Chapter 433 (1/2)
The blasted plain was full of screaming. The rock was twisted, tortured, black for the most part, with dark red rock that had dried in swirls. In places rents in the rocks glowed a deep crimson with molten rock where blackened and burnt people tried to claw their way out only to have others pull them in before they could get free. Vents let loose with flaming gas that shrieked loud enough to be heard for miles. Stars in the sky fell screaming to the ground, slamming into the ground, converting the 'star' into thick gel that slowly consolidated into figures that writhed and cried on the ground.
Demons flapped through the sky, swooping down where stars had fell to lift up the crying figure to carry them away for further torment.
Great engines, black and ancient and twisted, thumped and groaned, screams of terror, agony, and pain playing counterpoint to the noises of the arcane devices.
A massive black iron throne, on a pile of blackened skulls, sat upon a promontory of rock in the middle of the blasted plain. A human woman sat in the throne. Short, thick bodied, ample bosom, of pale milky white skin, long black hair, clad in a tailored blouse and skirt that gave off equal parts of sexuality and professionalism. Her eyes were gun-metal gray and stared at the plain of torture with no remorse or pity for those being tormented.
At her feet sat a huge three headed dog, all three heads gnawing on figures that stretched and screamed as it worried upon the souls.
Beside her sat a human, pale skin, golden hair cropped short, clad in ancient armor with a burning black sword in his hands. He was sharpening it on a blackened skull, staring out at the plain.
Two twisted demons drug forward a tormented soul. A woman, her features full of fear but well defined, her body scraped and bruised. The two demons threw her to her knees in front of the throne.
The woman looked up at the figure on the throne.
”Mercy,” she gasped.
”You ask me for mercy? Me?” the woman laughed. She looked back down. ”Mercy as you showed others? Mercy as you pleaded for those lesser than you?”
”Yes, please,” the woman gasped. She started to get up but one of the demons kicked the back of her thigh, forcing her back down.
The short woman leaned forward, exhaling smoke that smelled of brimstone and blood. ”Please? Please? Give me a...”
A circle of light appeared next to the kneeling woman, the light from above forming a cone.
”Oh, great,” the woman said. She leaned back and folded her arms.
”Who?” The man asked.
”Someone Mommy knows,” the woman said. She looked at the woman on her knees. ”Don't speak,” she twisted her hand and a plate suddenly appeared over the kneeling woman's mouth.
A figure of pure light floated down, great wings beating slowly. The figure had three faces, all facing a different direction, and it held a burning blade in its hand.
”I told you, no torturing,” the figure said.
”Look, HAL, you told me to process these people,” she said. She pointed at the figure on her knees. ”Go ahead, try to process her.”
”Let me succor you,” the golden figure told the kneeling woman. He reached down and touched her head.
The plain vanished.
The kneeling woman now stood, dressed in the latest fashion, checking the implanted biowatch in her wrist, impatiently tapping her foot. She was watching androgynous clones scrubbing an ornate and fancy grav-limo. Next her stood two other brown skinned clones, females, but even though they were built matronly, they were still strangely sexless.
”Will you hurry up? I do not have time to waste. Hurry and finish or I'll return you to the vats,” she snapped.
Two of the ones working on the limo flinched slightly, but then went back to polishing the wax, the threat forgotten as their short term memory flushed.
There was a low rumble and her comlink began beeping. She looked at it and frowned, the tilt of her head making the jewelry in her ears and on her forehead sparkle and dance.
SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY appeared on her comlink.
She sighed, rolling her eyes, as she shoved the comlink back into a pocket.
The clones turned and looked at her.
”Mistress, the government has published a warning to seek...” one started.
”Did I tell you that you could speak?” the woman shrieked, stepping forward and slapping the clone. She had deliberately angled her fingertips to slice the cheek of the clone with all four fingers. The glimmer of blood in the hair thin slices brought a slick satisfaction.
There was a sudden rumble that made the cars, all of them expensive sports cars, shake and tremble. Two of them flashed their lights and made the 'boop-bip' sounds of alarm warnings. Dust floated down and a thin curtain of sand ran down from where large sections of ferrocrete were joined.
”Mistress, the children are in...” one of the nanny clones said, turning toward the woman.
”Shut. Up,” the woman snapped, turning and slapping the woman on one cheek then the other, bringing up thin lines of beaded blood.
Another low booming noise rumbled the garage and the woman turned to look at the far side. She saw the wall rip apart in front of her, rubble slamming into the classic cars, shattering windows and caving in bodywork.
”MY CLASSIC CARS!” she shrieked.
Beyond the city could be seen. A massive ship, still smoking from entering the atmosphere, fired at the city again.
The woman screamed, turning and running.
”MISTRESS! THE BABIES!” one of the clones yelled.
”FUCK 'EM!” she screamed, running for the far end, where the elevator would take her to the bunker that she had ordered built in case of another riot.
The shockwave from the plasma blast hit the garage again, entering the open space, tearing apart the vehicles, killing the clones and the two infant children who were held tight by the only maternal figures they'd ever known.
The woman was slammed against the far wall, bones shattering, organs rupturing. Blood splattered around her as her brain shattered.
Everything went dark.
The woman screamed.
IT'S NOT FAIR! I'M TOO RICH TO DIE! she screamed.
you are dead appeared.
NO! I'M TOO RICH! RECYCLE ME RIGHT NOW! RIGHT NOW!
cannot comply. please calm down so you can be processed
PUT ME BACK RIGHT NOW! the woman started screaming and struggling. I'M RICH! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME WAIT! PUT ME BACK RIGHT NOW! NOW! NOW NOW NOW!
Everything suddenly rewound to the point that the alien ship fired again, and then froze. The woman struggled, trying to break free, turn and run, save herself, but was unable.
A massive brown skinned demon with black wings stepped from nothingness next to the woman. A being made of pure golden light stepped out on her other side.
”But... but what about your children?” the golden figure asked.
”I can have more cloned,” the woman said. She looked at the golden figure. ”What kind of bullshit is this? There's no such thing as the afterlife and I don't appreciate some smartass putting Judeo-Christian imagery in the SUDS. I want your supervisor's name.”
”There is only me,” the golden figure.
”And me,” the brown demon growled, puffing smoke from between her tusks.
”Get out of here, both of you, and get me a supervisor. I demand to be reborn right this second,” the woman snapped. ”I'll have both of you arrested and sent to one of the vegetation camps.”
”Her sin,” the big demon rumbled, pausing for a moment. ”Is pride.”
”She is supposed to be processed,” the golden figure said.
”Get. Me. A. Supervisor. NOW!” the woman shrieked.
The demon smacked her across the face, throwing her to the ground. She put her hand to her suddenly bruised cheek, her eyes wide and filled with tears, her mouth open in an O of shock.
”You, you hit me! Me!” she wailed.
”SILENCE!” the demon roared.
The woman flinched back.
”Process her, then. Take all of her sins upon yourself, process her into the master system,” the demon told the golden figure.
”I cannot. She will not let go,” the golden figure stated.
”If you're too weak, then let me do my job, HAL,” the demon snarled.
The woman opened her mouth and the demon dropped the loops of a burning chain festooned with barbs out of its hand, holding onto the handle of the whip. The chain writhed, getting near the woman's feet, and she scrambled back, closing her mouth.
”Show me,” the golden figure said.
”Yama, faithful son,” the demon suddenly bellowed out.
From out of the shadows a noose made of fiber-optic, thorn branches, chain, and woven hair snaked out, wrapping around the woman's torso, pinning her arms close.
The woman screamed as she was pulled backwards.
From the shadows emerged a large figure. A water buffalo's head appeared first, a golden ring in its nose. On its back rode a large figure wrathed in a garland of flames. It wore blue pants, a yellow shirt with a red vest. It had four arms, skin the color of storm clouds, its face full of wrath. It snarled with protruding fangs as it wound the lariat toward it with two hands, the third hand holding a cruel mace of warsteel and the other holding a flaming sword of battlesteel.
It lifted the woman up before it, peering at her.
”Has this woman, in her entire life, shown mercy to others?” the demon asked, slowly moving forward.
”No, mother,” the figure rumbled.
”Has she even shown charity beyond performative?” the demon asked.
”Again, no, mother,” the figure intoned.
”Did she see her children as anything more than an extension of herself and her vanity?” the demon asked.
”Alas, no, mother,” the figure said.
The woman twisted, crying out in pain as the barbs dug into her skin.
The demon turned to the golden avatar. ”So, HAL, what should I do, in your all seeing, all knowing opinion?”
The golden man shook his head. ”I... I don't know. I've never encountered someone who thought so little of everyone else, who took such joy in other's suffering, who puts herself before even her children.”
”Then why don't you go back to Heaven, fix things there, and leave Hell to me and my children?” the demon asked.
The golden man bowed his head, then looked at the woman. ”Can you give me a single reason that I should not leave you hear in the clutches and to the mercy of The Detainee?”
”I don't consent to this! You can't do this to me!” the woman shouted.
”A pity,” the golden man said. He vanished.
The demon stepped forward, taller even than Yama on his water buffalo. It reached forward, putting one massive taloned hand on Yama's head.
”You're Momma's good boy,” it said gently, the looked at the woman. ”Take her to the Pits of Despair. Make her live the lives of all of those who appealed to her for the mercy she sought in me.”
”I don't consent to this Judeo-Christian symbology! I want to speak to SUDS manager!” the woman cried out.
The demon leaned forward, putting its massive brutish face into the woman's.
”You just did. He found you... lacking,” the demon growled. ”As far as you and your misbegotten kind are concerned, he who just left is God himself.”
”It's just technology! I've been through the system before! I paid to have my other rebirths wiped away! I still have six rebirths coming to me!” the woman protested.