Lilith (reptileblooded) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2012-09-06 10:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | lilith |
WHO: Lilith [narrative]
WHEN: Wednesday night
WHERE: New York City/Hell
WHAT: Lilith takes a trip below.
WARNINGS: General Hell imagary
NOTES: So I haven't slept for a long time and this is basically stream of consciousness and I haven't even gone back to reread/check it. Enjoy the numerous errors that must be present in it and embrace the sentences that might start but never end...
Queen of Hell may have been the title bestowed upon her by the mortals, but Lilith hadn't been Below (the capital-B Below, the fiery pit, the tiered inferno) for over a decade.
Maybe the other hell queens - the three she saw as lesser - could make their way down there with ease, stepping between Earth and Hell without a thought, but Lilith couldn't do that. She remembered that it had been easier once. Once Lilith had been seen only as a creature of hell, that fallen woman, useful only as a morality tale, a slut for the devil, but now it was more complicated than that. She'd been embraced by women as a symbol of their own strength and freedom and each other took her another step away from the burning fires of hell that had once strengthened her.
Now to return to Hell it took more force and effort than Lilith was willing to admit to anyone. It would be a show of weakness, but she wondered sometimes how much Satan recognised had been changed in her.
In her darkened apartment, Lilith shed her clothes. Already her skin itched as though it already knew what was about to happen. The red string around her wrist was the only thing on her body now, burning her flesh without leaving a mark, just as it always did. With a pair of scissors she cut thought it and it fluttered slowly to the ground before coming to rest silently against the carpet. The sudden absence of the constant pain that had accompanied it made her feel truly naked. She hadn't quite realised how much a part of her that self-inflicted pain had become until it was gone.
The words that Lilith had started whispering under her breath were ancient ones, the language of the first men - and woman. More than most, Lilith relied on spells and talismans. Her myths were crafted around secret words and special rituals and finding her own gateway to the kingdom of fire was the same.
Eyes closed, Lilith began to draw lines on the carpet with her finger. Behind her eyelids they burned bright, like copper in the sun, and she drew over and over each line until they all blazed like the sun. In the back of her nose the acrid tang of scorched hair, under her fingertips the burning heat of molten rock.
It was the tormented scream of agony that made Lilith open her eyes. Around her stretched the cavernous expanse of Hell and Lilith took a deep breath - classic sulfur and brimstone, just as mankind had built it up to be.
In this place the humanity peeled of Lilith's body as easily as a dress she'd once worn. She could have dragged it back to her with a little effort, but Below she preferred to look the part anyway. It could have almost been clothes, the way those mottled bronze-green scales replaced sections of her own pale flesh, the cold-blooded reptile in the shape of a woman, halfway turned back to what she truly was. She actually saw the change when her irises shrunk themselves to yellow slits, the tongue in her mouth tasting different as it found the forked end it longed for.
We missed you, was what this body whispered with every breath, with every atom, as coal-black wings arched and unfurled upon her back. Raking knife-edged nails across the scales of her stomach, Lilith smiled and took a deep contented breath. Here the confused humanity inside her was gone. Here she was only Lilith the Sinful, the Tortuous Serpent in her natural habitat.
That smile remained as Lilith crossed the open space that lay between her and the looming dark castle ahead, a thing built of bones and agony. It was only right her castle be so strong, so magnificent, she who was the (un)divine feminine spirit of Satan.
The doors opened as though they'd been waiting years for her return, and inside the building glowed orange, fires blazing in the hearths as tall as houses. Everything within was immense but to Lilith nothing had felt more homely. Her smile was genuine and overwhelmed.
A chaise lurched toward her on it's dog-bone legs and Lilith happily let it steal her off her feet, the burned-flesh arms curling around her, demanding and adoring. Lilith stretched and yawned, forked tongue flicking across her lips as she let her wings reach out behind her into the fire. Flames danced along her veins and Lilith made a sound of pure contentment as she sunk her razor nails into the chaise and listened to it scream and whimper.