“Imp Rabdos, come forward,” Satan’s voice bellowed from within the oily black cloud upon the dais.
The small, naked creature pushed his way through the gathering of his peers and strode purposefully forward. He carried his one-foot frame proudly with his shoulders back and chin out. He’d worked hard to get noticed, and this promotion was long overdue by his estimations. He snapped one of his rivals in the back of the shins with his tail barb just as he cleared the pack. The quiet yelp pleased him as all eyes in Hell turned to gaze upon his exquisitely brown skin and smoothly cut muscles underneath.
“Rabdos the Strangler, I have been watching your work for some time now, young imp. I like what you did with that Zodiac thing and on that hillside. You have a penchant for death, which I believe the Pale Rider also has noted. I know he has plans for you, but unfortunately for him I am going to take you from him and assign you to the White Rider, for now.” Two glowing points the size of small dogs grew in the dark smoke. The sulfurous fumes billowed around the lit points giving hint to a massive, demonic head back in the shadows. An axe of black steel, sitting atop a four foot shaft of ebony wood with a hammer head opposite the blade, came spinning out of the cloud to clatter down the dais steps coming to rest just before Rabdos. Deep red electricity crackled across the blade. “Pick it up.”
Rabdos didn’t hesitate, despite the weapon being nearly twice his size. He bent and grasped the haft with both hands preparing to heave with all his might. However, as soon as his hands closed around the wooden shaft dark red electricity arced out of the axe head and began to dance over the little imp’s body.
Excruciating pain wracked every nerve ending Rabdos had. He screamed and tried to release the jet black weapon, but found his hands held fast as he felt the flesh of his palms begin to burn and singe. Rabdos felt white-hot spears of pain stabbing his skull from the inside, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse his left eye popped from its socket as the bones of his skull began to split backward from that now vacant cavity. He screamed a primal scream and arched involuntarily so hard he lifted the axe off the ground and held it above his head, fully erect. Every muscle in his body tensed, locking his joints in that position while first one bone, then two, then four, and finally all seemed to begin to splinter and expand. The now charred flesh of his once smooth and glistening outer epidermis began to slough off his musculature, exposing the tender nerves and flesh to the acrid smoky air of Hell. And still the dark electricity danced over the wet, tender flesh.
Hell had seen this before. Those who had not yet undergone the transformation looked on with envious eyes jealous of the promotion and success. Those who held greater rank cringed, recalling in vivid detail their own painful transformation as if it had just occurred. All Rabdos could see were the cold points of light watching him from within the cloud of smoke, and he thought he could make out a smile in the back of the smoke flirting with the idea of becoming fully visible. Still Rabdos danced.
The shattered and expanding bones began to stretch the muscles to their breaking points as they expanded. Rabdos jerked involuntarily as those rigid muscles tensed and stretched. He stood just under three feet tall now. The dancing electricity began to prickle the muscles prodding them to expand and the surface cells to thicken, turning a stony grey color. The gaps filled in quickly like the batter of a cake expanding as it cooks. The red electricity began to crackle less frequently, focusing on those areas of Rabdos’ flesh that had not yet expanded enough or thickened, forming the stone-like outer skin. Each time the electricity crackled Rabdos jerked and the weight of the axe over his head threatened to topple to one side or the other, but he never let it fall. He began to focus his will not on ignoring the pain, but on keeping the axe aloft. Each crackle of pain jerked him in one direction sending the axe nearly falling but he staggered under it to keep it up each time. Finally, he stood looking above him at the axe and the only sound that echoed off the cavern walls of Hell were his screams of torture. Rabdos lowered his gaze to see the four horsemen of the apocalypse standing on the dais, the white and red riders to the right of the sulfurous cloud that housed Satan and the black and pale riders to the left.
“I will claim this one,” the Red Rider said stepping to the edge of the dais. A murmur ran through the ranks of Hell.
“My my, have we seen a vision?” questioned Satan in a playful tone. The Red Rider said nothing but locked his gaze on the newly formed demon.
“He will be there at the end, master,” The Red Rider responded.
“Well, we have a celebrity with us today. Rabdos the strangler, you are an imp no more. You serve the Red Rider and I gift you with a cadre of demons to do your bidding. Heed your new master well,” Satan said. A gaggle of three imps and a writhing mass of oversized maggot-looking insects appeared to be grappled by an unseen force lifting them off their feet and flinging them to the ground behind Rabdos. “They will follow your biding and you have total power over their fate from this moment forward.”
Rabdos’ axe head crackled with red electricity and arced to all the creatures simultaneously. Each of the creatures crumpled to the ground behind Rabdos and bowed their heads as though an invisible hand shoved their faces to the floor. From the area where the group of hellspawn had come a shrill scream of anger broke through the echo of Satan’s pronouncement.
“Not fair. Not fair!” the voice screamed as a little demon who looked very much like Rabdos shoved his way forward.
“What care I for fair?” Satan asked and an arc of red lightning shrouded in black smoke shot out of Satan’s cloud striking the demon and exploding him instantly. “Where was I? Oh, yes, they shall obey you from this day forward just as you will obey your rider and he obeys me.”
The Red Rider bowed as his name was mentioned but he never took his eyes off Rabdos. The cloud that housed Satan began to recede and dissipate indicating the official aspects of the ceremony were over. The riders began to withdraw from the dais as well without a word.
Guardians of the Herald is a weekly serial published and copyright by The Cavalier, Mark Malcolm. For more information about this story please join us on our Facebook page community at www.facebook.com/firstchevalierbooks.
