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After the Fall (part one)

The angel looked down at Lucifer, bathing the Lord of Lies in the brilliance of his Self.

"You have been called back, Morningstar," said Gabriel.

"Don't you understand, there is no going back. I rebelled. I am the first of the fallen and for me there can never be heaven," said Lucifer.

"You are the Prodigal, and He has called you back."

"He doesn't know what He's doing."

"Do you really believe that, Morningstar?"

"No . . . I . . . It's been so long."

The angel extended a hand that was alive with flashes of firefly-light. He caressed Lucifer's face and looked into his eyes.

"And now it is at an end. There will be another to take your role. Just as every light needs a shadow, and every heaven needs a hell, every God needs a Satan."

"Thank you. It will be good to go home. I am so very tired."

Gabriel started floating upwards. Soon, Lucifer felt a pull on his own body and joined the Angel in the air.

Tears streamed down Lucifer's face as he ascended. His clothing burned away from him and his skin began to pulsate with the tiny flashes of light that characterized all the Angels' skin. His shrunken, leathery wings were transformed into the soft feathers of divinity. He looked down one last time at the place that had been his home for far too long.

"May God forgive you all," he whispered, and he and Gabriel disappeared.

* * *

The two demons blinked away the afterimages of their Lord and the angel departing. They had been hiding behind pillars in Lucifer's chamber, eavesdropping on what was to be the most important event in their lives. Now they were rubbing their eyes after being nearly blinded by the sudden ascension of the one they called Master.

The demons looked much as you would expect---horns, tails, pointed teeth, red skin, the whole bit. The demons were about the same height, although one was significantly more obese than the other.

"Why did the Master go?" asked the fatter one. He rubbed one eye, blinked a few times, then rubbed the other one.

"I guess he wanted to. He was from There at one point," said the thinner one.

"I think I'm sad," said Rastaphur.

"You think you're sad?" replied Johnson. "Why do you only think you're sad?"

"I think I'll miss him, but I don't really know yet," he responded. "Anyway, things are going to be very different around here, that's for sure."

"Yes. We'd better go make an announcement---the others will want to know," suggested Johnson.

"Good idea. No telling what would happen around here without a strict guiding hand. Sinners wouldn't be tortured, people wouldn't be possessed, things would go straight to Heaven."

"Please, don't say that word. It hurts my ears."

"Sorry," said Rastaphur.

Rastaphur headed to the chamber doors. They were carved of Ivory and pictured, in relief, scenes of grotesque tortures and killings.

"You know something?" Rastaphur said, his hand pausing on a knob shaped like a human skull. "Maybe we shouldn't tell the others just yet."

"Why is that?" said Johnson.

"Well, we're bound to get a replacement soon enough, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose . . ."

"Well, you heard what Gabriel said, `every God needs a Satan, etc. etc.' Well, what if we were to run Hell for a bit while we're waiting for the next Satan to get here?"

"I think we could get in lot's of trouble."

"By who? Just until the other one gets here."

Johnson had to think about it for a moment.

"Well, the place could use a bit of sprucing up," said Johnson.

He was right, the room had been decorated in 17th century Putrid. Paintings from various periods in history hung about the room, their colors dulled by soot and bloodstains. The ceiling was 20 feet above them and covered with a painting that resembled the Sistine Chapel's only in that it was on a ceiling and composed of paint.

To say that it was sparsely furnished would be overstating the painfully obvious. There were only about three pieces of furniture. One was a black oak desk in the corner, covered with miles of paperwork and dust. Another was the black four-poster bed in the middle of the room with black silk sheets and black pillows strewn about it. The other piece of furniture was the one concession to modern times: a black bean-bag chair placed in front of an ancient black and white TV.

"Exactly. I mean, we could install some computers down here. Get a better phone system. I hear there's a lot going on upstairs with CD-Roms, we could get ourselves a few of those."

"Lucifer _was_ a bit old-fashioned. He kept picking up that Macintosh we gave him for Christmas and shaking it to clear the screen."

"Exactly, Lucifer wouldn't have known modern technology if it had bitten him on the infernal bits. Now's our chance, while we're in charge, to get some real things done."

"So, basically, you're suggesting that we modernize Hell?"

"Yeah."

"Without telling anyone else what we're doing?"

"That about sums it up," said Rastaphur.

"I approach this plan with great fear and great excitement."

"Which means?"

"I'll do it," said Johnson, a toothy grin making it's way out from beneath his black lips.

* * *