The Seed || A Madam Spellman Story

The Baptism

"Then the fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering and the wood and the stones and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench."

1 Kings 18:38

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Zelda did not expect to find Hell littered with the bodies of dead demons.

The acidic scent of their blood permeated under her skin. The battle seemed recent, the rocks were slippery with the evidence of the wounded, and Lilith's river bubbled with the breadth of her anger. Whatever had occurred here had been devastating, to say the least.

The rock formations that had remained intact acted as a suitable cover, and Zelda decided to stick as close to them as possible. Based on where she was she figured that if she followed the river about twenty minutes up, she would meet the woods before the road to Pandemonium. How long it took to get to the palace after that... she wasn't so sure?

A pair of footsteps under her startled her. Luckily, she was perched high up, the valley of the river below her. The footsteps belonged to a greater demon, one who would've towered over Zelda had they been on the same level. Based on the regalia, the assuredness of his stance, and the way he observed the battlefield, Zelda concluded that this demon was Belgaphor: the sixth prince of Hell.

The battle here hadn't quite ended.

She tested the flames in her hands. They were weak, flickering erratically, and out of control. Zelda tried to concentrate harder, tried to feel the source of her power at her core, but everything felt empty. She couldn't defeat him without her heavenly fire... as Lilith had said before: he was the most dangerous of them all.

"Is that a witch I smell?" Belgaphor's voice graveled against his throat. Zelda tried the fire again and nothing happened, just feeble sparks. The universe was a huge jerk, but they gave Zelda a job. They wouldn't take away the only way to complete it, it wasn't her time to die.

"Come out and play, little godmaker. It's about time we acquainted ourselves."

Zelda stepped out from behind the rock she had used to obscure herself. Belgaphor was huge and ugly, and confidence was lost on the witch at the sight of him. She wished she could go back to the time where Constance, Avnas, and herself had almost been killed in Caliban's gaudy palace; she was sure that the eccentric prince would've at least made her death entertaining.

"Belgaphor." She simply stated.

"So, you recognize me?"

"Well, I've met Lucifer, and I murdered every other prince of Hell, so you can imagine how easy it was to guess from my limited options."

"I can see why she's taken such a liking to you, little witch. You share the same unbearable attitude." Belgaphor unsheathed his sword from his back and twirled it menacingly. He must've known she was coming, there was no other way he could've found her so fast.

"I didn't come here to chat, I came here to end this. You got lucky with my brothers, but you won't get the same with me." A Hellhound came out of nowhere, signaled by some invisible force. Zelda had a feeling that if it stood on its hind legs it would be taller than her, she tried to push away that thought. The beast settled comfortably against Belgaphor's side and sneered its ugly face in her direction.

"If we were inviting our pets, you should've told me, I could've brought Vinegar Tom." Her sarcasm didn't go over well with Belgaphor, not that she thought it would, but the rock that flew over her head was a proper indication of his irritation.