Armageddon (Angelbound)

With our whips tightly in place, Lincoln and I yank on the lines with all our strength. The motion sends Armageddon tumbling down the steps, his body landing in a heap by my feet. Quick as lightning, I change my baculum into a short-sword. Lincoln speeds to my side, his weapon now in the same form.

Armageddon twitches on the floor, his beady eyes glaring at our combined blades. Memories of Verus’s prophecy run through my mind.

“Should we wait for Nefer?” I ask. “Maybe tie him up?”

“Yes,” hisses Armageddon. “You should wait.”

“No way,” snaps Lincoln. “We can’t pass this up. Verus can see another future.”

Armageddon blinks at me innocently. “Mercy, Great Scala.”

His words send white-hot rage pumping through my bloodstream. My eyes glow red with wrath. “Mercy? Like you showed my father and Maxon?” I look to Lincoln. “Let’s do this.”

Moving in a single motion, we plunge our swords into Armageddon’s chest. I feel the tug of the blade as it slices into his flesh.

That’s for Maxon, asshole.

On the floor before me, Armageddon screeches with pain, molten fire churning under his skin. Excitement whirls through my bloodstream.

We’re doing it. We’re actually killing Armageddon!

Like the bodies of so many of his own victims, Armageddon starts to burn and fade, turning into ash. For a moment, his form holds it’s Armageddon-like shape, and then it crumbles into a pile of dust.

Aldred claps from his cowering-spot by the wall. “Well done, my King! Bravely fought, my Queen! You killed Armageddon.” Adair stares at us, an odd look on her face. Not elation like her Father, but something else. Scheming, maybe?

“Shut up and stand by the wall,” orders Lincoln.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

I stagger back a few steps. “That was too easy.”

“Agreed.”

“And where is everybody still?” I scan the throne room. “Two guards and a couple of ghosts? It’s so strange.”

Lincoln shakes his head. “Whatever it is, we’re taking it and getting out of here.”

A new object appears in the center of Armageddon’s ash-pile, commanding our attention. It’s a simple black helmet, the Helm of Hell. Whoever puts this on will become a greater demon and the ruler of the underworld.

On instinct, I look around for Nefer. This is her part of the plan. She was supposed to kill Armageddon, put on the Helm of Hell and become its Queen. I don’t want to touch that thing without her. Besides, freeing Maxon would be a lot easier with the Queen of Hell adding her powers into the mix.

But the room remains silent and empty. There’s no chattering of Kiya. Nefer doesn’t appear.

“Where is she?” I ask. There’s no need to explain who ‘she’ is.

“We’re not waiting to find out.” Lincoln starts scaling the stairs to Armageddon’s old throne, taking two steps at a time. “Let’s get Maxon and go.”

Adair and Aldred still stand by the wall. Aldred beams with glee. Adair looks as if the wheels of her ghostly brain are churning overtime. I can’t bother with them now, or Nefer, for that matter. Lincoln’s right. Our primary concern is freeing Maxon and going home.

Lincoln and I rush up to the metal box that holds our son. Up close, I can see it’s a simple metal cube, just like the one Armageddon held Dad in for so many years. A sickly feeling creeps up my throat. My son is in here.

A quiet whimpering sounds from inside the container. “Mommy, Daddy, is that you?” Maxon’s little voice quavers with fear. “It’s dark in here. I don’t like the dark.”

My little one’s words send alarm coursing through me. I set my mouth close to the metal. “We’re here, baby.” My voice breaks with emotion.

We came to rescue you. We made it.

I brush my fingers lovingly across the metal top. “Now, Mommy and Daddy will get you out, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Check the seams for weaknesses,” says Lincoln. We quickly run our eyes and fingertips around opposite sides of the metal box. The prison is new and lacks any obvious way to open it.

I gently tap the left wall of the box. “Stay over here, sweetie. Mommy will to cut you out of there.” I hear shuffling inside the metal container.

Maxon speaks through sobs. “Okay, Mommy. I moved.”

“That’s right, baby.” I ignite my baculum as a dagger and plunge it into the top metal panel. The angelfire barely ignites near the metal. “Baculum aren’t going to work.”

“I’ll check the treasure chests,” says Lincoln. “Maybe there is something in there that can help us.”

“Look for Dad’s old baculum. He said it might be around here. The original archangel ones can cut through anything.”

Maxon’s quiet cries fill the air. My heart cracks with worry and grief. I crouch down beside the box, speaking in a soothing voice. “Mommy and Daddy are both here, baby. Listen to me. It won’t take us long. We’ll get you out.”

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