Chapter 1: The Return Home

John Vanderbilt had been gone for two years from Sanctum One, or the first sanctuary. He had never been in a radiation suit before, nor stepped beyond the boundary into the world outside, still quite fetid with radioactive chemicals from the apocalyptic blasts back in 2019 – now, it was 2032, and the outside world beyond the sanctuaries were not going to change until every inhabitant was long dead. He had been sent on a mission, orders of the Queen and King, to make the population of Sanctum Two, the sanctuary in Texas, more diverse and possibly add demonic spawn to their population as well. His rulers could have very easily sent sperm to the Cooperative branch at that sanctuary to artificially inseminate any women of childbearing age, but John wanted to actually go and experience the outside world and meet other people; with this came his favorite thing of all – sex. There was more than enough of this to indulge in to go around, but not by much. The second sanctuary, mostly with survivors who made the cut from the outpost in Bora Bora, was only populated to just over a hundred people when he got there. Two years later, it spiked by sixteen more citizens because of John's tendency to be always horny and the women more than willing to lay in bed with him. He already had seven back at Sanctum One, some of whom were approaching adulthood by his return, so his total progeny amounted to twenty-three.

Of course, John did not look at all like he was the biological father to twenty-three children. He was thirty by what the eyes could tell, but in actuality, he was ten. That was one of the curses of being half-demon; John aged at an accelerated rate compared to normal humans. He didn't mind it too much, though; after all, he was still very handsome. He had been when he was younger at five or six, but at ten, it was like he got better with age, like a fine wine. His flaxen blond hair was clipped short and neatly, and unlike when he was younger, he did not put gel in it anymore to tame it. It was like he let his inner beast free. It was tousled in the front, drawing some attention to his hazel eyes and the distinctive red eyeshadow he was ordered to wear, along with his half-siblings, to signify his status as Demon. His face was chiseled, and his body was perfectly formed in a masculine, muscular shape standing at six-foot-two. He wondered if the twins, Hunter and Axel, had returned from their identical mission to Sanctum Three in Virginia – he missed them. He missed everyone, in fact.

Upon his return, he paid a visit to the compound where Their Infernal Excellencies, Queen Melanie and her devoted consort King Elijah, resided with their children, the Prince and Princess of Regnum Infernale. He had used transmutation to get up to the front door, where he knocked loudly. He heard footsteps on the other side, where a young man with soft handsomeness looked at him at almost eye-level – he looked to be roughly eighteen or nineteen years of age, and the first thing John noticed was his long, light brown hair in a perfect wave down toward the ends of his strands. He had a healthy complexion, light blue eyes, and a striking smile that greeted him.

"Uncle John?" he asked; his voice could have been that of a woman's, it was so soft.

"Ah, Anathem," the older man said with a smile, outstretching his hand for a firm handshake. Anathem was the Prince and heir apparent to the throne after Melanie and Elijah were unable to rule anymore. I can't believe it, he thought to himself, the boy is practically a girl, look at him. He also has no defects. Why are humans more affected by incest than we are?

"You've returned," the Prince said. "I…I have to go tell Mother and Father at once. Come in!"

Once entering the royal suite, his eyes looked around the room before he saw the smiling face of a younger female, a girl who looked to be about thirteen or fourteen with long, straight light blonde hair, fair skin, with feline-shaped blue-green eyes that tended to change color. She was also very short, standing around five feet, and had a petite frame and a very familiar diamond-shaped face. Her smile was striking, like Anathem's, as she ran up to her uncle to hug him. Her name was Desdemona, the Princess.

"Uncle John! You're back! How was Sanctum Two?" she asked excitedly between a squeeze around her uncle's hard body.

"Ah, it's was great," he winced, letting her go. "The experience of a lifetime." He paused and looked at his niece. "How old are you now?"

"Four and a half," she answered.

"You sure don't look it," John chuckled, "but then again, with us? We never look our age." He looked at Anathem. "And you?"

"Six."

"Oh my, you're gonna be a man soon."

"I believe I already am," Anathem answered back with annoyance.

"So where are Their Infernal Excellencies?" John questioned.

"At some Cooperative meeting," Desdemona said with a shrug of indifference. "You can stay if you want. Go sit."

John took the invitation from his niece and sat down on the lounge chair that directly faced the kitchen area in the open concept. This suite was once inhabited by the fallen king, Michael, the Antichrist prophesized to destroy and take over the world, and his wife, Queen Misty. This was the very same place where he had assisted Elijah just over five years ago in avenging the unjust killing of Melanie after Michael also killed the Queen – yet he had been killed by the King in the process and brought back to life by Melanie, who was brought back by Elijah with vitalum vitalis. He watched as Desdemona reached up into the cupboard to get a glass an empty filtering pitcher from the cupboard, and that is when he snapped his fingers.

"Dessi," he said, catching her attention, leaning forward and putting his elbows nonchalantly on his knees. "Set those down on that table over there."

"Why?"

"I want to show you something cool," he said with a smirk and wink. "Don't fill the pitcher, either."

"Uncle John, what are-"

He resorted to using intention to get her to do what he wanted: "Desdemona, please set that on the table. Do not fill the pitcher. I will not break your precious glass."

Desdemona, as if in a trance, was silent and placed the empty pitcher and glass on the table as he instructed. Anathem covered his mouth off to the side as he started to laugh – John had used concilium, and he knew because he possessed the same ability as well. So naïve, he thought.

"Good girl," he praised. "Now…" He raised both of his hands in the air, directed at the objects. "Watch closely."

Anathem and Desdemona looked on to watch their uncle effortless lift the cup and pitcher off the table and swiftly into his hands. They gasped as he progressed to look into the pitcher and fill it with what looked to be water. There was none on his hands, and he smiled when it was full before pouring himself a glass. The Prince went over to his uncle with an amazed look on his soft face.

"That was awesome!" he exclaimed. "How did you learn that?"

"I have experienced some growth while I was away. Aside from my mission, I had to occupy my time somehow," John said, taking a sip of the water he conjured in the cup. "So, I put that focus on myself and my powers."

"Well, what can you do?" Desdemona asked.

"Ah… I already had transmutation, pyro, and divination skills. The last one I actually improved a lot more when I was away. What you just witnessed was hydrokinesis. I can manipulate water as well as other liquids. Telekinesis, also quite obvious from what you saw." He looked at his niece, and she looked at him strangely: "Desdemona, I used something on you just now. Can you tell me what it was?"

"On me?" she questioned.

"You idiot," Anathem said rudely, "he coerced you to put the pitcher and cup down because you wouldn't comply."

"Very good, but I did not ask you," John said, pointing his finger to his nephew.

"She doesn't know much about powers, Uncle John," Anathem justified. "I have what you have, so I obviously know. She's a little girl."

"Shut up, you!" Desdemona barked. "I am not a little girl!"

John rolled his eyes: "not anymore."

Just then, the front door of the open concept flew open, revealing two familiar faces; one man and one woman, dressed in finery a step above business casual. The man had his gloved hand raised as he entered, and the doors seemed to shut by themselves behind them. The woman was clad in a red pantsuit consisting of a fire engine-red blazer and matching pants with a black button-up shirt underneath. Her golden curls were perfectly tamed in a chignon adorned with ruby clips to keep it in place. On her inner eye sockets she wore a much-heavier variant of the red eyeshadow worn by the Demon class in Regnum Infernale. She looked to physically be thirty-nine, but in reality she was thirteen. This was Her Infernal Majesty, Queen Melanie.

By her side was a strikingly handsome man with neatly-combed dark brown hair; in some light it looked black as night. At first glance, anyone would be frightened of him, but deep down, he was a sensitive, romantic sort. His eyes were piercing, able to penetrate through the very soul with their glacial blue color. His skin was fair, like that of the Queen, and he had high cheekbones and a defined jawline. In fact, if one were to put a painting or photo of King Michael, the previous regnant, next to one of him, they looked almost identical. Even though he was in actuality ten years old, he had the appearance of a thirty-year-old human man. He was clad in all-black save for the antiquated red scarf that hung gracefully around his neck and down to his ebony suit, and on his hands, he wore black leather gloves. He looked powerful, and even felt powerful, lighting up the room with his inhuman vibrations. This was His Infernal Majesty, King Elijah. At their presence, John stood up and smiled grandly at them, and Melanie was the first to respond.

"John, you've returned. How was your journey home?" she said, extending her hand out to him. He used transmutation to get closer to his royals, bowing to them and taking Melanie's hand into his, kissing it. Elijah gave him a side-eye and stood silently.

"It was quite tiring, but I'm here! All in one piece," John smirked. He looked over at Elijah, "and how are you, my King?"

"Just fine, thanks." He sounded demure, but there was power in his silence.

"You must be absolutely famished," Melanie said. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Would I?" John asked, taking his Queen up on her offer.

"Splendid."

Elijah was not very keen on having an extra dinner guest that evening, but if it made Melanie happy, then that was all that mattered to him. He stiffed his upper lip and endured a lengthy, unusually-sumptuous dinner with John as well as his two children. They had a five-course meal, prepared by two cooks who came three times daily specifically for the purpose of preparing meals for their royals. For that evening, the cooks procured a fine wine from the Cooperative's reserves. It was aged over the course of 125 years, since 1907 in France. For the soup, they were served chicken hearts in a thick, stew-liked broth. John particularly enjoyed that dish. There was strawberry sorbet made from freshly-harvested crop from the sanctuary as a palate cleanser before the main course, which was raw beef heart minced in a cold pie with vegetables and other pluck from the cow that was killed for their meal. Elijah's moodiness subsided a little after three glasses of wine, but he was still silent, taking in his surroundings like he normally did. He was more so in disbelief at the turn of events that led John to being granted a title and privileged enough to sit at the royal dinner table. As children, John brutally bullied Elijah, and the two had an intense rivalry until Melanie helped him exact revenge on his adversary. He had brought him back to life in his very first attempt at vitalum vitalis, and John eventually became an ally to him. Due to his blood ties to the royals, he and their other half-siblings were given the title Archduke or Archduchess of the House of Langdon. It was merely for show, however; none of them or their progeny were in line for the throne.

"So why did you go to Sanctum Two?" Desdemona asked, taking a sip of her wine as she ate.

"To make babies, Dessi," Anathem teased.

"I didn't ask you."

"Yes, that's why," John said, answering Anathem. I wonder if they gave Dessi 'the talk' yet, he thought; Melanie read every word his soul conveyed.

"Actually, no," she said, replying as if he spoke; he was a bit spooked but not surprised. "We haven't given her that talk yet."

"I don't know when she will even be ready for such a conversation," Elijah said, taking a hefty sip of his wine.

"Adulthood," Melanie stated. "When she is ready."

"I concur," Elijah agreed submissively. "She's only four and a half, she doesn't need to know what goes on in that situation just yet."

"It does vary, Father. Men with men is different," Anathem giggled. "I'd know."

"You're in line to be King one day," John said. "You won't have a Queen?"

"I hate women," the Prince said crudely. "All except for my mother and sister."

Melanie rolled her eyes as Elijah gave his input: "my son, there is so much to love about women, so many things to admire. I have no problem regarding your preference toward men but keep your misogyny to yourself."

"Hey, why not there be two Kings when we are gone?" Melanie proposed, holding her glass of wine before sipping it gracefully. "Or even two Queens for that matter? Hell only knows this isn't the old world and does not in any way, shape, or form need to be like that."

"Your father is right. Women are amazing creatures, if I do say so myself," John said with a wink to his half-brother at one head of the table.

"Uh," Desdemona raised her hand gingerly, "could I be excused?" She paused. "I'm full."

"You are? Already?" Elijah asked his daughter. "Are you sure you have no room left for dessert?"

"I can skip that tonight, Father."

"Very well," he smiled as his daughter rose to her feet. "Take your plate and clean it. Spotless, please."

"Yes, Father," she said, leaning down to kiss his cheek affectionately before making her way to the sink.

Anathem was still seated at the table, but it took him a half hour to finish his main course. Then, dessert was served, which consisted of raspberry ice cream drizzled in chocolate syrup, a luxury only accessible to their class of people as there was not very much of it left in the world at all. This was a night to celebrate the safe return of John through the dangerous world on the outside of the sanctuaries, having to travel for five days straight just about to get back from Sanctum Two. He excused himself so that John, Melanie and Elijah could be alone. The cooks had left, and after a three-hour feast, the royals were ready to bring on their praises along with their next proposition for what he could do in the sanctuary.

"My Queen and I have read about the population boom over there," Elijah said with a nod. "We are quite pleased with the progress."

"I'm glad I could please," John said, taking a sip of his seventh glass of wine. "Say, did Hunter and Axel make it back yet?"

"They did," Melanie said. "They returned two days ago. They left rather early from Sanctum Three. It took them eight days to return. They've been exhausted ever since."

"I can imagine. This is the first real food I've had since my last dinner at Sanctum Two," he said; he paused for a moment, feeling an intuitive impression. "Your Infernal Excellencies, I do have a couple of questions, if I may. Just so I can catch up on what's happened here in Sanctum One."

"Go ahead," Melanie said, listening along with her consort.

"Firstly, how have things been? Who's been appointed to what?" he asked.

"As you knew before you left us," Melanie explained, "Ashley was appointed as High Priestess of our Reformed Church of Satan."

"Every Black Mass is something else. It's added a whole new dimension to our kingdom, for those who could attend in person," Elijah said. "They are heavily inspired by the Laveyan rituals, but… we've put our own spin on them."

"Sacrifice?"

"Not always," Melanie said in response to John's inquiry. "When they do happen, Ashley can eat any organ she wants from the sacrifice."

"What about the other sanctuaries? Will they have a Reformed Church of Satan?"

"We cannot force religion, now, John," Melanie said, putting down her glass of wine. "That caused a ton of problems in the old world that frankly I do not want to see in the new. Our subjects are encouraged to listen to the Black Mass on the radio or pick up a copy of the Satanic Bible, but we cannot force them. As long as they are loyal to this kingdom, they may live in peace."

"My Queen has wonderful foresight," Elijah said with praise, reaching to hold Melanie's hand on the table. "She knows more about the old world than I do, and so far, things have been quite peaceful here."

"What about Isla? Lydia?"

"Isla is working on a new study involving demon spawn. I do not know the details yet, but it is extensive. Most every child of demonic heritage is taking part in it. Only two hours a day, Monday to Friday, for the next year or so," the Queen told him. "As for Lydia, as well as Hunter and Axel because this pertains to them as well… she is part of the proposition we have for you."

"Hm," John said, sucking his teeth after his next sip of wine. "I had a feeling. Does it by chance have anything to do with the demon youth of our fine kingdom?"

Melanie's eyes widened, and she nodded: "I'm impressed, John."

"So, am I right?"

"Yes. Elijah and I have considered that you, along with Lydia, Axel and Hunter would be the primary instructors for the newly-imposed Azazel Academy for Gifted Youth," she clarified. "We are hoping that you will accept this opportunity to teach and guide our demonic class to know more about their powers and help them grow in whatever areas they wish."

"A school, huh?" he asked.

"Yes," Elijah added. "Not to toot my horn but… I wish I had someone to actually teach me in a school setting with experience when I was younger. I had my Queen to teach me most of it, but consider it giving our youth something we never had. We had to learn by life's trials and errors to discover our abilities as well as who and what we were."

"Let's not fail to add that we've had a few reports of demon children running amok and killing unsuspecting passersby," Melanie said. "This will be a good way to keep them in line. We have had to send poor Dessi to bring them back to life at the Clinic."

"She can do that?" John asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh yes. She's had the power since she was about two, the power of resurgence. That was around the same time I discovered I had it myself. My mother and father had it before me, as well," the Queen said. "She also can manipulate illusions, like my father could, she conjures things into existence or from a faraway place, and… I don't think anything else has developed yet. She is still so young."

John thought for a moment, slouching back in his seat – not a bad idea, he thought as Melanie read every word, after all, a good chunk of them are my children.

"Indeed. For those you haven't met yet, consider it an opportunity to bond with them," Melanie said as though he spoke.

"Ah, yes… I accept," he said. "It is my duty, an honor and a privilege."

With that, he confirmed his status by putting his hand over the open rim of his wine glass, concentrating and filling it up effortlessly with wine using whatever was already left in there. Elijah's eyes lit up, and he looked as his Queen, who was the first to say something.

"Your powers seem to have grown," she said.

"Indeed, they have. Unlike what you may think, I didn't spend the entire two years chasing pussycats."

We made the right decision, Melanie thought, now we just need to see how it goes.

A/N:

I was very hesitant to write a sequel/follow-up because I feared the third story would not be a fanfiction, or much of one, anymore because it is mostly OCs. However, I've come up with a great idea to tie it all together in more or less a fashion like the canon of Apocalypse.

Please Favorite, Follow, and leave a Review telling me what you think, as well as any suggestions as I am open to ideas as always! Stay tuned!