How she had found out, I never knew. Yet she had. My wife had finally discovered how to destroy humanity. It was a plan so simple, so perfectly planned it couldn’t possibly fail, and being who I am, it couldn’t possibly succeed, either. There would be repercussions, questions, endless quantum logistical nightmares to be sorted. She had to be stopped.
“You really don’t think you’re going to stop me, are you? I’d do your job much better, you’ve gone far too soft these past few years. I’ve been here long enough by now, I know all the technicalities, and poor Asmodeus really does need something constructive to do, he gets bored so easily….”
Lilith paced the floor in front of my chair and thought out loud, but I had already tuned her out. Four thousand years of marriage will do that. As she kept talking and pacing, I simply sat back and watched her, watched that long, leggy stride eat up the rug in six steps, watched her turn as elegantly as any runway model, blonde hair swinging, and pace back again.
She was flawless. Flawlessly beautiful in that twenty-first century porn-star way that left no room for imperfections or doubts, and flawless bored me. Any woman who began every single sentence with ‘I’ was nothing but trouble. Take my word for it.
“You don’t understand at all, do you?” I finally said. “All so simple, all so black-and-white, all so nicely categorized into neat little boxes that tell you it must be a cinch to do my job. Nothing is that simple, Lilith.”
“Four thousand years, and you still sound like a scratched vinyl LP, don’t you? ‘Nothing is that simple’, ” she taunted. “Bullshit. Just more male chauvinist pseudo-philosophical cant from someone who thinks he’s better than me simply for having a penis…”
Did I tell you that my lovely wife became a screaming lesbian just to spite me? Nothing against lesbians. But spite. Really. She’s Queen of the Succubi. No coincidence.
The instant before I tuned her out again, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. A text message from Saint Peter. “God’s study. All done. Wait for it!”
If she only knew what I was planning. I stood up to go.
Surprised at the names? The truth would surprise you even more.
I’ve been called so many names, I can’t take half of them seriously anymore. Satan, The Devil, Lucifer, The Fallen One, Evil Incarnate, Mephistopheles, the Son of the Morning Star, Shaitan – oh, you humans have never lacked imagination. I don’t have cloven feet, do not in fact, look or function at all different than you if I choose.
Once, you needed to give the personification of evil an evil face, needed to dehumanize and externalize it to make it easier to identify. If your history has taught you anything, it’s that true unadulterated evil can wear any face at all, including your own.
Forget the lies you’ve been force-fed since childhood. Forget that I am supposed to be God’s adversary. Like all dogma and most religion, it’s nothing but a select few shining truths wrapped around a million incandescent lies.
I’m getting ahead of myself. I had a wife I needed to destroy. I needed a little human help, because once upon a time the Queen of the Succubi had been human, too, before she forced herself upon me and refused to let me go.
So Saint Peter had been given an assignment – to find a human who could do the job, who would be amenable to the benefits we could provide, who could handle the horrors that came with it. Over six billion humans on Earth, and we only needed one. A woman, for no other reason than nothing can destroy a woman like another one.
Please, Saint Peter, just make sure she has tits. And if you could, make her a blonde.