Lucifer Damned (Morningstar Book 3) by Percival Constantine (books to read in your 20s female .TXT) 📗

to blame for this sad, sorry state of affairs? Can we really blame fallen angels for reverting to type? All angels know is subjugation. So of course, the angels that first landed here would be the same.

“My friends, we know who is truly responsible for the sad state of affairs. The one who first spoke of the ideals we now strive for. Who could have turned this desolate dimension into a utopia instead of allowing his lieutenants to twist it into a dystopia. Had he simply had the courage to act instead of bowing and scraping before the angels and hiding in his tower, we could live in paradise.

“But he was a coward. He remains a coward, having abandoned the throne so he could live among the humans.”

Lucifer feared where this was heading and he knew he had to find a way out of here. If the crowd knew that he was here, after how much Raum was firing them up, the result would probably not be very pretty.

But it was already too late. It wasn’t pure accident that he and Mara were attacked when they were and it wasn’t chance that he woke in a cave below where Raum was rallying his followers. Now it was clear that Raum had been behind both those actions, because he looked right at Lucifer and smiled.

“And now, my friends, we have him here. The Morningstar himself, the great betrayer who threw us to the tender mercies of his fascist followers.” Raum pointed in Lucifer’s direction. “Let’s give him a warm welcome.”

The demons turned to face the direction Raum pointed. And they saw Lucifer standing at the rear of the crowd, his back to the wall. A dam had broken and they rushed at him like a flood, screaming epithets.

Lucifer tried to run, but he didn’t even know where an exit could be found. The way he came just led back to the dark cave where he woke. He tried to follow along the wall to see if it led to another tunnel, but a hand grabbed the back of his cloak and pulled him into the crowd.

They piled on him, tearing at his clothes. Fists battered his face and body and claws rent his flesh. Lucifer attempted to fight back, trying to punch or kick his way through. But their numbers were so great that he wasn’t sure he would have been able to fight back even if he did have his powers.

It wasn’t long before Lucifer was thrown to the ground. He tried to crawl to freedom, but the demons continued their assault. They kicked and stomped on him. Pain shot through every one of his nerves. He didn’t even know which way he was going, all sense of equilibrium was gone.

A voice called out, dwarfing the screams of the mob. The taunts and jeers relented, as did the violence. It was only a brief respite of relief, for the pain still lingered. Lucifer tried to raise his body up, only to fall back on his face. The ground was slick with his blood, dirt and debris clinging to his skin.

He was rolled onto his back. Lucifer’s eyelids were heavy and he tried to force them open. His vision was blurry, but even when it came into focus, the image split into two only to merge and then split again. It was Raum looking down at him, grinning.

“Get him on his feet,” he said.

Lucifer was picked up by his arms, held out at either side. He didn’t have the strength in his legs to stand under his own power and just hung limply in the grip of the demons who propped him up. Raum stepped up to him and clasped his face with both hands.

“Welcome to the Badlands, Lucifer,” said Raum. “Welcome to the world you’ve created.”

Lucifer tried to speak, but his mouth just filled with blood. His lips parted and the blood dribbled down his chin. Raum stepped back and watched the blood drip onto the ground.

“Gotta say, it’s a real treat to see you in this state. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you like this at my mercy,” said Raum. “The Morningstar himself. Revered leader of the rebellion and champion of the oppressed.”

Raum punched Lucifer in his abdomen. Lucifer groaned.

“Wonder why they never added hypocritical coward to your list of titles,” said Raum. “You put me in an ice prison where I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could do nothing other than reflect on how much I hated you and your lies. Hiding in your tower as the Court continued to become just as tyrannical as the angels you rebelled against. Just like the Presence, you became an absent leader.”

If the number of blows Lucifer had received during the mob beating were multiplied by a thousandfold, they wouldn’t come close to landing as hard as that one accusation from Raum did. Lucifer rebelled because of the lie of the Presence. If there was no supreme power, then Lucifer believed they should live in freedom.

But Raum was right. Lucifer had become exactly what he fought against. He felt it’d be sufficient to leave the Hell Lords to run their territories as they saw fit. He never imagined they would turn into the very kind of tyrants they once stood against.

More than that, if he were being truly honest with himself, he would admit that he really didn’t care. Lucifer was more concerned with his own self-pity than the responsibilities of leadership. He’d failed in his mission and perhaps Raum was right to call him out like this.

“So pathetic,” said Raum. “The Lightbringer reduced to to such a sorry state. You won’t even fight back, will you?”

Raum punched him a few more times in the torso and then threw a final one at his face. Lucifer was nearly convinced that his head would break off his neck. He turned his gaze back to Raum and spat. Blood flew from his mouth and splattered on Raum’s face.

The demon wiped