Lilith Versus The Seven Demon Gods [ONC 2024]

Chapter One: Metal Amalgam

"I will make you, Lilith, and the woman Eve hate each other; her offspring and yours will always be enemies. Her offspring will crush your head, and you will bite her offspring's heel."

This was what Yaldabaoth told her, and as such, this was how Lilith would be remembered. She became the mother of demons who preyed on children and pregnant women. The one who stole the seeds of men at night only to be threatened to drown beneath the sea, with hundreds of her children killed per day.

But who is Lilith?

She is a goddess, the only daughter of Yaldabaoth, and should have been a queen on earth. A queen in her mid-twenties with a crown of pouffe on her head that her red standing locks conceal—the famed hairstyle of Marie Antoinette—with even curls falling on each side. A guillotine is etched on her throat as a spiked choker, strangling her without ever killing her.

On her right arm was a golden serpent bracelet—Cleopatra's symbols of power and authority as a Pharaoh. The reptile slithers there with its venom, close but also far from Lilith's mouth.

Lilith too wears a dress of the folk alike to the Empress, Catherine the Great. One that was long from head to toe except in black with a large cut on the side to reveal her legs, or perhaps her high, hefty boots.

Whatever she is, Lilith's reflection is trapped in a glass coated with a metal amalgam—the combination of life and death. She appears clouded in dirt in a mirror stuck against a wall with bottles of alcohol resting on it. She couldn't even recognise her own slumping self on that bar stool, and the lace strip over her eyes didn't help to see anything clearer, yet she had to put it on to hide her ethereal ruby iris.

Hundreds of conversations dominate the room where she is. Loud voices compete with the even louder rock music. The crowd is young under its intoxication; the crowd is wild tonight at the bar.

"Hey!" a dragon behind the counter shouts at her, but she is too numb and wasted to even notice it. Only a burp escapes through her red lips. The angry bartender then hit his powerful fist on the table. All the glasses leap and break at once for Lilith to only raise her head in his direction. "Lilith, time to pay your bills for the seven litres of blood that I ever pumped out of any dead human body for you to drink, or you'll never come back again at the Noah's Ark!"

Lilith rolls her eyes and drops on the counter a handful of gilded jewellery, but he throws them all back to her.

"No. Gold." He spits into her face before frowning closer at her. "I want the apple."

Lilith tilts her head back and lets out a low growl. In response to her insult, he seizes her by the neck, dragging her even closer. He, too, can snarl, and it's with actual smoke coming out of his snout.

"You know how to go there and back, right?" His eyes widens at her composure. "So give me my apple of knowledge!"

Lilith smiles and puts this time a bag of red apples over the counter. The bartender lets go of her to seize one fruit. She slaps his hand though, making him drop the apple before saying, "Only those red inside out are the right ones." Then she picks the same apple up and bites into it to prove him of her good words.

The bartender snatches the fruit back from her hand. A gleam sparkles in his eyes as he licks his lips in hunger, but after one bite, he realises it's just a simple royal gala. He tosses it away and grumbles in madness, but nothing could change the fact that Lilith fooled him and that she was now nowhere to be seen.

This is modern day; this is the material world, and Lilith is now outside the bar, walking up and down the street for one car aligned there to catch her heart. She stands in front of one of them, a low-body vehicle designed for speed, high acceleration, and red hot like her hair. With one stretched hand stroking over the cabriolet's shell, it opens itself and lowers its roof, inviting her to sit in. Lilith smirks as the beast's engine roars to temptation.

Nothing ever belongs to anyone, as no one ever owns a thing.

She leaps into its driver's seat and straps its belt over her body. Even without a key, it turns itself on for her to take control.

Lilith is going slow but in rhythm to the wind as it blows across her face, removing the terrible memories and injecting her with some of its freedom. She takes a deep breath and presses hard on the clutch. Lilith knows everything about a car—how to put the radio on it, how to drive it—except she is utterly blind to the traffic lights. The car accelerates to its maximum speed in the wrong lane, with many avoiding her path while others honk at her, but Lilith couldn't care less—she is too high on this drug.

She is laughing out loud as her body deprives itself of its senses, even forgetting her name and who she is. With her hands still gripping the stirring wheel, everything slows down to become peaceful. Nothing matters in this euphoria. Nothing means nothing anymore until a black, cloaked shade captures her sight.

Her eyes widen at him on the side of the road, with her mouth letting out a gasp—a movement too late before her stolen cabriolet crashes into a lamppost. Smoke bursts out of the engine while Lilith limps out of the airbag with only a few scratches. She lays down on the pavement, frozen on the spot, her chin still quivering at the image of the stranger.

Shrouded in black, armed with power and sophistication, strong and intimidating, and exuding authority like men from Eden.

Coughing and throwing up at their memory, Lilith wipes her mouth and gets on her feet before anyone can come to her help. The street is empty, and the building has been forgotten by the inhabitants of the town, giving Lilith the best opportunity to hurry into it. The staircase is narrow with broken steps and the police's sirens is echoing at her car crash site, but she climbs to the roof, hiding there on top to watch over the whole area.

Lilith becomes master of the night, a master lost in the wonder if humankind has never known what she did for them instead of just celebrating another new year's eve. Her knees buckle down on the floor while glitter whirls in a spiral into the sky—fireworks. They are sparkles that shatter into a thousand pieces, like the heart of Lilith suddenly explodes inside her ribcage to the dark clouds above her back. A sniff escapes her nose as she takes out her mobile phone from her pocket, scrolling down to the number of a certain "SSS" and typing them this message:

"Help, they're back!"

She just has enough strength left to press the button "send" before everything turns black right before her eyes.