Angelic Legeica
Umum maximum..."
Chanting in unison with the others as they inched along the vast hall in a steady procession, Dominic climbed a gentle slope and migrated from the dark, stifling depths of hell to an upperground region that he had never entered before. As he and his fellows crossed the impeccable arched glass bridge that separated the two regions, he observed the assorted skulls and bones piled grotesquely underneath it, said to be spoils from Lucifer's very first feasts. They were of humans and animals of all shapes and sizes, from the tiny newborn to the misshapen, overtoiled elderly. Better these stale reminders than the stark cries of agony issued from them as their souls were converted into demonic lifeforce. For some reason, such cries had always put Dominic on edge instead of exciting him, and as a result he was a much more efficient killer than other comrades who enjoyed tormenting their food.
The last of the party had crossed the bridge and finally arrived at the Pool of Rites for their transformation. Here, their appearances would be readied for their missions on Earth - the demons would infiltrate schools, hospitals, and all sorts of large governmental organisations to lead the weak- willed straight to Lucifer. Dominic was picked for a... unique position, and he knew the post would be challenging. He watched in trepidation as, one after the other, the demons' hands were slit and they leapt into the pool, emerging with no trace of their fur, horns or leathery wings. He took a deep breath, accepted the sharp slash, and plunged into the murky waters.
***
Three earthly years had passed since the charismatic Reverend Dominic had joined the parish. Every day, he would lead the congregation, listen to simple confessions, and arrange for the occasional visit to some elderly home. The people of his tranquil village rarely even stole, and even if someone did it was an egg rather than oxen, and they returned to their neighbour double the goods before coming to him and telling him the whole story. On another occasion, he'd had someone repenting for raising their voice to their wife - the family's affairs seemed fine now as Dominic had just christened their baby just this past month. The Hon. Rev. was a routine job with little training required - all Dominic had to do was basically pick a parable from the holy book, narrate it in a straightforward fashion and add in mild peppers of punishments undertaken by sinners in the demonic world as foretold warnings. He could perfectly time when to stop now via occasional glances at the faces of the little ones in the front pew and sidestep the trouble of dealing with wailing outbursts and complaints from concerned parents.
Dominic had his eye on one of the older boys, who had all indications of joining the children's choir next year. The boy was the eldest of three brothers. He looked forward to red- robing the golden cherubs and adding to his collection that way, now much preferring his specimens with flesh, blood and their minds intact. As he prepared his sermons, he would snack on the bread, milk and fresh produce generously given to him. Sometimes, he would scratch his stomach absentmindedly through his dark robes to lessen the hunger pangs and postpone his lengthy drive to the deserted seashore where he feasted monthly.
***
Another three months had passed by, and Dominic was hungry and doing his least favorite activity. Again. He wished he could just... not eat. He wished human food could satisfy him. Systematically wringing the neck of each bird and reducing them instantly to a lifeless pile brought him no joy. His human years of biblical study taught him why - what he had always felt for his victims was pity. Demons were not meant to have pity - they were meant to destroy souls and think only of their own needs. Listlessly staring at his birds, an idea suddenly came to him. With quick motions, he plucked the feathers from each seagull, burying each bird with a prayer as he went and stuffed the feathers into his rucksack. Soon, his rucksack was full and he turned to leave. He would fashion his own pair of angelic wings with God's grace and maybe someday he would be able to become a true convert.
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Recondite
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