Harbringers

Morning Star

    Lucille sat in front of her dresser. A goblet of red wine on one hand and a Damascus steel knife on the other. She was scrying on the dresser’s mirror on how Bianca struggled with Vladimir, child of Greed. She was pathetic but she had a little faith. Bianca outsmarted by that dimwit, she smirked and took a sip from the goblet. Three months have passed since her Father talked to her about her mission and on how he didn’t much trust in her. Apparently, he was expecting a boy to be his heir since boys are better rulers but she’ll just have to make do. His expectations were quite low- it went lower when Lucille told her plan on making all Children of Hell submit to her. He just scoffed at her and immediately dismissed the girl, banning her from Hell until she proves herself. It didn't help when He knew she was only able to recruit the Bianca. You humor me Lucille!  I need a King, not a jester in my court! He laughed mockingly. Her grip on the knife tightened as she reminisce.

            Returning her focus on the show, she saw how Bianca's eyes were filled with fear- after multiple lacerations and cornered, she should be. That goody-two shoes keeps on being a gullible, helping out Vladimir when she could've finished him off instead? And to top it all off she was manipulated! When will she stop upholding her morals? The Child of Envy can hasten decay, like how she crumbled down the hospital yesterday, the Child of Greed, can conjure spears and manipulate emotions to his delight, Child of Wrath can breath fire and call forth legions! Well, she, the Child of Pride, Lucille McCarthy, can send tremors and calamities, do black magic, and kill. Then there's Bianca De Milo... Child of Sloth, like the Child of Lust and Glutton, she has nothing much to offer. She can teleport with more precision than her... and locate stuff... that's it. But she knows she can do more, she's just holding herself back!  She was eager to see what she’ll do next, with just one clap her goody-two shoes demeanor can be gone. She’ll love being horrible, just as horrible as her. Maybe this life threatening situation can change things up! Maybe she'll be a murderous killing machine useful to her! She just have to... try. There she is, the brunette all backed in a corner, covered in wounds, cowering. Once Vladimir drops his spears, Bianca will be no more unless she does something about it. But before Vlad can commence, a figure blurred, it swiftly cut his arm, sending it across the room.  The spears vanished and the Child of Greed fell in shock, trying to comprehend what happened. Bianca tried to approach the both of them in confusion but she was only put to sleep by a snap from the mysterious person. In her last efforts, before passing out, the Child of Sloth, reached her hands out to make both her and Vladimir vanished. 

"BIANCA YOU WRETHCED!" Lucille screamed in disappointment and anger, "YOU COULD'VE KILLED THEM BOTH!" 

        Her frustrations sent cracks across the room, clouds of dust descending from the ceiling. She heaved in anger, that b***h doesn't know what she's doing, she gritted her teeth and stabbed the dresser with her knife. Then the figure turned, looking at the Lucille dead in the eyes. It seems like it sensed her through the screen. It was as if the person was just there right in front of her.  Lucille felt cold, shivers sent down to her spine. A feeling she didn't know she'll feel again- fear.

"You're next..." it whispered coldly. 

        The figure snapped her fingers and the glass shattered, the force enough to launch huge shards towards her. The blonde crossed her arms in front of her to block it, but the power was too much, she stumbled down, flat on her back. She winced in pain, her skin throbbed in pain as it was covered in shallow wounds. She breath deeply, blowing air to some of the cuts. She closed her eyes and focused. Her horns glowed red, sealing the wounds shut. She sat herself down, dumbfounded and pale  on what happened. Then she let out another shriek, the sound shredding everything in the room- the wallpapers stripped, the sheets torn, the furniture crushed, the windows broke- cottons and feathers flew around the room. Her authority and power is yet again mocked! She can't accept this! She grabbed her phone, luckily unscathed from her outburst, and dialed a number. 

"Chamberlain!" she called with hints of disdain, "I want another room! NOW!" 

"Y-yes my Lord..." the callee replied in panic. 

           She dropped the call, and crushed the phone with her hands. Bianca is under her control and mercy, one move of defiance she can destroy her. Right now, she’ll let her roam freely and feel the sense of free will but when the time comes, she will be nothing but a puppet to her, an additional region at her disposal once queen.  Her horns grew rapidly compared to the other children, which means she had no time left. Beatrice is just a waste of time and a lost cost, she’s just as weak-willed as Bianca but with no restraints, maybe she'll just do the job herself. If it stays like this, she’ll be forced to recruit Lust and Glutton, even by force. Now there is this another threat- an unknown figure that has the capability to kill them! The Child of Wrath is gaining on her, if ever, she'll have to do a direct attack. She’s aware that this destiny is getting into her head. She cannot help it. She was born and raised for this role, she was fashioned to rule Hell, and she’ll show her Father, as well as his lackeys that she is a force not to be messed with.  This minor set back is no obstacle is nothing to her. Her head throbbed and her horns lengthened. Thoughts like these boils her blood even more. 

         She looked at her knife and peered at her reflection through the cold blade. Her horns longer than ever. She caressed her cheeks- her skin dried again. The porcelain beauty she once had has gradually diminished. She really has no time left. Then it struck her, pondering on the blade she has on hand. Only Damascus blade can permanently damage and sever any denizens of Hell, including them Children of Hell. She was sure she was able to secure and dispose all of it back in her trips- she murdered any remaining blacksmiths, killed every owner she could find. She melted each and every piece she could find and meld it into the knife she has right now. Well, there are still untouched and unused Damascus steel, but that was heavily guarded daemons. So how can someone else acquire a blade similar to hers? Lucille pondered, that person is not just a simple threat, it's a hindrance. She clicked her tongue in frustration.

"Not someone like you will be the end of me." she spat out of spite. 

        She stood and walked to the window, looking at the view. It's horrible. Humanity still thriving and living after all these years. She wished to erase them, if not, subjugate them. They are disgusting low lives. How ungrateful they are to create and replace their deities to their benefits. Soon, they'll only be worshipping her and no one will topple her. 

"I'll show you Father..." she said softly, "I'll turn this land a living Hell." 

           Someone knocked at the door, a bellboy entered the room, the chaos made his eyes enlarged and mouth agape. In annoyance, Lucille threw her knife, barely missing the boy's ears. That made him fall in shock. His reaction cheered her up a little. 

"Don't you have manners?" she sneered, glaring at the helpless bellboy, "How rude of you to intrude during a lady's private time!" 

"I-I'm s-sorry-" he gulped in fear, his face pale and body shivering, "M-Mr. Chamberlain c-called me to bring you t-to your new room-"

"Good." 

"F-follow me ma'am" 

Lucille glared at the bellboy even more.

"T-this way my Lord." he corrected, bowing his head. 

"Better..." she smiled and exited of the room, taking the knife with her as well.

        Right as she stepped out, the lights flickered and the corridor spun around her. The bellboy suddenly was gone. She was all alone. The carpeted floor warped on her feet and the gold wallpapers drooped. The ceiling slowly caving in. Lucille stumbled, trying to find a solid wall to lean on, only to be sucked in. The blonde's heart pounded. This can't be happening right now! A thick foreign energy enveloped the place, she couldn't figure out whose is it- it was powerful enough to make her head ache, as if it is crushing it by pressure.   At the end of the hall, the same hooded figure walked in, her knife scraping against the distorting walls, creating an unearthly screeching sounds. Lucille tried to tug her arm free to no avail. She tugged harder and harder as the figure came closer, she can hear her bones c***k. There, before her, the figure stood menacingly. 

"I told you you're next." It said callously, it's knife ready to be plunged to her heart. 

"Fissura!" the damsel casted, hoping to call forth tremors... but just like her tugging, it did nothing. 

        The figure only laughed at her attempt, shaking its head in utter disappointment. 

"You're too full of yourself," it mocked, "that's so like you Lucille..." 

        It swiped its knife, aiming at her chest, out of impulse, Lucille blocked it with hers. The clash of blades produced a huge force it was able to push back the distortion and the figure, her arm finally freed!  Her knees were trembling and like noodles but she forced herself to stand in a ready-stance. The figure looked at her own knife out of confusion, while she took it as an opportunity to counter. She dashed towards the figure, slashing the figure at the chest- the person barely moving out of the way. Lucille attempted another swipe at the person, this time gashing it's arm. It's skin sizzling in contact. She was so fixated at the reaction of the blade to the skin that it got her thinking. Not noticing a pummel to her side with vigor sufficient to send her across the room. 

"I'll get you next time!" the figure hissed, dissolving to the shadows. 

        The corridor curled back to it's normal state, the bellboy has returned. Black spots filled Lucille's eyes, and tensed ringing filled her ears. She couldn't comprehend happened- it was too fast. Her whole body pulsed and throbbed, especially her sides. Her insides revolted within, making her queasy and unease. Blood dripped in her nose while her head became light. She was completely drained and pale- she was at her limits.  Whatever that person did, it was beyond black magic but it clearly wanted to kill her. And that person is one of them. 

"Miss McCarthy?" the bellboy called out. 

        Lucille's body gave in to the injuries and fatigue. Her tantrums and fight while ago took a toll in her body. She no longer has the endurance she had three months ago. The pain made her overlook the wrong honorifics. Besides the ache all she can feel is self-pity. That disgusted her even more.  She fought the urge to fall, trying so hard to stay conscious. 

"Bring me to my room...." she whispered with frailty in every word. 

"A-are you sure? I can-" he stammered with concern... with pity. 

"I SAID BRING ME TO MY ROOM!" 

        The wallpapers were ripped by the echoes, some parts of the boy's uniform was torn. It set him straight and alert. The strain made her cough out blood on the floor, that made her stomach churn even more. But Lucille can no longer feign being strong, so she held out her arm, gesturing for someone to lean on and the attendant reluctantly took it after a lot of hesitations. She leaned on him, how low can I go? she thought, that b***h will pay for making a fool of me. 

        She was lead to her new room- it was similar to her previous one; a California King Bed, flat screen T.V.., a top view look to the city, and even an antique looking dresser that has the same magical optimum due to its oak. The Child of Pride brushed away her attendant and tossed him a solid gold coin. She waved her hand to dismiss him and another wave to close the door. She wiped her bloody nose with her arm, smearing her face with red, and then stumbled right into the bed. If it weren't for her quick wits she wouldn't live through that ordeal. It didn't help that as she grows, her health would get worsen. She has no time left. And someone out there has more power beyond her birthrights. This wouldn't happen if Bianca just went- ugh!  she rolled her eyes. 

"Screw you Bianca..." the blonde scoffed weakly.   

            A line of tear rolled as she closed her eyes- done with the day she had, but not yet done with the newfound hatred she has.  She drifted to sleep with heavy heart.