To the Victor goes the Spoils/Continued
folder
G through L › Hellraiser (All)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
2,644
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › Hellraiser (All)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
2,644
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Hellraiser movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Damned can Pray
Author's note: Own nothing, earn nothing. Drat.
The dawning twilight cloaked the labyrinth in a dim blue glow. Angelique walked almost alone down the sprawling passages. Her head was lowered in thought, her eyes distant, and confused.
Dreamer was not speaking to her, for now. Dreamer was busy working with, to Angelique’s horror, that band of misfits the Tech. They were to remain behind with many others to guard Leviathan.
Leviathan… she looked inward, toward the black diamond. “You are why we should fight the war here…”
If they were forced to enter Behemoth’s realm, they would be fighting the fallen God himself. That was beyond them! Surely Leviathan could see that? “If we kill a hundred Horiff, it will make no difference.” Her eyes closed. “Or a thousand, a hundred-thousand, legion! It will not matter. The source remains.” The floor shifted beneath her feat, casually she stepped onto another slab, watched the previous one descend. “You know that Leviathan; let them come here!”
She had caught His attention. The beam changed its course, moving to cover her. “Forgive me, Leviathan. Forgive that I doubt, that your greater mystery eludes me. But I do not see victory on the horizon.”
… … … …
“Forgive me, Leviathan.” Topec knelt, his head lowered to his bracing knee. The shadows of the church of suffering cloaked him, the silence was deep. “Forgive me that I sin, that your greater mystery eludes me. Forgive your servant.”
… … … …
“Forgive me, Leviathan, but I am concerned…” Dreamer shook her head. She had sought solitude for her thoughts, but she could hear her former comrades sparring through the walls. “I think Angelique has a point…” her hand clutched the wall, it trembled.
The last wall, the last defense at the border, cemented itself into place with a crash.
A strange silence fell over the already quiet morning. They were ready, and they weren’t ready at all. The shudders of the last piece locking shook the ground. Inside the chapel the walls trembled, the flames on the candles flickered in an unfelt breeze.
…The arches echoed with whispers, drifting, fading like the passing fog.
Xipe Topec, Black pope of hell. He knelt alone, pins casting shadows. Hell was praying; he listened so as to inform the god of the majority’s concern. It was an act more of symbol than of service, Leviathan required no ears but his own. Gone was the old Worship method, that individuals be dedicated to nothing but prayer, and as a consequence all too often the great chamber was silent. He smiled in silent memory, remembering a set of shoulders wider than his own, a black cowl, and hands made for the sword pressed in prayer. Tec Pozep, long dead, seemed to linger in places of this sort still.
(“Forgive me Leviathan, that I have been clouded, and wander unseeing.”
“Forgive me lord Leviathan, I look for inspiration.”
“Forgive me, I am lost.”
“Forgive, that I do not know what your will is.”
“Forgive us, we are not perfect.”)
“Forgive them Leviathan.” Topec looked up, feeling that the god was near and yet far, focused elsewhere. “They who wander, without insight. Forgive those who fail to learn your mysteries, those who fail perfection, see their efforts. And forgive your servant, who bids you teach them the perfection of Order. Carve from us all chaos, so that we may better serve. Carpe Diem, Leviathan, Carpe Noctem.” One by one, the candles went out. Topec stood, looked about him. “As those before me…” The whispers again, filling the empty air. “As those to follow…” A soft cough.
Spencer stood not far off, looking out of place amongst the patterns and arches of the underground cathedral. He coughed again, an apologetic nod.
“Will you be done soon?”
Topec paused, then simply nodded. Spenser sighed, “Ah, I see.”
“You are here, again.”
“Good of you to notice.” Light sarcasm laced the British accent. “This brings back… a memory, that’s all. Don’t let me disturb you.”
“It is too late for that.”
“I see. Well, my apologies.”
(“Forgive that we cannot see as you would have us see.”
“Make us, what we are meant to become.”
“Enlighten me Leviathan, show me order.”)
“Forgive me Leviathan.” Angelique looked into the beam, “I am old, at times it is painful. Blindness has clouded me, and then I saw, and feared what I glimpsed. I doubt your wisdom, and I urge you to reconsider.”
A great rumble, the light withdrew. Like a foghorn Leviathan called from the center, toneless, words without word that all could understand. Angelique basked in the sound, the floor trembling beneath her feet.
(“We hear you.”) Called Hell en-mass.
Topec looked quietly upon the spirit of his flesh, his eyes deep and almost amused. He passed and exited the chapel, robes swirled about his feet.
Angelique knelt, humbled, her eyes closed.
“Forgive me.” They said.
“And forgive me, whoever can, whoever will.” Eliot Spenser stood in the blackness. “Forgive us, we who are half this war, and half this realm. Leviathan, remember what your servants sprung from. God… Oh Lord, forgive us that we sinned, and that we fell. Forgive us that we made mistakes, went down the wrong path, fought pointless wars. Forgive us that we sought sensation. There’s only truth, when the skin is stripped away. And for we the damned, there’s only… today. Forgive me father, for I have sinned, thy kingdom come, thy will be done…” He looked up, lit a candle. “In hell, as it is in heaven.”
Topec looked out across the Labyrinth, eyes closed, seeing with his other senses. “Amen.” He whispered, stepping off the ledge like an eagle from a swoop.
The dawning twilight cloaked the labyrinth in a dim blue glow. Angelique walked almost alone down the sprawling passages. Her head was lowered in thought, her eyes distant, and confused.
Dreamer was not speaking to her, for now. Dreamer was busy working with, to Angelique’s horror, that band of misfits the Tech. They were to remain behind with many others to guard Leviathan.
Leviathan… she looked inward, toward the black diamond. “You are why we should fight the war here…”
If they were forced to enter Behemoth’s realm, they would be fighting the fallen God himself. That was beyond them! Surely Leviathan could see that? “If we kill a hundred Horiff, it will make no difference.” Her eyes closed. “Or a thousand, a hundred-thousand, legion! It will not matter. The source remains.” The floor shifted beneath her feat, casually she stepped onto another slab, watched the previous one descend. “You know that Leviathan; let them come here!”
She had caught His attention. The beam changed its course, moving to cover her. “Forgive me, Leviathan. Forgive that I doubt, that your greater mystery eludes me. But I do not see victory on the horizon.”
… … … …
“Forgive me, Leviathan.” Topec knelt, his head lowered to his bracing knee. The shadows of the church of suffering cloaked him, the silence was deep. “Forgive me that I sin, that your greater mystery eludes me. Forgive your servant.”
… … … …
“Forgive me, Leviathan, but I am concerned…” Dreamer shook her head. She had sought solitude for her thoughts, but she could hear her former comrades sparring through the walls. “I think Angelique has a point…” her hand clutched the wall, it trembled.
The last wall, the last defense at the border, cemented itself into place with a crash.
A strange silence fell over the already quiet morning. They were ready, and they weren’t ready at all. The shudders of the last piece locking shook the ground. Inside the chapel the walls trembled, the flames on the candles flickered in an unfelt breeze.
…The arches echoed with whispers, drifting, fading like the passing fog.
Xipe Topec, Black pope of hell. He knelt alone, pins casting shadows. Hell was praying; he listened so as to inform the god of the majority’s concern. It was an act more of symbol than of service, Leviathan required no ears but his own. Gone was the old Worship method, that individuals be dedicated to nothing but prayer, and as a consequence all too often the great chamber was silent. He smiled in silent memory, remembering a set of shoulders wider than his own, a black cowl, and hands made for the sword pressed in prayer. Tec Pozep, long dead, seemed to linger in places of this sort still.
(“Forgive me Leviathan, that I have been clouded, and wander unseeing.”
“Forgive me lord Leviathan, I look for inspiration.”
“Forgive me, I am lost.”
“Forgive, that I do not know what your will is.”
“Forgive us, we are not perfect.”)
“Forgive them Leviathan.” Topec looked up, feeling that the god was near and yet far, focused elsewhere. “They who wander, without insight. Forgive those who fail to learn your mysteries, those who fail perfection, see their efforts. And forgive your servant, who bids you teach them the perfection of Order. Carve from us all chaos, so that we may better serve. Carpe Diem, Leviathan, Carpe Noctem.” One by one, the candles went out. Topec stood, looked about him. “As those before me…” The whispers again, filling the empty air. “As those to follow…” A soft cough.
Spencer stood not far off, looking out of place amongst the patterns and arches of the underground cathedral. He coughed again, an apologetic nod.
“Will you be done soon?”
Topec paused, then simply nodded. Spenser sighed, “Ah, I see.”
“You are here, again.”
“Good of you to notice.” Light sarcasm laced the British accent. “This brings back… a memory, that’s all. Don’t let me disturb you.”
“It is too late for that.”
“I see. Well, my apologies.”
(“Forgive that we cannot see as you would have us see.”
“Make us, what we are meant to become.”
“Enlighten me Leviathan, show me order.”)
“Forgive me Leviathan.” Angelique looked into the beam, “I am old, at times it is painful. Blindness has clouded me, and then I saw, and feared what I glimpsed. I doubt your wisdom, and I urge you to reconsider.”
A great rumble, the light withdrew. Like a foghorn Leviathan called from the center, toneless, words without word that all could understand. Angelique basked in the sound, the floor trembling beneath her feet.
(“We hear you.”) Called Hell en-mass.
Topec looked quietly upon the spirit of his flesh, his eyes deep and almost amused. He passed and exited the chapel, robes swirled about his feet.
Angelique knelt, humbled, her eyes closed.
“Forgive me.” They said.
“And forgive me, whoever can, whoever will.” Eliot Spenser stood in the blackness. “Forgive us, we who are half this war, and half this realm. Leviathan, remember what your servants sprung from. God… Oh Lord, forgive us that we sinned, and that we fell. Forgive us that we made mistakes, went down the wrong path, fought pointless wars. Forgive us that we sought sensation. There’s only truth, when the skin is stripped away. And for we the damned, there’s only… today. Forgive me father, for I have sinned, thy kingdom come, thy will be done…” He looked up, lit a candle. “In hell, as it is in heaven.”
Topec looked out across the Labyrinth, eyes closed, seeing with his other senses. “Amen.” He whispered, stepping off the ledge like an eagle from a swoop.