I don't own the Bible (and all Bible characters whose names are mentioned in this fic), and although I don't know who does, I'm sure they would, upon seeing this fic, strenuously deny any relationship between the Bible and it.
I don't own Evelyne, my friend Antonia (aka Antoinette Veronica) does.
This fic is dedicated to my friend Antonia, who loves angels and knows a great deal about them, and has read everything from Paradise Lost to Angel Sanctuary. Thank you for giving me so much inspiration and information on angelic entities to write, I would never have written all this crazy stuff without you (not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but, we'll see).
The Destruction of Sodom & Gomorrah
It was another perfect day in Heaven. The seraphim were going on with another round of Hallelujah, hoping enthusiastically to improve the pitch or harmony, and the cherubim were singing Ave Maria in a loud, sincere voice that would have seriously embarrassed even the most devout churchgoer. Everywhere angels were looking angelic and the place was filled with the kind of laughter that would have been highly disturbing on earth. And Archangel Michael was trampling on a demon. It was a very important part of his job and therefore he had been rehearsing it all night. His duty was to vanquish the forces of evil, and, since demons were immortal, this had presented certain problems. Destroying them was equivalent to hitting dust bunnies under a bed: they may disappear for a while and come back in even choking amounts. So Michael had come up with a different approach.
"Admit it, you slimy and detestable worm," He said coldly. "You have been beaten fairly."
"Not that I care…" Quavered the demon.
"Because," Michael took a deep breath and continued smugly. "1) I let you make the 1st move. 2) I did not sneak up on you while you were looking the other way. 3) I refrained from kicking, biting or clawing you in any of your undesirable parts. 4) I did not strike you while you were lying helpless, but waited for you to get up again. 5) I was outnumbered. 6) I did not resort to cheap tricks like saying 'Hey, look what's behind you!' and put an end to your worthless life while you look behind. 6) When you dropped your weapon, I handed you one, remember? So what have you got to say to that?"
"OK, you are right. Now finish me off…" Said the demon impatiently.
"You didn't even deserve to challenge me, you good-for nothing, incompetent creature." Affirmed Michael. "But I still took you on, do you wish to know why?"
"Can I die now?" Said the demon hopefully.
"It is my divine duty to deal with boring, stuck up losers like you." Answered Michael. "You are just a fringe of the broad expanse of my daily delegations, so for me victory is nothing to scream about. You didn't even give a very interesting fight. I was tempted to fight you with my hands tied, but that would be taking my responsibilities too lightly. So I was just compelled to treat you as an equal for a while."
"Are you done? I'm still waiting for that blade." Agreed the demon pathetically.
"Do you know what I would like to do to you now?" Continued Michael relentlessly. " I could give you the uttermost torture that even Hell has not yet devised, but I won't do that, of course. 'Cause I am the good guy, so I will have to let you go generously. Not because I hope that you will thank me, of course. If I was not bounded by my principals of virtue you would be ground under my heel like the despicable filth you are. Actually, filth ranked higher than you. It's flatter, to start with…"
"Bu-u-u-t you are already grinding me…" Said the demon, hoping that he'd take the hint. Michael ignored him.
"In fact, you don't even deserve to have me standing on you. But I shouldn't look offended, of course, 'cause 'tis my duty and I'm not supposed to complain about such insignificant matters. Gosh, what am I going on about? Back to the first issue, worm. Now, even though you have not begged for mercy---"
"Well, I'm after mercy-killing, actually…" Started the demon.
"---I will still spare your life mercifully." Finish Michael politely. His voice could etch words in glass. "And I will let you walk away with dignity. You don't have any, I know. But there are rules on my side that I shouldn't be too hard on enemies---"
"I would love to try for hard---" Muttered the demon to itself mournfully.
"---And rules are rules. Now I shall forgive all your sins even though you didn't ask for it, because the Lord encourages it and you are just one of those undeserving, lucky individuals who happen to have a lot of them. I won't even expect you to be grateful---"
"For love of Heaven, I'd be most grateful if you could just put me out of my misery---" Begged the demon.
"---And I will now let you leave peacefully and end this fight on a friendly note, because that's what good guys are supposed to do, not that I'm expectin' you to run back and beseech for redemption, mind."
He stepped off coolly. If there was a myth in Hell that good was equal to nice, Michael was prepared to dispel it. His new technique had worked like a miracle and even those demons who had been known to possess a limitless amount of self esteem stopped coming back to challenge him after the treatment. Except Satan the Adversary, he supposed. Contrary to Michael, who refrained from all dirty tricks during a duel, the Serpent used all of them and would even grovel on the ground and wave a white handkerchief when all else failed, as long as he had a chance to stab Michael's feet. If Michael wanted to trample his pride, Satan had proved that there was enough of it to drown Michael.
Back on the ground, the demon scrambled up and unscrewed its head. It turned out to be one of Michael's subordinates, Evelyne, wearing a monster suit.
"Um, commander?" Said Evelyne wretchedly, stretching her cramped parts. "That's enough practicing, I suppose?"
"No, let's do it one more time. I need to get it really right." Insisted Michael.
Evelyne nodded expressionlessly. She had nothing to complain about, really. All the practicing had at least convinced her that she was extremely lucky to be an angel. At that moment, Michael heard a trumpet call outside. It sounded just like the trumpet call on Mt. Sinai, the trumpet call that summoned the armies of Heaven and the trumpet call that would be used during Apocalypse, but insiders could somehow tell the difference. "Stay here. God is calling me to go to him." Said Michael, and rushed out.
Michael's summoner turned out to be Christ, not God. God seldom summoned anyone. If he wanted you to do something, you would do it, somehow, without even knowing about it. Michael had always felt that He was damned inconsiderate. Now, Christ was a totally different matter. There was a sense of duty and responsibility involved…
"Michael, as you know, Sodom and Gomorrah will be destroyed at sunrise." He said. There seemed to be a hint of anxiety in his voice.
"Yes, Lord. That is Archangel Uriel's area of ministration, I believe, he's in charge of the heavenly fires."
"Well, we can't find him. He has vanished without a trace. No one has even seen him leave the place." Admitted Christ.
"We can ask God for advice, I am sure." Said Michael confidently, completely in control of the situation.
"The trouble is, we can't find Him either." Said Christ with forced calmness.
'But," Michael made a vague wave with his hand. "God is everywhere, isn't He?"
"In that case, He is everywhere but here." Said Christ, a trifle testily. "The last thing we heard about was that He had a talk with Abraham in the morning, then He went to take a look at Sodom."
"Perhaps Archangel Gabriel and Archangel Raphael should know? They were helping Lot evacuate from Sodom last night."
"They haven't returned, for some reason." Said Christ. "I suspect that all these things have a connection with Sodom. Some kind of divine mystery, perhaps? So, Archangel Michael---"
"Yes, Lord?"
"I want you to go down there to find Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, and, if possible, God. The ethereal plane there is rather cluttered with demons, I'm afraid, so you should find your way around more easily in mortal form. You have 3 human hours till sunrise. If you can't find them, I'll send in a squad of destroying angels anyway."
"Understood, Lord!" Said Michael promptly. He suddenly paused in his tracks. "But Lord, I suppose you can tell me what God looks like first?" He said meekly.
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No one could remember what God looked like, not even Abraham, who saw God in the flesh. He could only recall, vaguely, someone whose face and movements he could not, for the Hell of it, quite remember. He could remember the angels, Gabriel and Raphael, quite well. They were apparently angels, as seen from the way they lurched around as if they thought that gravity should do the walking for them, and the way they went all over-excited when he offered them some food.
What God did in the night was therefore known only to Himself. He walked around the city to see if it was indeed as wicked as His Son had told him, but felt nothing whatsoever. To Him, Good and Evil were just 2 teams of a game of which He was the referee. As for what the team names stood for, what each side believed in and why they hated each other so much, these were still mysteries to God. Fortunately, this did not prevent Christ from telling God what was the right thing to do (even though it often took a lot of explaining) and Christ, God reflected, was always right. So whatever God thought about Sodom, it would not change the fact that the city would be annihilated from the face of the earth a few hours later.
His, for want of a better word, Thoughts were interrupted by a dull, mechanical voice. It came from a lady of the street leaning against the wall. Sodomers were generally night people. Only burglars work during the day. "Wanna have a bit of fun with me tonight, lovie?" Her voice indicated that she had been repeating the sentence faithfully for a hundred times and had got rather used to being ignored. God, however, didn't ignore people.
Yes?
The prostitute's mouth moved silently as if she was trying to recall the next phrase. She did it. "Meet me at the Green Parrot's at 2 a.m.." She said. "And I'll give you the time of your life. Free drinks for any extra people you bring along!"
God thought about it. No one had ever talked to Him like that before, so it was quite an experience. Plus, He never refused people.
Very well. He said. After all, it was not as if anyone in Heaven particularly needed Him. They all had their own ideas of running the universe.
The woman gave Him a long, blank stare, and forgot about Him when she couldn't focus on His face.
But God did not forget about His appointment. For the mean time, He decided to spend the rest of the night touring Sodom. There was no need to tell His Son about this. He was bound to have some pretty funny opinions.
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The 2 main deities of Sodom, Satan and Belial, were sitting in a back alley, also clad in human form. It helped them to experience life in the city so that they could spot areas capable of improvement (from the point of view of evil) more conveniently. Although the back alleys were usually fully booked at this time of night for various activities like drug trafficking, clan wars and gang raping, they had nothing to worry about because they had bought some estates near the city square, and so was entitled to a private alley.
They seemed to be comparing some notes, completely unaware of the fact that Sodom would be razed to the ground by daylight. The problem at hand was about a wrestling match due to take place at early morning. The match was between a worshipper of Satan and a worshipper of Belial. The 2 clans had been at feud for decades because the demons encouraged it. Nothing kindles faith as efficiently as bloody, pointless battles for religious supremacy, they claimed.
"Now you're telling me," Said Satan. "That you promised this follower of yours that you'll let him win the match---"
"Well, he called on me," Protested Belial. "So naturally I promised him. That's what I'm for! Anyway, someone's got to win at a match."
"I know that," Said Satan irritably. "The fun thing is, my follower invoked me an hour ago to make me grant him supernatural powers so that he could come out on top, and I said yes."
"You can choose not to keep your promise." Suggested Belial.
"Then no-one will worship me!" Shrilled Satan.
"There can be a re-match." Said Belial.
"Let's just have them fight to the death." Said Satan. "By the way, what powers are you gonna give that fellow of yours?"
"Vampiric ones. Standard issue."
"Same with me. They should be pretty evenly matched. Case closed. Let's get there early and grab some decent seats."
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The archangels Gabriel and Raphael, having spent the whole night harrassing Lot and his family until they had left, were now standing at the city gates. "Phew!" Said Gabriel in relief. "Do'y think we have time left to pick up some souvenirs?"
"Look behind you, Gabriel," Said Raphael nervously. They were once again surrounded by a mob. Many eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Do something or we'll be picking up a terminal case of syphilis."
Gabriel waved his hand impressively to strike them with blindness, but to his surprise, nothing happened. "Un-oh." He remarked. It was clearly an understatement.
"Do not be alarmed, pretty strangers." Slavered a voice. "I am the High Priest of Belial and I come with good intentions. When we tried to seize you this evening, the Lord Belial suddenly struck us with blindness, which surely meant that you were not to be sullied by us mortals. Now guards, get them gently in the name of Lord Belial."
"What do you mean?" Said a thin, angry voice. It came from the High Priest of Satan. "It was the Prince of Darkness who struck us blind! Clearly they are meant for Satan! Now move aside and let them go with us!"
A second later, there was general chaos in that area from which cries of 'Infidel!', 'Seize them! Seize them!' and 'Everyone stay where you are!' issued. Archangel Gabriel fought like a devil or, to be precise, an angel in a very embarrassing situation. Raphael was the only person in the throng who obeyed the order of staying exactly where he was, so it was natural that he got a knife in his shoulder that was meant to hit someone else, and promptly fainted. After another few seconds of scruffling and picking up injured fellow believers, the Priesthood of Satan departed with Gabriel while that of Belial departed with Raphael.
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It was 2 a.m. at the Green Parrot Tavern and God's date hadn't arrived yet. Although God never got angry, He was feeling a trifle dissatisfied. Not because He had to be kept waiting, but because He had been promised the time of His life and Sodom would be destroyed in an hour or so, even though He wasn't sure why. He could arrange time and space so that sunrise took longer, of course, but that would be not treating people and nature seriously. God hated doing that. He wondered why Heaven was always in such a hurry.
He snapped His fingers and instantly, Archangel Uriel appeared beside Him, blinking. For a moment the angel wondered if some quantum miscalculation of his had relocated him to the place. But Archangels didn't get to their rank by being stupid, and he took only a second to espy the Lord.
I have an appointment with a mortal, Uriel. You will accompany me here.
"My pleasure, Lord." Gulped Uriel, looking around. "Lord, isn't Sodom supposed to be destroyed by---"
Be quiet.
God had thought of the destroying angels, too, so He drained all the ethereal power in the city just to be on the safe side. At the moment the harlot drifted in, trailing the smell of bold perfume and alcohol. "Bad business tonight." She muttered to the barkeeper. "Everyone's gone to the match."
"Some'un's waiting for ye, Jezebel." Said the barkeeper.
The whore waltzed up to the Lord. She couldn't remember Him at all but that's not a good reason for throwing cash away. "Let's go upstairs and shake the floorboards, dearie." She chuckled.
No. My Son would go ballistic if I did that.
"He's not here, is he?" Said the woman, turning her head this way and that. "Besides, what are you after in this place? Women, men or non-humans?"
All of them. But first, we can talk. Tell me what you think of this city.
"Oh, it's hard to make money in this place." Said the woman, a trifle disappointed. "This part of the city is actually very decent. Men can frequent women of my profession without feeling massively ashamed."
That's good, isn't it?
"Of course it is." Snapped the whore. "Elsewhere we're out-competed by men. Even the religious clans have declared that women shouldn't work as prostitutes. They say a proper woman should stay at home and get married to a fellow sister, that sorta thing. You know how it is. No one wants us nowadays, not even for sex. You're not a foreigner, by any chance?"
I've always been here, but this is the first time for me to come here.
She tried to make sense of it, but failed. "All right," She said suspiciously. "I've been doing all the talking so far. It's your turn to tell me about yourself. What's your name?"
People call me God.
"OK." She rolled her eyes. Some people had strange tastes. Many of her customers called themselves "The Conqueror" or something like that. At least she now knew what she was dealing with. She said conversationally. "I worship a lot of them, you know. Which of them are you?"
I am not well acquainted with your gods. God admitted.
"Ah yes, forgot you're foreign." Said the harlot. "I wonder what it's like, being a God?"
According to her experience, the men she had been dealing with would, after this question, scoop her upstairs and say 'I'll show ye'. This one, to her amazement, really tried to explain it to her very patiently. And she listened.
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Archangel Gabriel was chained and shackled in one of Satan's temple's dungeons. They would have treated him more nicely, but he had already raised Cain in all of the guestrooms and quite a lot of people had been injured while trying to overpower him. Now he was lying on the ground looking very sick because he had overlooked the fact that there was something known as oxygen debt. He was told that he would be sacrificed to Satan during a match by being burned at the stake, so that Satan would smile on their side.
"I like a man with spirit." The Priest of Satan assured him. "Alas, you're just too good for this earth. I'm afraid we'll have to sacrifice you to the Prince of Darkness in the next hour or so. Doubtlessly he loves pretty faces like you."
"I'll change his mind in the next hour or so!" Panted Gabriel in rage. "I'm tellin' you, I've beaten the stuffing out of that worm for more times you---"
"Gag him." Instructed the High Priest. He had been sacrificing people all his life so he was not going to start being disturbed by this one. He had always found it better to ignore them.
In the temple of Belial, Archangel Raphael was bleeding on some pillows, looking bored. During the past he had often marveled at the skin's ability to resist germs and other pathogens, but one thing he had not learned was that it had absolutely no resistance to 5 inches of cold steel. Before I come down here the next time, he reminded himself, I'll get a tetanus shot. He had asked the guards for some penicillin, and they had, after staring at him blankly for a while, given him some moldy bread, which was pretty close to the real thing, Raphael had to admit.
"I'm sorry… you're saying?" He said to the man beside him politely.
"You'll be sacrificed to Lord Belial at sunrise." Repeated the priest. "So that he would favor our side during the match."
"I'm sure he wouldn't, my good man." Said Raphael. "There must have been a mistake. Can I talk to him?"
"You'll have plenty of time later, I guarantee you." Winked the priest as he walked out of the room. "He likes men like you, as a rule."
"He does? I haven't heard about it." Said Raphael to himself gloomily. "I don't classify under men, either."
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