Chrono Crusade Fan Fiction ❯ Pandemonium Moment ❯ Astral ( Chapter 2 )

The Pandemonium Moment

By Prinder

 

Rated: R for violence, Religious warping, and questionable topics.

Summary: Discover the lost history behind the making of Earth, heaven, and hell. As the lines between good and evil become blurred, how will the children of the times be able to cope with what is about to come?

Disclaimer: Chrono Crusade does not belong to me.

Legend: “talking”

`thinking'

reading

written

“Talk Electronically sent somehow”

 

 

Chapter two: Astral

 

 

“…Rain, to wash away the sin.” A man stated to himself, looking up as the sky darkened and thunder began to roll overhead. Turning his collar up and pressing his felt hat to his head to secure it, he trudged along New York's dirty streets, passing only few people on his walk, as it was actually quite late—even for the city that never sleeps.

 

“This soiled three-ring circus of vanity. Who embraces mortal hell, who endures waking shame? Foul speech from foul lips. Woman of sin and men of vice, your bitter taste is vulgar to my mouth. I spit you and bid you cleanse yourself of this filth.” He spat, talking to no one, though everyone who had the misfortune of passing him heard.

 

The reactions to him varied; some chose to shy away from him silently because they thought he was slightly insane; some turned, once they had past him, and made vulgar gestures at his back when he wasn't looking; others, who had seen him before, chose to sidestep him completely and cross the street to avoid him. In the end, however, very few seemed to take pity on him—even rarer than the ones who nodded or exclaimed their agreement (in public, or in private, later).

 

Many people knew him, though, under this guise, they may not have realized it; you could not even make out the color of his skin in the trench coat that he had donned. Under this knee-length jacket and floppy-brimmed hat, many would have been surprised that the things he had said actually came out of his mouth. His skin was a warm, creamy-mocha, and youthful in it's smoothness. His eyes were hazel, though, if asked, he would say that they change depending on his mood. His voice was somber and made people drowsy when he spoke softly to them. He was well-dressed, gray slacks, white button shirt with a ribbon tie at his neck with black suspenders and brown vest with a pocket watch chain hanging out in plain view. His hair was salt and peppered black and gray, and he kept a bushy (but well groomed) beard. He wasn't tall, nor was he thin, but neither was he fat or short. He was a healthy shape, and slightly toned.

 

`Which impression would be the most lasting? A withering old man who has succumbed to a fire in his brain and age? Or a portly gentleman who speaks calmly and behaves comely and evenhanded?' He pondered, stepping out of the rain and into a smoky barroom.

 

“We is closing soon, pops. You have time for a drink, but we can't keep you much longer than that.” A man at the bar said as he wiped it down. The bar was empty, save for them.

 

“How gracious.” He replied as he removed his coat and hat, setting them on a set of hooks by the door to dry before walking over to the bar, his stride slow and stiff. “Bourbon to warm me up will do, thank you, and then I will be on my way.”

 

“Yeah. You got it, boss.” The bartender said, filling a shot glass. “What brings you out in this weather and this late at night? You didn't come for drink, that's for certain.” He joked as he passed the glass to the man.

 

“I've been away for a great long time, you could say.” He replied, tipping the glass to his lips to take a drink.

 

`I have loved you like no other…'

 

`Come with me.'

 

“Hey, boss? You okay?” The bartender asked, waving a hand in front of the older man's face.

 

The man blinked, regaining his awareness. “Oh! I'm so sorry. You caught me remembering, it seems.”

 

`I can't stand them looking at you!'

 

“What about? You were out of it, just staring at the mirror,” The bartender motioned his thumb at the mirrored wall behind him, “for a good five minutes.”

 

“That is a long story. You wouldn't want to listen to that! You're closing soon.”

 

`Is it man's fault for wanting perfection? Or is it the fault of perfection for being so perfect that man would want her? Or is it the fault of the thing that made them both with the qualities to have vanity and greed, and tells them it is their fault for having those feelings?'

 

“Tell you what, sir. I'm not in any rush to get out into that rain either. If you can keep me entertained until it stops. I will not only let you stay here with me, but I'll buy that drink in your hand.”

 

“Well then, I can't pass up an offer like that.” The man chuckled, “It seems like just yesterday…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Who is God? An alien force, or a phenomenon that man named? Whatever God is, it is me. When I spoke with the man in the bar, the story I am going to write here, while it was similar, this is the one true truth.

 

This story begins before time began. In the dust of an explosion, I was born; a Phoenix rising from the ashes; a shadow that walked on the milky way. Earth, as I found it, was naught but a vacant orb without atmosphere. I thought `here will be my magnum opus.' But I, though I knew that I held the power to make life, I had not enough of it to make life on this planet.

 

There, on this planet's surface, I sat and contemplated the solution, I would make a being who could make power. I gave the solution the name: Pandemonium. A moment chaotic disarray before a new order could be made.

 

For her hair, I made silk strands, thin and lustrous; the same silk I would give to spiders, worms, caterpillars, and gypsy moths. In her eyes, I pulled down stars from the universe, and from my own blood, I gave them color. Her skin was smooth and soft and chilled; this I also used to make moonlight. Her voice was made into my waves and oceans. For her crown, I gave her blood drops and silver horns, sleek and ornate; she commanded power. This woman, as I would call her, would be my ideal perfection. Even as I made her, I fell in love with her. I clothed her in shadows and breathed life into her lungs with a kiss.

 

With Pandemonium, I was able to take all the power I needed, which she collected from the sun, moon, and stars themselves with her horns; with her, I made this land full in six days. In celebration, I bid that she lay with me in Heaven and watch Man make it's first movements.

 

“Lord, I am lonely; There are none who love me, none who are like me. There is no one to love but you and the land you have given me.”

 

Adam. When I realized what I had forgotten, I wept, for I had love from Pandemonium; who knew nothing but loving me. Seeing my tears, she gave me her solution, which she named Lillim.

 

Lillim, who's hair was made from blackbirds, and skin from snow, eyes of forget-me-nots and lips like rose petals. All she lacked was soul.

 

“What have you done?!” I demanded to know. How could my Pandemonium go behind my back and use her power for anything but me?

 

“Now your man will have love. She is perfect, Jehovah, is she not?” How could I stay angry at her heart? How could I become jealous of her power, of the perfect woman that I made?

 

“How could you do this?! This wasn't what I wanted! Fine! She will join man, but she will be vain and be full of greed and evil. Man should never ask God of anything, for they will get just what they deserve!”

 

“No, Jehovah! You can't! Jehovah!”

 

Even when her daughter betrayed Adam, she still sided with her child. Eventually, my malice began to fade, and I began to love her again. My Pandemonium would worship and honor my laws from now on.

 

Then Adam returned to me, and asked for love again. This time, and, to give him his wish, I took his rib—because to know love you must have pain—and made Eve.

 

But Eve was imperfect, as imperfect as Adam.

 

“Jehovah! Why have you made something so flawed when Lillim could have been perfection?! Why? You made her into a beautiful monster and give him this shell of a thing in her place?!” This time, it was her turn to be enraged, and in her anger, she willed Eve to be too giving, made her bleed every month, caused woman to suffer, made men suffer to know moods and feelings of irrationality. Then she made Knowledge.

 

“Pandemonium! What is this?! Man should never know the secrets of my power! I am omnipotent! You fool of a woman! How dare you undermine me!”

 

“How dare you use my child as a means to torture me! Return her goodness! Return it!”

 

“Never!” And I made the serpent and told Adam and Eve to never touch the fruit. But she was not done, she then gave them curiosity, freewill, and desire, lust, and they succumbed to temptation.

 

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” I screamed at them, banishing them from my Eden, my garden of delight, and then I turned to Pandemonium and seethed. Why did she continue to cross me?!

 

By this time, she had given birth to another child, Lucifer. His hair was like her own, his eyes matching that of his sisters, and on his head were horns. Horns black horns, sleek like her own, but dark and foreboding.

 

“What is this?” I had asked her when she had first shown him to me. She had only said that she gave him power to serve me, that he would serve his father as Lucifer Angel of Light, and his power would come from her. At first, I had been touched, but now I had clearly seen that she was going to use him to take my place if I allowed him to continue working under me.

 

“They have a right to know your faults! They should know your taint as much as they know Lillim's! Your jealousy! Your Envy! Your Pride! Your Ego! You Vanity! You LUST for power! They have a right to know how malevolent their creator is—“

 

“SHUT UP!”

 

This was when I stripped her brethren, who she had made from my astral, taking power from me and from my humans. I ripped them from their holy titles, and threw them down. I cast her son into the furthest pits of Hell and I locked her into limbo. Then I turned on her children, I again attacked Lillim and implanted into her mind a burning desire for her brother, and allowed her to slowly grow mad.

 

It was a long time before I could look at her again. Out of anger, and out of shame, I could not stand to face my Pandemonium; she was right about everything, but I was controlled by my pride—just as she had said—and would not admit, nor correct, or make amends, for my mistakes.

 

Man continued to thrive with knowledge, and many times I sought to control the that plague she had unleashed from her astral Pandora's Box. As she sat, lamenting and crying bitter tears, time passed and I discovered the Virgin. She was beautiful, and was nearly as angelic as my archangels, but more delicate than an ice crystal. She was everything man would want. Watching her in her garden, I had an epiphany.

 

“Give me this one thing, Pandemonium, and I swear that I will undo all of my injustices towards you.” I had asked her, kneeling at her feet.

 

“If I do this? If I let the human virgin carry our child…? Yes, Jehovah, for our children, for you, I will consent to that.”

 

And thus Emanuel was given to Mary, and I started to undo my harms that I did to Pandemonium. But man had grown lustful, and when she walked among them, they desired her, wanted her, and I grew bitter. I accused her of using her powers to get their attention, accused her of loving them more than me. She denied it all, but I was beyond all reason. In the end, I forcefully removed the child from her womb and locked her away again, swearing that no other would have her but me. To make sure of this, I stole her head and hid it in Purgatory.

 

To erase the feelings of obligation and guilt for Pandemonium, I told Gabriel, one of my archangels, to tell Mary and Joseph that he would be a boy, and he would be called Jesus.

 

But Lucifer had laid a plot into motion, with the last of his mother's power, he willed for his brother's form to be visible to all of my worshippers. His acceptance would only be received by the faithless and blind; my ideal plan would never be realized through him now. Thus all order was thrown out of balance and a new way was created, one that served Jesus. He was supposed to wage a war and destroy those who opposed my laws, instead he gathered these forces under his wing—for these were the only ones who did not see his horns—and caused a revolution. He took his legions and rallied against my temples and priests, not with weapons, but with words. Still, this was a violation of my greatest law, and for that, I devised a punishment that would be fitting for his crimes.

 

Eternal repercussions, ones to last a thousand of his lifetimes. I locked his holy men at the gates into Heaven, and I twisted the threads of time to punish Pandemonium and Lucifer for their hand in this. They would suffer for betraying me, and I would use Magdalene to do it.

 

Love God, fear God. He is a jealous God, and a benevolent God. He is Alpha and Omega. The one that makes and the one that destroys.

 

“For I have loved you like no other, Pandemonium.” I still recall those days of my own innocence, when all I needed was Pandemonium by my side.

 

“Come with me…” And all that she cared for was me, and all she desired was my happiness.

 

How can God lose his way on the path to the holiness that he created?

 

Not even I know.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Now you see what a foolish man is, when you see him. Young man, if ever you love a woman, always forgive her for her infuriating ways, never raise a hand to her, and apologize as though, without her, you would never be able to breathe.” The man said, placing his money onto the counter for his drink and moving to stand, grunting and groaning as his joints creaked and ached.

 

“What's that, boss? I told you I would pay for it. Keep your money.” The Bartender said, motioning to the dollar coin on his counter as he put his broom away, he had been sweeping the floor while he listened to the old man. “But tell me, you still haven't explained why you're out here on a night like this.”

 

“That's a story for another time. One that I will get into eventually, God willing.” The old man replied, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

 

“I hear you. Okay then, your coat looks dry now, and the rain has died down some. I think it's time we got out on our own. You don't have to go home, boss, but you can't stay here, I'm afraid.”

“You have already been more than kind, bless you.” The old man replied as he made it up the three steps to the landing, taking his coat off of the hook along with his hat and donning them.

 

“Back at you, boss. Tell the Mrs. I said hello.” The bartender said, opening the door, holding it for him before following, closing and locking it securely with a key.

 

Tipping his felt hat to the man, God smiled tiredly, “Thank you,” He said. He continued down the street, as though he had never stopped at all.

 

“There's a good man for you.” The bartender said, whistling as he pocketed his key and headed for his apartment two blocks away.

 

Too bad that he failed to notice how the aged man went back to walking hunched over, muttering curses under his breath, or how the rain seemed to steadily grow stronger as he continued to do so. He also failed to see the car that came around a blind corner and was unable to stop when he stepped out into the street.

 

“Sunday shall be kept for the Sabbath, and no work shall be done on this day… That is the order ordained by God almighty. Praise him, lambs, and he shall protect thy flock.”

 

In the distance, ambulance sirens blared into the rainy night.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“How many more weeks until your baby is due, Samantha?” her best friend, Ellen, asked her as she fluffed the pillows in her chair before helping Samantha ease back onto them.

 

Samantha giggled, giddy with finally being able to hold her baby in her arms. “Any day now, Ellen. I'm so excited, and nervous! Louis is crawling up the walls trying to get the apartment ready in time.” She replied as she perched her tea cup on her bloated abdomen; there were some perks to being 9 months pregnant, lazing about with Ellen with tea and cookies was one of them.

 

“Have you picked out names yet?” Ellen asked, sitting down herself, adding some molasses to her cup and waiting for it to dissolve. She had to admire her friend's motherly glow; even after the shock of being pregnant, being kicked out of her parent's house, moving in with her off-and-on employed fiancé. Despite her life being turned upside down and inside out, she seemed to be able to cope marvelously well.

 

“If it is a girl, it will be Yessica, and if it is a boy, it will be Yashua.” Samantha replied, her dark green eyes shining as she swept her brown bangs way from her face, they were sticking in the late July heat, sitting on Ellen's balcony.

 

Ellen, who was a copper-redhead, raised an eyebrow. “Those are unusual.”

 

“I know, but I wanted it to be a name that I could call out onto a busy street and they wouldn't question if it was for them!”

 

“Don't tell me that you are expecting a ruffian!” Ellen chided, “That's so unfair! You're too good for that! How will you cope?”

 

“Only the Holy Woman would know. I had a dream of her before I discovered I was pregnant, you know.”

 

Ellen smiled shyly. Maybe the source of Samantha's strength was her unwavering faith in that Holy Woman. So many people said that she came from God, but she came and went, all without doing much of anything. Ellen was always a bit of a skeptic, but she still loved Samantha, even after her friend joined the Church of the Divine Holy Woman; everyone was so strange there, and they talked in tongues and did strange things with snakes; she was sure of it. If it wasn't for the fact that Louis was so fiercely protective of Samantha, Ellen would have been convinced that they really were a demonic cult. “What does your Minister say?”

 

“Oh, Pastor Franklin is so funny, he's always saying strange things about everything.” Samantha said, brushing the subject aside. “How's Bob?”

 

“Uh, Bobby? Oh that man of mine!” Ellen exclaimed, “Did you know that he thought he could fix the whole in the roof on his own? He's never laid a shingle in his life! I told him, `honey, be careful, knowing your luck with tools, you could very well just fall and impale yourself on a tack!'”

 

“That's just like a man! He didn't listen, did he? What happened?”

 

“Umhum! Just like a man. Of course, he gets up there, and the first thing he does is, he catches his foot on the last step, and knocks down the ladder!”

 

“Ohno!”

 

“That wasn't the half of it,” Ellen continued, not hearing the distress in her friend's voice, nor did she see how Samantha groped her belly. “He nearly dropped it right onto me! I was so mad at him!”

 

“Ohno! Ellen—“

 

“I know! I told him so, and then I said that, until Charlie, he's our neighbor across the street, came home, he was going to sit up there and wait. I wasn't going to move that heavy ladder on my own, that's for sure.” Ellen laughed.

 

“Ellen I think—“

 

“Oh don't worry. Bless Charlie, thank God he came home early that day or—“

 

“ELLEN!”

 

Ellen's eyes went wide with shock as she looked at her friend with alarm. “S-Samantha?”

 

“G-get Louis. It's time!” Samantha panted as Ellen stood up swiftly and raced out of the room, calling for Samantha's fiancé. `I can't believe it's finally time…' Samantha thought as she remembered what the midwives told her; one breath in, two sharp ones out, repeat. Samantha moaned through another contraction while thinking, `It's just started so soon. I can't wait to see your face, too, my baby.'

 

“Samantha!” Louis called, running over to the open door that led out onto the porch, his forehead perspiring. “Ellen's starting her car. Let's go, Samantha. We—I can get your bag once you're at the hospital. Oh Why did we leave it at our place today?” He cried, a complete jumble of nerves.

 

“Only the Holy woman knows, Louis…” Samantha said breathlessly as he helped her out of the chair and down the stairs of the apartment complex.

 

“C'mon, c'mon, you stupid piece of—“ Ellen cursed as she tried to get the engine to turn over. `UGH! What a time for you to not start!' she thought, glancing up to see Louis and Samantha walking down the last few steps, renewing her efforts, she tried the key again, “please, please, please—“ The engine sputtered to life, “YES! That's my girl!” Ellen cried, shifting into gear and sticking her head out her already rolled down window, “Hurry, while my car still likes me!”

 

“Thank you, Ellen.” Louis said, sighing with relief as he helped Samantha into the back seat, closing the door carefully so that he didn't catch her summer dress between it and the frame. He paused only for a moment to gather his wits before running a dark-tanned hand through his black hair and running around the front of the car, rapping his knuckles on the hood for good luck, and climbing into the passenger seat in front. “Do you need directions?”

 

“That might not be a bad idea, Lou.” Ellen said, falling back on her old Chicago accent, like she usually did when she was feeling stressed and worried. She adjusted the mirror to look at Samantha's reflection. “How are you holding up back there, sweetheart?” She asked the other woman.

 

“I'm Jake, Ellen, don't mind us, just do what you need to do.”

 

Ellen smiled, “Don't worry, My driving is top-notch,” she said, pulling out of her parking place and following Louis' directions to the hospital.

 

Twenty minutes later, Louis was rapping his fingers on the dashboard. “Top-notch, huh?”

 

“Look, smart-aleck, it -is- top-notch, it's EVERY OTHER DRIVER ON THIS HIGHWAY that stinks!” Ellen yelled and blared her horn at what may as well just been a parking lot. `Just what are all of these people doing out at this time of day?' she thought as she adjusted her death-grip on the steering wheel only to be snapped out of her inner complaints by Samantha wailing in agony in the back seat.

 

Louis turned in his seat and reached for his Fiancée's hand. “Just a little longer, Samantha,” he said reassuringly.

 

Samantha doubled over herself in a spasm, “I don't think it can last any longer, Louis! I can feel it coming!”

 

“You can't have the baby in my car!” Ellen squeaked, panicked.

 

“You try convincing it that!” Samantha screamed as she fought the urge to push.

 

Louis looked pale, his eyes staring down at the blood that was slowly seeping into the seats. “E-Ellen, stop the car and turn on the hazards…”

 

Ellen nearly swerved into the car next to them with shock as she turned her attention to him, “Do what?!”

 

“ON THE ROAD! KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!” Louis screamed, pointing ahead of them, just in time to get shoved into the windshield by the force of Ellen slamming on the brakes, barely stopping them from hitting the car in front of them. “Stop the car! Samantha can't make it there now! We have to deliver the baby here!”

 

“This is insane!” Ellen exclaimed over Samantha's screams of pain while she turned the hazards on and shifted to the side of the road, halfway into the ditch. “Okay, do it your way.”

 

“Do you have a blanket, a towel or something in here we can use to wrap up the baby?” Louis asked, looking around frantically.

 

“The trunk! I keep one in the trunk!” Ellen replied, pushing her door open and diving outside, running for the back of her car to get it.

 

Louis bit his lip as he braced himself, getting out of the car as well, walking to the door to the back seats to get to Samantha easier. Opening the other side door, he instructed her to put her legs up on the backs of the seats, he instantly felt guilty when she looked at him, her eyes wide with fear. “It's going to be all right, Samantha, trust me,” he said sadly, trying to comfort her.

 

“Here's the blanket.” Ellen said, passing it to Louis and giving Samantha a brave smile. “Hang in there kiddo, there's not much further to go.”

 

Louis nodded and turned back to Samantha, “Now, on your next contraction, I need you to push with everything you have.” Seeing her nod and inhale to brace herself.

 

Ellen could only stand back in horror as Samantha slowly pushed and struggled the baby out. It was a boy, and he didn't even make a sound as he taken from the womb into the world, not even when he was cut from his umbilical cord with Louis' penknife, but that wasn't why she was so floored. Louis tried to keep his movements steady as soon as he first saw the child's head come out, even when he wrapped him up in the picnic blanket and cleared his throat as best as he could with his fingers, Louis managed to keep his expression even and unreadable.

 

Ten fingers.

 

And Ten perfect toes.

 

And two short spikes of bone protruding from the sides of his head.

 

`Oh my dear sweet God, what is it?'

 

 

Chapter two end

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

 

Well, there you have it. How did you like the portrayal of God? So, what is your verdict? Who is the worst, Pandemonium, or Jehovah? Who is the bad guy? My goal was to install anger and sympathy for both of them, because they didn't originally intend to become corrupt, but it's clear that we haven't seen the last of their past.

 

And what did you think of Samantha, Louis, and Ellen? How would you act in their shoes?

 

As always, I kindly ask you to read and review! What do I need to do to improve as a writer? Suggestions, comments, ideas, wondering just what sort of bag I'm in? Let me have it! I'm all for constructive criticism.

 

Ciao!

 

~Prinder