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Vaggie remembered when they took her first eye.
It was soon after her first extermination. She was among a dozen others who were brought kneeling before the legion of holy soldiers, a flaming sword in the hands of the Lieutenant.
The older Exorcists stripped them of their helmets, placing them on the ground in front of every soldier. A guide, to be used. Whichever eye was exed over on their helmets would be the one taken. The non-dominant eye, of course. To preserve what little use they had left.
Up until then, it had been a quiet threat. Their group had been treated as fledglings, not worthy of being part of the whole. They had heard the punishment time and time again. For leaving survivors.
It was different, staring at a soul whose eyes reflected the same fear they felt.
How would they know? They all thought. One time. Amongst all of the hundreds killed. One couldn’t hurt, right?
That didn’t excuse their weakness.
Adam knew, somehow. When they came back, Adam always knew. He didn’t let them know that he knew right away, though. He always gave them time to make merry with their comrades, to celebrate, to relish in the completion of their holy duty. To give them hope that maybe, just maybe, they had gotten away with it. When Vaggie lost her eye, he gave them one week.
And then his justice struck.
At least it was quick.
One slash, and an exorcist fell to the ground, ichor streaming down their face. Then on to the next one in line, as their cries all mixed together in a chorus of agony.
Vaggie found herself thanking God that she had been the first to be punished.
She wouldn’t have been able to stand the waiting.
Her helmet was changed, a solid ‘x’ replacing the circle that had been crossed out. She looked more like her sisters, then.
As the years went on, she found herself envying those older Exorcists who still had both circles. Those who did their jobs.
There wasn’t any escape from the army, either. Going to Hell outside of the designated period for the Extermination meant that the demons could do anything they wanted to do. They weren’t allowed into Heaven proper, either. They had nowhere to go.
She pitied the newer soldiers, as the ritual continued year after year, fear building in the hearts of all of them and stomping out any thought of defying the orders of God.
Or Adam, at least.
The second time Vaggie lost an eye, she wasn’t even afforded the grace of being with her sisters-in-arms.
Her seventh Extermination. Or maybe it was her eighth. Or ninth. Maybe even her tenth. She had lost count quickly into her afterlife. She had taken off her helmet, unnerved by how much it had concealed from her when her vision was already halved. She needed to see more, to do her job. The last Extermination, an elder Exorcist had lost her first eye because Adam claimed that she needed to kill any sinner that was within stabbing distance. She had been one of the best, having killed hundreds of thousands of sinners already. The veteran hadn’t been able to see a small sinner because of some blood on her helmet.
Adam didn’t take that as an excuse.
And Vaggie hadn’t wanted to follow in that veteran’s footsteps and lose her other one.
But she had anyways.
Another moment of weakness, facing a child. Or at least, a child-looking sinner. His back was among the last things that Vaggie saw before the Lieutenant came with the wrath of God behind her.
This time, it wasn’t quick.
This time, Vaggie had foolishly fought back.
But the righteous always win.
God always wins.
“Sinful filth like you has no place in Heaven,” Lute had snarled. She had held Vaggie in place, pinning her against the wall as she had squirmed, the holy fire of her sword licking Vaggie’s face.
All Vaggie saw was white when the tip of it dug into her eye.
She felt the blood flow down her face when Lute finally released her. It took longer than it had the first time.
Vaggie couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything besides the sound of her pathetic sobs and whimpers as she felt the ground around her, trying to get her bearings.
Whatever she was supposed to see was all static, flashing in her mind as her last memory was etched into her brain.
Vaggie was pushed to the ground, and strong hands wrapped themselves around the bases of her wings. She was helpless to fight against Lute as her wings were ripped from her body.
Her halo was taken shortly afterwards. She felt that. But it was nothing compared to the pulsing agony of her back and eye.
She found herself praying that she would just bleed out and die. Every beat of her heart made more warmth course down her back, painting everything in gold.
Was her blood even gold anymore? She didn’t know; she couldn’t see it. She wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t, though.
There weren’t many other thoughts besides the pain as her consciousness slipped away from her.
Vaggie woke up to a clip-clop sound, panic rushing through her veins as she tried to get her bearings, only registering static instead. She blinked eyes that no longer sat in their sockets, inflaming one and making the other twinge in pain. She felt the dried blood that covered her back and soaked into her clothes.
She felt around her, trying to find where her dropped spear was to maybe defend herself. A laughable attempt. What good would she be in a fight?
The smell of rot and gold filled her nostrils as she turned her head from side to side, as if that would somehow let her see something. Her stomach was tying itself into knots as her hands touched what Vaggie thought was her own blood. She hoped it was just her blood. Maybe some tears were in it, too, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to think of what else it could possibly be.
Her frantic searching was cut short, when she heard the unmistakable clink of her spearhead against the ground.
Vaggie froze, trying to figure out where it came from. She was covered in blood, in enemy territory, blind, wingless, and now defenseless. She at least wanted to face whoever it was that would end her.
“You know what I am, don’t you?” Vaggie growled to someone who she wasn’t sure would even answer.
There was silence for a couple of agonizing seconds. Vaggie shifted around, a snarl forming on her face even as tears of pain pushed its way out from her empty eyes. The warm air of Hell oozed its way into every open wound, suffocating not just Vaggie’s lungs.
“Yes,” a voice finally replied, and Vaggie stilled. It was… less raspy than Vaggie found herself expecting. She wasn’t sure why that was. Maybe because she thought that all demons would have smoker’s lung from indulging in that sin. In all honesty, Vaggie found the voice soothing to hear, which comforted her just a little bit. At least there would be something nice when she was inevitably killed.
“Then do it.” The Exorcist straightened up, spreading her arms to the side even as her back screamed in pain. “End it. Kill me. That’s all you demons know what to do, anyways.”
Vaggie added a bit of bite to the last sentence, a challenge and a feeble attempt to keep some of her pride intact. She didn’t want to think about what worse things might be done to her if she was allowed to live. All of the torture that might be used to stroke this demon’s ego. If she riled them up enough, got them to act impulsively, then maybe she might be spared the pain.
“…is that what you think of us?” The voice asked.
“What does it matter to you?” Vaggie snapped. “You’re all the same. You live in Hell. You’re down here for a reason. There are no consequences for what you do anymore. This is your consequence. Do you think I’m stupid? I’m no stranger to the punishment of God. Besides, the Extermination is over, isn’t it? You’re free to kill me now. What a great trophy my head would make, mounted on a wall. Or my wings. They’re around here, somewhere, I bet.”
Vaggie gestured vaguely around her. She assumed no one had moved them, if she was still alive now. Honestly, she wondered why someone didn’t try to stick her with her spear when she was unconscious. Maybe the Extermination had only recently ended, and this demon was the first one who found her.
(She didn’t want to consider the possibility that she couldn’t die. An eternity of torment, stumbling around blind and kept in a state of almost-death would be too much to bear.)
“Maybe both? What do I know? Better hurry and kill me, though. Before someone else steals the credit. Oh, how strong you would look, to brag to everyone else that you felled a big, bad Exorcist. So go ahead.”
The back of Vaggie’s hand brushed against the cool metal of her spearhead, and she pulled it towards her, cutting up the palms of her hands as she rested it against her chest. Her arms were shaking, and her fingers could barely hold onto the spear, otherwise she would do it herself.
“Do it,” Vaggie challenged. “And wherever souls go next, hopefully there is no God.”
She breathed heavily as she awaited her end, pushing herself slightly against her spear. A small sense of relief creeped into her veins. It would all be over soon. Her fear. Her pain. Her suffering.
She wished she could have done it earlier. Maybe it was a blessing, that down here there was no holy medicine that could heal the bite of Angelic Steel.
That relief was soon turned to dread as her spear was taken away from her body, and the form of the demon seemed to step back.
“I don’t hurt anyone,” the voice said, “and that includes you. No matter what you’ve done or what you believe. I’m out here to help my people. And right now, you’re one of my people.”
“Like Hell I am.”
There was silence for a brief moment.
“I-I realize you can’t see me, but I’m gesturing around myself.” The way that the voice seemed to be flustered amused Vaggie slightly. What did this demon think Vaggie had left to care? “We are in Hell. The cruelty of whatever you think was God can’t touch you now. Therefore, you are one of my people.”
Hope was fading fast from Vaggie’s mind, as her entire body started to tremble. Her blood wasn’t streaming down her body anymore, and she wasn’t sure if she could even bleed out now that her wounds seemed to have closed somewhat.
“God has already punished me. An eye for an eye, they decreed. Twice, I was weak. I only had two eyes to lose. They took what was theirs to take and they kept my spirit, what was theirs to keep. What makes you think I belong to you now?”
“You’re in my land. In my home. You have no halo. You bleed upon my ground.”
“This isn’t your ground,” Vaggie spat, desperate. She wanted to die. Why couldn’t this demon just do what they all did best and kill her already? “You aren’t Lucifer.”
“No. No, I’m not. He’s my dad, though.”