The Chronicles of Logan DeRais: The Book of the Prophecy

He was right. After I recognized him, I should have left. I should have gone to find my death somewhere else. I don’t know why I stayed. Maybe I had hoped that he would forgive me. Maybe I had started liking him again. But no. He didn’t want me. I finally open my heart back up to him, and he shot me down. It wasn’t like I didn’t deserve it, though. My cheek still stung where he had backhanded me, and my blood was dripping out of it, staining the ground. I didn’t know what to do...as soon as I saw Logan; something inside me decided that I wanted him back. He was just so amazing. So beautiful. So wonderful.

"Stop it!" I yelled at myself, pounding my fist into the ground. The sooty rock broke the skin on my knuckles, and blood dripped onto the ground. "Stop," I repeated to myself, "You’re better than this. You don’t need him. All he is is shit! He's worthless! He hates you, and you should hate him too. Get up. Get up, now. Don’t let him beat you. Don’t let him win. Get up, Zoane,"

After this sad excuse for a pep talk for myself, to myself, I decided to agree with myself, and pushed my body up and got to my feet. My strength had all but left me. My arms dangled uselessly at my sides, with blood still dripping from the knuckles. I walked with a limp, and my head bobbed up and down as I went. I looked around slowly, and spied a cave nearby. I could stay there until I figured out what else to do. I entered the cave. It was dark. Pitch black. No light at all. I didn’t care. Right now, all I really wanted was to curl up in a little ball in the corner and never come out. I kept walking and walking and walking. My head swiveled around frequently, searching for any sign of light or life, but there was nothing. I sat down after an hour of pointless walking, too tired to keep moving. I found one of the walls of the cave, put my back up against it, brought my knees up and locked my arms around them. Then I put my chin on my chest. I was about to close my eyes, hopefully forever, when the cavern suddenly lit up. In the center of it floated two, large, glowing eyes, from which the light issued. They focused on me, and I stayed where I was, uncaring. If whatever it was desired to kill me, well, it would just spare me the trouble. Everything I told myself about how Logan didn’t matter wasn’t true. What was true was that I didn’t matter. No one cared about me. I was worthless and pathetic. Suddenly, I heard a voice in my head, coming out of nowhere.

"My child...my child...do not weep. Please...don't think thoughts like that. My beautiful Zoane, come to me. Come to me, and I can help you,"

"Who are you?" I asked through newfound tears.

"That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are alive. Please, my child, you must come to the city of Hell, immediately. DO not fear for your life: No daemon in hell will harm you now. Come to me,"

"Wait!" I started to shout, but the eyes had gone. I supposed that I would have to go to the city of hell now...if the voice was truthful, I wouldn’t be hurt by anything. That was preferable to sitting in this damp dark ugly cave forever. I got to my feet painfully after that inadequate period of rest, still limping. I retraced my steps, back to the entrance of the cave. As I neared the opening, light shone inside, and momentarily blinded me. I put my hands over my eyes, and pushed on forwards, past the vexing light. My vision cleared, and I looked out on the Plains of Hell. What I saw nearly made my heart stop beating. The entire wasteland, as far as I could see, was teeming with daemons and devils. There were little imps, enormous hulks, flying dragon creatures, vampires, succubi, malcubi, and every other monster that could be imagined. They were all quibbling among one another, arguing about something. The atmosphere, which had once been silent, now shattered everything with deafening noise. The eyes had tricked me…and I was about to die. I knew it, and I didn’t really care. The eyes had probably belonged to Logan. He wanted to kill me back there, but he didn’t have the guts. SO he decided to use his daemons to do his dirty work. Why did I listen to the eyes? Whey did I think I could trust them? It was all just so stupid…

Suddenly, a shrill cry rang out. One of the daemons had spotted me. Eyes raised, heads turned, and fingers pointed. All at me. Then, something happened that I didn’t expect. In fact, it left me utterly stupefied. My mouth gaped open, my jaw probably stretching down to the ground. The daemons had stood straight up, forming neat ranks. Then, they sidestepped out of the way until a path through them had been created. Then, the all descended to one knee, put their heads down, and bowed! Bowed! To me! Forgetting my amazement for a moment, I hesitantly picked my way down to the level floor of Hell. One of the draconic daemons touched down on the ground, and faced me. I looked at it, not knowing what to expect. It dropped to its knees, and pounded its fists into the ground, shaking me on my feet, and bowed its head. To me. Then, it raised its head, and kissed my hand, its snakelike tongue tickling my skin.

“My lady,” It spoke in a rough, raspy voice, “If you would, I am here to escort you to the Mourning Star. The great Lucifer politely requests an audience with you. Something very important has come to his attention, and time is of the essence. Please, climb upon my back,”

I had never heard a daemon speak before, and was taken aback. More than that, I was shocked. Lucifer wanted to talk to me? This could either be very, very good, or very very very bad. So what? It wasn’t like I really had anything else to do.

“Take me there,” I replied to the daemon. He motioned for me to climb upon his back, and I did. He pushed off the ground with amazing grace, and we flew up, and up, and up until we were right under the Llethle clouds. Lucifer’s Mourning Star was drawing closer.

Satan broke his contact with the girl. The distance upon which he had been hypnotizing her had left a damp pallor of sweat on his forehead.

“I must be getting old…” he thought, “This is my dominion. I should be able to go as far as I want without a problem,”

At least he had set the girl in motion. He hadn’t managed to kill The Chosen One yet, and fulfill that part of the prophecy, but once he had the human known as Zoane in his clutches, the Anti-Christ would be his. The Fallen had done his part; he had sent Zoane away. Even better, he had beaten her, spit on her, and cursed her. He might have made a good apprentice, if his death wasn’t a pre-requisite for the continuation of Satan’s reign. Soon, Zoane would be his. The Anti-Christ would be born. All would fall to him, and in turn, to himself, Lucifer. God would be destroyed. He was too dangerous. He would string up Jesus the Christ on a cross of fire, with nails made from titanium and a crown of thorns from a Llethle plant, the poisonous brambles that grew by the river Llethle, forever. Then, he would unravel the fabric of the universe, and unmake the known world. Hell, Heaven, Purgatory, the mortal land, and the world of twilight would fall to him, and it would all become Hell. All of the damned souls would go to the ninth circle of Hell, to endure unending torture, with no hope of release or pause in their pain. All of it would be his, forever and always. He had sent his most faithful daemon forward with the task of bringing her back unharmed, and even now he could see its progress. Zoane was on its back, a blank expression on her face, with her arms wrapped tightly around its neck. Once she was here, it would only be a matter of time. Two years and one day, to be more precise. After he impregnated the girl, they would wait a year for it to be born. Unlike normal children, the Anti-Christ would not come out of its mother at the end of the general nine-month period. It would stay inside her, past the normal time. For an extra three months, it would grow and mature, until the day came when it had been exactly one year since it had been conceived. He would awaken as a sentient being, fully in control. It would claw its way out of the mother’s womb, ripping through her body, drenching itself in her blood. Then, while she was still alive, it would devour her, feasting upon her body, mind, and soul. It would hone its abilities and powers for one year after that, and when the second year had passed, it would be ready. They would launch an assault on all the holy Mansions of Heaven, and the Almighty One Himself would fall. He would be cast down and forgotten. The Christ would be imprisoned. The ArchAngels, Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Suryal, Uriel, Phanuel, Raguel, and Sarakiel would be slaughtered. The world would fall to him.

Logan DeRais

“Logan. Logan!”

Someone’s hand slapped my face.

“Wake up you dipshit!”

I groaned, not wanting to open my eyes. My entire body ached from my impact with the floor of Hell. What had happened? The last thing I remembered was blasting out of the illusion cast upon me by someone…

“Logan! Come on, you asshole, wake up!”

I felt lips on mine. It was Christina. I was too baked to recognize her voice, but her taste was quite another thing. My hands wandered up and down her body, and my arms snaked around her stomach. I pulled her closer, and kissed her back. I opened my eyes, to see her beautiful face, and inch away from mine. Then, she slapped me again.

“Hey! I’m awake!” I shouted, my face stinging.

“You idiot! Why would you do that?!”

I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Then, it all came rushing back to me…what I had done to Zoane, and what had happened afterward. I wasn’t quite sure if she was talking about Zoane, or my flying through the Llethle clouds, but I decided against asking. Obviously she thought it was obvious, and at the proximity that her head was to mine, she probably would have bitten my head off, literally. Luckily enough, she told me.

“Why the hell would you do that? Purposefully fly off into the fucking Llethle clouds! What were you thinking? You are TOO IMPORTANT to me, and to us, to do something like that. DAMNIT LOGAN, WE NEED YOU. I need you. I love you,”

She lapsed into silence. I got to my feet, and held her close to me, with her head on my chest. I kissed the top of her head.

“I love you too,”

“Don’t change the subject,” she protested, poking a sharp nail into my stomach.

“Ow!” I yelled, faking pain.

“Very nice,” she said, “Now tell me. Why would you do such a thing?”

I shrugged, “I didn’t want the memory of doing it. When I did that to Zoane, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t in control of myself. I don’t know what happened. But I never should have done that, and I never would have. I’m ashamed of myself. I just lost my temper…I always have given my anger too much control over me. I hate it,”

Apparently, she wasn’t mad enough to argue, because she just nuzzled her head against my chest some more, and said softly,”Just don’t do it again, alright?”

I kissed her hair some more, seeing as that was the only thing available.

“I promise,” I whispered into her amazing hair.

Then, a thought occurred to me, “Where are the others?”

“Up there,” she pointed up. I followed her finger up, and up, and up. We were in a really big crater…at least half a mile deep. I could see Vic pacing up above, and Aódfïn, floating, legs crossed, meditating.

“How the hell did you get down here?” I asked her, “Even for a daemon, the fall would have hurt you badly,”

“Don’t you remember anything from up there? What happened? How you got down without losing your memories again?” she pushed, expectantly.

“Yeah…I do…something h it me…something with black wings, and…brown hair,” I stopped, wrapping a strand of Christina’s brown hair around my finger. She smiled.

“No…” I said, unbelieving.

“Yes,” she countered, then stepped back. A second passed, then grand, beautiful, black wings exploded from her back. She smiled shyly at me. I just stared at her, disbelieving still.

“How?” I finally managed to gasp.

“I don’t know,” she replied, “I guess when I blooded Zoane, she took enough of my vampiric blood to let my angelic cells take over my body, but I really don’t know,”

I was amazed…Christina was like me! It was so awesome…I reached up, and took her face gently in my hands. I bent down to kiss her. Before I could make contact, however, she reached up and put her fingers to my lips to stop me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her, surprised.

“Before we go any further…Logan, I have to tell you something. I wanted to hide this forever, but I suppose it was inevitable that it came out. Logan…please don’t judge me by what I am. I can’t control it. I still love you, and I hope you’ll still love me after I tell you this thing,”

“I’ll always love you,” I replied, taking her hands in mine, “Just tell me,”

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath, “You see…my father-“

“Logan! Crepescula! Get your asses up here! You need to see this right now!” we heard Vic shot from up above. I looked down at Christina, “Later,” I promised, then kissed her, and forced my wings open and out of their hiding places. I took to the air, and heard the whoosh of air as Christina did the same. I flew as fast as I could, pumping my wings furiously. We reached the top in an amazingly fast span of time, and when we saw what was above my heart nearly stopped. Lying on the ground, five feet away from Vic, in a pool of silver illiaster, was another Fallen Angel.

I touched down, quick as a flash, and bolted down next to the angel. He was really bad shape. He was bald, with large, black gashes oozing illiaster all over his body, including on his wrists, thighs, face, back, chest, and on his head. He had broken shackles on his arms and legs. However, the worst part of all was his wings. It shocked me, and I had to look away for a moment. His wings had been completely destroyed. All that was left were two deep, ugly scars across his back.

“He fell from up there,” said Vic, pointing up to Lucifer’s Mourning Star, “I’m amazed he’s still alive, after all he’s obviously been through. Then the fall…Logan, before he passed out, he asked for you. Said your name. How do you think he knew it?”

“I don’t know…” I said, “I’ve never seen…” I trailed off, staring at him. He had rolled over, and now I could see his face. Something about it stirred recognition inside of me. He looked like someone I had used to know, but much older…the hair, the freckles, the eyes, his face...he looked like someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He stirred.

“...Logan…”

I knelt down next to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder, making sure not to touch his wounds.

“I’m here,” I told him, still with no idea who he was.

“How do you know who I am?” I asked him, I don’t even know who you are,”

“Yes, you do…” he said in a weak, quiet whisper. His wounds had stopped bleeding. “Think…look at me,”

I looked at him obediently.

“I don’t-“ I started to say, then stopped in shock.

“TONY?” I yelled incredulously.

He chuckled, then winced in pain, coughing up more illiaster, “Not quite,”

“What do you mean?!” I demanded of him. I was a little scared. I knew that he was Tony, my baby brother, but why was he here? What did he do that was noteworthy of being in Hell? He was only seven years old!

“I know that you’re Tony. I can see it. You’re my brother! I know my own brother,”

“No,” He continued to deny, “I am not Tony,”

“Well then,” I said, beginning to lose patience, “Who the hell are you?”

He smiled sadly, and then grimaced. As he tried to stand up, Vic caught him and helped him to his feet. I waited with renewed patience as he got to his feet with Vic’s help, and wiped the illiaster off of his broken body. He was healing immensely fast, with no apparent cause for it. Intriguing. I could actually see his bones inside his body, knitting themselves back together, and his skin pulling its self back into a whole. When he had finished cleaning himself off, he looked up at us. We were all waiting expectantly to hear what he had to say.

“Look more carefully,” he said to me, “You know who I am. You just have to look inside yourself to figure it out. Search your feelings,”

“Oh! I know it!” I yelled excitedly, “No, don’t tell me…you’re Darth Vader, right?” I broke up laughing. The rest of my friends looked at me like I had just proposed we take a dip in the lava of Hell.

“Sorry, I just had to say that…” I muttered, “Okay. Concentrating time now,”

I looked at him carefully, surveying every inch of his body. I wasn’t sure what he was alluding too, but I didn’t see it. I walked behind him to survey his back, and the scars that were the only memory of his wings. Then it hit me. Like a HellCannon fired straight at my heart, it hit me. My eyes shot to his elbow. There was nothing there. Tony had a black birthmark there, where his twin brother rubbed up against him while they were in my mother’s stomach. But if this wasn’t Tony, then who…

“Now you see it,” said the angel.

“No,” I said, dumbstruck, “It can’t be,”

“It is,” he said.

“You mean…”

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?” Christina asked in a loud, obnoxious voice.