#babe wake up new theo's art just dropped

[antthss]

[ellewritesathing]

Infernal    IX

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 2k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 9

A/N: sorry for dropping of the face of the earth!! i’ve been super overwhelmed with uni but here we are 💕 enjoy the angst

When you went to her for help to face the Absolute Dark, Lilith had told you that you could feed on the dark and absorb its power. Even after unbinding your powers, you were left with more power than ever before. You were warned about the dangers of power, but no one told you how consuming it would be. There wasn't a moment that went by that you didn't draw on the Darkness, and almost all you could think about was testing the limits of your power. Every day was a new attempt at mastery, sometimes in the form of controlling a jerk who went too far and other times by tearing through the pages of a grimoire. You'd missed school. You hadn’t talked to your friends in days. For the first time in your life, you were selfish.

You thought Caliban would have liked the new, rebellious version of you better - Lilith certainly did - but he’d been acting strangely ever since the incident at the Paramount. He was more closed-off with you than before, more hesitant with what he said or did to you. At first, his concern for your safety was amusing, but now it just infuriated you. You felt watched and alone even when you were with him.

If he didn’t trust you anymore, then Caliban should just leave. 

The flame on the wick exploded, and you cursed as you shook out your burnt palm and scowled at the ruined ritual in front of you. Exploring the Celestial Realm would have to wait.

“Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound upon a wheel of fire.” 

“That mine own tears do scald like molten lead.” With a sigh, you lowered your palm to your side and turned to face the familiar voice in the corner of your room. “King Lear.” 

Caliban’s mouth turned up into a smile. “You’ve been reading.” He leaned easily against your doorframe, seemingly forgetting how your last interaction had blown up. 

“I’ve had time,” you said. You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked closer. “What are you doing here?” 

Caliban shrugged and stepped closer. “Quiet day in Hell. I thought we could talk.” 

“And what do you want to talk about today?” 

Caliban reached a hand out to the side of your neck, but you didn’t move. His touch was frosty. “Theo says you haven’t been at school. He was worried about you.” 

Your voice caught in your throat. The Darkness stirred at the idea of your friends talking about you behind your back. “I didn’t know you two were so close.”

“Well, since Rosalind is dating Huckleberry Finn, so Theo is my favorite…” Caliban sucked in a breath when you didn’t respond to his joke. He dropped his hand and looked down for a moment. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?” 

“Your offer to fix me?” 

“That isn't what I said.” 

“But it’s what you meant.” You poked his chest angrily. “Because you think there’s something wrong with me.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” Caliban’s easy sense of calm faltered as he reached for your hand. He wasn't used to being vulnerable or trying so hard. “Please, will you just listen to me for a moment? This much Darkness is dangerous. It’s changing you.” 

“Have you ever thought this is how I’m supposed to be?” You stepped closer and lowered your voice. “I’m Lilith's heir. I’m made of darkness.”

“This isn’t who you are.” 

“Yes, it is!” 

The candles behind you reignited, their flames exploding to touch your ceiling. You ripped your hands away and stumbled back. Even with all the arguing you'd done and all Darkness in your veins, you’d never yelled at Caliban before then. You breathed heavy, unsteady breaths, trying to get your heart to stop racing and your hands to stop shaking. 

Despite his furrowed brow and stormy eyes, Caliban was rooted to the spot just in front of your door. His hand twitched to help you, but he didn’t make any other movements. 

“There is nothing wrong with me, do you understand? I’m not broken.” 

Caliban’s lips parted, but lightning cracked in your room before he got the chance to speak. The candles were snuffed out in the blinding light, and for a moment, the room was deathly still. The hair on your arms stood on end. 

Lilith’s cry brought you back to reality. She clutched her ginormous belly in one hand and clung to one of the minions with her other. When she opened her eyes, instead of explaining, she zeroed in on Caliban. “What is he doing here?” 

“He was just leaving,” you said before he could answer. As angry as you were with him, you weren’t going to let your mother hurt him. 

Caliban smiled, but it wasn’t as warm as before; his smile was something rueful and tight-lipped. He bowed, twirling his hand as he did, and said, “As you wish,” before disappearing in Hellfire.

It would have hurt less if he stuck a dagger in your chest and twisted. 

Lilith screamed again as she crumpled to her knees. Glaring up at you, she forced out, “Something’s wrong with my baby. Take me to Zelda Spellman.”

---

Growing up, it had always been you and your dad. He taught you how to tie your shoes, tried an awfully intricate hairstyle for your first day of school, and read you a story every night before bed. As much as you loved him, it always felt as though your family was missing something. Having long given up on your mom ever coming home, you asked him if you could have a little brother. He promised that one day, when you’d probably forgotten that you asked in the first place, you’d get a little brother. 

It was an easy lie to get you to stop asking about having a family - except, as you held the sleeping lump in your arms, you realized that your dad never lied to you. This perfect, troublesome little lump was all you’d ever wanted. 

“What do you want to name him?” Lilith asked. You turned away from the window to face her as she pulled herself into a sitting position. She winced slightly as she did, more out of annoyance than pain. 

“What?” 

Rolling her eyes, she repeated, “What do you want to name him?” 

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. Looking down at his face, it was hard to believe he came into this world without a name. It was hard to believe that you’d only had him a few hours at most. “Michael?” 

“Less angelic,” Lilith critiqued, taking a long sip from the healing elixir Hilda had given her. Her disdain for herbalism was clear on the look of her face.

You huffed, rocking slightly on your heel to keep him sleeping. “His name is Adam.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you thought about it, sounding offhand but packing a punch. Lilith’s grip on the glass turned her fingers bone white. After an icy second, she repeated the name to herself. A wicked smile covered her features. “Adam,” she hummed. “I could agree to that, on the condition that-”

A knock sounded at the door and Lilith froze. Whoever was outside knocked again and you heard Zelda mumbling as the door handle turned and Lilith told them to come inside. She pulled you and Adam closer to her side. Uncharacteristically patient for her, Lilith waited for the witches to shuffle inside and explain that the Lords of Hell were asking to pay tribute to Adam. 

The Uninvited had been the Darkness' family. When they were trapped in the alternate reality of Sabrina's dollhouse, the Darkness had lashed out with a white-hot fury, pushing angrily at your ribs and trying to break out. The thought of Adam being taken away from made the Darkness just as angry, but the scary thing was that it made you even angrier. 

“Pay tribute?” Lilith scoffed, reaching to take Adam from your arms. Reluctantly, you let her take him. “They are here for one reason and one reason only: to kill my baby.” Before either of the Spellmans could respond, she added, “The baby you just delivered, Zelda Spellman.”

Zelda knotted her hands together. “Very well. Let’s give them the welcome they deserve.” Turning to the witches, “Ladies, if you’ll follow me.” 

“Actually…” you stepped forward and tilted your chin up. “I’d like to have a word with them.”

Zelda faltered for the first time in all the years you’d known her. She might have known about your powers, but it must have been difficult for her to process that the child that brought her dandelions each spring was a demon. “Alright,” she said with a nod. “We will be right beside you.” 

With a nod of your own, you led the way to the Academy gates. Your chest buzzed at the idea of being one of these witches, butterflies fluttering through the Darkness with all the excitement. Standing in front of the Lords, you clenched your tingling fingertips. They were as unpleasant to look at as the day you met them. 

“What do you want?”

They looked at each other for a moment before one of them nodded and the other said, “Word has reached the Infernal Palace that a babe was born of Lucifer’s concubine, Lilith. We come bearing gifts?”

“Aren’t there supposed to be three of you?” With each word, you took a step down the gates. Pointing a finger at the gifts in their hands, you asked, “With gold, frankincense, and myrrh instead of these … trinkets?” 

The other one pulled the box close to himself. Asmodeus, if you remembered right. “Bite your tongue, you insolent child. We come at the Dark Lord’s behest.” 

You tilted your head to the side. Letting the Darkness seep into your veins, you told him. “Bite your tongue.” He frowned, blinking slowly. “I said: Bite your tongue, and because you didn’t do it right the first time, now I want you to bite it off.”

His voice rose, but all that came out were a few strangled noises before Asmodeus’ eyes glazed over, the box fell to the ground, and blood oozed out of his mouth. He spat his tongue into his hands, coughing and trying to speak, as Beelzebub cursed you. 

He didn't get very far before Darkness tinged your vision as you turned to him. You didn’t have to speak this time to control him, just wave a hand and watch him fall to his knees. 

“We will not leave-” he grit his teeth as he struggled against the weight of your will “-without the babe.”

Bending down, you grabbed one of the horns on the top of his head to pull his face up to meet your own. “No.” You smiled. “No, I don’t think you’ll be leaving here at all.” 

You threw his head to the side and took a step back, watching Asmodeus choke on his own blood and Beelzebub writhe. The Darkness filled your body, and the world grew so still that your heart didn’t dare disturb it by beating. In a cold, distant voice, you recited your most familiar spell. 

“Ater ignus, fusce fume.” Beelzebub yelled. You clenched a fist to force his mouth shut. “Te evoco ut potentium tuam monstres.” A spark ignited, right between each of their shoulder blades. “Cupidibus flammis hic veni.” The flames licked their backs, growing taller and darker by the second. “Caelo sub isto, harc arborem consumo.” The puddle of Asmodeus’ blood caught alight, illuminating his wretched face as it burned. “Lucem tenebrasque tuas monstra. Impetuum tuum evoco ad devorandum.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the Darkness consume all three of you. “Hanc arborem ac omnes hospitas devora.” 

The flames erupted in front of you, blinding your eyes and knocking you off your feet. You were dimly aware of the witches screaming your name and the rush of heels against cobblestones as something sticky and cold dripped down your face. Not tears. Or blood. 

Only Darkness. 

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