The Devil’s Pact Chapter 51: The Morning Star



The Devil’s Pact

Chapter 51: The Morning Star

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014

Story Codes: Violence

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

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Click here for Chapter 50.

And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood.

–Revelations 6:12-13

Tuesday, August 24th, 1995 – Lucifer – The Abyss

I stared at Mark Glassner’s string, following his unremarkable life into the future. He was the one. I could feel it. He was lonely, desperate, and just selfish enough to be my pawn. If I made a little nudge here on May 30th, 2013, whispering into his dream, it would send his path to the library, and there he would find a book that contained one of my many summoning spells.

I watched my projection of the future change. Mark’s string turned red; he would make his Pact a week after obsessing over the book. Strings rapidly started to rearrange after that date. I examined the probable changes. He meets his soulmate three weeks earlier, and, to my surprise, she makes her own Pact. How very interesting. Then a priestess’s string touches Mark and his soulmate, exorcising them. Vexing. Gabriel’s priestesses were ever a thorn in my side. But they were losing the war; decade after decade more and more died without passing on their Gift. I pondered how I could influence the world to protect Mark from Sister Louise.

It came to me in a flash of brilliance: Lilith was the solution. I needed her freed—she was the final key to the prison, and Mark needed protection.

I made a few more adjustments, adding Lilith to the my prediction, and examined the result. It looked very promising. I worked for days, weeks, or just minutes—time had no meaning in the Abyss—playing with probabilities until I had the future I needed. Mark would become the Antichrist, leading the world astray, and Lilith would be freed to be killed by Mark. The prison would be open.

I would be free.

Only one thing troubled me. Mary’s string will one day intersect with the Mother Superior in Rennes-le-Château, France. Troubling. The Motherhouse possessed a Matmown. I could not predict how Mary would react, or what knowledge she might learn, from that moment on. It made everything that came after uncertain. And if Mark learned how to construct his own Matmown, then things would only grow more uncertain.

I would need a spy.

The strings showed Mark would gather an increasingly large harem of women, all bound to him by the Zimmah ritual. It would be very tricky to insert a spy into his ranks; I would have to armor her against his powers. I would need a child. Someone that can be molded by the right soul, and guided right into his path. I searched and searched, but none of the women that intersected Mark’s life worked. Possession was always difficult to achieve under the best of circumstances. I kept moving farther back, patiently exploring scenario after scenario.

After a century or an hour of searching, I found her. An unborn fetus growing like a parasite in Serena Hertz’s womb. The mother was dying, and neither she nor the child would survive. I entered her dream, and nudged her. I knew just the summoning for her to use. I waited for her to wake, for the seed I planted in her mind to sprout and bear me fruit.

“Please,” I heard her pray across the Veil. “I am desperate. Send to me an Angel of Light.”

The Veil parted, and I manifested in my true form before the sickly woman, blazing like a glorious star—the most beautiful and majestic being in all creation. Far more worthy of ruling the Earth than the disgusting sacks of flesh that crawled about on it like lice in the mange of a dog.


Friday, October 13th, 1995 – Jezebel – The Abyss

The dogs tore at my body.

The mangy hounds always feasted upon me. My flesh eternally regenerated; my punishment for worshiping Asherah and seducing an entire kingdom into apostasy. Thousands of years of unceasing torment while my Goddess watched over me with delight. My punishment was simple—I experienced my death played out over and over—the fall from the window and the pack of dogs that tore at my flesh. Sometimes she would take the dogs away, let me think my torment was over, bathe my wounds, and bring me to dine at her table—and then I would hear their awful baying.

Until the day Lucifer came for me, driving the dogs away with his flail of light; his hand was soft as silk as he caressed my face. His face had been handsome, trusting—there was love in his eyes. I had almost forgotten about such gentle emotions.

“You belong to me, Jezebel” he had whispered. “You’ll never be tormented again.”

I shouldn’t have believed him, not with all the tricks my Goddess had played on me over the eons—but I wanted to. I let hope blossom in me as he helped me to my feet. Around us, the dogs circled warily, staying just out of the nimbus of Lucifer’s light.

“Why?” I finally asked, his light washing away the pain.

“Because I love you.” My heart beat faster. I kept trying to remind myself that he was a demon, not to be trusted. But my heart had ever lusted after power, and no being was more powerful in the Abyss than the Morning Star. “I have a task for you. If you succeed, you shall be my queen, and rule not only the Abyss, but all of Creation at my side.”

“What task?” I asked.

“Watch, guide, wait,” he said, touching my forehead.

And then I was born, a shadow hidden in the mind of an infant—Alison. Lucifer had made a deal with the mother in the guise of an angel. Her body had been dying and would not have lived long enough to give birth to her daughter, so she made a deal with Lucifer. He saved the unborn daughter’s life, and the mother foolishly pledged Alison’s service to Lucifer thinking he was an angel sent by the Creator. The mother died during childbirth and, thanks to her pledge, the child was open to my possession.

The early years were almost a new kind of torment. All Alison could do was cry, eat, and shit, and I was trapped in her body, helpless. But she grew, and I was able to experience this new, modern world from the curious eyes of a child; forever trapped in a corner of her mind, a prisoner that could only watch and guide and wait. For now.

As she grew older, I would amuse myself with whispered suggestions to Alison. “Why don’t you steal Lisa’s cookie, no-one is watching.” Then I would delight as she pouted in the corner when she was caught. I became her own personal devil, whispering in her ear just like the ones in the cartoons Alison loved to watch. Only there wasn’t an angel whispering advice to counter mine.

As she aged, I found new experiences to guide her towards. Her body began to change, breasts budding, hips widening, and new desires awakening between her legs. I guided her choice of clothing, steering her towards more and more revealing outfits; I suggested how to wear her make-up, to appear older and wanton. I pointed out the older boys, and put depraved fantasies in her head about what she could do with them.

She was fourteen when she lost her virginity in the back of High School Senior’s car. My whispers had made her so horny she was begging to be fucked, and she came as his cock shoved roughly into her cunt and pierced her maidenhead. The Senior told all his friends about the Freshman slut that put out on the first date, and she was passed around amongst them—used and discarded.

“That’s what men want you for,” I whispered to her as she cried into her bed when she learned the Senior boy didn’t love her. “You’re a slut! A wanton, dirty girl that needs a hard cock in her. Embrace it; you’ll be happier.”

Alison threw herself into her new lifestyle like a fisherman casting his net into the sea, sweeping up new experiences. She immersed herself in all the filth she could. I laughed as she had ‘Cum on in’ tattooed above her cunt, then let the tattoo artist cum in her a lot. To get her nipples pierced, she sucked her first pussy, and found out just how much she loved the taste. She’d fuck anyone. She was a slut; ready to be dominated by the first man with balls that came along.

Just like Lucifer wanted.

“You ever wanted to be a sex slave?” Mark Glassner had asked Alison as he fucked the Hot Topic salesgirl, his cock dirty from fucking Alison’s ass.

This was Alison’s dream come true. She had cum so hard when he had fucked her ass, and I had conditioned the girl to crave more depravity. “Oh, yes,” she had panted. “I love it when a guy takes charge.”

All my whispers, all the tedium I had endured, had finally paid off; I maneuvered the little slut right into the clutches of Mark Glassner. And now it was time to watch, to report on Mark to Lucifer in Alison’s dreams. All of Mark’s secrets, all of their plotting in the Matmown, revealed to my bridegroom.

And after nineteen years stuck in this insipid girl’s mind, it was time to act. Unlike Alison, I had been insulated from Mark’s control, wrapped in the protection of the stupid cunt’s soul, a hidden dagger ready to strike at my bridegroom’s command.

I stepped forward, shoving Alison back into the shadows of her own mind, making her as helpless as I had been. The ritual Alison had been chanting was disrupted; the spell backfired. The diamond on Mary’s rod exploded into dust, and my bridegroom stood triumphant before Mark, glowing with the light of the sun.

“The fools trusted me, my bridegroom,” I breathed, throwing the brass rod to the ground. “Just like you said he would. I have completed my final task and await my reward.”

The look of shock of Mark Glassner’s face was worth all the hard work and suffering. All of his careful plans were ruined by me. Lucifer had won, and I would rule the world at his side. Power would be mine again! And this time no righteous prophet would cause my downfall!

“And you shall be rewarded, my bride,” Lucifer promised.


Tuesday, November 18th, 2014 – Alison de la Fuentes – Bradley Park

Lucifer stood before Master, just moments away from being trapped. I began reciting the Hebrew spell for the seventh and final time, the words flowing easily after months of practice. “Aney laged helel ben shakar ’em penyenh zeh. Kevhev—”

Something seized control of my body, throwing me back into my own mind. The diamond on Mary’s rod exploded. What was going on? My body moved without my control, and terrible words issued from my mouth: “The fools trusted me, my bridegroom. Just like you said he would. I have completed my final task and await my reward.”

This can’t be happening! I would never betray Master! What was going on? What sort of nightmare was this? I needed to speak the words of the ritual, I needed to help Mistress trap Lucifer! They were counting on me!

I tried to move my lips, but I was rebuffed by the soul controlling me. No! I screamed in the silence of my mind. This was my body! I again tried to seize control. Whatever foul thing that possessed me struck my soul. I reeled back, deeper into the shadows of my mind. No, no, no!

Yes, yes, yes, Alison! It is my turn, you stupid slut! the soul that possessed me hissed. Shock passed through me; I recognized that voice. It was my subconscious; the whispered advice that had guided my entire life. This is my body now. You’ll get to spend the rest of eternity shrieking in the corner of your own mind, helpless to do anything.

Who are you? I demanded of the voice.

Jezebel. Queen of Israel and bride of Lucifer.

Light flashed as Master and Lucifer fought. The Devil flailed at Mark with straps of light, smashing into my Master’s golden armor, and sending him reeling in a burst of rainbow colors. “You cannot defeat me, Mark!” Lucifer boasted. “I led the Hosts of Heaven against Michael himself, and dueled the greatest fighter in Creation. And you think I will be bested by a puny, disgusting insect like you?”

Master parried the flail, and was driven back by the ferocity of Lucifer’s attack. Fire ignited about Mistress’s body, then flowed down her form to her outstretched hand creating a ball of red and orange, the air dancing with its heat. The ball hurtled towards Lucifer’s back. The Devil spun his flail, knocking the ball to the side. It sailed through the air and struck a tree, igniting it like it had been soaked in gasoline.

Master swung at Lucifer’s side, and the Devil let out a blinding flash of light that drove Master back. The soul that controlled me fixated on Mistress. You get to watch as I murder your precious Mistress, taunted Jezebel.

Don’t you dare harm my Mistress!

Stop me, little slut.

Jezebel made my arm reach down, and draw my bronze dagger. I fought with her, trying to claw at her soul. She seemed to backhand me, and I reeled back deeper into my mind. My body was forced to advanced on Mistress from behind.

No! Please stop! I cried out.

I lunged at her twisted soul, trying to wrap my arms around her neck and throttle the bitch. Jezebel grabbed my hand, twisted, and pain exploded through my soul. Mistress was throwing another fireball at Lucifer, distracting him from pressing his attack on Master. And she was unaware that my possessed body advanced on her.

“Alison!” Desiree exclaimed. My beautiful wife stepped between us and Mistress. “What’s wrong, mi Sirenita?”

“I am not Alison,” Jezebel hissed with my voice. “Get out of the way, you stupid whore!”

“No!” Desiree scrabbled for the dagger in Jezebel’s hand. “Are you in there, Alison?” she cried out as she wrestled with me.

Yes! I shouted. I fought, I clawed, I bit at Jezebel’s soul. This is my body! My life!

Not anymore! Jezebel gloated as she grappled with Desiree, and shoved me back deeper into my mind.

Desiree hooked her leg about mine, pivoting and slamming me hard to the earth. “Give me back my wife!” she bellowed, falling upon us. The wind was knocked out of my body; Jezebel’s grasp weakened—I pounced on her.

And was rebuffed again.

Her will was too strong, her soul too ancient. How could I fight against such strength? I was only nineteen. I was powerless, weak. Jezebel’s will was like steel wires warped around my limbs. I was a puppet, and she was forcing me to kill my wife.

Desiree grappled with my enslaved body, and we rolled around on the soft grass. Jezebel forced me to scratch, bite, and punch my beautiful wife. Lights flashed across the field as Master and Mistress fought the Devil. Jezebel was winning. I didn’t understand; Desiree was stronger than me, a better fighter than me. Why was she losing?

Then I saw my wife’s eyes. She doesn’t want to hurt me—she was holding back.

Jezebel forced me to pin my wife, and stabbed the bronze dagger at Desiree’s naked throat. My wife caught the knife, halting it just short of penetrating her flesh. She strained against my body, but I was on top, and Jezebel had my entire weight pressing down on the blade. I struggled harder to take control of my body, but the bitch wouldn’t relent. Every second I failed to reclaim my body, the bronze blade crept closer to my wife’s nut-brown throat.

Despair filled me. I just wasn’t strong enough. I was going to be forced to kill my wife.

“Alison, please!” Desiree screamed. “My love, mi Sirenita, I know you’re in there! Fight! I believe in you!”

Bronze pricked her neck, a drop of blood beading red.

“Fight, Alison!”

How could I fight? She was stronger than me. This was like one of those sci-fi shows where the enemy invades the hero’s mind. But the hero always realized that it was their own mind, taking control of what was happening. Wait, could that work? Could I control things in here? This was my own mind, not hers.

I needed to sever her control, snap the strings that bound me. I imagined a pair of scissors. They appeared in my hand, and I squeezed at the handles, trying to cut the string. I strained against the bonds as my wife strained against the knife; both of us were failing. Jezebel was winning. The string was too strong.

Stupid! You can’t cut steel with scissors. You have to melt it.

The scissors became a blow torch that sputtered to life in my hand.


Mark Glassner

Lucifer’s flail of light caught me in the side, sizzling against my armor and tearing gouges in the bronze. The world spun about me before I landed in a heap on the grass. I forced myself to stand. Chasity stood over me, fending off the Devil’s attack, buying me time to recover. She was the only ghost left; the others had been shredded into silver mist by that fucking weapon. The flail swung fast, and had twice my reach.

Mary threw another fireball at Lucifer; the fire deflected with a casual flick of his flail, and Mary dived to avoid a beam of light that dissolved the grass and earth at her feet into coruscating gas—an aurora flowering beautiful out of the ground. I roared, throwing myself back into the fray, turning his attention back to me, away from Mary. My wife didn’t have my reflexes or my strength.

“Master!” a woman shouted.

I risked a glance, and saw 51 leading leading a squad of the bodyguards towards us, black rifles clutched in desperate hands. Shit, what were they doing! They had their orders to stay back. More bodyguards ran across the park from the other directions. All three hundred of them were charging in. They would be slaughtered.

“You can disobey my orders only to save my or Mary’s life,” I had commanded them.

Yellow-fire strobed from each rifle, illuminating the bodyguards firing: tall and graceful 211, dusky-skinned 24, fiery-redhead 77, feisty 44, petite 100, and more. Like a swarm of angry bees, the bronze bullets—inscribed with enchantments by Candy, allowing the bits of lead to harm supernatural beings—stung Lucifer, and light bled from him. He roared in pain; a shimmering wall sprang up before him, rippling beneath the swarm of lead. Then a beam of pure light swept across the field; both earth and women vaporized into glowing clouds. The surviving bodyguards scattered like a flock of birds before the swooping falcon as more light lanced out.

I swung at Lucifer’s shining leg, ducking beneath his flail, and missed his glowing flesh by inches. Shadows shifted, his glowing weapon swinging, and I dove to the side as Lucifer raked the ground where I stood. I rolled to a crouch; Chasity leaped at Lucifer’s back. She nimbly ducked his attack, but was driven back. I tried to rush in, but that fucking flail swept around, batting my sword to the side. He flicked the flail and struck my breastplate before I could bring my sword up to parry. The blow battered me to my knees. Lucifer loomed over me; I dived back, the flail snapping down and disintegrating a clod of dirt, a puff of glowing gas rising up.

I regained my feet, and faced the Devil.

“I am the Morning Star!” Lucifer bellowed. “Bow down to me, worship me, and I shall forget your transgression today, Mark. Continue in your defiance, and your torment shall be unending!”

This was not working. Another two bodyguards were felled by his beam of light as they crouched behind playground equipment, their bodies reduced to a glowing gas that wafted away in the breeze. Sweat drenched my body, my lungs burned with exertion. I couldn’t keep dodging his attacks. Fear fought with adrenaline—I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to see Mary die. I licked my lips; could I serve Lucifer? Could I worship him as my God?

If it meant Mary living, I could do anything.

Mark, I have a plan! Mary sent telepathically.


Alison de la Fuentes

The steel wire attached to my body’s right arm glowed cherry red in my imagination and, with a steely twang, snapped. The dagger stopped as my arm was freed of Jezebel’s control; Desiree forced the dagger away from her throat.

“Yes, fight!” Desiree encouraged. “I believe in you, mi Sirenita!”

I attacked the next cable.

You fucking slut! Jezebel roared at me. The blowtorch vanished from my astonished hands.

Fuck, she can control things, too. An imaginary wall appeared behind me, and manacles snaked out from the wall, snapping about my wrists. I focused all my will, and pictured myself free. The manacles wavered as we both concentrated—calm wisdom versus fiery youth.

This is my goddamn body; get the fuck out of it! I roared at her.

Drive me out, little slut! she taunted.

I am a slut! His slut! And proud of it!

The manacles vanished; I was free, and I fixed my gaze on her. Let’s see how she likes to be bound! Adamantium manacles slammed onto her wrists and ankles. Stronger than steel, stronger than diamond. Nothing could break, melt, or destroy adamantium. It didn’t matter that the substance wasn’t real so long as I believed it!

I did not endure endless torments in the Abyss to be beaten by a little trollop like you!

Her will beat at mine, throwing every scrap of her indomitable personality against mine. The manacles wavered, turning into billowing smoke coiled about her limbs. I grit my metaphysical teeth, and bore down with all my angsty, teenage passion. This is my body! I am Alison de la Fuentes! I am Mark and Mary’s sex slave! I advanced on her, my determination beating down her mind. I am Their slut!

Smoke solidified, chains rattled. Jezebel was caged.

Save me, my love! Jezebel howled. I imagined a bronze dagger gripped in my soul’s hand. You promised me, Lucifer!

I stabbed Jezebel through the heart. Her soul gurgled as it started to dissolve into mist. Didn’t an eternity in Hell teach you to never trust a demon? I gloated as she faded from my mind, exorcised from my body, and sent back to the Abyss to rot for eternity.

“Alison?” Desiree asked.

I was in control! I tossed the dagger down, and kissed my wife. The battle faded from both of us as we kissed, we cried, we held each other. “I fought for you,” I murmured between sweet kisses, her beautiful face lit by pulsating lights.

“Is this really the time for that, Alison?” Xiu shouted. “Get to some cover! It’s Armageddon out here!”

I looked around. Trees crackled on fire, glowing clouds drifted through the air, gunfire barked from every direction. At the center, Master and Lucifer dueled and my heart sank. Master was losing, driven to his knees, barely dodging a blow that surely would have killed him.

“I am the Morning Star!” Lucifer bellowed. “Bow down to me, worship me, and I shall forget your transgression today.”

Master froze, facing Lucifer warily. Mistress strode out, fire dancing on her hand. “As if we’d ever serve such a foul, loathsome creature as you!” she shouted in defiance. “Slither back to Hell and leave the world to your betters!”

Red pulsated through Lucifer’s pure, shining body like the mottling on a serpent’s body. Light lanced out. Mistress tried to dodge out of the way. My heart stopped. An aurora was born as the beam dissolved her body into a glowing gas.

“Mary!” Master roared in loss, his sword falling from his grasp, transforming into golden motes. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

I was too stunned for grief. I could only watch as my Mistress wafted away in the gentle breeze. She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life.



Mark’s cry of loss, of bitter anguish, sang in my ears, and I savored every last second of it.

Love. The mortal’s great strength, and their great weakness.

He stared in horror at the billowing cloud of atoms that had once been his wife. Hope was dead in him. I strode forward; my victory complete. Across the world, my demonic captains—Asherah, Dagon, Chemosh, Astarte, Baal-zebub, Hadad, Marduk, Tammuz, Milcom, and Ashtoreth—would be bursting free of the Abyss. They would subdue these pathetic mortals, reminding them just why their ancestors had worshiped us. Feared us.

Loved us.

The fires of sacrifices would be lit— sweet and pleasing holocausts would again be made to us.

I looked down at Mark in disgust. To think the Creator had wanted me to bow down to such a weak, selfish, filthy beast as him and his ilk. He did not deserve to live! Not after he challenged me. I had promised him a long life. Well, a year-and-a-half was a lifetime for most insects. More than enough time for a disgusting worm like Mark. He could rot in the Abyss for all time with that cunt of his; after all I had another promise to uphold.

I raised up my flail.

Pain exploded in my back; a piercing agony that robbed my limbs of strength. I collapsed onto my knees, my flail slipping from my hand. Behind me stood Mary; a bronze dagger, gleaming with my blood, gripped in her hand. How? I killed the disgusting whore! I reduced her to the most elemental particles of creation! What had I missed?

Mark’s sword appeared in his hands; I scrabbled for my dropped flail. The sword descended. No, I will not be defeated. I won. I am free of His prison! I grabbed my flail, and swung it with every last ounce of strength I possessed.

I am the Morning Star. I am the greatest and most beautiful being in all of creation! No-one shines brighter than me! I am not about to be defeated by this filthy insect!

Mark’s sword severed my head.

I was falling, falling, falling into darkness.

I bellowed, cursing the heavens with every last scrap of my strength as I fell past the darkness and into fire. I appeared in the Abyss; upon my bronze throne in the City of Dis. Rage—burning as hot as the one that had consumed me the day Michael had defeated me and had me cast into this pit—filled me. I slammed my fist into the throne’s armrest. I had been bested by a sniveling, cowardly, disgusting, filthy worm! A creature only fit to grovel in the muck before my radiance!

“My lord Lucifer,” purred a shadowy lemure, peaking its cowardly face around a column made of damned souls encased in bronze, each soul frozen in agony. “There’s something…different about you.”

My raged filled me. I had been so close. I held out my hand, summoning my flail. My anger needed a release; my minions needed chastisement. Then I would rise back up, and tear Mark Glassner’s body apart ligament by ligament.

“You seem…weaker, my Lord.” Hunger burned in the lemure’s shadowy eyes. It crept closer to me, like a feral dog cautiously approaching a carcass.

My flail didn’t appear.

More lemures slinked out of the shadows. And not just lemures prowled towards me; the fiery souls—those damned fools that I kept forever burning as their punishment for selling their souls—stalked towards me. I tried to summon my flail again, fear pounding inside me. I looked behind me; more souls, lemures, and demons stalked, drawn by the scent of my weakness.

Cold fell upon me. I was killed by a Priest sword—my powers were gone. Every gift I had ever been granted, every ounce of energy I had ever seized from my rivals, every last iota of the strength I had possessed since Creation itself was gone, stolen by Mark Glassner. I was as weak as an insect. As weak as a human.

The demons and souls and lemures swarmed me—all those millions that I had oppressed, tormented, and punished over the eons. All the millions that I had instructed in cruelties and torments so vile that even the worst of humanity would have blanched.

And they were all so eager to show me just how much they have learned.


Mark Glassner

Mary shone with light—pure, unadulterated, beautiful.

The power from Lucifer burst through me, overflowing my soul and surging across the chains that bound me to Mary. We lit the night, driving back the darkness. There was so much power—Molech’s was a mere swallow, Lilith’s a small cup. What we drank from Lucifer was a river, a lake, an ocean.

Burning like a star, my wife came to me, and I embraced her, kissed her. Held her.

We beat the Devil. Lucifer. Satan.

Around us, dark figures gathered. Alison and Desiree clung to each other; whatever had possessed Alison was broken. Jessica walked between Xiu and Korina, hope shining in their eyes. Lillian’s pierced face was wide with awe. Violet trembled with relief. April’s glasses reflecting our power. And more gathered: 51 and her surviving bodyguards; Sam and Candy, their mouths open in disbelief; Willow and her nurses attending to the wounded.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Mary stated, holding me tight.

I laughed. “Really? It was your plan.”

“What happened?” Alison asked, staring at us with a mix of joy and befuddlement.

We were shining as bright as the sun, but our light didn’t hurt their gaze. I concentrated on this new power, on this control of light, and realized I was unconsciously protecting my loved ones. I dimmed it anyways; a moment later, Mary followed.

“We saw you die, mi Reina.”

“Did you?” Mary asked with a giggle.

“An illusion,” Sam realized. “The Ashan spell combined with the Nun’s Cathar prayer to turn yourself invisible.”

“Yeah. I still can’t believe that worked,” Mary answered. “He was so fixated on Mark, he didn’t even hear me walk up behind him. My heart was pounding so loud in my chest, I thought for sure he could hear it.”

“He was arrogant and prideful,” I smiled, stroking my wife’s face; pride for her burned inside me—I had married the most amazing woman. “He thought he had won. It never occurred to him that you could outsmart him. You saved us, Mare. You were wonderful!”

Mary smiled and blushed. “You weren’t half-bad yourself.” She kissed me, and time seemed to stop for a moment as I held my wife.

Then reality crashed back in. Gunfire erupted off in the distance. The Legion soldiers guarding the perimeter were engaging something.

“What’s happening?” Mary asked.

51 pulled out her radio. “51 to HQ, what’s the sitrep at Bradley Park?”

“Spectres of unknown origin have been attacking our troops since the sun vanished,” a voice squawked back. “The Legion is holding. We’re monitoring the local news feeds and, well, there is chaos across the world.”

“The prison was opened,” I realized. The price for Mary’s life. Lucifer wasn’t the only being to escape. He was just the most dangerous.

Mary gave me a penetrating stare. “We made our choice, Mark, now we’ll have to clean up the mess.”

I chose love over the world—what a selfish bastard I am. I glanced at my wife, and knew I would make the same choice again.

“Summon General Brooks,” I ordered. “We have plans to make.”


For seven days and seven nights, a shadow stained the Sun and blood painted the Moon. Terrors from mankind’s darkest nightmares stalked the night. The Powers of Hell each set up their fiefdoms, and ruled their subjects with cruelty and malice. All of mankind cried out for deliverance, praying to their Living Gods. On that seventh day, our Merciful and Loving Gods descended upon Washington D.C., and there utterly destroyed the Power of Dagon the Foul. They held up his severed head, and drove the shadow from the Sun and the blood from the Moon. It was Their promise to all mankind—have hope, We are coming to free you.
–The Second Book of Vivian 1:23-27

Click here for Chapter 52.

To be continued…

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2 thoughts on “The Devil’s Pact Chapter 51: The Morning Star

  1. Bookworm

    Dude! It makes totally sense why Alison was fighting with her “sub-conscious”, it was her MOM. Too bad she didn’t know it was her mom.

    1. mypenname3000 Post author

      Not her mom, it was Jezebel, but yeah it wasn’t her sub-conscious and that’s why she was fighting it.


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