Chapter Three (Part One - Before the Banishment)

Belial had stepped through the portal, seconds later he was home.  His entrance back to hell was greeted by the throbbing pounding racous ruckus he was expecting.  Belial was in Hell's constant night club.

He walked up the steps from the portals exit to see Lucifer and Abaddon standing by the railings encircling the dance floor or 'moshpit' as it is called.  A voice screamed 'Get away from me' from the speakers.  The strobes flashed and the many demonic outcasts screamed and convulsed before him.  He was definitely back, and nothing had changed.  He saw Lucifer walk away from Abaddon without any sign of recognising Belial's arrival.

as the stobe lights flashed, the floor rumbled angrily beneath him and the crowd started throwing itself around against each other like a washing machine full of humanoid marbles Belial sidled next to Abaddon and leant on the railings next to him.

Abaddon looked at him without surprise and then looked back at the floor.  He shook his small head and then handed Belial an open bottle of green liquid and continued looking out to the teeming frantic violent frenzy of demons.

Belial had always admired Abaddon, never a great warrior, not a big demon by any stretch of the imagination, nor a tactician by reputation.  But he was clever and, when he chose to be, invisible.  Abaddon held himself with an awkward confidence. Belial had never supposed that he had ever come to terms with his own destiny, and like all of the fallen, he was very afraid of the prophecy and it's hints.  But for all these failings, Belial still admired Abaddon.

He was incredibly clever, a small man, dressed very inconspicuously in black t-shirt and jeans, small tangle of black hair upon his snowy complexion.  A good looking man, always with the appearance of someone with an incredibly complex and emotional thought lying just behind his eyes.

"I wondered if you'd return."  The simplicity of the statement told Belial everything, something had stirred up the hornets nest back here on the homelamd.

The D.J. burbled something incoherently and immediately the brash discordant guitars started up again, red and purple lights flashed and flickered upon the mosh pit and the spasmodic thrashing of bodies began once more.

"I wondered if I would come back Abaddon, I wondered too."  Belila looked into his bottle seeing only the swirl of green intermingled with the dark specturm of colour from the lights above.  

The room started up a growling chorus of "You walk on like a woman in suffering."  Out of synch yet completely together in an ignorant chant of temporary bliss.

"So why did you return?  Are the prophecies coming true?"  There was more than one question behind Abaddons query.

"We all need to meet now.  Are Satan, Lucifer and Beelzebub around, the sooner we get together the better."  Belial still never looked at Abaddon's face.  He didn't want to see the anxiety there.

"Satan is where he always has been, I'll get Beelzebub.  Lucifer is going to tell Satan you have arrived you will find him there.  You do remember the way to the chamber?"  Abaddon's voice gave away a hint of macabre irony.

"When the heart is cold, there's no hope and we know..."  The bodies beneath him screeched.

Belial moved away, he knew the way to the chamber, he dreamt about it's walk every night.  The long claret corridor, the garoyles' stone heads protruding from the walls.  The black marble floor and the door to the chamber.  In his dreams he never entered, he never opened the door.  In his dreams he never had to face himself or his destiny.  There was no conclusion to the dream, he could have just walked away from it if he had so wished, he could have entered and told satan that he thought his 'momma was so fat..." or anything.

"Into the abyss I will run..."  The lights flashed around the floor, revealing the myriad pallid sweating faces beneath him.  He didn't like the look on the faces below him.  There was something false about the good times all these demons were having.  The was an undercurrent of panic in all there eyes.  This was a facade, as the master of lies he knew what he saw.  They were all lying to themselves.  Things were not just a moshpit, things were not ok, things were far from rocking.

He had left Abaddons side and headed for the door, he smelt apprehension in the air.  The few demons he passed that recognised him were registered mild shock, and vague elation at his presence.  There rabid chatter indicated that he was a very important portent of things to come for the demons and for hell itself.

So off to the chamber he woudl go, this time the door would open, and unlike in his dreams, he would not have the choice to turn around, he would have to enter and face this world again.  Little did he know that the next time he entered this chamber would be his last, the next time he entered the chamber after this meeting he would be one of the condemned fallen, a new faction in this war, not yet known, not yet banded, and not yet recognised.  But they were coming, and he was one of them.

Belial would like the name.  The condemned fallen.
The End

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