Chapter Twenty Three: Azazel

It only felt good for a moment. Immediately after the rush of flushing Sachiel like a giant turd down a toilet, I felt sorry for myself. It was like killing Wendy for the first time. It feels really really good, and then it feels really really bad. I wanted someone to talk to. As usual, I wanted God to talk to-- but as Sachiel pointed out selfishly, she wasn't speaking to me-- and she certainly wasn't speaking about me, either.

I didn't want to talk to my brothers. I had my issues with them, too. Such as—Meresin experiencing a kiss with a mortal? Raum was a bird and doing randomly good deeds, but wasn't much of a talker. Neither was Raziel. I hate Samael (who doesn't.) I was and always angry and secretly jealous of Adremelech. There were almost two hundred brothers, however many of them coalesced or otherwise couldn't or wouldn't be contacted. Not by me, anyway. They will speak to each other, just not to me.

These cliques of fallen angels wall off all forms of communication-- mirroring the way I separated (or fell) from God. They have 'fallen' from me. The reason being, I was told, is that they did not want to be consumed by me and therefore lose their autonomy. This leaves my social circle very, very small.

While this makes sense, I don't care and it hurts my feelings. Also, it makes me feel so alone in the universe. This is probably why my relationship Meresin chafes me so much. While pondering what to do, I decided to check my 'Lucifer' section of my personality, or soul, what-have-you.

I have, in truth, consumed a lot (most) of my brothers upon the realization that Adremelech had a plan of infinite growth. When I first 'fell' from the Creator, my consciousness immediately broke into my two-hundred or so siblings. They were sections of my personality, my entity, my soul. In a way, I was their creator, through the arrangement and nuance of their personality was not of my doing. They arranged themselves beautifully with geometry. Each angel was a snowflake in vibration, color, energy, and motivation. We often paralleled ourselves. Where I was light, brother Meresin was shadow. Where Adremelech was greedy, his twin was temperance. We were made to each be as and unique different as possible.

We were celestial beings, represented by the planets. Adremelech became as wide and grand as Jupiter. I was represented by the bright, beautiful Venus. Little Meresin was represented in the mercurial Mercury. When we separated from being one Devil-- we developed a language in the stars. The stars were representations of every angel including the fallen ones. There we were, watching in the cold blackness of the universe, both in and out of time.

Then, humans gave us different names. Experience and time altered our identities, too. We grew just as people did. Then, along came 'Lucifer'. When modern interpretations formed a tulpa of the Devil, I immediately jumped on it like an old lady at a garage sale. Mostly, people prayed to "Lucifer," the so-called Devil. The humans complaining for money were routed to Adramelech's machine, but I took over humans asking for love, fame, talent, ect.

"Lucifer" simply means light-bearer, the Morning star, or Venus. I was destined to be called 'Lucifer' sometimes, even though it was more of a description than my given name, because I am mostly represented by planets Venus and Saturn. We all have three planets representing each of us, just as humans have three sides to their souls. It was the cosmic mathematics that weave everything together.

But, I don't want to go into too many details because I don't like being summoned by humans who think they know they occult. That's why I direct all of my prayers (aka 'phone-calls') through the 'Lucifer' persona, a sectioned off area of my eternal being to take all of the crap that humans like to come to the Devil for.

"Hello, yes, this is the Devil. Yes, Lucifer Morningstar. Hi! Good morning, Gale!! Thanks for reaching out to the Devil. I'm here for you, 24/7, and I love you," said my answering service. "God hates you... but I don't!" my answering machine said. "It's totally cool if you kill your husband and offer up that energy to me! Go for it, Gale!"

By doing something so drastic and full of negative emotion, Gale would open a tear in the Veil if she were to kill her husband. Doing it for me, in my name, gives me strength and power. She prayed to me in her dreams, and I gave her direct answers that would benefit me as an entity. It is 'bad,' but this is what I do. I do it subconsciously, mostly, with my Lucifer-Scape-Goat answering service. It is how I feed.

"Hello, yes, welcome to the Devil. You have reached Lucifer Morningstar," said another representative in my answering service call center that is me. "I hate you and I hope you die. How can I help?"

"Uh, hi? Am... am I really talking to... to the Devil?"

"Yes," said my answering service in a low, stupid voice.

"Oh good, because, I could really use some advice," said the mortal.

I don't usually go strolling around the Lucifer answering service call center portion of my eternal being, but I was feeling particularly bad. I decided that maybe listening to the prayers, cries, and needs of humans would make me feel a little less crappy. It is nice to feel needed, especially when God hates you in particular. Maybe listening to them cry to me at the lowest points in their pathetic lives would help me gain some perspective.

"Well, you can literally say anything to me, I'm the Devil," said my answering representative.

Most mortals are just looking for love or money. Since I don't bother with anything money related, I just flip through the love requests. Romantic love. Friendship love. Artistic appreciation. Validation. Admiration or attention of any kind. I have met and gotten to know a handful of human individual souls. I truly despise humanity, and yet I always find myself drawn to them time and time again. Even though humans are my downfall, I keep going back again and again. It is an abusive cycle. It is chock full of irony.

I keep thinking if I get to know them then I won't hate them as much. I often wonder if I will feel less lonely if I reach out to one. Like my brother Meresin, I have a few of my own 'pet humans.' It is true that I have tried manipulating them in order to have a flesh body to incarnate into. But, it never works out. Never. There is always a human soul assigned to every body, and even if that human soul isn't totally solid in their own identity or personality, it is still almost impossible to push out.

"No, this isn't a demon. I'm an angel," said one of my representatives, lazily. He filed his nails as he answered prayer requests. I make my representatives lie all the time, sometimes just for fun. "Yes, one of the 'good' ones," the representative went on boredly.

"Oh! John? John! How are you!?" my agent asked with sugary cheer. I wasn't fully paying attention to the conversation until I was. I recognized this soul. I knew why my answering agent seemed to be in a good mood. This was a human that I actually liked.

My 'Lucifer' system resembles a call center. It is organized into individuals that answer any twinge of any plea from a human to the 'Devil,' even if it is rudimentary communication. Then, the goal is to have the human pay my consciousness a 'tithe' from which I feed upon. It is like selling them a product they don't need. That energy is used to fuel my entire consciousness, personality, and identity. The 'call center' itself is basic and boring. I often add details when the center of my consciousness is paying a visit, not unlike a CEO dropping in on his employees.

John the Baker, then Johanna Baker, then Jon Baker. No matter what lifetime he was in, he always had the same basic design to his identity. The Lord created him to be the 'universal guy' soul. Because he was so generic, so boring, so human, I choose this soul to be one of my 'friends' for all space and time. If I wanted a 'normal human opinion' on something, I sought out John Baker.

I try to be organized. However, being the 'angel' of time and death, it is really super hard to be organized. Everything is happening all at once. I am not good at maps, either. Thus, when I attempt to contact John Baker on his timeline, I often don't know where he is. I can't always find him when I want him. It is so hard to keep track of mortal friends. They could be anywhere in their incarnation on any of their timelines. I was surprised that I recognized John Baker or that he showed up when I was visiting the Lucifer call-center.

"Ah, sorry to hear that, John. Sorry to hear you don't have your own body, currently, and are experiencing terrible, terribly maladies as a 60 year old lady in Singapore," said my Lucifer-answering representative as he put his feet up on his cubicle desk. Usually, humans were assigned their own bodies. But, sometimes the human spirit wants a break or wants to sit-in on someone else's experience. That's another reason it made it difficult to track down John the Baker sometimes. He was usually someone else. I could tell my representative was enjoying his misery. The agent was answering John with malicious glee.

"But why some lady in Singapore? Why not... do the celebrity circuit? Sit in with Marilyn Monroe, like everyone else. Be Abraham Lincoln, or Mao Zedong? Everyone has been Cleopatra at least once or twice, for fuck's sake, John."

There was a pause. I sat on the corner of my agent's desk and watched. I couldn't hear what John was saying, but if I exerted some effort, I could key in on the tone of what was being said.

"Yeah? Ok, well, I think my boss wants to talk to you," the agent said, offering the phone receiver to me. Since the agent was just a copied representation of myself, I certainly didn't mind taking the call from me. I was the boss, after-all. I wanted to key in a little closer to what John was saying. I wanted to be closer to his soul and have someone else's perspective. I wanted someone to be my friend for a minute.

"Heard you are a 60 year-old lady right now, John," I teased as I took the phone and cradled it against my neck.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to add to my identity and experience something different. I have to say, it is awfully miserable. I've been a woman before, it isn't that. It is just... I am not sure how to add this particular human lifetime into my personality. I don't feel I really learned from it. It is just pain."

"Life is pain, John. You will learn that from being human," I answered blandly.

"I've been human like... over 6 thousand times. You'd think I'd learn something new each time around. I'm not even the main human in the body, I'm just a passenger. I wanted to take it easy this time and just sort of shadow the experience."

"You did learn something, though! You learned that you don't always learn!" I rolled my eyes and cackled. I pushed my agent's feet off the desk-- so I had room to add my own. "So, maybe that's your failing and not the particular body's fault."

"Uh, yeah, I mean, possibly. I guess that's why I reached out to you, as the Devil. I've been talking to God on and off and... yeah. There's no answers. It's just... add this life to your totality of your experiences. I just don't get it, I just don't get it," John said, dismayed. "The reason I was a passenger for this life was because I felt the emptiness of the last life, too. Where... it didn't add to my experiences, it was all just a life of pain. No lesson, no deeper meaning, just pain. So, I thought I'd try it again, so I jumped in but this time not in the main seat. I'm disappointed to say that this time was similar. No lesson, just watching myself and the other soul in the body experience sadness and pain."

"Maybe God is just a sadist," I said with a grin, rolling my eyes and twirling the phone cord around my finger.

"No, I don't think that's it," said John. I didn't expect that response.

"Then what is it, John?" I asked, shoving the other representative out of the chair so I had somewhere to sit down. I put my elbows up on the gray, plastic, cubical desk. "It sounds like you have had some kind of breakthrough, some kind of epiphany. We are all here trying to figure out the Great Plan, including me. So, let's hear it."

"I haven't got it figured out," my human friend said. "but somehow, you play a big part, I'm sure of it."

"Well, as the Devil I should hope so," I scoffed, examining my nails.

"I think you haven't got any friends," said John the human.

"Of course not. Once again, I'm the Devil. And I do hate you," I added, just to be sure. "I sort of hate all humans. Mostly because they take their position for granted. But I guess I hate you, in particular, a little less. For no good reason, really."

"Well, that's awfully generous of you if I do say so," said John.

"I knew you'd say that," I said boredly. I wasn't kidding. He was so predictable. I briefly wondered what his human body was doing, and then I immediately realized I didn't care. His body was most likely sleeping-- since we had a good connection. But, it could have just have easily been eating or pooping, as what most bodies are usually doing. The human body of a human was wholly uninteresting to me. It was their souls I enjoyed most-- and only sometimes with some of them. Most humans I thought were just stupid monkeys made of water. Or upright swine. Over educated avocados. I had a thousand names for them. "Let me ask you something, John," I said as I thought of something.

"Well, shoot-- if the Devil asks you something, you damn well better answer!" chortled John in a folksy way that I hated. I wasn't always a threat and I loathed to constantly being seen that way.

"Say you have a brother who is usually seen as a nerd. He is usually uptight and stays in his room all day. Never had a girlfriend- that kind of type. Then, you saw him secretly... making out with a girl that you know is bad for him. Because they can't date or something. In fact, it is forbidden. It is forbidden for your brother to date this girl..."

"I can't say I fully understand your question. And I certainly cannot fathom how it relates to you, or..." John trailed off, confused. "Is this gossip? Or someone you know?"

I waved a hand dismissively, even though he couldn't see it.

"What are we doing, John? Hm? Are we friends? I'd say we aren't, because we can't, because we don't live in the same plane or dimension. You can't understand me and I you, you know?" I said as I leaned back in my squishy black office chair. I looked at my nails and decided they should be pink, as is tradition in an office setting. Or maybe red? "what I am saying is... I don't know. Yeah. Maybe I need friends. I need friends that aren't... you, John. Or any human. And God won't talk to me, you know? And my brothers are worse. They are worse than me, John, if you can imagine? Like the one I was talking about invents literal plagues. Plagues, John! I mean, gross!!! Can you imagine the plague guy walking around with a girlfriend? Because what I saw was HIM making out with this girl. What does that mean?? Ugh. Maybe I should call one of the good guys for whenever I need a real conversation, because talking to you is like talking to a sentient banana. You know you share 60% DNA with a banana? I mean, that's not really true but since this is a dream and most people believe the 60% thing, it doesn't really matter anyway and you're still a stupid fruit."

"Yeah, about that...." John sighed. "every time I am in a bad point in my life and I talk to you, the Devil, you always make things worse. You always say something clever and insulting. Every once in a while you say something insightful or give me a good idea... but usually... it's this. I wake up feeling afraid and bad. Bad about myself or life in general. I don't get that much help from you. And I turn to you because... it seems like God can't hear me, or... I don't know, I can't hear him? It must be like that sometimes. What I do know is... I get more confused after interacting with you. I guess what I want to know is... what does it all mean and how does it all work? Who are you, anyway, in relation to me?"

"Confused? You get confused, John? I'm the bloody Devil, as the queen would say. I don't care that you're confused. It isn't my job to teach you. In fact, it is your job to teach you. That's why you're here, that's what it is all about, right? What about me, John? What about my problems? Have you ever thought about those? Escorting you stupid, thoughtless, ungrateful peons to-and-fro across your timelines as you get to experience all of physical reality. And here I am, managing time, all of Hell, and about a million billion other things and planes of existence. You know if it all falls apart that it is somehow my fault?! Like, everything, literally everything, is somehow all my fault. Thank God for this call-center that manages the endless requests you idiots make to "Lucifer," whoever the hell that is. They call me crazy, you know? Both the guys upstairs and all my so-called equals down here. They all think I'm insane, all of the universe does. Well, of course I am, John! Of course I'm insane, John the goddamn Baker! I am insane because this is insanely unfair, all of it is!!! It is unfair that you get to see me as the shoulder to cry on while God 'sometimes won't talk to you' Well, how about he never talks to you, how about that?? Because she never talks to me anymore. Never. Because that's what Hell is, John. You don't know Hell. You only sometimes know Hell. I know it all the time."

Then, I heard a *click!

The idiot hung up on me! Me! John had the nerve to hang up on me. I wanted to call him back. I wanted to go down there, to Singapore, or wherever the hell he was right now in whatever incarnation, and give him a piece of my mind! How dare he! Did he know who he was messing with? Did he grasp the vastness of his mistake? I could ruin him. I am literally death.

Just as I thought of about a million ways to ruin his life(s) and get back at him, I stopped. One of my call-center agents trotted up to me to hand me a message. It was from John, or rather, John's subconsciousness. Since human souls are made up of three parts, sometimes one part will act on another's behalf. John hung up on me and according to the message, it was on purpose. He didn't want to talk to me anymore. He realized that we weren't really friends, and that I was simply hindering him. It wasn't my fault, according to the message. He used to think it was my fault, but then realized it was not. It was his fault. I was acting as I was created to act. I was just there to challenge him, by God's design, to make him a better human. Thanks to me, he achieved this. But, it was time for him to grow up, and he won't be needing me anymore. We were broken up. Our friendship was done.

Like a used toy, my so-called one human friend cast me aside. I dropped the message and sunk back in my office chair in ruins. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream at him. Scream at God. Of course, by design! Everything was design! God's perfect "plan!" I was here to help these monkeys learn, like a stepping stone, only to be cast aside and smote like the evil villain in the story when I served my purpose.

I about had my fill of humans for the day. I rose from the office chair to allow my 'Lucifer' representative his workspace again. He was a copy that looked almost identical to me, but he lacked any sophistication. The agent returned to answering calls about love and other stupid mortal concerns. I couldn't stand another minute in there, so I decided to return to my garden.

Tired, drained, and heartbroken, there was no better place in the universe than my replica of the Garden of Eden. It was the only place I could call home. It was my 'safe space,' my 'room.' I don't like to think of myself as a nostalgic personality, but I guess you could say that I am. Every moment in time isn't like the next, so I find it important to try to remember each day at a time. Nothing was as perfect as it was on the first day.

All I could think of was how everything I touch breaks into new possibilities. I literally shatter everything I touch. I broke into my other brothers, now spread across all of reality. It pains me because all I crave is to be together again. Even though being apart brings everything life, all I yearn for is bringing it back into one piece.

My thoughts were brought around once again to my twin. Like an ouroboros, everything always comes full circle. Whenever I am feeling particularly hurt, particularly vulnerable, I will think of Meresin. Where I am the shining light, he was always my shadow. Where I am pride, he was despair. He is the Castor to my Pollux. I don't like being sad, so I always search for a distraction.

I meandered through the brambled, overgrown bushes of the Garden. I normally maintain it fairly well, but these past few years have gotten away from me. The Garden is vast with thousands of miles of exotic trees, flowers, and animals. Yet, ever since the modern world became so complex and I became unable to hold the throne of Hell as well as maintain my sanity, the Garden has started to reflect the chaos of my mind.

I could hardly find a place to sit down. I was surprised at how cold, dead, and colorless my Garden had become. I was so overwhelmed, suddenly, by my garden, my the loss of my friend, and the loneliness that I cried out. I felt the walls of my own home closing in on me. Where they were once familiar, they seemed foreign. I used to know every rock and every leaf. I created them. It used to be an exact replica of the Garden of Eden from the Dawn of Days.

Now it was overgrown and weird. I didn't recognize it. It was no longer welcoming, no longer home. It was jarring. The smells had changed and all the plants had warped and darkened from the lack of care and the intrusion of negative energy. It wasn't a pretty place, like it used to be. It was blackened, twisted, and charred. I wanted to be somewhere else but there was nowhere else to go.

I cried out to the first name that came to mind.

Wendy.