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by Raven Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Action/Adventure · #2261944
Our heroes venture into the abyss to save their world, while trouble brews back home.
#1021589 added November 14, 2021 at 3:48am
Restrictions: None
Chapter 10
Rebecca sat in the newly renovated bedroom. She had to admit, Jake had exquisite taste even before she came along. Intricate molding along the walls, high ceilings, and beautiful works of art lined every inch of the manor. She'd taken the liberty of installing her own personal touches, but for the most part it was a lovely home in its own right. Like any good home, though, it truly needed a woman's touch to become great.

She left his bed alone along with the satin sheets adorning it; she would make good use of the four tall posts in due time. Using her ever-growing powers, she erected a large stone throne for her to sit in. The arms were stone carvings of demon skulls with amethysts placed in their mouths, and the back consisted of a cross that she'd designed to honor her dearly departed sister. Her followers had brought in a large round table for her to plan out her next moves, hold meetings, map out the city's new infrastructure. Multiple racks to house her many toys, tools, and instruments of both pleasure and punishment lined the walls. She'd carefully taken down the family portraits that he had and stowed them safely in the basement; she'd personally supervised the move to ensure that they were well taken care of. In their place, she'd arranged for portraits of her and Jake to be painted and hung.

Her flock had been growing with each passing day, but she still hadn't received any news of her beloved's return to this world. The demonic invasion seemed to be slowing, but she was still receiving reports of portals and demons here and there across the city. It didn't sit well with her, but at least it provided a distraction from her worries and fears about Jake. Teaching both men and women alike of the purpose she brought and guiding them to truth helped her to keep Jake's wellbeing at the back of her mind, but the nagging fear was always there. She was proud of how quickly many of the women she'd taken in had taken to grasping magic, though. She had elected seven women to be indoctrinated into her new court as advisors and potential magistrates. A part of her hoped that Pamela would rejoin her cause; she would prove invaluable in showing these women just what they could achieve through dedication to the craft.

She was currently standing over the large table contemplating her plans for the city's redesign. She'd already instructed her flock to eliminate all advertisements that played on the mega screens throughout Metro Square, and in their place were quotes from her scripture read by some of her more charismatic followers. Sermons were held and broadcast across the radio waves and televisions once per day. She'd had several complexes renovated and redone to house slaves, and others she'd established as a sort of playground for her more loyal followers. Her dear sister's church had been restored, and she'd gifted it to some of the gassier members of her flock. No one would ever be able to replace Chelsea, but the women of her church did honor to the message she sought to spread.

She raised her hand and a translucent image of the cityscape rose from the map. Who needed technology when you had the powers of a God? Her slave housing was coming along nicely, but one complex in particular had gone eerily silent over the last few days. She'd ignored it in favor of dispatching some of her more combat inclined followers to investigate, but they had never returned. Her first thought was that perhaps one of Metropolis' resident villains was attempting to seize one of her own businesses for themselves, but there hadn't been any sightings in some time. Between Elizabeth's brutality and her renewed presence, many of them had gone silent before she started taking control of the city. It was troubling to put it mildly.

The complex in question was on the southwestern side of her city, and was adjacent from one of her construction sites. This made the issue twice as bothersome. She'd ordered the inhabitants to begin construction on one of the many statues of Jake she'd started erecting across the city. Several were either close to completion or finished, but she hated leaving anything half finished. Everything had to be finished and perfect for when her beloved returned. Even just this one piece was working her nerves at an unprecedented rate. Deep down she knew that it was primarily her worry, but she couldn't admit such a human weakness to her public. She was a Goddess, and a Goddess couldn't be known to have, hold, and show such frail emotions!

There were those within her inner sanctum that knew of her feelings, and she made no secret of her love for the people's messiah. That didn't mean she could show fear and worry, however. Doing so would risk losing her respect and position; the seeds of doubt took root faster than any other, and often they bore the bitterest of fruits. She hadn't prophesied his return, much as she wanted to, she couldn't risk being proven wrong. It pained her to think of it, but she had been preparing a sermon in case news reached her of his death in Hell. She had only made it halfway through thus far. The idea of her beloved Raven becoming a martyr for her cause broke her heart, even if it would strengthen her believers faith in her. What little she'd already written talked about how he bravely ventured into Hell to save this world, and bring down the empire of Hell in her name. Compelling as it may have been, she hated the idea of losing him once again.

There was a knock at her chamber doors, and she could sense anxiety coming from whoever it was. "Enter," she called without looking up.

The doors opened and a woman clad in a black gown with her insignia emblazoned on the chest walked in. The soft golden curls that framed the young woman's face made her easily recognizable. Magdalene, one of seven, walked in with concern in her sapphire eyes. She bent her knee and bowed her head as she spoke, "Forgive me for bothering you outside of our meeting hours, Goddess, but I've received word from our sisters about the House of The Raven."

She'd named the complex after her beloved, and that was yet another cause for her ire. Of all the homes she'd crested for the slaves, this one was by far the nicest. It was meant to serve as a reward for any of their exemplary services. She frowned, not liking the sound of this, but addressed Magdalene in a gentle tone, "Tell me, dear, what news have you heard about it and the whereabouts of our slaves?"

Magdalene stood but remained still as she gave the frightening report, "At first, we had thought it was the work of those vile Children of Darkness heretics, but then Clarissa, one of the mistresses, found the body of one of the missing slaves. Broken, dismembered, and missing a portion of his innards lying in one of the alleyways close to the complex. Something had ripped him apart before dining on his entrails in a disgusting and haphazard way. When we dispatched the soldiers to investigate and they never returned, we assumed that they had converted or simply abandoned their posts. Clarissa has been carefully monitoring the area, and she just reported a disturbing sight. The heads of several of our soldiers and slaves have been placed on the unfinished statue of your Raven."

This struck a new chord within her, and she felt her eye twitch as she asked, "Someone has defaced the statue of my beloved? Tell me that you've found the culprit so that I may deal with them personally."

Magdalene bit her lip, and Rebecca could feel her anxiety spike at her words, "I-I am afraid that it is more than j-just one being, m-my Goddess."

Rebecca took a deep breath as she tried to ease her disciples fears, "I am not upset with you, Magdalene, nor am I angry with Clarissa. I know that you both are loyal to our cause, and I trust that the both of you would do everything in your power to bring these heathens to justice. Relax, dear, you have nothing to fear from me."

"T-thank you, Goddess, my apologies for my unease," Magdalene said as she took a deep breath before continuing her report, "Clarissa has spotted movement in that sector of the city, but all the cameras in the condominiums have gone dark. I believe, and Clarissa agrees, that whatever is responsible for these heinous acts is hiding within those walls. The distortion on the images, the unnatural darkness within the halls, and the aura that even those without training can feel when nearby leads me to believe that the demons have taken refuge within The House of The Raven. The texts that you have graciously allowed me to study suggest that, if they are indeed demons, they are of a stronger class than the ones we've dealt with over the last two weeks."

"The last reports I'd received indicated that there were only a handful of portals left open," Rebecca said.

"That is correct, Goddess, and it was what we were told by our scouts," Magdalene replied, "I've broken the scouting division in half, and have redeployed the more reliable. Those that have been problematic are being dealt with as we speak. Either their information was false, they overlooked portions of the city, or…"

"Or the forces of Hell have found a way to open doors from their side," Rebecca finished, "If that happens to be true, then perhaps they need a reminder of just who this world truly belongs to. If they think that I will allow them to overrun my world after they...that is, if they have managed to...to."

Black hells she couldn't even admit the possibility of Jake's death! She was relieved that it was Magdalene who was here with her and not an entire congregation of her flock. Magdalene gently offered, "Goddess, I am certain that your Raven still lives. He is an instrument of your will, a guiding light to the heretics who followed him at your request, and I know that not even the combined might of Heaven or Hell could stop him from fulfilling his purpose. He is the one who redeems those who serve, the one chosen to be the Hand of the Goddess, and the one who is fortunate to hold your heart in his hands."

The words of Magdalene did wonders for her spirit. It was one of the reasons she'd chosen her to join her inner circle, that and the girl's studious nature of course. Out of the chosen seven, Magdalene had immersed herself in the tomes and books more than any other. Not since Pamela had she seen someone so hungry for knowledge and understanding. Her kind heart, combined with her domineering nature and thirst for the arcane, made the girl an ideal candidate. Magdalene's small stature and soft features made her easy to overlook when she was searching for the last woman to fill her coven, but then appearances were often deceiving. It was a lesson that even she needed reminding of from time to time, and having the short blonde around made helped to serve as a constant reminder.

Despite her deepest fears, Rebecca smiled at her disciple's kindness, "I pray that you are right, dear, but even a Goddess has things that she fears. It goes without saying that my concerns do not leave this room, am I understood?"

"Yes, Goddess, of course," Magdalene replied, "I would never risk causing you to lose the respect that you rightly deserve. If I may say, though, your fears and worries are moving to myself and the rest of my sisters. It reminds us that there is hope for lowly humans such as ourselves. After all, seeing you have such emotion proves to us that we may one day ascend beyond our frail selves as well. This is merely my opinion, mind you, but I felt that it would benefit you to hear it, Goddess. Forgive me if I spoke out of turn."

"No forgiveness necessary, my dear Magdalene," Rebecca said with a smile, "It warms this old heart to hear that these emotions strengthen the faith you and your sisters have in me."

"We live only to serve you, and to further your will, Goddess," Magdalene said.

"Now, to the matter at hand," Rebecca said, her tone turning serious and the smile falling from her face, "What do you propose we do about our little infestation?"

"The rest of my sisters and I have agreed to select some of our more capable, obedient, and skilled slaves to follow us into the complex," Magdalene replied, "These creatures wish to hide in the dark, so we will drag them into the light ourselves in your name! We've driven out demons before, Goddess, and we shall do so again. They've tarnished the monument to your Raven, and for that they must pay the ultimate price!"

"So you intend to lead your sisters into battle then?" Rebecca asked, "Are you certain that is wise? Your devotion is admirable, but you're charging headlong into a fight with an enemy you have yet to see."

"We cannot stand for the injustices they have committed, Goddess," Magdalene replied, "Their very existence is an affront to you, but to do what they have done is truly a horrific and disgusting travesty. Among those that were slaughtered by these monsters were the followers of Michael. He himself was only spared due to a sermon he had to deliver that day."

Rebecca's face fell further upon hearing this, "You failed to mention that dear Michael had lost his brothers and sisters. What of the collars I bestowed upon them?"

"Destroyed and defaced, Goddess," Magdalene answered, "Forgive me for leaving that out. Michael has been...distraught and he's withdrawn into himself since the massacre. His Mistress has spoken to him several times, and each time he seems torn between vindictive rage and solemn prayer."

"I will speak with him," Rebecca said, "Do nothing until I return. I will not tolerate defiance on this order, Magdalene. When I return from speaking with our resident Baptist, we shall discuss plans for retribution on these filthy creatures. Have Clarissa make sure that the area surrounding the complex is clear of all inhabitants. I want to ensure that no one else meets a gruesome fate, and I don't want any of our faithful family getting caught in the crossfire should I choose to intervene."

"Are you considering lowering yourself to dealing with those demons, Goddess?" Magdalene asked.

"I haven't made up my mind just yet, but perhaps the denizens of Hell need a reminder of just who they're dealing with," Rebecca answered as she prepared to leave the room, "Have your sisters ready for my return, but be patient until then."

"Yes, Goddess, your will be done," Magdalene replied.

Rebecca walked past her disciple and out of the room. Her room, Jake's former master bedroom, was located on the second floor of the manor, and she stopped to admire her renovations for just a moment before continuing towards the wide stairwell. She'd kept the hardwood floors and the dark oakwood that lined the walls, but she'd added her own touches to the place. The sconces and other light fixtures had been replaced by ornate torches that glowed a brilliant purple thanks to her arcane fires. To match the violet glow she had some of the slaves put down an expansive purple rug with gold inlays forming a unique and almost Arabic pattern throughout it. A small touch, but she did love the eastern culture almost as much as she did Celtic. Busts of herself, her sisters, and figures from her past were placed throughout the halls, and vases from long bygone eras were placed throughout. They were works from an ancient collection she had accumulated over centuries, and it had taken some work to retrieve them from her old home.

She strode confidently down the stairwell, and several of her followers stopped to bow before her as she passed. The feelings of Godhood nearly overshadowed her feelings of worry over Jake. It was good to be in charge once again, and it felt right to have so many people following her every command even without her slave collars. Maybe it was the fact that they did her bidding without the forced incentive, but there was something different about this than in the past. It felt purer than in times past. In all her years of living and ruling, she'd never had so many follow and bow without the use of her mind control powers.

She passed by one of the seven on her way out, Morgana, who approached her, "Goddess, are you off to see Michael?" she asked.

"I am, Morgana, why do you ask?" she replied.

Morgana looked away for a second before replying, "His Mistress, Chelsea, has been wracked with guilt over his state of mind. She feels as though she's failing him. Might I ask that you speak with her as well? She needs guidance from your most divine wisdom."

The growing sisterhood that her followers showed for one another was something else that inspired her. So many times she'd seen people motivated by greed and selfishness, but those who chose her way chose to believe in a common good for each other. "I will make it a point to speak with her before Michael, Morgana," she said, "Make sure you and the rest of your sisters continue to quell any doubts or uncertainty others may have until my return."

"Yes, Goddess, your will be done," Morgana said with a bow before rejoining her sisters.

Chelsea and Michael stayed together in one of Metropolis' many brownstones on the upper east side of the city. The two were an ideal couple in her eyes; she controlled and cared for him, and he carried out whatever whim she had in return. Whenever the two conducted a sermon together it was both moving and powerful in many ways. Knowing that both of them were entering a downward spiral was troubling to say the least. The demonic threat needed to be dealt with, but these two took precedence over that. They were the two who had helped her to realize her goal. If it weren't for their faith and devotion then her empire wouldn't be flourishing in the way that it currently was! She pondered on the right words to say as she walked out of the manor and into the city streets.

Jason ducked behind one of the dumpsters in an alleyway as some of Goth's followers stalked by. First demons, now the return of his former Goddess. He knew the world was going to shit, but the threats he suspected hadn't included this level of madness. He was one of the few unbound men and women left in the city that didn't align themselves with one of the noise factions. The damned Children of Darkness had made laying low incredibly difficult since their assassination of Goth's precious thirteen disciples. Without a collar he was fair game for any of the women, and he wasn't about to submit to any of their insanity, not again. Why so many men laid down for that sociopath was beyond him.

Once he was sure that they were gone, he crossed the street to head into the old clock tower that had been left abandoned since Goth took over. It was here in the broken tower that he and a handful of others called home and plotted their uprising. He entered and went straight for the stairwell. Two women wearing Goth's insignia stopped him, "Halt, slave, where is your collar?" the one on the right demanded.

"Knock it off, Charity," Jason replied.

Charity cracked a smile at him, "Sorry, Jay, gotta do something to keep my spirits up. You know, since the world is going to shit and all."

Charity and Avery were two insurgents that he and his cohorts had implanted into Goth's ranks. It was thanks to them that they were able to continue their efforts here in the clock tower. Avery spoke up, "I can't tell if you're smiling behind all those bandages, Jay. Guessing you're not in much of a joking mood."

"Am I ever?" he asked before adding, "Is she in or is she on another supply run?"

"She's upstairs waiting on you," Charity replied, "She's not happy with the recent turn of events either. Word is, that complex was overrun by more demons. Avery overheard some of the sisters talking about mounting a full scale offense on them. Maybe we get lucky and they take each other out."

"Or maybe Goth decides to step in herself," he countered, "They desecrated one of her idiotic statues of her lover. It might be time for a reminder of why she's the one calling the shots. Make sure you maintain your covers, I'm betting things are about to get worse before they get better."

"Yes sir!" Avery said, saluting him.

"Idiots," he muttered with the ghost of a smile behind his wrappings, "Be careful, girls, you've been an asset to our operation, and I don't want to lose anyone else to this insanity."

He walked past them and headed up the multiple flights of stairs. The wood creaked with each step he took, and dust clouds were stirred with each footfall. Their home was weathered and worn from years of neglect, but at least it was safe from the monsters that lurked within the streets. Between the demons, Goth's growing family, and those damned Children of Darkness there was hardly any place that could be considered safe. The chain of events had forced him to turn to new allies, ones that in the past he'd have rather cut out his tongue than deal with. He supposed that his feelings really didn't matter, though. All that mattered was that they were on the same side.

He climbed the last step and the musky scent of body odor graced his nose. The clock tower had a mildew smell to it, but it was bearable until she came along. The stench was a small price to pay for a strong ally, though. He opened the door and found his partner standing over their crude planning table. She didn't look up as he entered, "You're late," she said, "I'd almost thought you'd defected back to that psycho."

Kaitlyn Cassidy, better known as Kaitlyn the Conqueror, looked up from the map they'd managed to lay out of Goth's new Metropolis. She wore a modified centurion garb with a shorter skirt and nothing beyond the pauldrons. She'd shed her toga once the demonic invasion had begun as means of demonstrating her strength and superiority. "Fuck you, Kat," he spat, "How did your last outing go?"

She laughed, "Ha! You should be so lucky, you sniveling little worm."

"I'll remind you that it's this worm that's ensured our operations have gone undisturbed for as long as they have," he countered, "Now, are you going to answer my question or stand there and be a bitch?"

She huffed at his reply, "We managed to secure enough food to last us another week. Salley and Sam just reported back in with news of more demons sighted in the slums. If what Avery has said is true, then we should be preparing for a full lock down, as much as I hate to admit that out loud."

"Better to play it smart than risk the lives of those that trust us, Kait," he said, trying to ease her lust for battle.

"Still think your heroes will return to fix this hell?" she asked, moving away from the table.

"I don't believe in heroes, Kait, you know that," he replied, following after her, "Heroes and villains are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. I hope that they make it back, but it's not because I think they'll save us. I hold onto that hope because we need all the power we can get for what's to come."

Kaitlyn sat on the ruined couch that she had carried from one of the old apartment complexes. Jason sat beside her, ignoring the pungent smell wafting off of his comrade. She didn't understand the man beside her, but there was something about him that she liked. Maybe it was his candor, maybe it was how steadfast he was in the face of danger, or maybe it was the fact that he didn't view her as the villain the city saw her as. She was selfish, headstrong, and entitled, but she knew and accepted this about herself. Jason didn't seem to care, though. He was different than many of the men and women that she'd encountered in her life. He wasn't much to look at, but he was loyal to a fault. His hatred for Goth was a nice plus.

"You keep talking about things to come, but you've yet to share with me, or anyone for that matter, just you're referring to," she said, "What exactly is worse than Goth and demons?"

"There is more evil on the hearts of humanity than the combined might of Hell and even Goth's forces," he replied.

"I fucking hate it when you get cryptic like that," she said as she reached for a tall can of beer, "You're candid about everything else, but why keep this to yourself? Don't we deserve to know what's coming?"

"One problem at a time, Kait," he replied taking one of the beers for himself, "None of it will matter if Goth manages to succeed. We only enter the endgame if she falls."

She took a large swig of her beer and let out a massive belch. If it bothered Jason, he didn't show it or say anything. Instead, he merely took a sip of his own beer. "What's your big plan for dealing with her, Jay?"

"Still working on that," he replied, "I'll get back to you once I figure it out. For now, we need to focus on keeping a low profile and surviving until then."

"Hey dickwads," Salley yelled as she entered the main room, "We got movement below us. Looks like those crazy coven cunts are herding people away from that demon nest. Got a bad feeling about this."

Kaitlyn chugged the rest of her beer before slamming the empty can down and belching again. She shot to her feet and said, "This is ridiculous, we should be out there showing those people who to really worship!"

"And that would do what exactly, Kait?" Jason asked as he set bis own beer down, "You're no match for Goth on your own, and going out there would only get yourself killed. You're more use here with us. Tell me something, do you want to be worshipped or have people follow you?"

"Like there's a difference," she replied, "I'm a Greek Goddess compared to these people, and I'm owed that sort of treatment. They can worship while they follow my lead."

"That's just it, Kait," he said as he stood up, "You're suited to lead rather than have people serve you. Look around you, everyone here looks to you for guidance. They come to me, yes, but you're their symbol here. Isn't that enough?"

"It should be me out there," she said with bitterness in her voice, "I should be the one ruling this city from that damned manor, not that wicked witch. Instead, I'm stuck here in hiding having to fight to survive one day at a time."

"Kait, listen to me," Jason said, "We live to fight another day, and in time we'll see Goth fall from grace. I'm not asking you to give up your beliefs, I'm asking you to do the right thing for once."

She both loved and hated when he got like this. This man would be the death of her, and while she hated herself for it, she often found herself heeding his council. "It's been too long since I've had a proper fight, Jason," she said after a minute, "Too long since I've felt someone submit to me properly. You've no idea what it's like to have this need for something only to have it taken away again and again."

"I think you know that's not true," he said, bitterness seeping into his tone, "Years of my life were spent locked in my own mind following Goth. I yearned for freedom, independence, but it was never given to me. Even as I drew my last breath, I still wasn't free. If a fight is what you want, then fight me."

That earned a laugh from her, "Like you could ever pose a threat to me, string bean. You're smart, but you're weak."

"If you're afraid, then just admit it," he taunted.

"I fear no man or woman," she said adamantly, "If you want me to put you in your place, then just say so. Chose your next words carefully, little man, because if I win then I own you."

"And just what does that entail?" he asked.

"You'll serve me whenever I want, obviously," she replied, "You'll worship my glorious body, clean the sweat from every inch of me, and take whatever foul gifts I choose to give you."

"You know, it's been said that there is freedom within submission," he said, "Beth found hers with her mistress turned lover. I'll satisfy your lust for battle, but even if I lose I will not follow you blindly. What I lack in strength, I more than make up for in cunning. Treat me as Goth and her lackies did, and I promise you I'll make you suffer in ways you cannot imagine."

"Hmm, I almost believe that," she purred, intrigued by his strong force of will, "Do you really wish to fight me, Jason? Is serving me what you want? Maybe those years of submission left an imprint on you."

"Okay, I'm gonna give you two some space," Salley said, "You two end up fucking, lock the goddamn door. Been two fucking months since I've been laid, and I'm not trying to watch our fearless leaders get freaky."

"That's not-" Kaitlyn said, becoming mildly flustered, "Do you honestly think I would sleep with this lowly little man?!"

"Say what you want, I know arousal when I hear it," Salley said, "Fight and fuck, I don't give a shit. My niece murdered her girlfriend before they started fucking, so all weird is out the window in my book."

Kaitlyn was about to respond when Salley quickly walked out. She looked back at Jason with a mix of anger and hunger in her eyes that he easily read, "Well, Kait, do you accept my challenge or will you yield?"

"I'm going to break you, little man, " Kait said with a hint of another pur in her voice.

The two squared off against one another. Jason knew he didn't stand a chance against her, but if it proved to be a distraction for her he was willing to do it. She was brash, harsh, and selfish, but he knew she had a good heart somewhere buried deep down. He'd take whatever she could dish out if it meant she wouldn't do anything drastic. If his former masters were still on the move, then it would take everyone and everything to keep this world safe. Goth was only the first of many threats that crept over the horizon. He'd seen the shadows cast by the looming threats, and not one of them boded well for anyone.

Rebecca walked up the steps to the large brownstone that Chelsea and Michael had claimed. Nightfall was close at hand, and the glow from the streetlights gave the city an eerie yet beautiful look. She wished that she had come here under better circumstances, but such was the nature of life she supposed. She knocked on the large wooden door and waited for a response. After a moment, Chelsea came to the door looking exhausted, disheveled, and disgruntled at having visitors. The poor girls makeup was smeared and her eyes were puffy from crying. She'd seen that look before, and she could only imagine the pain that the poor girl was in.

"Goddess," Chelsea said, surprised that Goth had made the journey here herself, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

"I was just informed that you and Michael have been undergoing some extreme duress, my dear," she replied, "May I come in?"

Chelsea stepped aside and bowed her head, "Of course, Goddess, please do," she said.

"You may call me Rebecca this evening, dear," Goth said as she walked in and took note of the tumultuous state of their home, "I understand that you've been having a bit of a tough time with Michael since the incident."

"He's being stubborn and insolent, mam," Chelsea said, "He's holed up in the spare room, and has been for several days!"

"There's no need to put on airs with me, dear," Rebecca said, "I know the pain that comes from seeing the one you love suffer and being unable to do anything about it. It's just you and I here, there's no need to pretend to be strong."

Chelsea looked away as tears welled up in her eyes, "I don't know what to do anymore, Goddess," she admitted, "I want to help him, take care of him, but he won't let me. I've been with Michael for years, and in all that time he's never been like this! He blames himself for the loss of his brothers and sisters, and he's filled with self-loathing and regret that he wasn't there with them!"

Rebecca could feel the waves of sorrow rolling off of Chelsea, and her misery mixed with Michael's that drifted down from the second story. Part of her savored it, but then there was another part that despised it. It was strange how her humanity had influenced her personal preferences. She could recall a time where fear and misery were like fine wine to her. Now, it tasted almost like sour grapes. She told herself it was because one of her own was hurting, but if she were honest, that had never mattered to her in the past. Perhaps some part of her mortality had taken root within her once again. She watched as Chelsea drudged over to a couch before plopping down on it.

"What am I supposed to do, Goddess?" Chelsea asked as she put her face in her hands, "What use am I to anyone if I can't control my own slave?"

"Having a heart doesn't make you useless, Chelsea," Rebecca said as she walked over to the couch and put a hand on the girl's shoulder, "You're lost and afraid, but that doesn't mean you're without purpose. What if I told you that I may have a solution that would allow you and Michael to be together as one for eternity?"

"The collar was a symbol of our bond," Chelsea said, fighting back a sob, "All I want is for us to be together and happy, Goddess. What do you propose?"

"I'll need your consent and Michael's first, dear," Rebecca replied, "Just know that you two will be joined together for eternity and will serve to further my reign."

"Of course, Goddess, whatever it is I'll do it!" Chelsea proclaimed, "Michael is upstairs, but forgive me for not accompanying you. It's too painful for me to go up there."

"Rest, Chelsea, I will speak with young Michael," Rebecca said, "I will return shortly, and if he agrees I want you to prepare yourself mentally for what is to come."

"Yes, Goddess, I will do as you command," Chelsea said, a bit of hope cutting through her otherwise perpetual misery.

Rebecca gave her a smile as she left her faithful servant. What she was planning was something that would benefit her, but there were risks to it as well. She hadn't lied to the girl, but she hadn't revealed just what her promise entailed. Some part of her knew it was wrong, but the ends always justified her means. Michael and Chelsea served her without question, and she was giving them the choice to give everything to her. She told herself that this made it better, but some part of her couldn't help but wonder if that was true. In the past she would have taken what she wanted, but her time with Jake had evoked more change in her than she realized. Even now she could hear his disapproval at what she was planning. It was all for him, though, it was always for him.

She followed the trail of sorrow that seeped out into the upstairs hallway. It led her to a single green door wherein Michael had chosen to seal himself away from the world. His pain was palpable and powerful. So much so that it made even her feel a hint of remorse on his behalf. It reinforced the rightness of her offer. What she was offering was a mercy, an escape from all his pain, and a means to reap vengeance on the demons that had taken the lives of his brothers and sisters. Plus, it would allow them the ultimate honor of helping her grow into a truly indomitable force. She merely needed to get through to poor Michael.

She gave the door three sharp knocks and waited on a response, "Leave me, mistress, I am not worthy of your presence."

"Michael, this is your Goddess speaking," she called out, "Let me in, dear, it is imperative that I speak with you."

There was silent for a moment, and she could feel his shock upon hearing her voice. "Goddess, I am not worthy to look upon your perfection," he said, reminding her of his humility once again, "I have failed you and my family."

"Michael, open this door and let me in," she said in a more stern tone of voice.

There was silence for a moment before she heard the door unlock. When the door opened and she finally saw her faithful messenger, she felt her heart break. His shaggy blonde hair was matted and unwashed from neglect, his eyes had dark circles around them, and his clothes were stained from wallowing in his own despair. "Forgive me, Goddess, please come in," he said weakly.

"Michael, my dear, tell me what's happened, what has you so distraught," she said, knowing full well the cause of the boy's suffering.

"I failed you, Goddess, and I failed those that I converted," he said as he walked over to the wall and fell to his knees, "Your glorious House of The Raven, my brothers and sisters, all destroyed because I was too busy to watch over my flock. I preach about your grace, your wisdom, and how we should aspire to be more like you, and yet I neglected them in favor of being with my mistress. If I'd have been with them, then-"

"Then you would have fallen prey to the demons just as they did," she finished for him, "Michael, what happened to your brothers and sisters is a travesty, but you being there would have done nothing to stop those monsters. You cannot continue berating and blaming yourself."

"What should I do then, Goddess?" he asked, "Merely say the word and I will do whatever you decree. You are the only truth that I still have in this evil world."

"Why do you wait for my command when you have a loving mistress of your own downstairs?" she asked, "Tell me, what has Chelsea told you to do?"

He looked away as he realized that he'd neglected the very law he'd preached upon for weeks on end. "I have been a fool," he said grimly, "My mistress has pleaded with me, implored me to let her in. My hypocrisy knows no bounds! In my selfish grief I've hurt my own most high! Goddess forgive me, what have I done? Tell me, merciful Goddess, tell me that Chelsea is fine, and forgive me if I've wronged her in any way."

"Grief and doubt are inherently selfish, Michael, but that does not make you any more of a sinner," she said calmly, "Chelsea has been worried sick about you, but only because she cares for you. By my decree and both of your words, all of humanity are sinners. Your sin does not define you as long as you continue to repent and turn towards me. What are you willing to do to atone for your transgressions against your beloved mistress?"

"Anything, Goddess, I'll do anything to make what I've done right," he said with the utmost certainty.

"What if I told you that I have a way for you to serve me one final time and become eternally joined with your mistress?" she asked, trying to fight back her excitement at what was to come.

"What do you have in mind, Goddess?" he asked as he got to his feet.

"It is easier for me to show than to tell, Michael," she replied, "Your mistress has already agreed, and if you do as well then merely follow me."

He was hanging on her every word as she prepared to leave. She felt his want and need grow as he scrambled to catch up with her. This was it, she had her two willing volunteers. With their commitment to each other, and to her, combined with the energies she'd absorbed from the Hell rifts, this would solidify her place as this world's one true Goddess. She suppressed a wicked smile as she walked down the stairwell and back to the living room. Chelsea sat up at the sounds of her heavy footfalls, and her face lit up at the sight of her beloved Michael. It was almost enough to make her reconsider this, almost.

"Goddess, you've done it!" Chelsea exclaimed as she rushed over to wrap her slave in a loving embrace, "Michael, my dear sweet slave, I've been worried sick about you!"

"Forgive me, mistress, I was being selfish," he said as he returned her hug.

"Hush now, it was only that big heart of yours that I love getting the better of you," Chelsea said, "You care more than anyone or any man I've ever met."

"As endearing as this is, I need to know if you two are willing to take this final step," Rebecca said, feeling slightly guilty about tearing into their intimate moment.

"Yes, Goddess, we are both willing and ready," they said in unison.

"Good, then kneel before me and join hands," she said and waited for them to do so before continuing, "This is a ritual that will unite the two of you within me for all eternity. Your souls will become one, your consciousness will become singular, and the two of you will further the power of your Goddess. If you two truly wish to go through with this then remove my boots and take a deep breath."

Chelsea and Michael exchanged a look with one another before nodding and doing as they were told. They crawled over to Rebecca and unzipped the sides of her black boots. Rebecca stepped out of her boots and let her bare feet feel the cool air for a change. The scent of moldy cheese and decay permeated the room, but both of her followers didn't even flinch at the smell. Instead they did as they'd been instructed and inhaled deeply through their noses. Neither of them gagged despite the strength of the odor. It was impressive to see such a high level of dedication from the two of them. She couldn't have asked for two stronger or more willing people to sacrifice themselves for her cause.

She held out her hands and they began to glow purple along with her eyes. She began to chant in a dual toned voice, "By the light of the moon, by the infernal winds, and by the spirit of the most high, I call upon the ancient forces lurking beneath the Earth. Come forth and Ben to my will, give to me that which is eternally sought, but seldom obtained. These two have chosen to submit, chosen to give themselves to me until the end of time or until I cease to draw breath. Let them witness the glory of my true figure, and let them see just who the true Visage of this world's Goddess!"

Michael and Chelsea were intimidated by the sudden change in their Goddess' voice, but what they saw next truly shook them. Rebecca's body began to change before their eyes. Her hips narrowed into a more sinewy and slender shape, and a thick black smoke crawled up from the ground around her. It flowed up her legs and wrapped her lower half in a strange gown. Her porcelain skin somehow became paler and her arms lengthened. Her fingers grew into sharp talons and her long black hair flowed further down her back. A strange golden growth started to form at her forehead and slowly started to take the shape of a fan-like crown. Her eyes shifted from a dazzling violet to twin rubies that shone with an eerie light. Finally, two large bone wings ripped out of her back as her dress disappeared. Only her raven locks covered her breasts, but they left little to the imagination.

She flashed them a wicked smile as she stretched in her true form. Rows of jagged and razor sharp teeth glistened in the glow of her eyes, and she spoke in a distorted tone of voice, "Do you, Michael, accept the gift that I offer?"

"I-I do, Goddess, glory to you in all things!" he proclaimed.

"Excellent, and do you, Chelsea, accept this gift as well?" she asked.

"Y-yes, Goddess, I do," Chelsea said with a stutter.

"Then by the power vested in me by the powers both above and below, I welcome you to an eternity within me!" Rebecca exclaimed.

A brilliant white flash blinded the two of them, but they each felt a burning sensation start within them. The pain was excruciating, but even through their screams they maintained their choice to serve her. Their bodies began to glow before they started to crumble. Like dust being swept away, their limbs fell away one particle at a time. Rebecca inhaled as they slowly turned to nothing, and with her deep breath she sucked in their essence. Their screams continued to echo throughout the home even after their bodies were gone. Rebecca was left standing in their empty home. She could feel their souls coursing through her veins. God this felt amazing! Having the souls of two lovers swirling inside of her was amazing! She could almost feel their hearts beating as one.

She exhaled and felt the temperature drop. Being in this form took a massive amount of energy, but thanks to Hell's leftover energy and Michael and Chelsea's sacrifice she was one step closer to full ascension. She needed more, though, she needed a way to solidify this boost in power. If the demons were still coming through, then perhaps a display of power could draw them out. There was more than one way to open the door between worlds, and if these demons were of a high enough class then perhaps they would work. Her public deserved a show of why they followed her anyways, and perhaps it would bring her one step closer to achieving the ultimate power. Her sights fell on Stinkromancer herself, and with that in mind she phased into the ground to deal with the growing threat.

The demons that lurked within The House of The Raven had been biding their time. They'd received strict orders to wait for the word to mount a full assault on the city and wrest control from the pretender. They'd taken the building by force, and they'd made it a point to demonstrate their lack of respect for her. In a brilliant turn of events, the humans were turning on one another! Apparently, there were already factions forming and division was growing. Through their small actions, they'd deepened the rift between them. It wouldn't be long before they entered a friveless civil war and wiped each other out. Once that happened they would be able to completely subdue this world and earn a place beside the Queen of Hell.

They felt the air around them shift out of nowhere, and a darkness that was unusual even to them crept in. A group of them went to investigate the sudden atmospheric shift, but they quickly began howling in pain and fear. A large white hand gripped the skull of one and crushed it, and then a white and black blur flew by and ripped the flesh from their bones. The lone survivor tried to stand and mount a counter offensive, but his head was ripped from his neck in a bloody flash. The hallway was painted with the blood of the fallen demons, but there were still more waiting down the halls.

Rebecca had made short work of a group of five, but she was only getting started. Her eyes continued to glow as did her talon-like hands as she raised them into the air. Each room was filled with an immense pressure as she multiplied the gravity within each one. What demons weren't eradicated were forced to flee out into the open. She could feel their hate and confusion, but moreover there was a fear in the backs of their minds. Fear from a demon, a true delicacy if there ever was one. She glided down the hall as one by one hulking brutes barred their teeth at her and snarled. She let out a menacing chuckle as she simply raised one finger finger fired a beam of pure energy that ripped through the halls and their flesh. Ten demons were left lifeless on the floor as she continued to approach.

Some of them tried to launch a breath attack at her, but she deftly began floating in the air with her wings. She flew into a corkscrew maneuver with her wings acting as a shield while she did so. The fires of the demons' attacks did nothing to halt her approach, and she slashed at their throats with both hands in a flurry of swipes. Some tried to retreat, but she was too fast for them. A ghostly extension of her hands shot out and slammed them into the ground. She sent out a projection of herself throughout the complex, and through her metaphysical powers she found and dismantled the remaining groups.

She cackled as her voice boomed out throughout the halls, "Not even death can save you from me!"

Room by room, floor by floor she broke the bodies and souls of the demons who'd massacred her own people. She carefully placed some of their key remains in a pocket dimension she'd crested long ago as she went. Eyes, hearts, horns, and brains were all essential pieces to breaking down the door to Hell once and for all. All the while, she drank in their suffering and siphoned their souls into her own essence. She could feel the power starting to overflow within her, and so she decided to expel it in one final move. She let the energy flow outward in a massive wave that shook the building's foundation to its core. All that was left beyond the remains she'd stowed away were ichor from the monsters who'd dared to cross her.

She reverted back to her base human form as she walked out with one of the heads of a large demon in hand. Her people had gathered around the exit to see what was going on. The seven sisters she'd chosen so long ago were keeping the civilians away, but even they were curious to see what had happened. There was silence as she stepped out and held up the head of the demon, "This is the fate of all who oppose and threaten the order I bring! Whether they are of this world or the next, they will all fall before me. Whether they bend the knee or fall to the grave, I am all that shall remain. I am eternal! Know this, children, through me you all shall know eternity as well! Rejoice, for our kingdom is at hand!"

The streets erupted into cheers of pride at her words. She'd reminded them of why she was in charge, and while she hadn't lied, she had failed to mention that eternity was quite different from her own. Sooner or later, many would come to join Chelsea and Michael in the bowels of her power. There would be some that could retain their lives, but they were far and few between. In the end, they would serve a higher purpose whether they lived or died. Now, though, she was free to continue her preparations for Jake's return. It would be magnificent, and she was eager to see him again. Perhaps even Elizabeth and Pamela would come to their senses and submit once again. Time would tell, but if they resisted then she would make them submit. It was only a matter of time.
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