Rupture of Hell's Vaults
Dennis L. Siluk
Evil breeds evil—thus,
the initiator has something
to look forward to.
Aznar—the Demon, goes to Asteroid-Ice Cap to find Jokaneen; he has gathered up information of its inhabitants, as well as Moiromma's existence, and now wishes to have some fun with the information he has taken for a price; whereupon, he enlightens the Manticore, of the Underworld: Hell's domain on earth, of his plan to kidnap her, while Agaliarept is on earth doing some hypnotic spells, teaching and breeching all he can with his demonic groups. Kind of teaching new demonic begins their job, the hands-on technique style, I'd gather [likened to: on the job training]. Hence, this is a good time to put together his hellish diabolic scheme he figures. Anything for a laugh he is his whiz kid style.
The task was easy, thought Aznar, especially with the help of the robust Manticore. They had persuaded Amasras, an angelic renegade—not a demon— [one of the 'Old Ones'] to carry them through the boarders and frontiers they were not capable of moving through—in intercellular space; in particular, beyond Pluto, and the asteroid belts.
Such areas of outer space, and the spheres of the earth, for most part, demons, or demonic beings—if not all—were not capable of penetrating them on their own volition, or allowed to leave earth's atmospheric-outer rim to penetrate them, without an angelic escort; they were under a hierarchy like all realms, and subject to its demonic dominion.
So he agreed, and hanging onto this demonic being, within a matter of minutes they were on Asteroid-Ice Cap, binding Jokaneen, who looked in a frightful dismay, not knowing what was going on, and was craftily, and swiftly taken through the channels of space, to Hell's underground domicile (similar to grabbing an apple off a tree and running with it).
As they arrived within the Chamber Vaults of Hell, where the coffins are kept, they quickly put Jokaneen into one, sealing it up tight. There were about twenty coffins in a row within this vault. These were normally used for binding Agaliarept's special resistant customers [Agaliarept: Lucifer's henchman]: as he'd call them. These were constructed out of crystal, so one could see the body inside the coffin, and monitor it, if need be for centuries. Oh yes, yes, even in hell, one must go by certain rules of physics; plus the crystals seemed to pull out and put in certain powers the body required for long term hibernation. These were kept in one special vault in the lower section of the—so called Harbor City area. Where the boats came in with the souls of humanity to be placed and routed accordingly [there are departments, areas, chambers in hell]. The dock area was long, very long, not too wide though, for beyond a certain point you got into what was considered the masses, people on top of people. And beyond that, were mountains, and beyond that were the fires, and below and beyond that: oh well, there were many sections, compartments, chambers within the great walls of Hell; even frozen sections, frozen chambers in Hell, and frozen bodies. There were 72-kinds of death.
Having now placed her in the coffin, her tomb you could say, her new home: for no reason other than the pleasure of watching a person go crazy, she lay there screaming day after day after day, as Aznar and the Manticore came to watch her behavior, like watching a pacing lion at a zoo, or a gorilla caged. But Jokaneen had very little room, possibly a few inches here and there.
On and on she babbled and babbled and babbled, screamed and moved every which way, cried and tried to commit suicide but couldn't somehow (it was the crystals stopping her from doing so): as the two witnesses came down daily to look at her suffering, the two demon faces looking peering into the glass crystal, jeering and laughing, and pointing fingers like crazy kids at her—she lay in decremented isolation. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, she seemed to be going deeper and deeper into a coma; a self-inflicted state of comatose; she had passed through a catatonic state of depression.
During the following months by and by, the two demons were called to do certain duties, and had to leave Jokaneen to her own. She being the last born of the Moirommalit's, she had something special, should she wish to use it, for she was born on Asteroid-Ice Cap during the time of the Moiromma's planting of a gene to which no Moiromma could give birth to children, of which they did on their own, meaning, it was not necessary for two beings, male or female to get together with sexually to produce offspring. In any case, she knew she had this capability within her organism; she was just never going to use it, simply because her comrades would think it against the laws of their land; but now she had no choice, and as a consequence, grew a child within her womb which took only nine-weeks. She knew once the child was born, she'd die, for it would take all her nutrition—all her body fluids to nurse the child to its full strength—save for the fact, the demons stay away long enough for her to produce the child—and there was no way of receiving any in return. The child would grow to its full body figure within a matter of weeks thereafter; as she would wither away like a dead leaf.
And so it was, when the two demons got called away on some special assignment again, she commenced to start the process of procreation, and had her female child, and named it, Siren. Alas, Jokaneen's body turned into a corpse while the child was being nurtured—bones with little marrow left in them, hollow most of them; her flush sucked in like a mummy, but the child had imperceptible strength buried within her veins, a boundless flow of strength, two weeks after its birth, she broke the seals off the crystal coffin. Standing now in this vault, where twenty coffins resided, she open each and every one, all disfigured, some had been there for several hundred years: all living corpses, or seemingly so. They jumped out and onto the rock hard floor, seen Siren, who spoke a hundred different languages at once, echoes, for her mother had did much teaching in that crystal coffin; cast a spell onto her brain, to a level she'd be advantaged in many ways, knowledge only given to Tfarcevol, the prophet before this. Having his knowledge, which was the knowledge, the whole knowledge of the planet Moiromma, she was ready to step into the role of defender of her mother's honor: if the situation demanded it, if revenge could not be found, she'd hunt for it, for the two demon.
Siren the Great
There was a fear, an agonizing irritant, now going through Siren's blood, she knew the demon knew, where her planet was, and that they had help getting to it by Amasras the renegade angelic being, who was supreme, in the sense of being even beyond the demons strength, and possibly hers. But should they be allowed to go to her planet again, they could wipe out all the inhabitants that were left on it. But first things first, she told herself.
She was now eight feet tall, powerful looking. She really didn't' know what she was getting into, only the warriors call, the warriors cry—and that Hell was some kind of extraordinary domain; a domain unlike earth she told herself, as she gazed about. All twenty individuals, she freed: and they all agreed for the moment—anyway, to go along with her decisions, her having the wisdom, and them having nothing to lose and still a bit hazy and off balance from their long ordeal.
Said Sirens, abruptly as if another voice had instructed her:
"Evil faces evil, and immediate evil is what one needs to deliver at this very moment, no time to talk about it."
All the others looked at her, this Army of twenty-soul-spirits, misfits from who knows where, marched to her side, though the halls of Hell, and out into, and onto the dock area, she [she: being Siren] noticed a few faces that were looking at her, faces that is, her mother had imprinted into her memory banks for such occasions like this: the Archbishop of Brugge, was one, and other soul-faces she never knew—for example, there was Ambrose Austin Keats, and the Butcher of Brugge; faces so many faces, big, fat, ugly, and uglier, and horned faces, and dumb looking faces, cat faces, bulldog faces—etcetera.
An alarm went off in the underworld: a signal that something was erupting, which was a Code Red, in earthly terms. One that called for none other then the presence of Agaliarept [the Henchman of Hell], and if he couldn't put out the fire, then Satan [otherwise known as Lucifer] himself would have to come and get involved; but Agaliarept, the Henchman showed up feeling at the moment he could calm matters down, plus, he needed to show he had the skills to do it, should he call on additional assistance it would not look good on his record, having such a high position being Headsman of Hell that is, was a title many sought after; many were standing in line for him to fail for sure.
As Agaliarept stood his ground at the Gates of Hell, he took his sword, and had one-hundred of his best arms-men [deadly warriors] stand in a line—a lone row, impenetrable, as he cut there heads off while the Army of twenty approached; he cut their heads off so as to intimidate the enemy approaching, for they could grow a had back as quick as a snail can grow an eye—and he yelled,
"It is better I do it than you, lest their heads get in the way before they subdue you."
He wanted to be horrific to the oncoming fighters, something Lucifer taught him I suppose.
At this moment, this instant, the Manticore, and Aznar were hiding behind some granite rocks, Agaliarept knew it, but paid little attention, he'd get to them later for disrupting his vaults. In either case, he had to subdue the oncoming army which was really only equal to two squads of soldiers, and he had a company of men-beasts, demonic creatures, aliens behind him, about 160 to be exact, as all the hundreds of boats with new tenants for hell were clustering together and causing the harbor to become impassable: un-navigational.
Watching, everyone was watching the commotion on the dock area. Should the Adversary [Satan] see this, all Hell would be under quarantine. Matter-of-fact, should Euonymus, the Price of Death, or Pluto, the Prince of Fire, or Amduscias, the Grand Duke of Hell, who had a unicorn head appear he'd not be seen as a person worth his salt, and brought to judgment by Lucifer; brought in front of the court of which these men were his peers, which these men along with Belphegor, the King of the Demons could make him a guardsman like Buer, or Tyr the Mischievous, or Guseyn the Homosexual, Botis the Blob, also a Stationary Guard—a humdrum life indeed. Life would not be comfortable to say the least.
Siren, had never fought a battle, but her blood was boiling for one. And now they were in talking distance to one another.