Mag was euphoric. Those cursed eyes which had kept her chained to GeneCo for so long were finally destroyed. Even better, she'd destroyed them herself! After so long, she was finally free to do what she had wanted to do for years and years on end. Once she had finished singing her little swan song, she gouged those cursed eyes out, crushing them away into nothingness, her own grip on those eyes as hateful and powerful as GeneCo's grip on her had been. Mag had grinned like a madwoman, celebrating her freedom and triumph as those perfect little orbs became nothing more than a mushy mass of nothingness. She kept on squeezing, even after they had been obliterated. She was free! She won!
The ex-singer for GeneCo was totally deaf to the crowd below her. They cried out in terror and horror, for they had just witnessed their beloved Voice of GeneCo mutilate herself. A mix of grief and sympathy filled all of their hearts, but Mag did not care. In fact, she hardly noticed at all. Whatever they felt for her, or for her actions, was something she did not even consider. For once, she was only thinking about herself, and she was in paradise! Contrary to what the masses thought, Mag had never felt better, never felt freer. Just like the bird in her song! After so long enslaved, Mag had finally thrown off the golden chains that bound her to this sinful earth and she was free to fly amongst the Heavens again.
Suddenly, however, something changed. Mag felt herself fall. Where she once had been flying, suspended in midair by a complex set of cables and harnesses, there was suddenly nothing but gravity. She wasn't quite sure how those harnesses had failed her, but a tiny part of her mind was already blaming her cruel and monstrous boss. No doubt, he had done something to cause them to fail, to cause her to fall, but she would never know for sure though, because the fall was stopped rather abruptly by a spiked fence right beneath her. She died upon impact, one of the barbs of the fence skewering right through her. The triumphant and liberated smile was still frozen upon her bloody and eyeless face.
Hours later, the poor fools who were assigned to clean up Mag's corpse could only stare in horror and confusion at that smile, still etched upon her face. They simply could not understand why Mag was so happy. Why was she smiling after suffering such a horrible and painful death? Well, had Mag been able to, she would've replied with 6 simple words:
"It's always prettiest after the fall."
But although Mag's time on Earth was done, her time in existence was not. Not even close. Instead, the eyeless woman woke up again, though this world was cast in total darkness. The moment she woke up, although she had no idea where she was at all, she could already sense that this place was some place new to her. And it wasn't just new in the sense that it was a world to which she had never traveled before, but that it was a place entirely beyond her previous realm of existence. This might've seemed like an outrageous conjecture, but Mag was certain she was in another world entirely. Maybe it was just the atmosphere, but Mag knew for sure that neither she, nor anybody else she knew, had been here before.
"Hello?" she tried at once as she came to. "Is anyone there?" she waited for a reply, but nothing. This new, strange world was as quiet as it was dark. But then suddenly, just as Mag prepared to call out once more, a stage light illuminated her world. Suddenly, she could see. And at the same time the light illuminated her eyes, memories illuminated her mind. After only being aware of her existence in a new location, she could suddenly remember all of the events that led to her being here. She remembered everything! Her birth, her blindness, the surgery that cured it, the slavery that followed the surgery, and the brutal death she'd forced upon herself in order to escape the bondage. All of it came back to her in that one split second of literal and figurative illumination...
But wait a minute! Hadn't she gouged her eyes out right before she died? If that were the case, why was she suddenly able to see again? Had someone give her more new eyes? Or was she going crazy? Both were equally likely at this point. Mag carefully raised a hand and traced her fingers across her eyelids. There was nothing behind them. Her eyes were still gone. And she thought she could even feel what must've been dried blood right at the rims of her eyes. So she really had gouged them out... But then, why was she able to see? What was going on? Who had given her this gift of sight again? This was impossible...
"You don't need eyes to see," a voice suddenly answered her thoughts. "Didn't they call you 'Blind Mag' despite your functional eyes?"
"Who are you?" Mag asked warily, dropping her hand from her eye (socket) in surprise. Despite the spotlight's glare, it did not reach very far in width and she was unable to see the man talking to her. She had assumed she was alone, so to hear his voice caught her very off guard. His voice was low and smooth, and he didn't sound evil or threatening, but Mag wasn't stupid enough to believe he was entirely harmless. She was alert at once, already tensed in case this man meant her harm.
"The better question is, who are you?" came the reply. He fell silent and Mag assumed she was supposed to answer. She really wasn't in the mood for philosophical questions such as this, but she figured she wasn't in a place to bargain so she went along with it. She had a feeling she was going to be here awhile anyway.
"You've answered it yourself," she said. "I'm Blind Mag."
"Are you really?" the voice asked again, enunciating the last word.
Despite herself, Mag shuddered a little. In that one simple question, Mag realized that she just might be dealing with someone who knew her better than anyone else, even her own self. She managed to force out another reply, taking this question of identity a bit more seriously. She still had no idea who she was talking to, but she sensed that he had an immense and unimaginable power behind him. She didn't exactly want to put that to the test, especially not right now.
"I used to be," she amended, voice serious now.
"Then who are you now?" the voice asked again, still unreadable as ever.
"I don't know," Mag confessed.
"But I do," the voice replied sincerely, then he felt silent yet again.
Mag knew he wanted her to ask. He wanted her to play into his hand, succumb to her curiosity, and ask him. She thought she could even feel a kind of smug pride radiating off of where he must've been. He wanted this. He wanted her to play his game, to submit to him. This was only the first of his little tests. Would she take the bait, cave, and ask? No. She didn't want to. She didn't want to know the answer to this particular question. Not anymore. Besides, it seemed that all of the other identities she had claimed over her life had all ended in tragedy. Her very first identity was a common blind girl. Not very fun. The second, her more famous one, was a worker for the Devil himself.
"And so you shall be again," the voice rumbled with a hint of sadistic humor, reading Mag's thoughts again.
"What do you mean?" Mag asked, hoping that whoever it was didn't mean what she was starting to think he meant.
"You are The Songbird," the man replied. "I have seen you in life, I know you will do well in this role. You will sing for me, my angel of music."
"So I suppose you'll want me to sing your praises so you can lure people to their eternal punishment?" Mag laughed bitterly. So she was in Hell. And this was the Devil. Mag supposed it was all she deserved now. And what better way to torture her than to force her to die the way she lived?
"No. You'll be singing to warn them away from the liars of the world who would lead them to death," the Devil replied. This threw Mag for a loop. Wasn't this supposed to be her punishment? Then why did the Devil sound like he really wanted her to help save the condemned? "But they will not listen here either," he added almost ruefully.
"Then why bother?" Mag snorted, too used to life's horrors to pity those who didn't heed the evil around them. Though she still didn't understand why she was being offered this spot in Hell, her dark sense of humor still lived on and she was not scared of the man before her. Not after she had served someone just like him for 17 years in a row.
"Why not?" came the reply. Mag could almost hear the smirk in his voice again. "I am giving you a chance to do as you have always wished. How long have you wanted your voice to speak words of truth and warning instead of honeyed lies? How long have you wanted to give your sight to the blind? Will you really turn your back on that desire now that it is finally within your grasp?" the Devil trailed off temptingly.
"But if they won't listen, I'll just lose them anyway," Mag argued. Finally, something akin to sadness entered her voice. Hardened as her heart was, Mag was not incapable of genuine empathy for the lost. The idea of trying to save people from their sins was a tempting one, as the Devil was proposing, as counter to theology as that seemed. But if it was true that no one would heed her warnings, would she be able to bear the constant disappointment of losing every person she ever met? Would she be able to bear an eternity of failed salvations after failing to survive 17 years?
"Perhaps I misspoke. Not every person who hears your song will be lost," the Devil amended. "And if it is a companion you are craving, then I shall give you one," he added. Suddenly, the sound of something fluttering echoed the dark chamber in which Mag and the Devil were speaking in. A black mass of feathers landed gracefully on Mag's shoulder and as it settled down, Mag got a better look at it. It was a large blackbird of some kind. It cawed at her as her eyeless sockets inspected it.
"But why me?" Mag asked finally. "What's so special about me? Why did you choose me? Why do you want me? And what about the others? I wasn't worried about my own companionship, I meant to ask what will happen to those who don't listen to me? Do you really think they'll get used to an eternity in a place like this?" Mag gestured helplessly to the all-encompassing darkness that surrounded both herself and the Devil. Meanwhile, she couldn't help but wonder once more how anyone, even herself, could survive forever in a place like this. She had barely lasted 17 years of imprisonment on Earth, but if Hell was eternal...?
"I chose you simply because I chose you," the Devil replied in response to the first slew of Mag's question. "There is nothing special about you except that which I choose to make special."
"And the others?" Mag demanded.
"They will get used to it, because it is all they have," Mag could almost hear the shrug in the Devil's voice and she couldn't help but find herself deeply unsatisfied with the answer. So that was it? One way or the other, this was it? This was the final stop? Take it or leave it, this was it? There was something too defeating about that idea that regardless of one's own desires, this was the very last stop. It reminded her too much of her time under GeneCo, but at least then, escape had been an option. But now?
"That sounds horrible," Mag murmured at last, disgust fading into pity, sadness and hopelessness.
"Perhaps. But you will get used to it too," the Devil promised, as though to reassure her.
"How can you be so sure?" Mag asked tiredly. The blackbird on her shoulder cawed once more and huddled closer to its new mistress.
"Because," the Devil replied. "It's always prettiest after the fall…"
AN: Got inspired to write this after watching Alleluia and noting parallels between Heaven and GeneCo and thinking that Mag literally took a fall from Grace in order to free herself from God/Rotti. Of course, that pun of "After the Fall" regarding Mag's Fall culminated in this little fic wherein Mag joins the Carnival. (I imagine their meeting to look like the into to "In All My Dreams I Drown" where it's just the Devil talking to the newest Carnival member in the darkened ring, just one on one and face to face (sort of, since it's dark)).
Edit: As of 9/19/18, I updated this story because inquiete brought it to my attention again and I realized how crappy the grammar was. In my defense, I wrote this story in like my freshman year of high school. I've gotten better since and am trying to fix it up again. Nothing really changed, I just made it a tad longer, better and cleaner. Thanks again to inquiete for reading! You're the best!
