The young Antichrist, Marcus Drago, paced his room. The school year was only two days into a hellishly long summer vacation, and he was already bored stiff. The next few months threatened to be a nightmare for the angels and demons, who more or less had to watch over him. That alone was usually a hopeless task, as the little guy had the energy of ten and a brain that seemed to be preoccupied with only one thing: making mischief. But a bored Antichrist promised an epidemic of headaches and, thus, a drain on Raphael's supply of painkillers. Heavens, head healer, always a good planner, had already stocked up just in case because he had an inkling of what was coming.
Laia, the Archangel of Science, knew how much her little cousin and favorite rascal loved books and reading. She made her rounds in the vast Hall of Wisdom. The place in Heaven that looked like the Notre Dame in Paris, but housed a pocket dimension where all the knowledge of humans, angels, and demons was stored. She was looking for a book that would keep the restless Antichrist occupied and out of trouble for at least a few hours. Suddenly, a history book caught her eye.
You should know that Heaven and Hell are not at war. Okay, sometimes the Angels and the Demons aren't the best of friends, but that's because their jobs are opposite. Angels are supposed to help and protect. The Demons have to punish. Generally, both groups get along well and are often found in each other's company. Mostly on the fast training fields and dojos where the Angels hone their fighting skills. But in a lot of cases, they could also be found in one of the many waterholes Hell was rich in, where they served more than just water. Many an Angel had woken up the next day in the middle of a training field with a boulder of a headache, wondering how the heck they got there. Thus, the task of watching over the young Antichrist's welfare during the long summer vacation was neatly divided between them, and sometimes even done together. Something that always seemed to put Marcus in a particularly good mood when he saw a duo, consisting of a Demon and Angel appear that he would spend the day with. For him, it was a guarantee of fun. Either he sided with the Demon and went for the more hellish pursuits, but there was never any real evil or untoward behavior involved. One of his favorite pranks that he had learned from a general of his father, Lucifer, his uncle Bearus, was gluing coins to the ground and then observing the consequences from a distance. Or he sided with the Angel and annoyed the Demon for the rest of the day by going for the more pious works, like church visits or going to help out at charities like food kitchens. Whatever he chose, fun was guaranteed for him, because one of the two was definitely not in his element. Marcus is especially loved by both groups. His light, warmth, and energy are infectious. Because of this, there were sometimes almost literal fights over who would babysit him, because that is what they all wanted and always wanted to do. The Antichrist also did not come into existence to destroy humanity. He came into life because his father, the Devil, had fallen head over heels with a beautiful woman, and she for the dashing, sometimes a bit of a snob and a bit eccentric Devil. They got married on a whim, and less than a year later they held a little Antichrist in their arms. Marcus's grandparents did not differ from human grandparents. They adored their grandson and tried to spoil him rotten and would succeed if it were not for his mom, Angelina, who firmly put her foot down. He was called the Antichrist simply because he is the son of Lucifer, just as Christ is the son of God.
That and the stories made up by people about the Antichrist over and over again annoyed his dad and grandpa immensely. At one point, after a rather inspired lecture by a fairly orthodox cardinal in the Vatican about the Antichrist, Grandma had had to do her utmost to stop an almost foaming God from razing the Vatican to the ground after what that cardinal had dared to say about his grandson. What she hadn't stopped was his decree that this cardinal would be entrusted to the care of Bearus after his earthly existence. That general, who was quite fond of his nephew, would like to exchange a few cordial words with that narrow-minded cardinal. This was one of the many things that humanity just doesn't seem to understand about Heaven and Hell, God and the Devil. There is no Devil, no Satan. Only Lucifer, and that about being the Devil is just his job, not who and what he is. If Jesus is the thesis, then Marcus is the antithesis. People just don't seem to understand that thesis and antithesis can perfectly pursue the same goal. In this case, a better, more peaceful, more valuable way of life for man. Marcus's task, however, was more difficult than his uncle's 2000 years earlier. Mankind was on the verge of self-extinction, and a way had to be found to prevent it. But that was a problem for later. Now everyone let him enjoy his childhood to the fullest. Especially Christ, who had taken him under his wing, so to speak. Jesus was particularly fond of his nephew and was usually the instigator when he came up with a more complicated plan for mischief. The Christ took a demonic, pardon the pun, pleasure in giving both his father and his favorite brother, Lucifer, a solid headache via Marcus.
Laia took the book from the shelf and looked at it intently. On the one hand, it would fit the Antichrist's sense of humor perfectly. It was a book about the dictators of history, written by a demon. The book told of the sometimes bizarre phobias some dictators had. Torturing the depraved souls of history's dictators in their cells had given the Demon a unique insight into their sometimes ridiculous phobias, and he had written a fun book about it. A book that had not only become a bestseller among the other Demons but also charmed quite a few Angels. After making sure that Marcus would not cause too many headaches with this book, she sent it to him.
Marcus slumped back in his chair at his small desk in his bedroom and groaned. He was sure that he would die of boredom somewhere in the next few hours, now that most of his school friends had left the small town where he and his mother lived. His father, Lucifer, lived there as well, but he was only home on weekends. Think of him as a traveling salesman, except he spends his weekdays in Hell as its King. When a book suddenly appeared on his desk, he got a warm smile. One of his favorite aunts had obviously thought of him. He picked up the book, read the title and the preface, and concluded that this could be very interesting. How interesting he could not know beforehand. He had retired to his bed. His mother had come to check on him out of curiosity about an hour earlier. A silent Antichrist usually didn't mean much good. When she saw him absorbed in a book, she took a deep breath of relief. It was a well-known fact that the boy could be peaceful and quiet for hours if he had his nose in a book. Had she known he was just reading the chapter on Hitler, she probably would have stayed. What did it turn out to be? Hitler had a huge phobia of cats, and wherever he went, his arrival was preceded by an SS unit. House cats had to stay inside and were luckier than feral cats, which often did not survive the SS visit.
Marcus closed the book and threw it on the bed. He jumped into his sneakers and practically flew down the stairs. He had already manifested his wings, but he remembered his mother's words: "No wings in the house."
His mother barely saw a streak of blood red, the color of his wings, as he ran into the yard and almost yelled:
"I'm going to see Dad!"
She sighed deeply and muttered:
"What's that kid up to now?"
He was less than a step out into the garden when he vanished from Earth and appeared before Lucifer's throne in the throne room of the palace in Hell. The King of Hell saw his son almost trembling on his short legs and sighed. He asked wearily:
"What do you need, Marcus?"
"Uncle Bearus, I need Uncle Bearus' Dad!"
The Antichrist said enthusiastically. What the Devil had feared when he saw his son appear in the throne room, with every feather in his wings trembling with excitement, came true. He felt the beginnings of a headache and hoped it would not get too bad. He didn't feel like arguing with Marcus or asking questions because that would only make his headache worse, and he knew damn well that he wouldn't be able to say no when the little antichrist brought out his puppy dog eyes anyway. With a defeated sigh, he looked at his general and just made a hand gesture to signal him to help Marcus with whatever crazy plan he might have come up with this time. It seemed as if a thousand stars appeared in the eyes of the tough, leather-clad general, who seemed to be built like a linebacker in his prime. The Antichrist grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the throne room, and the general followed with a big smile. Behind him, he heard his fellow general, Belios, giggle and the king groan.
The general asked:
"Where are we going, Marcus?"
The latter answered briefly with fireworks in his eyes:
"The ninth circle!"
The general suddenly stopped. The ninth and final circle was no place for children, even if they were the Antichrist. For a moment he was in doubt. This circle was not only the home of the most despicable souls mankind had ever conceived. It was also the home and workplace of the most violent and dangerous demons in Hell. On the other hand, he couldn't wait to see what the little rascal was up to. He summoned Makaria, a powerful female demon and head of the king's personal bodyguard. When she appeared before them, a small smile appeared on her face. Makaria never smiled, but seeing Marcus always brought a trace of a smile to her face. She asked:
"How can I be of service, General?"
Bearus replied, emphasizing his words so that they would not be misunderstood:
"The Prince wishes to go to the Ninth Circle. I want a double phalanx around him at all times, and the first of your people not to pay attention will pay the price."
Makaria growled:
"The first one who does not watch over the little prince and guarantee his safety will not be around long enough to realize that he screwed up!"
In no time, Marcus was surrounded by twelve fearsome-looking demons who took his safety very seriously even without the extra threat of their commander. Arriving at the ninth circle, Bearus asked:
"And now?"
The Antichrist was so excited that when he spoke, his words seemed to be glued together:
"I want you to manifest a new cell. But not just any cell. It must resemble a medieval dungeon, dark, damp, and moldy, lit only by the occasional torch here and there. Most importantly, the cell must be an endless maze!"
Bearus's eyes widened because he didn't understand what the prince wanted with such a cell, but he did as he was told. A few minutes later, the cell was a reality. Marcus pointed at Makaria and said:
"Would you please get Hitler out of his cell for me?"
Now there were two of them looking at him, not understanding what the kid was up to, but the demon did as she was told and made her way to drag Hitler's soul out of the cell. Marcus entered the cell and went to work; this last bit he could do himself. What he manifested was actually nothing more than a tangible hologram, but to someone who didn't know that, it looked damn real. He manifested hundreds of cats, large and small. From an ordinary house cat to a tiger, and he made sure that they all wore collars with the Star of David very visible on them. The mark that Jews were forced to wear by the Nazis during the Second World War. He made sure the cats were spread out in the endless maze. Then he left the cell to wait for Hitler's soul. A minute later, Makaria appeared and pulled the dictator by the neck. For a moment, the playfulness in Marcus's eyes disappeared and gave way to the fire of hell. He spoke to Hitler:
"From today you have a new hell; have fun with your cellmates..."
He kicked the dictator hard against the ribs, and this one flew with his phobia of cats into the new cell, after which he slammed it shut for all eternity. When Makaria and Bearus asked what this was all about, Marcus told them the story with a big smile on his face. When he finished, the two demons were lying on each other's shoulders, yowling and roaring...
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