Chapter Twenty One: Adramelech

I wanted him to look at my thing. I wanted him to see it, touch it, and become a part of it. The more I stood beside my brothers and in the chamber of my machine the more I felt aware of my own hunger. I wanted them. I wanted both of them. I would do anything to consume Azazel and his consciousness, to know what he knew and to feel what he felt. It felt too tempting. The machine itself was akin to my bowels. I could feel my machine rumbling and gurgling, as if shaking itself to life. It felt like a pot boiling over. I've desired for eons to consume Azazel. I felt like now, now was my chance. I could maybe have them both.

Azazel was chattering away at Sachiel, motioning with a slender arm to the machine. He was explaining it was if it were his invention, his idea. I stood and listened as he explained-- as he so loved to do—that the machine began as a small construct of money. He explained that money started as an energy quantified in numbers that could trade a human's intentions and then their actions--and ultimately their free will. I knew this to be mostly true as it was I that was the consciousness that created it, not him. I listened and spoiled in resentment for Azazel, blathering on and on to our new brother.

The machine itself began reflecting my mood. Some of the numbers that were scrolling across the arms like electronic light bars and began to glitch. They were no longer showing numbers in Arabic numerals but began to misread in stars, shapes, and emoticons. The machine was its own entity with its own thoughts, but it is still inherently connected to me. I could feel what it felt, and it felt what I felt-- and we were both starving. Just Azazel's mere presence in our domain agitated both the machine and I. The cave walls that held it in place began to rumble. Volcanic rocks and sharp stalactites rained down from the ceiling. It felt like an earthquake caused by a deep stomach rumble.

"Shoot, what was that?" Sachiel wondered aloud.

"Yeah, we better get out of here," said Azazel, likely reading my mood and feeling somewhat threatened. We were far from his consciousness' core. He was weaker in my domains. Using all of the combined strength of both myself and my machine, I could possibly overtake him. If not him, then at least Sachiel. It might take everything I had, the strength of a thousand stars. It could take all of the money that ever existed. I did not want to risk myself entirely-- it was the only thing holding me back. What if Azazel felt too threatened and in turn, he consumed me?

The pull became too strong.

Together, the machine and I acted as one. The arms moved together in the most organized fashion, one after another. The machine moved like a centipede, efficient in conserving energy with every step. The body moved fluidly for its size, an elegant wave that came crashing down upon the ledge where Azazel and Sachiel were standing. It was like a hammer descending upon them with all its might.

Yet I could feel it was too late. Azazel, using his power of time, was one step ahead. He slowed time down giving himself enough space to react. We were brothers quarreling. He had escaped me a thousand times. I have the strength but he had the speed. I could feel him elude me seconds before even the machine could take notice. He moved ephemerally, a demon of the air. The machine came down and collided with the rock walls.

I could feel Sachiel somewhere. He drank my coffee-- my blood-- and thus we were always connected. I was now a part of him, so he could not hide forever. It also meant that Azazel couldn't devour him either, he was marked as mine. Only time could wear off the enchantment and I doubted Sachiel had the wherewithal to deflect my persistence for long. He was already considering giving up.

The machine righted itself and used its arms to climb back into its nest, shaking the deep cave systems of Hell with every step. I decided to leave it and find a meal somewhere else.

I would have left my machine and called it a day, except that something else happened. I watched as Azazel and Sachiel left my machine and I. Typical of Azazel, he used his time-bending abilities, or whatever you want to call it, to escape. I could feel it happen. It was as if the air became thick. He was exerting his will to the maximum of his ability. He fought the desires of my machine and I to eat him. It happened so quickly and with so much force that something broke. I had never seen it happen on this side of the Veil. I wasn't even sure what I was looking at.

What woke me and brought it to my attention was the reaction of the machine. The machine began to settle in its nest deep in the subterranean rocks of Hell. However, before it settled its many rows of hundreds of arms and legs in place, it made a powerful sound and burrowed even further into the rocks. I could feel its unease, too. I turned and looked. There was a tear suspended in the air. It was a heavy, black crack. It looked like dark lightening frozen in place. I walked around it in wonder. Was it something Azazel had left?

It had no aura, no information on the surface. Yet, I knew what it was. Hell is a hot place because it is perceived that way by humans for centuries. But also it is hot because I like it like that. It reflects me as an entity. It was an expression of my personality. This splice Azazel left in my domain was cold. It was colder than cold. It was like dry, sucking ice. I examined it and it felt as if it was a rip in the dimensions connecting directly to the Void. It was as if our side of the Veil were collapsing, too. I had never seen anything like it. No wonder my machine was afraid and hid.

And it was all Azazel's fault. Everything was. The fact that I was standing in Hell at all, as well as acting the king of it, was also his fault. He was supposed to be true Prince of Hell-- not me. He was breaking what was already broken even more. I stared at the black gash in fury. I could fix it, but I knew that was likely a temporary patch. If I was only now seeing this-- there was likely hundreds of thousands of lacerations in our side of the Veil everywhere. The conclusion was the state of the Veil had to be far worse than even I realized.

I patched it. I ordered my machine to burrow somewhere else. I wanted somewhere solid for it to nest. I was no expert on the Veil. I knew Azazel to likely be the best resource of information on the subject. However, since he was the one that caused the Veil to splice in the first place-- he was either careless or wasn't aware of the problem. His moving around from dimension to dimension was directly causing it to happen. He was making the universe unstable.

I needed another brother to talk to. I needed Meresin. I knew him to be the only entity that I was aware of in all of existence to escape the Void. I heard that he also had been studying the Veil. He was the Devil behind the details. The demon behind viruses and illnesses. I don't like him. He gives me the creeps.

I wasn't sure Meresin was digestible. Thus, I had no reason to ever contact him directly before. As a matter of fact, I never thought about him. I had barely noticed his existence since creation. ...Then he was gone in the Void for an indeterminable amount of time. Since Hell was clearly crumbling into the Void, I thought it urgent and that I had no other choice. I had to find him. However, his vibration and signature are so foreign to me I do not know where or how. He could be in the Void right now and be entirely unreachable by anyone or anything.

I had to speak to one of my highest ranking officers. I needed the demon, Baphomet. I immediately relocated myself. I collected my consciousness into my throne room. Since I am a vast being of enormous responsibility, I have collapsed and categorized much of my necessary functions to entities that I have created for specific purposes: demons. Baphomet is one of my most trusted, loyal, and competent. If anyone were to know if Meresin made a demon, Baphomet would know their name and how to find them. Then, that demon could be made to speak of the location of their master.

I enjoy and respect formalities. I like it best when protocols are followed and so everything falls into place. I only spoke to demons in the throne room, while properly dressed. Sometimes the throne room reflected my mood. Other times, as with meeting with Baphomet, I liked it more respectful and professional. Since it was a matter dealing with one of my brothers, I needed the issue to be taken seriously.

I made the inside throne room dark, reflective steel. I sat upon a throne made of wrought iron and dripping in magma. I wore a masculine breastplate with carved phallic symbols and gauntlets with sharpened claws. I made the air smell of dragons-blood incense and burning flesh. I made the floor a sheet of burning hot embers and coal. I decorated the walls in tall stone carvings of horned bulls. The air was hot and acidic. I knew what Baphomet expected to see since I was her creator and master. I knew she likely had the answer and wouldn't fail me. I crossed my legs at the knee and centered myself for the meeting. I needed to gather my wits. I didn't truly want to speak to Meresin. I knew I would be lost in the Void if it somehow broke through my domain. I simply did not seeing ending this way.

"I am summoned, I am come," said Baphomet as she arrived. Baphomet looked as she usually did, a woman's body with a goat's head. Her eyes were mismatched, one gold and the other milky white. Her breasts were bare and she wore a simple linen skirt around her waist. Her horns were strong and curved. She bowed before me immediately.

"Tell me, first. Have you witnessed a tear before in the fabric of Hell? Like a break in the Veil, but here. In these realms, these dimensions?" I asked.

"Yes, Lord," replied Baphomet, her head bowed.

"What have you done?" I wondered.

"We repair them," she said.

"What do you do when there is a tear in the Veil against Earth?" I asked.

"We exploit them," she said. "We use them as portals to cross over."

"How often do you come across tears to the Void? Tears on our side?" I asked her.

"More often these days," she said. "But only the fallen can repair them. We have systems of agreements with your brothers as so we do not need to trouble you," said Baphomet.

"Well, I am troubled!" I shouted. I wasn't angry at her but I needed to ask... though I felt I knew the answer even before the words left me. "Who? Who do you go to? To fix the tears to the Void? All of Hell could be consumed if they get any bigger! Hell has never been so structurally unstable before!"

"Azazel, my lord," replied Baphomet, dejectedly.

"And suppose Azazel is part of the problem?" I snapped, resting my head in my palm. I slouched into my throne but kept my eyes on her. "Who would you go to, then? Who else knows about the Void? These serious tears in the Veil?"

Baphomet did not answer. I didn't expect her to, it was more of a rhetorical question.

"Meresin," I answered for her matter of factly. "Do you know him?"

"Yes, my Lord," answered Baphomet.

"How does one get ahold of him? What if he is in the Void again? How can he be reached?" I asked in rapid fire succession. "Because I can't reach him. I just get a cold black nothing when I reach out. He doesn't want to speak to me, I guarantee it. He only speaks to Azazel, probably. Which... Azazel is part of the problem..." I said, trailing off. She didn't say it out loud, but I could feel Baphomet's questioning air. She wanted to know, but since I was her creator and master, she dared not ask me directly. It was the formalities I set forth with all of my created demons. Thus, I went on to answer her.

"Yes, he is part of the problem. I witnessed it in 'person' directly. I saw it before my very eyes. I was about to attack my dear brother and one of our guests. I wanted to attempt to devour them directly since they trespassed in my domain. I had the opportunity. Then, Azazel escaped using his powers. He bent time and space to escape my grasp. This opened a tear. He tore the dimension directly, as if it were paper. He made a hole to the Void. If I had left it, the tear could have consumed all of Hell. So, whatever Azazel does, wherever Azazel goes... he destroys it. Azazel isn't going anywhere, so we must find a fix. Unless, I can consume Azazel's consciousness-- that could fix it also but I have been working on that since the beginning of time," I sighed. "I had another idea; it is Meresin. The only creature to have escaped the Void. However from my gathered information from sources: it has made him insane. It is as if he has become 'one' with the Void. He is always seen as just a black mass. It has made him less angelic somehow. Sources have told me that he is able to control the Void, passing in and out of it at will. The Void has become his domain. That is incredible power if harnessed properly. But, if I could consume him, I would gain his knowledge and control the Void myself."

Baphomet didn't say anything but I could feel her intently listening. She kept her head bowed and on her knees perfectly, as if she were a statue.

"Tell me," I said, wanting her to rise. I did not have to speak, she simply understood my desire and rose to her feet. The majority of demons were under my command and moved like dolls to my will. "Do you know if Meresin has created any demons? We may not find him but perhaps we can track down his creations."

"Yes," Baphomet said automatically.

I was delighted to know something I did not know before.

"Tell me their name," I nearly salivated at the information.

"Vassago," said Baphomet. "I know not any others."

"Vassago," I repeated. "I will summon him. Thank you, you may go," I said, dismissing her. The name gave me the identity of the creature. I attempted to focus on the demon's name and vibration. It was a colorful creature. Vassago felt more complex than most demons. He served many purposes, I could feel. However, that was all I could tell. The rest of the information felt closed to me, as if Vassago had layers of protections and walls. I don't know Meresin very well, so having to summon one of his creations seemed somewhat of a gamble. We may be brothers but we were not friends.

I could feel resistance to Vassago's summons. He did not want to come to me since I was not his direct lord and master. I had to use force to pull him into my throne room. Where Baphomet left was exactly the spot I intended to pull Vassago into. I remained perched upon my throne and far, far below me I yanked Vassago by name to put him into my domain, my throne room. I thought to summon shackles if need be.

On the burning charcoal floor a black circle began to form. I concentrated to keep the connection to Vassago. I didn't even know demons could be programmed to be rebellious. Why would anyone do that? I could feel the creature's reluctance to come. I was mildly baffled at my brother's handiwork. Slowly, Vassago began to materialize inside the summoning circle. The demon took on a humanoid shape. At first Vassago appeared as a black, oily mass. All demons were made of shit. Even if he were complex, Vassago was no different. It was a creature of negative energy with negative intentions to do the Devil's bidding.

Vassago, now fully formed, looked like Azazel in a human suit. The likeness was uncanny. He was tall and fair skinned. Feminine, but not too feminine. It could pass as a human female but also looked somehow male at the right angle. He had a square jaw and big, bright eyes. His hair was copper and curled to his shoulders. His body was muscular, tall, and well formed. It was so close a likeness it couldn't be anything but an Azazel parody. I was too stunned to say anything. Then, I could feel an involuntary slow smirk on my mouth. I could not help it. It was just so funny. I could see he made it as a joke.

"Did he do this on purpose?" I blurted out. I couldn't help but ask. "He made you... look like," I trailed off, flabbergasted.

"Yes, it's been pointed out," the demon replied, looking at his nails the way Azazel did. "though, I can assure you we don't act alike," Vassago went on.

"No doubt," I answered, fascinated. "It's just very funny."

"My master deeply hates his brother," said Vassago very plainly. "I guess I was 'born of hate.'"

"Yeah, I guess that type of motivation could make a hell of a monster," I reasoned. I pulled back my fascination with Vassago and decided to stay on task. I needed to find my brother not poke at his things. "I need to find your master and so I thought to summon you to do so," I said.

"Yes, 'summoned'" fumed Vassago. I was also mildly impressed that he dared show his displeasure in front of me. Though, it amused me, too. It was disrespectful and that was uncommon.

"You pulled me here forcibly through the dimensions. I was performing tasks for my master and now he will be displeased."

"Well? Help my find Meresin--"

"Ask Aza--" Vassago interrupted. I interrupted his interruption.

"--Without Azazel. He is the problem. You can even tell your master that. It is about the Veil and the Void and I thought your master, not Azazel, would be the most helpful."

I could immediately feel Vassago's displeasure and doubts. I was once again impressed by the demon's craftsmanship. Not only could he stand up to an angel, but he had the ability to think critically for himself. It was almost a step above other demons. It was like a piece of artwork. I could feel Vassago scanning my energy and distrusting every word I said, as well as actively disobeying.

"My master will not want to hear from you, Lord Adremelech. I have been given explicit instructions not to trust you, and that your only motivation is self personal growth. I have been programmed with a wide verity of permissions. I have been given data on so, so many topics that I can answer just about any question the master can. I am a very well educated demon," said Vassago. Then, he gave a little curtsy, as if wearing a skirt. Even though the genuflect seemed disrespectful, I could sense that it was not. I could feel Vassago becoming nervous beneath my weight and scrutiny.

"All right then," I conceded. I could feel Vassago breathe an internal sigh of relief at my give. It was as if the atmosphere in the throne room breathed a little. I knew I could not force Vassago. My brother had the ability to flee from me to a place I could not go. Then, I could never get what I wanted. I knew I had to be the one to compromise. "if I cannot meet with him then you must answer my questions. I would not call you here so forcibly if it was not important, yes? I must know about the Void. I must know about the tears, Vassago. There are tears in my domain breaking through to the Void and I fear all of reality will collapse."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Vassago, obstinately. He rolled his eyes as if he did not care. I could sense that he wasn't going to tell me anything.

Now I was beginning to lose my patience.

"You fool, do not mock me. I could easily crush you, you petulant little maggot. Do you think that just because your master made you well that you are something more than a demon? You're a piss-ant piece of shit. You live to make human life misery. You're nothing but a mule for mine and my brothers. You're a peon for our bidding."

The hot coals that made up the floor began to glow. Magma began to bubble and glop on the sides of the throne room. I could feel the temperature mimic my displeasure. Hot gas began to hiss out from the sides of the stone walls.

"You're never going to catch flies with vinegar," said Vassago.

"Tell me what my brother knows about the tears on our side- the Void tears" I flatly demanded.

Vassago seemed to take a deep breath. I didn't sense reluctance, but hesitation.

"You can't do anything about it. There is nothing you can do. The whole system is collapsing. The Veil isn't really repairing itself anymore. All the tears are just... more tears. It isn't healing itself so now other layers that have never collapsed before are collapsing. Like the one on our side. Meresin pretty much thinks that everything everywhere in all of reality and time and space will collapse into the Void and become nothing. Obliviate, was the word he said, but that doesn't sound right? Is that even a word?"

"Well, we can repair it. All of us fallen can, if we cooperate. I can make them cooperate. I'll use force and make them. Or perhaps Azazel can force them once he understands the scope of the issue. In fact, I've made efforts in myself to make repairs. I found that if you make purposeful cuts it can repair itself, like skin tissue," I offered. I was only now beginning to understand that I, myself did not understand the vast scope of the issue. I recalled what Baphomet said moments ago-- that they had been exploiting the tattered Veil instead of repairing it.

"My master has accounted for that. He said he accounted for if all of you, Azazel included, combining powers and somehow cooperating at full force... and it isn't enough energy to fix it. The Veil is in full collapse, actively, right now."

"So, what does your master say to do then?" I asked, at a loss.

"Uh, he didn't say to do anything. He does not expend any more energy to fix it, that's for sure," Vassago said.

"So, so what, he does nothing?" I bellowed. I somehow did not believe that.

"That has been his modus operendi for quite some time, yes," Vassago replied.

"Ugh, you even talk like him," I groaned, thinking of Azazel's cadence. The demon sounded and acted uncannily like him and I found it grating on my nerves. "I can't do that yet. It is happening too fast. There was a Void tear right near my machine," I said out loud. I said it more to myself than to the demon. I knew what whatever I said would be reported back to his 'master' immediately.

"So?" asked Vassago like an petulant child. "Who cares about your machine?"

"What does he do all day? Concoct more viruses as if that would help? I must have his knowledge of the Void if I am to save us all from structural collapse," I implored.

"Since when have you given a crap about structural collapse?" Vassago bit back.

I was a little surprised.

"...with all due respect, my lord Satan. I mean. Your policies have been very pro-anti-Veil before, using them as portals. Whereas, my master has been mending them on both sides for quite some time," blustered Vassago. "A good Veil is a structurally sound Veil," he added in sing-song, wagging his finger. This infuriated me, but I kept it inside.

"So, you never answered me," I pressed, feeling myself ripping at the seams. I wanted to crush him. I knew that I could, but I also knew it was not wise. "Where is he? Where can he be found? Your master does not answer me when I call him. I want to speak with him more directly. He is my brother," I said, as if this gave me some sort of right. The demon didn't look impressed.

"I'll... send word along," said Vassago. This wasn't good enough. I didn't believe him. The demon grinned from ear to ear in such a way that he no longer looked like Azazel. I could see he had some form of his own sovereignty. Why would a demon be created this way, I wondered? I watched as he remained inside the summoning circle and appeared as if he were examining the limits. I could tell that he was searching for a way to escape. "I'll tell him you want a meeting or something," he added to placate me.

I decided to set him free. I waved a hand to remove the summoning boarders.

"Be on your way," I dismissed him carelessly, annoyed.

Vassago immediately vanished without fanfare. He left even more quickly than Baphomet. I was left alone in my throne room. I began to imagine the tear left by Azazel. It was a lightening strike, a slice of black that hung in the air. It was much, much colder than anything I had ever experienced. I like it hot. I like the heat. I know my other brothers, especially Meresin and Azazel, prefer the cold. This is something I could never understand.

I felt personal. It felt like I had been cut. It wasn't just a blemish on Hell-- which is in itself a blighted dimension. It made it worse. The tears were making a bad place worse. That was something that was taking me time to fathom. I was in Hell, but at least I was the king of Hell. What if that collapsed? What would that mean? I turned my throne room hotter. I did not like the Void. I already felt I knew the Void, which was the absence of the Lord. I wanted it warm because it was an embrace. The heat made me feel something.

What if I were to lose that?