Book I: The Search for Dagaal
Chapter 4: The Travesty
Now that you’re brought up to speed on why Zebub and Baal-Zebub were locked in Illusia, allow me to explain how they made my life even more miserable, whenever I was force to visit them for more hellfire lifeforce – which was the reason for my most recent journey…
First off, the physical tortures that Baal-Zebub and his father unleashed on godlings like myself who were subject to their will were unimaginably horrifying, but worse still were the memories the Evil Ones left seared within our minds. For Dark Lord broke our spirits by impaling our psyches upon the barbs of his venomous words, ever threatening to withhold Zebub’s <hellfire> from us unless we could convince him that we would succeed in manufacturing a release for them when next we strode upon Terra. And all the while Lucifer’s queen Lilith looked on in delight [perhaps I hadn’t thought that one through when I first gave her to Lucifer].
A century of such anguish oft times seemed more like an eternity to me, yet thankfully always would it end with The Evil One providing me an adequate supply of <hellfire>, so that I could once more return to The Middle Plane.
Why did Baal-Zebub keep giving me more <hellfire>?
That’s an interesting question – whether my lord really believed the hopeless promises I (or my counterparts) gave him or whether the Evil One simply grew tired of his own pointless games, I never knew. I tend to think Baal-Zebub tortured us because he could, but he also gave us the life force because he had no choice – we were his only hope at escape.
Regarding my visits, they were pretty much always the same – arriving at my master home, I entered his throne room and was immediately captivated with love for my lord, because invariably, my first glimpse of Baal-Zebub was a picture of such beauty that perhaps naught in any universe could compare to such a wondrous sight!
It should be noted that Baal-Zebub’s throne faced windows to the east so that whoever was in his court to see him could only view his right profile, his beautiful side. This was the side his queen sat on too. And what a divine sight Lucifer was – for the right side of Baal-Zebub’s body was a picture of perfection. He was an adonis, with lustrous brown hair flowing in locks around his shoulders, an enchanting male face with healthy pink skin and chiseled features, a youthful and muscular body obvious under his royal satin robes, and with his right hand bejeweled with sparkling rings which reflected the seeming sunlight that cascaded in through the palace windows. Yes, perfection and beauty all the way down to a milky white foot which was nestled in a soft, silkish slipper. From this aspect, Baal-Zebub literally oozed <Love> and <Acceptance> – and I worshiped him.
Now had this been the only view I ever saw of my lord, surely I would have treasured every visit to Illusia. Yet, such was not reality for Baal-Zebub’s godlings. Instead, as divine as my master’s right-hand side was, lo the nightmarish memories that were seared into my soul whenever he would turn to face me full-on and subject me to his dreaded defilement — for over the millennia, Baal-Zebub had become a Travesty!
My lord’s left side was the ultimate paradox — with a patchwork of clammy skin that fought to cling in limp folds onto a gigantic deformed skull; the skin often lost that battle and instead had fallen away — leaving only bone or decayed muscle to show through a horrific female face. Wet, oily strands of individual hairs hung in ones and twos from just a few remaining spots on her psoriatic scalp. Her left eye was just an empty socket that seemed to be the very gateway to infinite nothingness. Even Baal-Zebub’s clothes on that side could not hide her defilement, but instead her own vile deterioration ate outwards at them and not even my lord’s wondrous powers could keep them from eating away like the rest of her leftish self. As for my master’s other foot, it was not even there — instead that leg simply ended in a gnarled bone, cracked painfully off ages ago.
Maybe that was why The Evil One reclined back in this sole locale ever and anon. Waiting. Ever waiting…
Perhaps it was Baal-Zebub’s eternal waiting for life to arrive upon it world, that allowed it the ability to be acutely aware whenever another would enter its domain – I believe this was especially so with a soul hoarder such as myself – someone so full of life, life that a soul eater like my master could consume to lessen its own pain.
For, despite Illusia’s size, still I was never able to enter that world without my master immediately knowing the very moment I had arrived; without Baal-Zebub calling me the second I had taken that last step down the Stairway of Infinity; without the Dark Lord forcing me to instantly obey its summons, and then imprisoning me before its throne for 100 years! There, at its foot, groveling in hopeless agony, there did Evil transform tself into a monster while It enslaved Death (that’s me!) with the sinister malevolence of its rabid ravings.
Baal-Zebub then proceeded to force-feed my mind with such a multitude of malignant thoughts until such a point that the very fissures of my skull oozed with the black ichor of my master’s ancient evil being.
With no way to escape, all I could do was endure – hoping against hope I could survive…
Illusia – a realm of unspeakable horrors and twisted beauty, where the air itself seemed to whisper secrets of despair. The sky was an ever-shifting tapestry of colors, each hue representing a different layer of agony. The ground was littered with the remnants of the forsaken, the divine bones of the damned crunching underfoot.
Lucifer’s palace, an imposing structure of obsidian and shadow with spires piercing the heavens of the underworld like dark fangs. Within its walls, I had endured trials that would break the spirit of any lesser being. The constant presence of Lucifer, his gaze cold and calculating, a reminder of the power he held over me. His voice, a silken threat, echoing in the halls of my mind even now. And then there was his queen Lilith to deal with too – she was a nemesis I had unwittingly unleashed upon myself – but I’ll get to her later.
You have to understand something – as bad the physical torments were, they were nothing compared to the psychological games – the endless cycle of hope and despair – that’s what truly wore me down. Each time I returned to Illusia, I faced the same cycle: the anticipation of freedom, the brief respite of <hellfire> replenishment, and then the crushing realization that I was still a pawn in Lucifer’s grand scheme.
Yet it was my last visit that was the worst of all – for then it was that Baal-Zebub began to fill my mind with images of a mysterious blade of power – a weapon it named Dagaal — an impossibly twisted, fiendish little dagger, perhaps but a hand and a half in length. Its handle, hilt, and blade were all made from one long piece of bone.
And yet, although Dagaal was quite sinister looking, and would have made any mortal shudder to behold, still it shouldn’t have been something I feared – after all, why should Death have anything to fear?
Ah, if only that had been the case.
Yet there was something unusual about this dagger – something which triggered in me the memory of a time before even my own existence – something perhaps as ancient as Time itself.
During the century of my last captivity, Baal-Zebub forced me to behold Dagaal again and again and again – to the point where I knew it’s every atom by heart – as if it was a part of myself.
The dagger’s handle was straight and unadorned – without even a wrap for a grip — and where a base or pommel might have been, the bone looked as if it had been merely snapped off. The hilt was an extension of the blade bone that had grown outward at opposing angles to form an upside down “V,” with barbed tips that extended towards the tip of the dagger. But most gruesome of all was the actual blade — a illogically distorted corkscrew of bone that twisted its way in width, from the size of a fist, down through its coils, to an almost invisible tip — a point so sharp that its final apex was invisible to the naked eye, for so keen were its edges.
The time passed slowly on Illusia and the more Baal-Zebub and Lilith tortured me with Dagaal’s image, the more I found myself filled with countless questions about the blade’s making. Unfortunately there was never the opportunity for a dialogue with my master, thus I was unable to learn the how, when, and where of Dagaal’s crafting. Yet soon enough I realized why this weapon terrified me so: for Lilith happily proclaimed that the bone which Dagaal was made from had actually been taken from ME!
[Had you been able to see my skeletal anatomy you’d notice that I am missing a rib bone on my left side – in the course of the long history of my existence I’ve simply taken this deformity for granted – yet now I realized that Dagaal was my missing rib!]
How I rue the day I came to that realization – for Baal-Zebub and his queen rejoiced in my agony and used that fact to make my torture even more unbearable.
“Yes.” My master agreed, enjoying my pain. “It is the very bone that my father first used to create you with. And…it is the same one by which you shall one day be destroyed.”
Even as The Evil One said it, I knew it was true – and I was afraid.
Sure, my ‘existence’ on Terra was always time-bound by the supply of <hellfire> I had available to me and I guess, technically, had I ever allowed my <hellfire> to totally drain away, it’s possible I could have ceased to exist. But no deity has ever allowed this to happen and to be honest, it wasn’t really something I feared – that’s not to say I didn’t religiously return to my creator to get my <hellfire> replenished, but there was never really a sense of my imminent demise.
But such was not the case as I beheld Dagaal – for this weapon had but one purpose – to destroy ME! – and the thought of being confronted by one’s own mortality was not something a divinity should ever had to ponder.
Unfortunately I didn’t have a choice – for Baal-Zebub repeatedly forced me to behold the sight of my bane, searing the image into my mind, making it impossible for me to forget.
“Lest you ever believe you are beyond my grasp,” My master warned, “simply remember that Dagaal allows me to recall that which is mine. For with this simple weapon, any insignificant creature of Mittengarten can serve as my agent and have the power to slay a god.”
What could I say, I knew Baal-Zebub spoke the truth – because of Dagaal, Evil was always within reach of Death.
Naturally these ideas were quite terrifying to me, yet my fear was at least somewhat mitigated by knowing that because Baal-Zebub possessed the blade, Dagaal could not harm me unless it were to be used by my master’s own hand.
But then, just before my time on Illusia was up, Baal-Zebub suddenly stopped torturing me with the sight of Dagaal. However rather than give me a reprieve, his queen’s new tactic was even more sinister.
“The time has come for you to know,” Lilith said slyly, “Dagaal is no longer safely locked away in Lucifer’s armory. Instead we’ve let one of the baals take it to Terra. The bone dagger is now there… waiting for you. <Ha, ha, ha!>”
And with that, my lord and his queen expelled me from their presence and forced the baals to drive me pell-mell to The Stairway of Infinity – casting me out of Illusia once again.
It was a helter-skelter journey for me up The Stairway, made all the more terrifying by the fact that I was returning to a world upon which there was an object which could destroy me – a prospect I’d never confronted before.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t confused as to which way to go, but once on The Stairway, I knew I had to keep climbing – fast!
Eventually, as you know, I made it up The Stairway and re-emerged onto The Middle Plane. Yet I barely had time to celebrate my escape before the nightmare of Dagaal had incapacitated me.
“The Bone Dagger — upon Terra!” I screamed as I awoke from that bad dream. And exhausted from the visions, I barely managed a pitiful swipe at the empty air, before once more falling into unconsciousness.
Yet this time — thankfully — it was a sleep without any dreams…
The Apocrypha of Azazel 