The boy stared at him, face streaked in some ash like his family had been when he returned from Hell.No hat shielded his head, his hair ruffled by a hot breeze.Brown eyes — bloodshot.His lips were pressed fine together.His hands were open at his sides, but they trembled so terribly that they could have been furious fists.But he didn’t seem angry, not really.There was a hollowness to him.As if the Beast and the Anti-Christ had been emptied out of that body and all that remained was a boy, a boy who’d tried to be good.
“You know now,” Dina whispered, and though he’d intended to grin, to once again tell the star in his head that they, together, had handed God the death, the war, the pestilence, the famine that He wanted, Heneeded— he saw his own face in Tadeo’s eyes for a moment, reflected.And he heard the yells nearby of women, and the cries of some young.Dina remembered the home he’d been allowed into, the one of Tadeo’s excited family.He remembered being thrown out from his house when Heaven heard of what the Watchers had done.He’d wondered, laying on the ground, clutching at the abdomen that angels had just kicked, why it all had to be like this.Why does God demand pain?Why does God end the world?Why doesn’t He recreate, why doesn’t He tenderly, gently, forgive?Why did any of this have to happen?
Quietly, the angel turned on his heel, and the boy watched him walk away.
In Hell, a kneeling Rosier had just finished tying the strings of his sack, and he looked up to see Asmodeus, who had just stepped out of another room into the living area.Their gazes locked on one another, and then Rosier smiled gently, nervously.Right before him, on the carpet, there was an open chest; hundreds of engagement rings and wedding bands, and other forms of marriage items — nose rings, ribbons.Slow, Asmodeus adjusted the bag he had slung over a shoulder, then he thumped his walking stick against the ground as he approached, then lowered himself.He kissed Rosier’s hair, slow, loving.“I’m sorry,” he said, “that we can’t take everything.”
Rosier stared at all the artifacts of their relationship, then he touched Asmodeus’ arm with a tenderness like an open wound.“It hurts,” he confessed.“But I try to remind myself that this is the fate of every demon and human alike, in every war.We left so much behind in Heaven, Asmodeus, and we know now that it’s gone forever.We’ve seen women, children, men abandon their homes, in apocalypses like our own.And you and I — we’ve found all their cherished things in the rubble.I know the emptiness they must feel, how many nights they’ll lie awake dreaming of finding the lost, the dead.For so many, divine or earthly, there is loss, loss and loss again.It comforts me, sometimes, that we are all united by loss, by the homes we abandon.”Suddenly, he sniffled, reached to find his eyes watering.“Forgive me— We should go?—”
Asmodeus’ gaze softened sadly, and he took Rosier’s arm, tried to gently lift him up.“Before anyone sees.”To Earth, before anyone sees that they ran off together again.There would be no need to choose between Moloch’s cruelty or Baal’s empty rule if they simply left them all behind.“But we won’t have to leave the next place we get to, Rosier.I promise.I don’t want to run anymore.”He cupped Rosier’s face, pressing his walking stick to his side with his elbow; his legs trembled.Deep, slow, the demon duke kissed Rosier, then he breathed, “I love you.I was created by God to love you.”
‘To love me, to hurt me.’Rosier thought of their belongings again, all that’d be left behind — their jewelry and pottery, many tunics, robes, the toys of old pets, the paint on their walls, everything collected from all of history.“I love you too, Asmodeus.”He supposed he’d been made for this too, however much loving Asmodeus felt like captivity at times.He kissed back softly, gentler.
Asmodeus thought: ‘I spent all of my eternal life before you begging for love.The gentle angels, the healers — I was always drawn to them.God was guiding me to angels I could break.’He pressed his forehead to Rosier’s.‘I’m sorry it had to be you.’“Rosier… put on the armor that we wore to reach Heaven.You can have my helmet again.”Blinking, tilting his head, Rosier tried to speak, but Asmodeus said it again, “Please.”Rosier hesitated, but then he nodded, and he whispered he’d try to be quick.Asmodeus offered to help.
The process was quick with both their hands working to fasten the straps of the armor, and then they grabbed their things again.At some point, Rosier asked, “What about you, Asmodeus?”The duke said that he’d left his armor with the horse.Beneath them, the ground rumbled, an old human-crafted statue fell off a shelf, shattered loud enough to make Rosier jolt.And that was all they’d needed to take each other’s hands and hurry back out into Hell.But it was already worse than it’d seemed a mere few hours ago.
Flesh had further sprouted from the ground and from every wall, every low-hanging ceiling, and they were catching fire.Between the flames — faces with open mouths silently wailing.The tortured dead themselves, boiling over.The sight sent thousands of demons on the crowded streets in every direction, each one trying to find Satan’s tower, as if the devil’s touch could individually save each one of them.A bitter part of Asmodeus almost laughed at how short-lived the sense of victory had been over their destruction of Heaven, but some hellfire flared close enough to make him startle.Then, he noticed how all the souls of the animals were missing, too, running away how they’d done alive to the first signs of storm.“The horse—” he said quickly again to Rosier.“We need to get on the horse.”But it was by the tower — what if another demon had already taken it?“We need to get to the tower.”
Rosier looked on in terror at the chaos, but he nodded, holding his bag tighter, heart pounding in his ears.‘Where is Armoni?’His friend.Armoni was the only person beside Asmodeus that Rosier really worried for, and he feared how Moloch might use Armoni as a shield against the fire.He clenched his jaw, and he breathed out nervously, pushing through the crowds with his husband.With flares lapping out, igniting other pieces of flesh, the hellfires were beginning to spread.All Rosier could do was hold onto Asmodeus’ hand tighter, like only Asmodeus could keep him alive, how all the demons prayed Satan could do to them.
From high within the tower itself, the devil stared out a window, still in his regal wear, and he saw the same destruction as those on the ground, but he could see further.The people of ash in between the demon settlements were turning into smoke, rising up in coils and puffs of darkness.And Satan’s gaze was cold but fear was beginning to bleed through.A ragged, tired breath left his mouth, and though all of the building was flooding now with nearly as many demons as it could fit, Satan still had a few footsteps of distance to himself and Baal, the regent almost pressed to his back, watching the furnace that their Hell was rapidly becoming.The prophesied sea of fire, forming.‘But the armor is strong,’ Satan reassured himself.‘Even those who don’t make it into the tower should still find themselves able to claw to the Earth.’Sharply, the tower rumbled, candles shaking in their holsters, dust spilling from corners.
“Baal,” Satan whispered.
“Yes?”Immediate.
“Can you ensure Rosier is in the tower?”
Baal breathed in, seemingly hearing the unsaid words there: ‘Hell isn’t safe, only the tower is safe.Where is Rosier?’“Yes.”And he unfolded his wings behind himself, reached to open the window before them.
Below, Asmodeus panted and grunted, and Rosier turned, looked up at him, eyes wide.“Hm?Are you alright?”His husband was limping, one of his knees twisting awkwardly.“You’re tired?”His voice was high, frantic, but Asmodeus squeezed his hand in reassurance.“Should we rest?”
“No, there’s no time,” he rasped, his dark eyes landing on Rosier, holding steady.Then, he laughed softly, almost knowingly.“Look,” and he nodded his head forward, at Satan’s abode towering over them, “right past there, we left the horse, remember?We’re almost there.”And he dragged a foot forward, then another, pulling Rosier alongside him.“Tell me where you want to go.You like the warmer places.With all the tropical fruits, the rain, and the sun.”Opening a trembling mouth, Rosier wanted to say that all those pretty places might be gone now, all those homes they’d stayed in, many of them destroyed even before the apocalypse, in earlier apocalypses between humans.“Let’s settle there.Come, come.”Eyes burning, Rosier nodded.“And we won’t ever run again.No more rebuilding our homes, our lives, everything again and again.”He hissed in pain, but he continued still, and Rosier took his hand with both of his own.“Rosier.”
“Asmodeus—”
A burst of fire nearby, from the ground itself, whipped at some yelling demons beside them, and Asmodeus and Rosier ducked in unison, missing its attack, but the horrible warmth still washed over their bodies.Together, they staggered some more steps forward, and they leaned against one another, and they approached the tower, and they looked forward.When another flare reached them, they lowered their heads, but it struck fierce enough that it threw down Rosier, who clenched his eyes shut.He held on only tighter to Asmodeus’ hand, pulling his arm close, and he cried out when the armor around him heated against his skin.But Rosier didn’t burn, and he curled around his belongings, and around Asmodeus’ arm.He heard screams, wails, of burns, but not from Asmodeus.He almost dug his nails into his friend’s, his husband’s touch.Asmodeus’ arm.
When Rosier opened his eyes, he gasped, almost retched, and it was all he saw — Asmodeus’ arm.It ended at the elbow, where Rosier hadn’t been able to cover him with his body, and there was nothing that remained beyond.No ash, no corpse, no dust.All of his body had been torn apart by the fire into nothing.Except this arm, this hand, that Rosier still held even when everything else was missing.The ghost of Asmodeus’ voice still in his ear, an echo fading with each reverb.Heart stopped, not understanding.An emptiness, before him, in Hell, inside of him.He could not scream.
“Rosier!”Baal’s voice.“Rosier—” Terror cutting his words.
Just an arm, a hand, that had held the young demon’s face every day for an eternity.Incompatible, inseparable.The fruits of friendship.Demon of lust, demon of love; they should have abandoned their hope long ago.But they had adored one another despite, and it hadn’t been enough.Sometimes, love is not enough.
CHAPTER36
Joana was ignoring Lupina, the kingpin’s daughter who she so terribly loved.They walked alongside each other on the uneven street, some gravel scratching beneath their shoes.Though she lived across the river now, Lupina frequently visited to enjoy the few pleasantries of her hometown and wealthy friends who still lived there.Once, Joana had resented that — being just connected enough to this place to dabble in the good but capable of turning away from all the bad, and that frustration tripled with Lupina.She may not have been responsible for the state of town, but her father was.Or so Joana had thought; it wasn’t as clear to her as it’d been before.‘Her dad told me that it was the soldiers who infiltrated the criminals, not the criminals who corrupted the soldiers, not really.’And so Lupina’s father had, perhaps, simply been carved out of something much larger; Joana could kill him and see that nothing would change.Removing the dark spot on a fruit’s skin didn’t do away with the rot.
“Joana,” Lupina called again, sighing.“Please.Talk to me.”Her manicured hand came over Joana’s wrist, halting her steps.“I came all the way here for you.I crossed the bridge this way even though everyone is running the other way.Foryou.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” Joana sighed harshly, then she yanked her arm free.Facing ahead, down the road, she saw the reddened sky of morning, and she felt a sinking weight in her chest.How was one supposed to live during apocalypse?How was one meant to continue taking steps, continue all the threads of loyalties and love?It all seemed worthless now.Slow, she turned to look at Lupina, saw the beads of tears tangled in her long lashes.‘Maybe I’m lucky.’Joana had lived all her life knowing there would be no growing up, no elder years; she hadn’t let herself dream.‘But I know,’ she thought, gazing at the girl she loved, ‘you wanted to go to college, again.You wanted to give it one more try.I told you that you could do it.’Swallowing toughly, Joana spoke more stiffly: “I’m looking for Tadeo right now.Can you go?”Lupina opened her mouth.“I’m happy that you’re alive, but you should go with your father.”Then, before she could stop herself: “I hope that guy you’re going to marry is alive too.”
Lupina froze, lips still parted, before her brows furrowed and face twisted.“You can’t be serious.”A scoff rattled her before she shook her head.“Joana— I never?—”
“You never what?”Joana didn’t want to waste time over this, over their relationship, at the end of the world, but her face burned, and the hinges in her jaw ached.“You never wanted anything serious with me, I know.”And she turned around, began walking again, though Lupina’s rapid footsteps followed.“You used to tell me you don’t want to be with me; you want to be agirl.Well, go be a girl.With your man, with your family.”
“You’re awful,” Lupina snapped, though her voice cracked, enough to make Joana flinch.“God, you’re so awful.Do you even know howmeanyou are?”
