Lucyfer
I made something that'll love me even when I won't
Leah Aberline had been told countless stories about the “amusement park in the woods”, but when the brunette finally walked out to it after 23 years of hearing about it, she found it rather disappointing. There was no ghostly man hosting it. The rides that were broken down and covered in ivy didn’t move.
Given, when her blue eyes took in the clown faces on the bumper cars, she felt a chill, but that would creep anyone out. ‘How did kids even think this was fun?’ Leah wondered as her black boots crushed the grass and weeds beneath her feet. ‘How did anyone think clowns were fun?’ Leah wasn’t scared of clowns, persay, but she didn’t see how they were anymore funny for their makeup. A man getting hit in the face with a pie was funny regardless of if he had on white makeup.
Her steps led her by other decrepit rides, until she came to a building. “Huh,” she looked up at the sign, “A house of mirrors,” and from the looks of it, still in perfect condition. She didn’t see any cracks in the mirrors from where she stood. No graffiti, either.
Naturally curious, she walked on towards the building and dug out her phone to snap a picture of the place, sending it in a quick text to a few friends to comment on how this, of all things, was the only interesting part of the amusement park. Once it was sent, she pocketed her phone once more and walked on to see if she could navigate the mirrors, just for the hell of it.
After all, she’d normally have to pay for this.
Her reflection followed her at every turn, and she laughed a bit at how ridiculous she looked when thinking over the best way through. Her scrunched up expression always amused her.
That was, until she caught sight of a reflection that was, most definitely, not hers. For one, it was wearing red—Leah had chosen to wear a dark blue camisole and black jeans. This figure wore red, loud and proud, as a dress. The figure, from the brief image, also seemed to have white-blonde hair.
Yet, when Leah turned to face it, she saw nothing. ‘Just your mind playing tricks.’ She tried to convince herself of that when she looked away, but it appeared out of the corner of her eye. She turned quickly, but couldn’t catch it in her direct sight.
So, like any person who hasn’t seen nearly enough horror movies to know the right thing to do, Leah reached out to the mirror that held the image, and watched her hand pass right through it. ‘Smoke and mirrors?’ Leah never knew smoke to hold an image, though. She didn’t feel any heat. She didn’t feel anything, so she stepped right through it.
Mirrors weren’t what surrounded her any longer.
~***~
To say that Michael was upset with the Leader of Hell would be an understatement. The one so many humans knew as Lucifer had overstepped bounds the angels thought existed, and referencing Paradise Lost had not helped matters. At all.
“But Michael, I thought He controlled all that I could do. Clearly He wanted this to happen.”
And so, the Angel of Light was bound in hell with chains that were made of something only space dwarves could have created, or such was the joke to annoy Michael even further. Usually, these things were easy to get out of, but not then. Each movement caused a sharp thorn to embed itself into the limbs of the beautiful creature, and no amount of bleeding ichor seemed to lubricate things enough for any limb to be pulled free.
Most annoying were the way that the gorgeous white wings were pinned.
The Angel of Light was pride incarnate, and the wings were everything, still beautiful and still light. The Angel of Light refused to move in any way that would damage them.
That issue of pride also meant there was a mirror nearby, set by the bastard of an angel Michael, so that the Angel of Light could witness their own predicament. Lucifer certainly wasn't happy with her own image. The red ichor covered her body like a dress, and the open wounds were not pretty to see, but she couldn't heal them. Every time they healed, some movement of hers opened it right back up. Her white hair was stained red, too. The only thing still in perfect condition were her wings.
The mirror also, however, let her see out into the world that could no longer be reached. Naturally, this was only going to be used for evil. There was a human foolish enough to step onto ground that the Angel considered its own property, and so, a game was set.
Lucifer’s smile widened as the angel sent her own, beautiful image onto one of the mirrors to draw the human in. It wasn't how she presently looked, but how she so often did--dressed loudly in red attire, with her hair its pure white hue. It would certainly startle the poor human. ‘Honestly, Michael. You knew this was a bad idea.’
Actually, he probably didn’t. Thick-headed, him.
Given, when her blue eyes took in the clown faces on the bumper cars, she felt a chill, but that would creep anyone out. ‘How did kids even think this was fun?’ Leah wondered as her black boots crushed the grass and weeds beneath her feet. ‘How did anyone think clowns were fun?’ Leah wasn’t scared of clowns, persay, but she didn’t see how they were anymore funny for their makeup. A man getting hit in the face with a pie was funny regardless of if he had on white makeup.
Her steps led her by other decrepit rides, until she came to a building. “Huh,” she looked up at the sign, “A house of mirrors,” and from the looks of it, still in perfect condition. She didn’t see any cracks in the mirrors from where she stood. No graffiti, either.
Naturally curious, she walked on towards the building and dug out her phone to snap a picture of the place, sending it in a quick text to a few friends to comment on how this, of all things, was the only interesting part of the amusement park. Once it was sent, she pocketed her phone once more and walked on to see if she could navigate the mirrors, just for the hell of it.
After all, she’d normally have to pay for this.
Her reflection followed her at every turn, and she laughed a bit at how ridiculous she looked when thinking over the best way through. Her scrunched up expression always amused her.
That was, until she caught sight of a reflection that was, most definitely, not hers. For one, it was wearing red—Leah had chosen to wear a dark blue camisole and black jeans. This figure wore red, loud and proud, as a dress. The figure, from the brief image, also seemed to have white-blonde hair.
Yet, when Leah turned to face it, she saw nothing. ‘Just your mind playing tricks.’ She tried to convince herself of that when she looked away, but it appeared out of the corner of her eye. She turned quickly, but couldn’t catch it in her direct sight.
So, like any person who hasn’t seen nearly enough horror movies to know the right thing to do, Leah reached out to the mirror that held the image, and watched her hand pass right through it. ‘Smoke and mirrors?’ Leah never knew smoke to hold an image, though. She didn’t feel any heat. She didn’t feel anything, so she stepped right through it.
Mirrors weren’t what surrounded her any longer.
~***~
To say that Michael was upset with the Leader of Hell would be an understatement. The one so many humans knew as Lucifer had overstepped bounds the angels thought existed, and referencing Paradise Lost had not helped matters. At all.
“But Michael, I thought He controlled all that I could do. Clearly He wanted this to happen.”
And so, the Angel of Light was bound in hell with chains that were made of something only space dwarves could have created, or such was the joke to annoy Michael even further. Usually, these things were easy to get out of, but not then. Each movement caused a sharp thorn to embed itself into the limbs of the beautiful creature, and no amount of bleeding ichor seemed to lubricate things enough for any limb to be pulled free.
Most annoying were the way that the gorgeous white wings were pinned.
The Angel of Light was pride incarnate, and the wings were everything, still beautiful and still light. The Angel of Light refused to move in any way that would damage them.
That issue of pride also meant there was a mirror nearby, set by the bastard of an angel Michael, so that the Angel of Light could witness their own predicament. Lucifer certainly wasn't happy with her own image. The red ichor covered her body like a dress, and the open wounds were not pretty to see, but she couldn't heal them. Every time they healed, some movement of hers opened it right back up. Her white hair was stained red, too. The only thing still in perfect condition were her wings.
The mirror also, however, let her see out into the world that could no longer be reached. Naturally, this was only going to be used for evil. There was a human foolish enough to step onto ground that the Angel considered its own property, and so, a game was set.
Lucifer’s smile widened as the angel sent her own, beautiful image onto one of the mirrors to draw the human in. It wasn't how she presently looked, but how she so often did--dressed loudly in red attire, with her hair its pure white hue. It would certainly startle the poor human. ‘Honestly, Michael. You knew this was a bad idea.’
Actually, he probably didn’t. Thick-headed, him.
