Nights of Hell

III The Night of Chronicle

It had been said, that it would truly be a dark day, when The Fallen returned to the realm he once resided in.

None of Elohim's citizens had any idea what would have happened that day, or even had a warning.

It began ominously, as per usual when the Lord of Darkness was involved with their dealings.

That those so blessed, would be gifted the brazen truth, which would shake their beliefs deep within.

For with this tide of circumstance, something that wasn't meant to ever occur, so did again.

For the first time in several millennia, there was a thunderstorm in Heaven...

James Charlus Potter

(Heaven)

Prior to his demise, James Potter had always heard tales of how pleasant and worthwhile the afterlife would be.

'The Next Great Adventure', the chance to live once more, and reunite with those he'd lost...

Those were lies... and he had listened and loved them.

He walked calmly to his death with those soft falsities rumbling in his mind.

He had thought their sacrifice would be worth it, the world would be saved, their son would live old, and the Potters would live on.

The Potter family was dead, and everything they had known and worked for, was gone forever more.

James Potter was a bitter man.

Now, James and his dear wife were trapped in the domain of an eternal man that neither of them worshiped.

They never praised the man or his work, which many knew would have damned whoever didn't, however... they weren't.

James and Lily both wondered separately why the being known primarily as 'God', would take them into his realm when they had shown him no respect, and wouldn't allow them to leave either...

They had both tried of course, when news of their son had finally surfaced. His young and innocent soul traded for that of a wicked old man who didn't deserve retribution, so Harry Potter was left to fend for himself in a realm of flame and death.

The Potters weren't pleased in the slightest, and within days they had tried everything to leave.

They applied for reincarnation, tried to enter the Wayward Spirit program, tried to find employ in the Guidance Agenda, and finally began to think of simply escaping...

None of them worked, much to their joined sadness, but they knew now... That without the utmost decision, there was no escape from the clouds.

It had just been another day of unhappiness for the two, when James had decided to head to the Pale Senate to plead their case once again, that he froze in his tracks.

James now stood in the center of 'His City', the main capital of their new 'home', in a near famous park that sat on the city's center.

A strong wind blew by him, rustling the trees and plants around him, an eerie howl calling out on the breeze, as if Nature herself were afraid.

What was happening was both extremely confusing, and horrifying to James, as the worst possibility had come to. Though the two Potters had not been dead for too long, they had learned the basics of Heaven easily, and learned what it was like.

They were told that Heaven was a constant state of bliss, warm sunshine, cool winds, light rain.

Everyday was a 'blessing' they were told, that each and every day would be the best, and everything would turn out in the best way every time. It was supposed to be a literal paradise, the works.

When James heard the crackle of thunder, he knew something was deadly wrong, and it made this 'paradise' feel like Hell for those few moments. Fear became feeling.

On instinct, James looked up towards the previously beautiful sky, and noticed a coming darkness that rushed forward, devouring the sky in a ink-like fog..

The clouds began to blacken, heavy rain began to descend, and Heaven's archetype started to twist and warp.

The world morphed around James, turning Heaven itself into a living, breathing creature.

Trees burned and blackened, the harsh dirt beneath his feet turned to brutal mud, buildings melted, and the holy statues surrounding the park turned to demonic beasts, marching around as stone sentiments to reality's monsters. Then, the music began.

Rough, loud music screaming words in such a volume that none of Heaven's citizens could make out what was being sung exactly.

The sound have risen in a quick time, to a level so high, that each resident of the pearly clouds found themself with bloodied ears and loss of hearing. They were quite literally left deaf to their objections.

The song didn't hold James' attention for too long however, as a loud bang echoed out through the realm, an emerald explosion rocketing in the distance.

Though James had only traveled through it once, he had looked through many times, so he knew what had been blown up.

The gate to Heaven had been destroyed.

(NPOV)

Those unfortunate angels who had employment guarding the pearly gates, were now regretting ever signing up.

In the midst of what had seemed to be an average, perfect day, everything literally went to Hell.

Twin angels, Abaziah and Corban, now found themselves planted firmly against the hard ground, unable to move from their pain. The two had just been discussing plans for the day and week, when the tactical outpost that comprised the front gates, exploded outwards.

With the destruction, they flew back from their watchtower, their bodies flying dead through the shrill air.

There was a solid thunk, that the porcelain bodies slammed hard against the cobblestone walls that surrounded the Angelic Outpost, burning pain coursing through their veins. (If they had any.)

The elder of the two, Abaziah, now found himself pin beneath a moving hunk of stone, which rose upwards to encase him in a rocky vice.

Corban, however, got to have an unwanted pleasure.

He was the first to see Heaven's latest visitor.

Lucifer, the Devil himself.

The Dawn of Creation

"Brother... do you ever wonder, why it's only us?" A hollow, odd, but young voice spoke out in the expansion of space. The universe stirred around them, empty and grey, no life persisting besides themselves.

In the empty void of existence, a small plain of land floated in the balance, with two small figures planted firmly on it.

At the center of the floating island, a short, tan sapling stood planted, its thin branches reaching out into the abyss above. It's companion, however, rose from the dirt of the island's edge.

A single black rose, with two shining, copper eyes, its thin frame straining to reach a fraction of the tree's height.

It's white petals shook, as the flower leaned forward, anticipation obvious in it's stance.

It always looked forward to their discussions.

"Yes, I often do... but I feel there are more out there... or there will be." The tree rumbled, a small, wooden face speaking from it's side.

The tree didn't smile, or make much of an expression, but it's words spoke on their own.

An odd warm, but stern thoughtfulness trailed along with the sounds, as the words finished.

"Others? But why haven't we seen them before?" The rose asked, it's gleaming eyes shot open, the possibility surprising it.

"Perhaps... they didn't want to be seen... "

Lucifer

"Elysium, the home of paradise... the birthplace of tranquility... the stronghold of kind and fairness... guarded by two weaklings... " A deep, sharp, and crisp voice spoke in the onslaught of roaring destruction.

In the dark fog that surrounded Heaven's borders, a tall, rail-thin man stood in the shaded murky region beyond.

The man's frame was shrouded in dark red silk clothing, the cloak along with it made the man out to be royalty, just by the look of it and the man. Not counting the noble manner and appearance of the man, there even seemed to be an air of confidence and arrogance floating among him, though one strong emotion over-flooded the others.

Anger.

The sheltered, foolish idiots that lived in the realm swarmed around him, yelling insults and trying to fight him with any method possible. It had been not a single hour, and he had been forced to put down seven of the Powers, and had faced off against two of the powerful Cherubim he had ever seen.

Despite the might of the warriors, his opposition died down with a shuttering, striking lion's roar.

Lucifer ignored the dying beast, as he looked downward at the latest slain, a bulky Cherub with the body of a man, wings of vulture, and face of a lion.

He ignored it's mews, and simply ripped the feline-esque creature apart at the seams, sending scarlet blood and wet tendons falling to the perfected green grass.

He didn't care, the rules had been broken, and he would have no mercy on those that sought to protect the old man.

Heaven would drown in it's mistakes, he would ensure it.

Lucifer made his way through the ideal civilization, ignoring that which he passed, not even noticing a confused and raven haired man that looked much like the reason he came to this realm.

Nevertheless, Lucifer moved forward steadily, the ground burning away to ash from whence he had stepped.

He ignored the trail of ruination he left in his wake, and continued on until he reached what seemed to be a fantastical monument. A dreamful, white palace rested atop the highest hill in the realm, it's tallest peak rising to the very edge of the dimension's reach.

Lucifer thought it was egotistical of his former friend, but then again... Lucifer had a palace much to the same design, and he was the first hypocrite...

Despite this, Lucifer walked onward until he reached the pure, wooden frame that composed the palace's front.

Ignoring courtesy, Lucifer struck forward, his arm dissolving into a shadowy mass, which sank quickly through the aged oak.

Within seconds, dark streaks broke out in the door, causing it to splinter and explode outwards, showering him in dust and woodchipping. With a sharp, malicious grin, Lucifer stepped into the one place he was never meant to be.

The fortress of virtue was now to be ravaged in might and carnage.

Reality's Edge

"Brother! We must seal them out!" The luminous figure shouted out in the harshness of deep space, pushing his spindly form against what appeared to be a gigantic scar.

In the center of what appeared to be a shadowy wall, a large jagged slice swung downward, a shimmering light fluttering through the sliver of shadowy form.

Every so often, a great force would slam against the crack, forcing the man back, only for him to strike forward again against it.

"Why should I? They are the only ones capable of stopping either of us... why would I let you be unstoppable?" A cruel voice asked lowly, as a blackened figure respectfully watched the first from a distance.

The bright man simply stared at his companion in shock, as if he hadn't expected to be rejected so strongly, or at all.

He thought he had been forgiven in the centuries past, but he was corrected to his sadness.

"Lucifer... whatever issues we share, we may resolve them later on. Now, we must stop them!"

The embodiment of light, Elohim the 'god' of creation begged, as he fought against the might of thousands of beings just as or stronger than himself. How he even withstood their rage, he didn't know, but he believed it was due to his faith. His brother would argue otherwise.

"Tell me Elohim, what do you think will come of this? The imprisonment of those that tore us out of the dirt, and made us gods?" Lucifer asked, his eyes piercing the other's, as he stood solemn and firm before him, his face giving no hint to his full state of mind. "That our endless struggles will actually end? That we could forget all that's happened, and live in peace with one another?"

"Lucifer... I do... I know we could move on, could work together to right our wrongs... " Elohim muttered, his dream of earning his brother's forgiveness shattering by the second, along with his will power.

With a sudden impact from the crack, he knew Hastur wouldn't give up easily.

He dreaded to think of what would happen... if he lost... if the crack was ripped apart, and they fled back through. Eternal torture, and ever repeating death would surely be his fate.

"I never took you for an idiot."

Lucifer and Elohim

"Why did you return...?" A tired, shaken voice questioned what appeared to be an empty room, but Elohim knew better. He knew the moment the gates had given in, the moment his subjects lost lives, the moment when the creature of negativity stepped into his kingdom.

With that, Lucifer stepped from the hidden shadows of a nearby pillar, and faced the elderly man that was seated in the room. Elohim remained in his throne-like seat, his form stock-still, his features vacant and illegible

"You broke the rules."

Elohim's eyes widened slightly, before straightening once more. His eons old mind whirled into motion, attempting to decipher what exactly the wax-pale man meant.

He wouldn't however, as their agreement was made long ago, and they both had faced and dealt with many issues and events over the thousands of years since. Elohim simply couldn't remember.

"Which ones?"

At the painless question, Lucifer's face twisted and narrowed, spite and rage shaking in his glance.

"The year 5 B.C, your... offspring was brought into the mortal world, and you declared him your child and proxy... We made an agreement that those we undertook would remain free from our conflicts, and our issues would stay between us... You sent that pompous, feathered prick after Harry Potter." Lucifer snarled, his form blurring forward until his bony grasp was wrapped firmly around Elohim's thin throat.

To add to the man's discomfort, Lucifer's nails sharpened to pinpoints, his thumb now slicing through Elohim's jugular, causing a thin streak of golden blood to pour out.

The elder just gulped, and locked eyes with the man he once regarded and thought of, as his brother.

"Michael... didn't know of our arrangement... I sent him to observe, not intervene... his actions are his own... " Elohim whimpered, his neck and face covered in the essence of immortality, as he felt the agony only a fellow eternal could inflict. Just from Lucifer's grip, he felt his entire being shake, his organs grind and contract against his immortal shell.

It felt as if he had swallowed a savage, rotary blade, which had gone to mayhem with him, destroyed all that which comprised his anatomy.

"Oh, why, my dear brother.... Do I doubt that?"

Neville Longbottom

(The Hospital Wing, Hogwarts, mid afternoon, Saturday, September 21st, 1991)

They were worried of course, after what had happened.

Neville glanced over at his best friend, who seemed just as asleep as he had been for the last few days, of which Neville and a certain blonde had been visiting eagerly for.

Despite the days that had passed, Harry remained within his coma, which he had been told was from 'magical exhaustion.'

Neville knew that was utter shit, as he had seen Harry at the pinnacle of magical combat, using up mountains of magical ability, and he really doubted that Harry would waste such effort on Draco Malfoy.

What was even odder, however, was that Luna didn't remember a thing... She should have, they both knew that, as she had been with Harry during the 'duel', but for some reason... She didn't have a single idea of what happened.

Neville was angry of course, and had even gone after Malfoy, but there wasn't a chance that the sniveling brat he beat to a pulp had done anything.

Now, he just sat in an old, wooden chair at his friend's bedside, watching for any sign of the snarky, high tempered friend he knew was there. He hadn't seen anything though, and that just-

"Ah, damn it Crookshanks!" Neville yelped, prying the rabid cat's jaws from his fingertips, unlatching the little beast's death grip.

He had no clue why, but the rude kitten had taken to biting to express himself. Neville was really starting to believe the 'demonic cat' story Harry had told him.

Said cat however, just stared up from Neville's lap, a malevolent gleam in his small, slitted, golden eyes.

Neville just ignored it, and leaned back against the tan, stone walls of the clinic.

Neville just figured the cat hated him for not being Granger, as he had been told of the first, third year. He didn't like the reminder, especially since in a way, he was the cat's rebound.

He was just starting to doze off, when he heard light footsteps at the entrance of the room, causing him to jolt awake at the slight sound.

After mere seconds, a person he had never before seen stuck their head into the room, before stepping forward.

"You're Neville Longbottom, aren't you?"

Lucifer and Elohim

"I know... you've no reason to trust me... the same with yourself, but... I've only spoken the truth in these years."

The ancient, and wrinkled man muttered, his form pressed against the throne he had called his own, for so very long.

"The truth? Isn't that interesting... are you still telling people that you cast me out? Or that I 'fell' because I became jealous of those fuckwits you made? Explain that, mister lord... " Lucifer growled, his tone both mocking and furious at once, giving off a dangerous and sharp aspect not many saw of the demon king.

The few who did, deserved their fates, and met them swiftly.

"I've... told no lies, you lost your place at my side... when you turned against those you swore to protect... "

Elohim groaned out, his eyes facing the burning gaze of his only kin, besides the young man Elohim had created for the sole purpose of humanity's salvation.

"What about our days in Greece then? You sent me off, and tricked me into leading damned souls to 'rest.' You screwed over both of us... and you saw where that led Ryes... you did this all!" Lucifer roared, his form shifting quickly from the ghostly pale man he had been, to a raging form not that far from the dragons of old, before to that of a different man.

This man had long, straggling midnight hair trailing across his shoulders and skull.

Along with the man's contrasts, were a set of dark, dirty green eyes that shined in the dim light of the throne-room.

As his anger soared, bones and decay began to rise and break through the marble flooring, surrounding the man in an aura of death and fear.

Within seconds, Hades, Lord of the Underworld, Death, and Greed lived once more, but he was not alone.

At the very shift Elohim followed suit, until a muscular, bearded man exploded with electricity, filling with the room with static and light. At the impact, the two gods were thrown apart, only to crash against opposing walls.

As one, the two locked eyes, before flying towards one another.

The sins of both, and those they had known, would face judgment and retribution.

For justice would be found only in conflict, and soaked in the sacred blood of immortals.