". . .little girls shouldn't be in men's fights, don't you agree?" He strangled her with his monstrous arms.
Rafel had cuts along the left half of his face that refused to heal, but it was no concern to him when he faced Cora—his extremely attractive and androgynous Corazón, struggling for her next breath in Mephistopheles's chokehold.
"Meph...let her go."
It was the first time Rafel's voice ever shook.
Mephistopheles peered evilly between him and Cora struggling up with shaking legs in the air.
"Ah! You do care for this one, Apollyon. And here I thought it was just Ravenna who you needed sucking your balls. Such a philanderer you are, Israfel. I daresay your Aunt would be happy if I take care of this problem for her. Might compensate me even."
'There he goes with Aunt Lilith again. What does she have to do with all this?' Rafel thought.
Still, he grinded his teeth as he offered, "Let her go, Meph, please. We can work something out."
The god of mischief pranced like a peacock in Rafel's obvious empathy. He continued, unnerving Rafel greatly. "This is why I dislike fraternizing with mortals. They make us like them...weak. Just look at you, Israfel. The great and beloved Apollyon of Hel, lowering your standards of war to plead for a meagre fleshbag's short life.
There was a time when I did fear you. Really, I did. But oh well, your Aunt put things in perspective for me."
Rafel finally growled. "What has Lilith got to do with anything?"
"Aww! The poor sod doesn't know!" Meph mocked.
Rafel wished more than ever Cora's strike had found it's mark. "Know what?"
Just then, Cora started going weak in her struggles. Mephistopheles curled his taloned fingers tightly around her neck. The black nails dug into her soft, peach skin. Rafel could see the life slipping out of her. He needed to do something. But what to do?
He never had something to live—or die for before. That was what made him so invincible with his adversaries. He had never cared about someone enough for them to be a weakness.
But Corazón?
With some strain, the witch lifted her hand and pointed behind him. She was muffling something.
Rafel tried to read her lips.
Cora was saying, "H-He's not the real... He's not the Prime."
Rafel's amber eyes widened as he swept around.
"Wait, aren't you—"
But he wasn't fast enough. Just as he was turning, the real Mephistopheles, who was right behind him, sent a [Dark Spectre] dagger plunging into his stomach. The short blade was ranked [Divine]. It's blade was a lightning bolt blessed by several of the Old gods.
The blue electricity sizzled Rafel's flesh as it crunched through his Sphinx armor, through inches of dragon scale chainmail and through his guts. Cora actually cried when she saw the Elemental blade go through Rafel.
The crackling end jutted out Rafel's back with a spurt of blood.
Rafel sank to his knees.
Did this fucker just stab him with a fucking lightning bolt?
"Got ya now!" Mephistopheles gloried in his face.
This was the [Prime]. The real bodily form of the god of deception. Rafel stared out in severe pain. He could feel the blade's tip electrocuting his bleeding guts. His insides were being cauterized and roasted at the same time. And he couldn't pull it out.
Not without injuring his hands too.
[Dark Spectre] blades were loyal to only their wielders: the Spectres.
The pain made his vision dull and he peered at Cora finally go stiff in Mephistopheles' huge fist around her throat. She was taking her final breaths.
"R-Ravenna!" Rafel choked.
All the words sinking in were too much. But on some level, he knew. He knew it to be true.
"Ain't that some shit!" Mephistopheles laughed aloud. "Pretty fucking good plot twist, eh? Lilith and Hèla are currently in your precious Capitol, removing a Queen from her seat and expunging a dynasty."
Rafel's eyes bulged.
"Giselle?"
Mephistopheles continued apathetically.
"As for Ravenna de Vries, she is my prize because... SHE'S MY FUCKING DAUGHTER!"
"WHAT?!" Rafel was supremely stunned.
He watched perplexed beyond measure as the man's smooth, brass face brightened of swarthy features to a pale white complexion. His green eyes remained but Ravenna behind gasped when chalky grey hair matted onto his bald head, when a sharp nose perched high, when his jaw became dusted with a drunkard's unkept stubble.
In mere moments, Mephistopheles had transformed into her father: the very way he looked when he disappeared that day.
She and Rafel watched astounded as Thebault de Vries smiled a lopsided grin.
"I am her father," he said again. "But newsflash, I am also the god of deception. Caricatures are my forte. As much as I love my daughter, I had to vanish because I knew my tragic disappearance would send her on a path to investigate. A path to you. Ravenna is the most pure thing to ever come out of me.
I hate that I had to leave her, but it was all part of our plans.
Her mother isn't dead either. Remember how I said said she's an Unawakened [Celestial]? Well, she got that HOLY energy from her mother... who is an Angel. The Seraph, Yuriel..."
Mephistopheles kept talking but Ravenna couldn't listen anymore. Rafel still hadn't seen her behind. He clutched to his stomach, fingers around the dagger's hilt. Blood soaked his fingertips.
It all made perfect sense.
. . . Ravenna's leaf-green eyes. Mephistopheles had the same kind.
The reason he hadn't been able to sense Ravenna when she'd turned up wet and sodden at his door. She was a fucking Angel!
Her mother was a Seraph, her father the most crooked Archdemon on the planet.
Shite. And to think he thought of her as dainty?
At that very moment, Ravenna stood to her feet. Rafel's face went white on seeing her. Thebault, or more plainly Mephistopheles' face went even whiter. Both men were wondering how much she had heard.
Ravenna looked to both of them with tears streaming down her face.
"FUCK YOU!"
And then she ran. She ran until the smoking embers of Emberfall were behind her. She vanished into the great trees leading North.
Rafel fell to the cold earth. He had bled too much to keep upright on his knees. His eyes were dimming out and he couldn't feel the ends of his limbs. He was cold. Was this how death felt?
He could hear the drummings of the Capitol being forcefully seized and crumbled. He could see the might of the Titans shadowed as pits in the black skies. The smell of burning filled the air and it was only the fires of the night that brightened the sweeping pallor of war. He shifted his head, lain on the ashen Wyrd grass to spot Aya Naamah and Annabelle still winked out.
He couldn't bring himself to shift further down that road to see Cora.
But alas, her peerless blue eyes was what guided his own into forever darkness as he finally succumbed to the blackout of bleeding to death. He could never forget. The last thing he saw were the ruins of his own home. The last thing he smelled was fire and brimstone, rumblings of conquest and pillage that shook the earth all the way from the Capitol.
The last thing he imagined was Cora's soft lips on the skin of his neck.
And so it was, the APOLLYON fell that sordid night, just on the verge of ascending into the [Supernatural] Rank.
Or did he?