Ezra's Battlefield

Ezra pounded through the streets of Paradise City, her lungs burning with each ragged breath. The stench of smoke and brimstone clogged her nostrils. Her sword, Monsoon, slapped against her thigh with each step, a cold comfort in a world gone mad.

She'd left Lucifer and Margot behind. They headed towards the gaping maw of the interdimensional rift while she investigated the warehouse district.

The smell got worse as she neared the warehouses. Smoke mixed with something fouler – the stink of demon flesh. Her training kicked in. Her eyes darted around, checking every shadow. Her ears strained for any odd sound.

Now, as she rounded a corner and skidded to a halt, Ezra wondered if she'd drawn the short straw after all. The scene before her was a masterpiece of chaos, of destruction conducted by creatures that had no business existing outside of nightmares.

Huge, ugly beasts lumbered between buildings. One looked like a bull fucked a meat grinder. It stood as tall as a house, with too many heads on necks that shouldn't bend that way. Its eyes glowed with hunger. Another skittered about on spidery legs, its body was a pulsing bag of acid that ate through the street.

Smaller demons ran everywhere. They were all claws and teeth, tearing into anything they could reach. Metal screamed as they ripped it apart. Glass shattered. The demons shrieked, and so did their victims.

And there, in the eye of this unholy storm, stood a figure that made Ezra's stomach churn.

It was tall, easily seven feet of lean muscle wrapped in a cloak that seemed to be woven from the very essence of night. But it was the head that drew Ezra's gaze and held it.

Where a man's face should have been, a massive crow's head perched atop the shoulders. The beak, wickedly curved and gleaming like obsidian, opened in what might have been a smile on a human. Red eyes, glowing with intelligence, fixed upon her.

Around this abomination swirled a living cloud of crows, their wings beating as they cawed and swooped. The air itself seemed to darken, as if reality was bending around this creature's very presence.

Ezra's fingers tightened on Monsoon's hilt, her knuckles white beneath the grime and blood. The Crimson Oath had trained her for this, or so they claimed. But staring into those burning eyes, Ezra felt every bit the green girl she truly was.

"Well now," the crow-headed monstrosity spoke, its voice a grating caw that set Ezra's teeth on edge. "What morsel has flown into my web?"

Ezra swallowed hard, tasting copper. When she spoke, her voice was steadier than she felt. "In the name of the Crimson Oath, I order you to cease your activities and return to your own dimension immediately."

The thing's laughter was like bones breaking, a sound that wormed its way into Ezra's skull and nestled there. "Orders? You dare give orders? Child, do you know who stands before you?"

"I don't give a fuck who you are," Ezra spat, surprising herself with the venom in her words. Her time spent with the devil might be of greater influence on her behavior than she would like to admit. "You don't belong here. Leave now, or I'll carve you a new hole to shit from."

The demon's eyes narrowed, amusement replaced by cold fury. "I am Malphas, fifth elder god of Asmodeus, and commander of forty legions. But you see, I've recently received a promotion to Duke of Hell, thanks to Lucifer's fall from grace. And you... you are nothing but an insect to be crushed beneath my talons."

With a gesture that was almost lazy, Malphas sent a wave of darkness hurtling towards Ezra. She dove to the side, feeling the heat of it pass inches from her face. Where it struck the pavement, the concrete bubbled and hissed, eating away like acid.

Ezra rolled to her feet, Monsoon striking. The blade glowed with blue light, a beacon in the growing darkness. She charged forward, years of training taking over where conscious thought failed her.

Malphas met her charge with a screech that shattered windows for a block in every direction. His crows descended in waves, a storm of razor-sharp beaks and talons. Ezra swung Monsoon in wide arcs, the blessed steeled-water leaving trails of light in its wake. Where it connected, crows exploded into puffs of black feathers and black blood.

But for every bird she cut down, two more took its place. Ezra felt talons rake across her cheek, tearing flesh. A beak pecked at her sword arm, narrowly missing her eye. She spun and slashed, her world narrowing to nothing but the next swing, the next threat.

Through the maelstrom of feathers, Ezra caught glimpses of Malphas. The demon duke stood calmly, directing his feathered army with small gestures. His beak was open in what could only be described as a grin.

Gritting her teeth against the pain of a hundred small cuts, Ezra pressed forward. Monsoon's light grew brighter with each swing until she was wielding what looked like a blade of pure light. The crows nearest to her burst into flame, their unearthly shrieks cutting through the din.

Finally, Ezra broke through the swarm, bringing Monsoon down in an overhead strike aimed at Malphas's skull. The demon's hand shot up faster than thought, catching the blade between thumb and forefinger. Where holy steel met infernal flesh, reality itself seemed to scream.

"Not bad, little Saint," Malphas said. "But tell me, where is your partner? The fallen one? I so looked forward to tasting his despair."

Ezra snarled, trying to wrench her sword free. "Go fuck yourself with a rusty pitchfork."

Malphas's other hand lashed out, talons wrapping around Ezra's throat. She gasped as her feet left the ground, the world spinning as the demon lifted her effortlessly.

"Your feelings betray you, child," Malphas said, his burning eyes boring into hers. "You care for him, don't you? The great Morningstar, reduced to playing hero with a schoolgirl. How... quaint."

Black spots danced at the edges of Ezra's vision as Malphas's grip tightened. She thought of Lucifer – his cocky grin, the weight of ages behind his eyes, the way his hand felt in hers. She thought of Margot, of the trust she had placed in them. She thought of Paradise City, of all the poor bastards counting on them to save their miserable lives.

With a surge of strength born of desperation, Ezra brought Monsoon up in a wild swing. The blade caught Malphas across his beaked face, opening a gash that wept black blood.

The demon roared, a sound of pain and fury that shook the very foundations of the city. He hurled Ezra away, sending her crashing through the wall of a nearby warehouse.

Ezra hit the ground hard, feeling ribs crack on impact. She rolled to a stop amid broken crates and scattered merchandise, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Through blurry eyes, she saw Malphas advancing, his wound already closing.

"You'll pay for that, you mewling quim," the demon snarled, raising a hand crackling with dark energy. "I'll peel the flesh from your bones and use your entrails to strangle your precious Morningstar."

Ezra struggled to her feet, using Monsoon as a crutch. Blood trickled from a dozen wounds, but she raised her sword nonetheless. If this was to be her end, she'd meet it standing.

Just as Malphas was about to unleash his attack, a new presence made itself known. A figure stepped out of thin air between Ezra and the demon – a girl with flowing purple hair that seemed to move of its own accord.

"Now, now," the newcomer said, her voice light and playful despite the carnage surrounding them. "Let's not do anything hasty, shall we?"

***