Demon who doesn't care how long it will take, whether hours or eons, they will see you buried.
A Sunday evening typically called for a Sunday service. For those who can’t attend the morning service, the pulpit opens its doors when the Sun sets to praise the Creator, Judivah, for creating all life. That’s how it goes for the people - praise and worship, and have their spirits ferried into Elysium.
“...What a load of Bull.”
So says the uncanny woman, strutting under the moonlight that cascaded on her unnatural grey skin. She was dressed for a Sunday service, adorned in a red dress that hugged her generously proportioned body. Every step in her crimson high heels caused an eye-catching bounce to roll from her hand-filling breast, and the healthy rear hidden by the back of her dress. Atop her head was an extravagant hat, whose wide brim would usually hide the predatory gaze in the woman’s eyes. Not tonight - she was here for an important night at the Charlottesburg 1st Judivan Chapel, and she wanted to see everything unimpeded.
High heels echo against the remains of old walls and stained glass shattered by natural causes. Pews were shattered back to the pieces of lumber it once was. The floors, marked with splatters of ancient, dried blood and the skeletal remains of the congregation, told a story that this demon knew all too well. The only part of this church that stood the test of time was a statue of a large woman, with hands spread out to the people of the congregation, offering the warmth of Judivah to the people. The Demoness knew this woman…Saint Mirabelle, the saint of Good Fortune. This was not her true name, however. That was-
“Joviel.”
That name rang in her ears like church bells. Her skin felt like peeling off of her very body. Her stomach sank into a pit, reviving an insatiable hunger for blood, flesh, and carnage. Teeth clenched as the Demoness glares at the one responsible for this pain.
“...That’s not my name anymore, dipshit. Hasn’t been since Judivah kicked me out.”
The entity that the Demon spoke to illuminated the Chapel’s corpse like the morning Sun. Feathered wings gently fluttered, keeping the bright eye, encased in beautiful stained glass that depicted the events of Genesis, afloat. Its eye trained on the Fiendish woman beneath its presence, in a body formed and thickened with Gluttony, wearing a red ensemble dress that fit all too well on that Lustful, buxom form.
“And Yet, You Are In Judivah’s House. Instead Of Lying In The Sea Of Flames, Here You Stand In Reverence Of The Creator’s Love, Jo-”
“If you call me that name one more time,” the Demon interrupted. “I’m tearing your wings off and havin’ them for Dinner. The name’s ‘Big Red’ now.”
The angel’s eye glare silently scrutinized Big Red. Tipping her Sunday hat, the gray-skinned Fiend stalked the angel, circling the floating eye with steps so gentle that it hid the tension of a predator’s pounce.
“Yeah, ‘Judivah’s love.’ I know all about that,” Big Red says with a smile. “Pray to the Creator and you’ll prosper…Even when you’re a piece of shit.” She paused her stalking to stop next to a human skull. Lifting it up, the Demoness puppets the lower jaw with her free hand. “ ‘O Judivah!’” mocked the Demoness. “ ‘Grant me the opportunity to turn my congregation into a prostitution ring! O, Great Creator, GREAT CREATOR!’” The imitation soured her mood the more she remembered the truth behind this dainty Chapel, located far away from civilization. Her attention was on the skull now, and her hands were trembling at the distant sounds of moans, screams, and praising of Judivah above them all.
“The Weight Of Your Guilt Anchors Your Rage. What Happened Was Unfortunate, But Angels Are To Not Interfere With Mortal Affairs.”
Hearing such words brought Big Red’s rage right back to the angel. Her hands stopped trembling, and they pushed together until the skull shattered from her strength. The angel is addressed only after she finishes dusting her hands off. “Uh-huh. Leave it to a God like Judivah to leave imperfections lyin’ about. Too busy creating to fix Their shit…Well, no use cryin’ about it now. I’m just a Demon now, sworn to throw hands with ‘em on Judgment Day!”
The silence of the Stained Glass Angel eroded into the crashing of church bells singing in the distance. Their beautiful sound betrayed the urgency in their words. “Inconceivable. Repent Such Sinful Ways! Judivah Is All Powerful. All Knowing. To Fight Against The Creator Is Nothing But Fantasy. Joviel, Please Reconsider-”
The blur of gray and red hurling itself toward the Angel ended the appeal. Much like the guiding light of Judivah, the Angel’s form broke away into particles of light, avoiding Big Red’s lunging attack. With no angel to take the hit, the Statue of Saint Mirabelle took the full force of the attack. It fell into ruin in seconds. As the remains of the familiar saint shatter and crumble beside her feet, Big Red kneels down, picking up her Sunday hat, which blew off from her explosive movement.
“Wanna know what’s REAL fantasy?” Big Red shouted into the air, assured that the angel was listening. “Believing that any of us were valued to begin with! You talk about Judivah’s Love…I got sent outta Heaven without a word. The people I was responsible for weren’t saved…Over time, that fuckin’ Pastor was outright selling the women on the pulpit!!”
Grievances of her Creator were being laid out before Judivah’s floating conduit. The stained glass shell of the eldritch creature turned about, letting the light shine upon the depictions of The Beginning of the world with a hint of agitation. Big Red smirked; she got under the angel’s skin. “Worst of all? Those poor humans were prayin’. Prayin’ for DAYS for that someone to end all of their suffering.” Red eyes, filled with a sadistic glee, burned its gaze upon the Angel silently keeping distance from her. “I’ll let you in on a secret: The one who saved ‘em wasn’t from Judivah. It was all because of a little girl, scared to death and sick of the B.S. going off the deep end. She studies some dark arts, and cooks up a summoning circle just to pull out something, ANYTHING, to put a stop to it all. You know how this ends, right?”
“You Speak Heresy. The Creator Would Not Allow Such Pain And Suffering To Go Unpunished. There Is Still Time To Repent, Joviel. Do Not Allow Yourself To Fall Deeper Into Ruin!”
Big Red slides her hat back onto her head, hiding the horns adorning the crown of her head. Her lips, darkened with a black lipstick, parted into a wicked smile. “Fall?” she mocked in a playful tone. “Oh, I fell alright. Fell right through the shitpit that was Hell, and right down in the Human realm, all thanks to that Girl. What I saw going on in there made me realize something important.” And before she finished her thought, her smile dropped to a frown.
“Judivah’s love ain’t worth shit.”
The stained glass mural’s rotation stopped, ending at the Fruit of Temptation. The glass began to break, and the light form within the angel was blinding. Even as the light of Judivah was causing her skin to singe and smoke from the Holy presence, the sound of distant church bells becoming an intense choir, echoing as loud as the Angel’s fury, was more than rewarding for the well dressed demoness.
“INCONCEIVABLE. INADMISSIBLE. UNFORGIVABLE. THOU SHALL NOT SPIT ON THE LORD’S NAME. MARK YOUR DAYS, DEMON! YOUR ARROGANCE WILL BE THE IMPETUS THAT SCATTERS YOUR PROFANE FORM ACROSS THE STARS!”
A powerful blast of light signified the Angel’s exit from this plane of existance. Her eyes adjusting to the dark once more, Big Red was now alone. Alone in the broken church she stood in, and alone in the sense that Judivah, and all Their forces, would leave her no quarter should they ever cross paths again. The bravado she exemplified withered as the realization weighed down upon her - from here on out, she would have to survive in a world that made less sense than Heaven and Hell combined.
“...Mark my days…?”
A panging hunger made her body lurch weakly. It was a feeling she knew all too well ever since she attained this form, yet could never quench. Blood, pain, fear, violence. All these negative feelings threatened to eat away at her unless she took charge and ate first. Regaining her posture, and her hatred, Big Red walks out of the empty church with a new lease on life.
“...You got it. I’m markin’ every day, night, and hour. I’ll keep markin’ until mountains return to dust. I’ll keep walkin’ even when that pretty little Sun snuffs itself out. I’ll be waiting for the day I hear those horns blaring out. Whenever that day comes, I’m gonna make a tower built on all you shitty angels so I can put Judivah into the dirt myself.”