, Tortuous serpent, Lilith the sinful, Storm Demon, Night Demon, Spirit of the Night and quoted by a few unsavoury characters: Satan’s Bitch.
Each nick name undeserved I might add, all I have ever done is live and continue to live. Oh and just to set the record straight, I have never preyed upon children, mortals always blamed cot death upon me, they should look toward the night terrors who draw upon the fear of innocents, shameless bottom feeders of Hell.
I have always found that people, scribes, scholars, governments need some embodiment to blame evil upon, never realising evil is a balance, without it good would cease to exist.
I’ve always known what I am, I embrace it, loved it and been loved by it. I am other, evil, night and dark, why fight it?
Also unlike most Otherkin, I am earthbound yet powerful enough to travel to three of the seven realms trust me, it’s a big deal. I’m living at the moment in a large castle, Chillingham, managed by a colleague of mine, Sandoz a lower level demon trapped on Earth, I rent this room with the promise to help him find a magic or power that will help him re enter the realms, In return I am free to come and go when I wish so long as I continue to search for a spell which will whisk him back to his fiery home.
I have of course lied and have no intention of helping him and he, after six months, has not noticed that the helpful spells I have given him are prayers and hymns taken from a Cabbala website. More fool him.
So as Dante and I traipse through the lobby bypassing a small cluster of tourists and wander into the courtyard, I spy him talking to the current owner, an old Earl who smiles as he sees me approaching, I’m like sugar to him, always sweet and he doesn’t begrudge me crashing in one of the castles rooms. Sandoz eyes me through narrowed slit, his black eyes glittering under heavy lids and his hair as always slicked back tightly to his skull. I smile at the Earl as I stuff more prayers into Sandoz’s outstretched hand before turning on my heel and striding through the bitter Northumberland cold toward the tower door.
As I climb the steps I feel sick, dizzy...funny, I drag an unusually quiet Dante up the stairs which are lined fancily in Persian carpeting, and down the stone gothic corridor decked in heavy mahogany doors we walk to the last door on the left. “DO NOT ENTER” is printed on a large plaque above the door which helps to keep the nosey tourists from my apartment; I fish keys out of my pocket whilst listening to Dante dance from foot to foot and open the door. I politely stand back to let Dante enter first before following him in and closing the door. I lean back against it and put a hand to my warm forehead, I let it slip so it covers my face and heave a sigh trying to hold everything back before giving in and breaking down into tears. Sammael, free?
“That’s a little too mortal for me Lil” Dante says softly, warily. I look past my hand to see him nervously eyeing me cautiously from the chaise lounge; I didn’t know what to say so I shake my head and give a meaty sniff.
He was right of course, I was acting shamefully mortal, crying and going about it like some pathetic human child, but then again this was monumental, one thousand years of wondering at an end, one thousand years of hoping, begging, pleading are now finished. All that was left was anger.
I stormed through the room, coming to a stop in the dead centre beneath a large crystal chandelier, I stand, feet apart, hands raised, palms up.
“What are you doing?” Dante cries jumping over the back of the chaise lounge and running, almost stumbling across the room to stand agitatedly in front of me.
“I’m calling Sanvii” I reply matter of fact letting power warm through my blood.
“Are you out of your mind?” he yelps, his glamour flickers before he pauses, his body stills and his breathing almost stops.
“I see...” I muse, noting his behaviour “You don’t want him to know?”
Dante reddens and once again his glamour flickers and I am given a full seconds glimpse of...something, my mind pushes it aside and I let my eyes flicker down until he composes himself.
“If he knows I told you he’ll lock me up in the lowest realms with the Terrors”
The lower realms are not where we reside, they are a name for the very bottom of the realms, the only place any self respecting Otherkin fears and loathes going. I glimpsed the place once a long time ago and it turned my blue eyes jade green.
“I won’t be telling him it was you” I reply, letting my gaze rise to his face once more, my heart picked up a beat and began hammering more and more power into my blood and through my body. Dante walks quickly forward placing his hands on my forearms, I feel my power jump and fizzle along my skin and Dante whips his hands away and stares down at them as though checking they were still there. The lights dim a little and hum as I let the power flow quicker, faster and stronger.
“Lilith please!” He implores his glamour slips once more and his eyes widen in fear, I look away from him quickly, not wanting to see too much. “Please! He’ll know! He’ll know it was me!”
I don’t care, I really don’t, I want answers and I don’t care who I have to kill or get killed to get them.
“So leave!” I tell him coldly, I expect him to argue, beg or plead with me with me but he doesn’t, he merely shimmers away, I feel him leave.
The power feels like a roaring pride of lions in my blood, fighting and clashing inside of me wanting release, my aura expands, it feels like being caught in an electrical storm, the smell of it on the air, the metallic taste as it rises longing for direction. At that moment, the moment I think I’m going to burst with it, the moment I worry my entrails are going to ruin my decor I let it go calling “Sanvii” and willing it toward him, inviting him. The power leaves me like a stampede, leaving shockwave after shockwave in its wake, the chandelier trembles, the lights flicker, the furniture rumbles about slightly and then nothing. There’s nothing to do now except wait.