The Fall of Meg
The demon blinked her eyes open, forcing her eyes to refocus, and shook her head, attempting to bring herself out of her dazed stupor. Meg lay on the scorched ground in a supine position for a few seconds more before sitting up. She used her left hand to prop herself up causing thick glass shards to cut into hand. Before she was able to get her feet under her, she slipped once and did a hard face plant into the charred dirt. The damn angel had taken her damn right arm damn clean off, which had made it a damn bitch to stand up.
Practically dragging her left leg, Meg moved to a nearby tree that had a long burn scoring its trunk. Exhausted, Azazel's daughter leaned against the tree further soiling her clothes with ash. She didn't give a shit; all her garments were already dirty, burnt, and shredded. The demon tried to reach for her cigarettes, but it just so happened they were in her right jean's pocket.
Damn that angel, she thought. After some twisting and fidgeting, she was able to get to her Camel pack. She found the one cigarette that wasn't torn and only partially squashed. Meg threw the rest of the pack away; all the other cigarettes had been destroyed. Although her glass cut hand had already healed, it was still bloody, and it stained the cigarette. Having to do the same awkward movements to fish out her lighter as well, she lit her cigarette and breathed in the smoke. She tasted her own blood as the smoke pleasantly burned the back of her throat. Her eyes were closed when she exhaled the smoke back out.
Castiel was dead. She had actually managed to defeat the Angel of Thursday. Meg didn't know how she was supposed to feel about that. Why should she feel anything but the thrill of victory? Defeating Feathers had been her greatest triumph as a demon. He had put up one hell of a fight which she had expected nothing less. The cigarette glowed orange as she took another draw. Still a part of her felt regret, she was sad to say. Meg wished she could just mark the emotion up to the fact that she had never got to boink the angel. However, she knew she was lying to herself. That was just only one piece of why she felt how she did.
The fight just couldn't have been avoided though. She would be damned if she would let those two Winchester pansies and the cloud hopper trap her in hell for all eternity. She had too many things to kill and people she wanted to do for that to happen. Tonight she had completed her objective by taking out the angel. It had been tiring work and she was going to stay put for a time to get some rest. So, she continued to smoke her cigarette against the scorched mark tree. As she did so, her mind drifted back to the battle that just had transpired.
Moments ago …
Meg paced back and forward in a clearing that was mostly void of any trees. It wasn't just because of nerves, but she was trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings as much as she could. Know your terrain; it was a tenant of war that she planned to uphold. She had picked this field out in the boonies of East Texas, because this battle would get ugly and loud quicker than it takes a politician to lie. Out here, there wouldn't be anyone to get alarmed and alert the authorities. One of the last things the demon wanted was to have to slaughter some redneck sheriff department while trying to kill an angel at the same time. Also, the nearby hills and pine wood forest would hide some of the nastier surprises she had in stored for the angel.
Once more, she went over a mental checklist of the preparations she made for dealing with angel boy. Satisfied that she was as prepared as could be, she nodded and walked to the middle of the soon to be battlefield. When she stopped, she took one deep breath. Of course, she didn't need the oxygen, but it help to steel herself for what was to come. This fight, if the angel did show, would be do or die. There would be no banishing circles made or quarter given here tonight. That wouldn't accomplish would needed to be done.
She looked up to the night time sky. The stars were bright here without a city lights' ambience to block them out. It was winter here which meant that it had been temperate in the day time until the sun had set. Now, it was near freezing, the air crisp, and Meg could see her breath when she decided to take one. A wind blew from the northwest, and she hoped that it wouldn't change at an inopportune time.
"Hey Clarence! This is Meg. I need your help," the demon yelled out to the angel, unfamiliar with speaking to him like this. She wasn't entirely sure that yelling into the sky would get the job done, but she sure as hell wasn't going to get on her knees to pray. Also did she have to say his full name, she wondered? Was that like an address she needed to use so he would receive his voicemail? "I'm in East Texas, south of I-20 –," she continued.
She cut off shouting when the angel suddenly appeared in front of her. A handful of tense seconds went by in silence as they stood, only some feet apart, staring at each other. Checking him over, she noted that he was back to the suit and tie under that tan trench coat. It was apparent that Cas was giving her a once over, as well. She fought down those goddamn feelings that sometime materialize in his presence.
"Hey there, sugar lips," Meg spoke first, not being able to stop giving him her best mischievous grin.
"Meg, how did – Why are –," Clarence talked quickly, obviously confused. There were many questions he wanted to ask at once, but he decided what his first should be. "Are you ok?"
"Oh shut up, feather brains," she rolled her eyes and stepped closer toward him. She gestured with her right hand at his attire. "I see you're back to your normal but very limited wardrobe. I guess the rumors are true then. You have found all your marbles. Good for you."
"If you are referring to my sanity, then yes. It has been restored," he replied in his usual deep and impassive voice all the while Meg approached even closer. Still now after all she had been through with Crowley, she was drawn to him like a moth to a bonfire. "Where have you been?" He looked unsure whether he should maintain his distance from her or not. The angel didn't move as he tried to decide
At that point though, the demon was practically toe to toe with the angel, staring up at him before she answered his question. "Well after our raid on the mouth heads, I became a resident in Hell … again," Meg said as she began to straighten his tie. Afterwards, she even straightened his shirt collar. Of course, she saw the comedy in her actions immediately. Over a year of torture in Hell, but leave it to Clarence to bring out the mother hen in her. She guessed that a fraction of her was and would always still be the caretaker of a sick angel. As for the angel's part, Cas didn't flinch or recoil away, not even when the demon's hands were that close to his throat. Maybe a piece of him would always be that sick angel in need of a demon caretaker, she thought.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, struggling to apologize to a demon. Hard to do that for him, she knew; all his angelic conditioning told him demons rightfully belonged in Hell. She took it for a sign that he had conflicting feelings about her presence.
If Meg had noticed or was bothered by his difficulty to express regret at her fate, she didn't show it. She simply shrugged her shoulders as she dusted off his shoulders with her hands, getting a feel of his deltoid muscles. "Don't be, sweet cheeks. It was a blast. Crowley and I played board games and Twister. You would have loved it." Meg eyes twinkled as she gave the angel a big teasing smile. Fly boy knew she was ribbing him, and he just rolled his eyes and shook his head at her response.
"How did you escape?" She froze in placed wishinghe hadn't asked that question so soon.
Meg's smile dropped from her face as did her hands from his shoulders and her eyes from his. Slowly, she shuffled away from the angel. He got noticeably anxious as she did so. It was ironic that the angel was visibly more nervous as she was moving away than when she had approached him. Stopping when she was well out of arms reach, she met his gaze again. "I didn't." Her voice wasn't quite a whisper, but it was much softer now.
Twisting his head slightly to the side in confusion, Cas took a step forward. Meg promptly stepped back to keep the distance between them from closing. "I don't understand. How are you here?" The angel didn't attempt another step forward.
"Crowley gave me a deal." It wasn't something Meg was proud of. Yet, it was what it was, and what it was, was Meg's survival. The angel didn't reply, only waited. Meg continued, "The deal was for my freedom and getting off his most wanted list in exchange for completing a mission for him."
"What mission?" His eyes narrowed, his face darkening.
For her answer, an angelic sword sled down her right arm into her hand. Comprehension dawned on him, and his eyes widened as his fight or flight response started to kick in.
The angel regarded the blade, looked back at Meg, and then searched all around him. For the first time, the angel really began to take stock of his surroundings. He was probably kicking himself right now for not smelling a rat in the first place. She had called out an S.O.S. to him, but when he had arrived, she was alive, alone, and unharmed. His eyes were weighing the situation but also contained confusion within as well.
"In case you're wondering why I didn't just stick this in your side just then, it's because I haven't fully decided if I will until you answer me one thing." She used the blade to point at the angel. "Is it true? Was Crowley lying? Are you helping dumb and dumber to seal off Hell?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from the cloud hopper himself.
Before he answered, his own sword fell into his hand. Prudent, she thought. "It is true."
Meg shivered as rage poured into her demonic soul. Knowing the answer was different from hearing it from her last so-called ally. Never would she acknowledge it, but his admittance felt like an act of betrayal. Involuntarily, her eyes filled to a deep black, her mouth twisted into a snarl, and her hands grip the blade's hilt tight, the weapon begging to be used. "What the fuck, Clarence?" She started to circle him in a counterclockwise motion. "What the fuck?" The demon repeated, practically yelling now at the angel.
Cas wasn't about to let Meg get behind him, and he began to pace in a circle of his own. Meg's rage was palpable in the night air, and she was losing containment on her demonic power. It was like standing next to an enormous power generator and feeling the energy it produced in the air. The angel prepared himself for an imminent attack. "Closing the gates of Hell would be a major victory to safeguard humanity. I owe the Winchesters to help them in this endeavor."
"You owe them?" Meg sounded incredulous. "What about me, huh? What do you owe me?" She gestured to herself with her left thumb.
"What about you?" His voice could have frozen lava. Meg hadn't expected it and flinched as though he had personally bitch slapped her.
She recovered quickly and growled back at the ungrateful asshole. "How about those times when I helped you and your boys out? Does that count for shit?"
"You have always had your ulterior agenda, Meg. Don't pretend otherwise." He countered. "Our alliances have never been more than temporary."
"I was there with you in the hospital when those two shits you call your friends left you." This time she was yelling at the angel. "I've risked my life for you, and you're gonna condemn me to Hell as thanks? Fuck you!"
Her words made the angel break her angry stare, and he looked away. It was the opening that Meg had been looking for. He opened his mouth as though he decided how to reply, but the demon was already on the move.
If a normal human had been witnessing the fight, they would never have been able to catch the two supernatural creatures' movements. They both moved in a perpetual blur. Meg had flipped the angelic sword in a reverse grip position where the blade point down in her fist. Even though caught off guard, the angel still had tremendous reaction time and speed. In a wide backhand arc, he swiped his blade at where he thought the demon's head would be. However, it swung too high as Meg went to a baseball slide to slice at his torso. She connected with the angel, but his maneuver had made her miss her intended target. Instead, she had opened a shallow gash on his thigh. Cas hissed in pain as a bright light pour out of his wound.
In one smooth motion, Meg twirled in the air so that she landed back on her two feet facing Clarence. She quickly considered taking another shot at the angel but quickly dismiss the idea when suddenly he simply vanished from where he had been standing. If she had looked behind her first, she probably would have been done killed in that instant. Instead, she made a blind kick backwards and felt her foot connect with the angel's chest. She ran after him as he tumbled several yards backwards.
The angel was indeed fast. By the time she closed in, the angel had done that karate move where he jumped to his feet from laying prone on his back instantly. Still, she also had speed on her side and kept him on the defensive as long as she could. Sparks flew when their two blades struck each other. In a matter of seconds, Meg would thrust her sword at Clarence to have him parry it to where she would then counter parry. They would repeat that process until Feathers began to get on the offensive. '
Disengaging, Meg took a couple of hops away from the angel. If she attempted to make another go at it, that would be the end of this fight. No, she would have to make another try to catch him with his pants down again. Hence, she began to encircle and goading him again.
"Have you ever thought about what the negative consequences will be if you, Deano, and Bullwinkle close those gates?"
"That will not work again, Meg," Cas said seeing through her ploy.
Meg ignored his comment and continued on. "If the exits to Hell are shut off, so are the entrances. Think of all those evil souls with nowhere to go filling the world with bitter and dangerous spirits."
"You don't know that will happen." He was right, of course. She was just throwing bullshit at him seeing if it might stick, but it still got him thinking.
"You know I'm not a fan of the man – or woman? – whatever, but God must have had a reason for creating those gates. Sure, a few of us demons get out every now and then, but for the most part it's a one way only into Hell. Unless you go through with whatever you have planned."
"Again, this is just supposition." His words were more confident than his tone. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind from the southern direction blew by, and it carried sounds from the tree line. Unnatural sounds. Cas's eyes darted at once to the forest; he had heard the noise as well. Meg quickly pressed him to regain his attention.
"What if I am right though? How many people die every day on this planet? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? I would wiki it, but I doubt my phone gets service out here." Actually pulling out her phone, she checked. She did not. "The point is: it would be a matter of days before the earth is filled with restless revenging ghosts."
Cas shook his head, seriously doubting her words. It wasn't the best window of opportunity, but she took it anyway. The demon barreled towards the angel, and jumped in the air. She was hoping to pull off a superman punch, except with a sword in place of her fists. It was an epic failure. The angel caught her wrist, and she would have tripped to the ground had he not held her sword arm above her head. Planting her feet quickly, she struggled in vain against Cas's might.
"I told you that would not work again," he said with a small grin. Smug little bastard, she thought. The angel jabbed his sword forward aiming for her abdomen. This time it was Meg who caught his wrist. She didn't even endeavor to stop his stab but focused on deflecting it instead. Partially successful, his sword only glanced off one of her left ribs, and she growled at the pain. Meg took a quick look at her wound and decided it would heal quickly. Then she looked back up, and it didn't take long for her to notice that her body was now pressed up against the angel's. Memories of their first meeting surfaced to her mind.
Terrified, Meg braced herself in anticipation of Cas's hand landing on her forehead burning the demon out of existence. This had been a shitty short fight, she thought, and all her preparation was for nothing. However, the angel didn't move. He kept a strong grasp on her sword hand and held her tight with his right arm, studying her. The seconds that went by were agonizing.
"You seem stronger since we last met," was all he said, still not going for the death blow.
Meg didn't dare let herself believe that he wouldn't kill her, but she answered back anyway. "Yeah, well, I made Crowley make me tougher as part of the deal, seeing how I had to face you."
"Hmm. So, what can you do now?" He tilted his head to the side.
She could have kissed the angel for setting her up with that one liner. In fact, she almost did. Her head slowly, sensuously stretched up, her mouth heading for his. To her surprise, the angel lowered his head as though to meet her lips. Yet, she stopped just short and whispered to him like he once had. "I can do this." Just then, the demon's knee connected to Clarence's groin.
The usually stoic angel's eyes bulged with surprise and pain, and he made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan. His gripped loosened just enough that Meg was able to break free. Jumping backwards several feet, she landed in a defensive posture just in case he would recover that quickly. Such was not the case. The cloud hopper was bent over slightly and holding his stomach with his free hand. The demon doubted that anyone before had ever gone for angel's divine royal jewels, and he was shocked by how much pain it caused. He had been ignorant to the fact that it didn't matter who or what you are, even to a powerful angel, a kick to the balls was a kick to the balls.
"And that's why I choose women meat suits!" she yelled in triumph. Meg couldn't help but gloat, but it had just cost her an opportunity to make another strike at the angel. Cas was already shaking off the pain and focused back all his attention on her. She didn't despair at the missed chance however. The demon had achieved her goal at buying time for her backup to get in place.
The tree-toper just stared daggers at her, as expected, and Meg just beamed back at him. Of course, she didn't feel as confident as her manner conveyed, and she slowly added to the distance between them. The angel noticed that and must have decided that she was going to try and make a run for it, which the demon found somewhat insulting. He erected himself to his full height, either fully recovered or ignoring the pain. "You cannot escape, Meg, and you will not win this fight. I am still the stronger." Egotistical much, she thought, but he was right. Clarence began to stride confidently for her, and Meg kept moving backwards.
"You know, although Crowley is the king of douchebags, but there is one advantage working with him." The angel kept moving forward, showing no interest in her words. "You know what that is?" she hesitated for a theatrical pause, "Unlimited manpower." Meg halted her retreat, and the angel stopped his progress in response, not sure if he was heading into a trap. Using her thumb and index finger, she whistled and waved her angelic sword in a circle, signaling for her reinforcements. The sound Meg made was loud, louder than what a normal human lung should be able to produce. At first, the noise only echoed off the trees in the quiet night. Then all hell broke loose, almost quite literally, in rural East Texas.
Leaves and pine straw first began to rustle in the distance, but then the sound grew until it resembled the sound of a freight train. Demon smoke broke out of the forest into the clearing from all sides. Over a hundred demons cleared the tree line. Some were so densely packed in smoke columns, they knocked over trees. The demon horde raced to where the angel and Meg were standing. Clarence stood ready and fearless to take on all the new aggressors. Yet, when the closest of the demon smoke were just yards away, they dove down, vanishing into the ground. All around the angel, every one of the demons disappeared beneath the earth. Once again, silence filled the countryside. The angel looked at Meg, clearly not understanding what was happening. Meg just winked and smiled in reply and retreated. The angel wouldn't give chase without first evaluating what had recently transpired
Meg was seeking to utilize a version of a tactic used during the Second World War which the Japanese had employed and had moderately success against the American marines. Digging shallow holes, Japanese soldiers would lie in hiding with camouflaged covering the top of such holes. They would wait until the marines would be right on top of them. When that happened, the Japanese would spring their ambush on the unsuspecting Americans, essentially surrounding them in a matter of seconds.
Her plan was essentially the same with some modifications. Just like the Japanese, the demons dug shallow ditches all around the field and created false, disguised tops for them. However, they couldn't just lie in wait, because he angel would have immediately noticed so many demons in one area. So, they had kidnapped humans from the surrounding area, tranquilized them, and hidden their bodies in the holes. Meg had kept the angel busy so that the demon horde could get into position without notice. Clarence had indeed heard something on the wind, and it had been these demons moving into place.
Abruptly, demon possessed humans jumped out of their hiding spaces and roared into battle. All around Clarence, the demon horde sprang into action and bull rushed the angel. The humans that were possessed were all different races, age, and genders. Meg had even seen some blue hair granny with a walking cane running wilding into battle. Who had pick that meat suit, she wondered. As for herself, Meg walked calmly to another ditch. This trench didn't contain a meat suit, however, but weapons, instead. When she kicked open the top, she stared down at the contents. Inside were four duffels, a steel rod, and a large ceramic urn full of holy oil. She picked up the latter, hefting it over her right shoulder.
As Meg walked away from her weapon cache, a demon was knocked clear out of the massive brawl brewing behind her. He landed screaming right in front of her set path. "Get up you, pussy," she said as she walked on top of him, continuing on her way.
She had no real expectations that the demon horde would triumph over the angel. Some but not all had angelic swords at hand. However, Crowley didn't have nearly enough to arm all the demons. As a trained soldier, Clarence would prioritize targets that presented a high level threat and engage them first. With so many demons on hand, he probably wouldn't be able to neutralize all of them. If he couldn't smite a demon, he would incapacitate them in some way, instead. Well, that's what her experience as a warrior of Hell told her to do, anyway. If by some unholy miracle, the demon horde did manage to take down the angel, she planned to kill every survivor and take all the credit for herself. She wasn't holding her breath on their success though. They were merely a distraction for the next stage of her plan, and all were expendable.
Meg searched around and found the only one demon that hadn't joined the fray with the others. That one was jogging lithely toward her despite carrying what must be heavy items. Large ammo boxes were carried by their handles in each hand, and over his left shoulder was a heavy duty tripod. Tucked under his right arm, there was the large boxy shape of a Browning .50 caliber machine gun. She gestured with her sword to where she would want the gun to be positioned.
"Set it up over there, and hurry up" she ordered.
The other demon nodded in compliance and moved toward the location she had indicated. This demon had taken possession of a tall lanky teenage boy with a greasy pock marked face that usually accompanied people his age. She had no idea what the human kid had really been like before this night, but the meat suit didn't look all that bright. That was fitting, because Meg had taken to call this demon Dumbass, not bothering to learn his real name. Still, what would have normally taken two or three humans, Dumbass did by himself, assembling the heavy machine gun quickly.
After she had checked his work and was satisfied with the work, she gave him his final orders. "Alright, Dumbass, on my signal you open up on the angel. You don't let up for anything. Got it?" He nodded in the affirmative, and Meg continued to glare at the demon for good measure. She had made sure she had picked the dumbest of Crowley's goons for this job. Meg hadn't shared her full plans with anyone, but someone attentive enough would figure out that behind that gun would be the last place you wanted to be. Dumbass wasn't intelligent enough to see his true role in all this, and he would stay put without coercion.
"Listen to me carefully," her voice was low and deadly, just audible enough over the sound of fighting behind her, "If you don't do exactly what I say, I will tear off your nuts, feed them to you, let them regenerate, and do it again. Understand?" Of course, coercion always helped when it came to working with demons. Dumbass nodded and gulped noticeably, a very human gesture. Shit, she thought, this one must be fresh off the torture rack. It confirmed she had chosen the right one for this job.
Satisfied she had put the fear of Satan in Dumbass, she hefted the jar of holy oil off her shoulder to grip it by both hands. Careful to use only as much as needed, she poured the contents in a circle large enough and then some to encompass the gun position. The demon behind the Browning watched, clearly puzzled by Meg's actions, but didn't show any sign of running. When she caught him staring, he quickly looked back at the gun as though it needed to be fiddled with.
Afterwards, she walked a few feet from the completed circle and began to pour more oil. While she worked on completing her angel trap, the battle between the single angle and the demon horde raged on. Taking notice when she could, Meg saw that the demons were indeed getting their asses handed to them as she thought they would. The scent of human blood and sweat filled what had been stale and cold air.
Demons swore, yelled, and screamed as they kept trying to surround the angel, attacking as a mob. As soon as it looked as though the angel had been completely cornered, he would fly out of danger, instantly appearing outside the mass of attackers. Those whom he landed behind were promptly dispatched. Many times she couldn't actually see what was transpiring. Demons would smoke out trying to escape the wrathful angel of God, obstructing her view of the fight. Through that smoke, she could see the lights of other demons being smote. It looked as if a small raging thundercloud had been pulled down from the sky to the ground. Once she saw one demon with an angel blade have his arm ripped off by the angel. That would suck, she thought.
One time Meg had caught herself, no longer working, staring in a trance at Clarence. As the angel went about massacring her own kind, she couldn't help but think he was so damn beautiful. He was a force of nature bringing down vengeance on biblical proportions, literally. She had to admonish her warped demon mind; this was no time for getting moist over an angel she was trying to kill. Realizing that her demon back up was not about to last much longer, Meg set herself back to quickly finishing her work. After her work was done, she retrieved the four duffels and metal pole from the same place she had got the oil jar.
If the angel trap didn't work, she would need to get to what was in one of those bags. Since she had no idea which way she would have to run, she placed the duffels in four different directions around the angel trap. Kneeling down outside the circles of oil, she took out the angelic blade and attached it on top the metal staff. The rod had been custom machined to fasten the blade at the end, transforming it from an angelic sword to an angelic spear.
As Meg looked, she could see that only twenty or so demons remained fighting the cloud hopper. She had completed her preparations none too soon. "Hey Dumbass, now!" she yelled at the possessed teenager behind the machine gun. Dumbass hesitated looking at the other demons still left in the battle. "Satan damn it, fire, you stupid shit!" She roared furiously.
Dumbass pulled back the action and fired the Browning .50 caliber. The muzzle flashed and the quick thump, thump, thump of the machine gun deafened the rest of the battle. At first, Dumbass didn't hit anything, because the ammunition didn't contain any tracer rounds. Meg hadn't wanted anything catch on fire by accident. Soon enough, the gun began to hit the remaining demons. Even though they were demons, their meats suits were mangled by a caliber that heavy, and many smoked out. Their bodies would have repaired eventually, but they would have been sitting ducks until then. Any other demon that could, were bugging out with their meat suits, as well.
In almost no time, the demons in front of the angel had been all cut down, and the rounds began to find Clarence. Meg had thought there was an outside chance where the gun would injure the angel's vessel enough that she would have a chance to close in and finish the job, but she wasn't counting on that either. For a moment however, she thought the machine gun would actually do the trick. The rounds did only little damage, but the rate of fire was making the overall harm to the angel's vessel tally up. The good news didn't last long. With a surge of power that she could feel from here, Feather's wings blinked into existence. Meg also got a glimpse of his blue eyes burning bright even though the distance was over fifty yards away. An involuntary shutter went down the demon's spine. Then, the wings wrapped in an umbrella in front of him like a shield. Bullets ricochet off the black wings like they were made from tank armor. Meg whistled; she had never seen the cloud hopper do that before.
Without warning, Clarence was no longer where he had been and Meg looked around. He now was in front of Dumbass standing to the side of the machine gun. With little effort on his part, the angel bent the barrel gun virtually 90 degrees downward. The demon gunner threw a left haymaker that barely fazed the angel. Should of ran, she thought. Dumbass really had been a dumbass. The demon screamed as Clarence placed his hand on Dumbass's forehead and burned out his life. By that time, Meg had already lit the holy oil with her zippo.
The fire cascaded down the pattern of oil she had laid out. When it was all lit, the final product resembled a spider web. There were five circles that got consecutively larger all encircling the angel with eight bisecting lines that started from the smallest circle and ended at the largest. Even if Clarence could make it out of the first circle, there were 32 other compartments he would have to make his way out. The angel looked around at the trap, and Meg got to her feet ready for the next phase of their fight.
The angel fixated immediately on her movement. "This will not hold me forever," the angel said calmly.
"It's not supposed to," Meg replied back tapping one end of the spear on her left hand.
Cas saw her spear and nodded. "This fire will damage your vessel as well."
"Remember who you're talking to angel." Meg snorted. "Oh it'll suck, but my meat suit will heal. I am a demon of Hell; I was born of fire!" With her last word, she used her power to stoke the flames for dramatic emphasis. They shot six feet in the air, and as soon as she did it, she released that power immediately.
Shaking her head, Meg held the bridge of her nose, embarrassed. She put out her hand in a stop gesture. "Wow, I'm sorry. I have to apologize. That was really cliché."
"I would say so." Clarence agreed.
"Let's just forget I said and did that," She said.
"Agreed." He said, and Meg nodded grateful.
It was good to know the two of them could be civil while trying to kill each other. With no hesitation, she sprinted towards the angel, hopping over the lines of fire. It singed her pants and burned her legs, but her mind never heeded any of the pain. When Meg was between the first and third circle, she used her momentum to thrust the spear toward the angel. The tree topper used his angelic sword to deflect the blow, sparks flying once again. Her makeshift weapon raced by his head, almost landing a death blow.
She drew back her spear and twirled to swing her spear from right to left at thigh level. The angel countered that move by jumping over the weapon. Making another series of quick jabs, she backed the angel close to the edge of the circle. He glanced backwards when he felt the heat on his right leg. One of her swipes made a gash in his side. Blood and angelic grace poured out from the wound. Swiftly, the angel tried to consider his options. Outside the trap, the angel's powers were significantly diminished, but inside the circle, that was not the case. Feathers lifted and then stamped his right leg on the ground. Behind him, dirt flew up breaking the inner circle.
As the angel retreated into the next compartment, Meg followed hopping to the third circle as she did so. She had hope that Clarence wouldn't have figured out how to escape so quickly, and she needed to keep up the pressure if she was to kill him. Again and again, she would thrust her spear at the angel behind a wall of holy fire until he broke into another compartment at which time she would continue to pursue her opponent. Over and over, they would keep up their deadly dance in the midst of the flames. As metal meet metal, sparks were born and then faded away hastily, their lifespans in a matter of seconds. From heat and exertion, the sweat made her clothes cling to her body's curves. She grew weary, and even the angel seemed to be tiring.
With no concept of how much time had passed, Meg realized she had not landed the decisive blow and was running out of room. With one more concerted effort, she pushed everything she had left into the assault. From the most outer circle, she thought she really had him this time. Her weapon traveled straight towards Clarence's gut. However, the angel snatched the spear from her hands, and Meg ran. It was only a matter of time until the angel was completely free. So, she ran for one of the duffels. Kicking the bag up into her hands, she instantly unzipped it with both her hands. From the bag, the demon stuffed a round vial of blue liquid into her jacket's right inner pocket and then pulled out the assault rifle. When she had turned around, the angel had gained his freedom from the trap and was no more than 10 yards away.
The rifle was an M-4 carbine modified with a 100 round double drum clip and a forehand grip. "Hey, Clarence say hello to my little friend!" Meg couldn't resist using her best Cuban accent.
"I understand that reference." Meg refrained from firing her weapon immediately when he spoke. "I have been viewing television programs." Cas explained.
"Wait, you know De Niro?" Meg asked while lowering her gun slightly.
The tree topper nodded his head eagerly. The gesture reminded Meg of a toddler, excited that they just had learned to use the training potty for the first time, and damn it if she didn't feel a little proud. Not proud enough not to pull the trigger, of course. She raised the gun tight into her shoulder and fired.
These bullets did contain tracer rounds, but not ordinary ones. Most tracers use phosphorus or strontium compounds to make them burn allowing the projectiles' trajectory to be visible to the shooter. This ammunition, however, was filled with holy oil. As the gun powder ignited the projectile, it also set the holy oil to burn. Meg had patted herself on the back for coming up with it. Crowley had got them special made from a U.S. ammunition factory. Thank Lucifer that the King of Hell had so many minions inside the American military industrial complex.
Her aim was off at first, and the bullets continued into the forest behind the angel. Then the rounds began to find their mark. Clarence tried to use the same old trick using his wings as a bullet shield, but after the first tracer hit, that strategy proved useless. Feathers exploded outward, and she heard the cloud hopper cursed in Enochian. Encouraged, Meg held down the trigger, ceasing to fire in control bursts. Her supernatural strength countered the rifle's recoil and kept her aim fairly accurate.
All was going well until she saw the angel clench his fist and gather his power. She had no idea where he had directed his grace; it was only by instinct that she threw away her gun. Almost as soon as she did, the ammunition magazine exploded. Meg covered her face with her to protect herself from the exploding shrapnel. When she lowered her arms, Cas was standing in front of her almost toe to toe.
Alarm overwhelmed her thoughts, and she dug for her spare angelic blade from her jacket. Never had she seen Cas's eyes so tense; they practically glowed sapphire. As she grasped the sword, the angel clamped down on her right bicep and pulled. He ripped her arm from its socket like she had been some toy doll. Through the blinding pain, all she heard was the leather jacket ripping apart and her own scream.
She stepped back from the angel and held her wound with the hand she had left. Most humans would have died from the blood loss from such an injury, but Meg was demon and would survive. Over time she would even grow back the arm. That fact, however, did not keep it from hurting like a bitch. Meg tried to refocus her mind and go back on the offensive, but before she could counterattack, the angel brought his foot down to the side of her knee. Her knee cap shattered and all the ligaments were torn. He didn't even give her time to fall to the ground as he used the butt of his palm to punch Meg in the chest.
The demon flew backwards over ten yards and then sled along the ground half that distance. Stunned, Meg laid prone on her back looking up at the stars. Thoughts raced through her mind as Cas walked in a slow, assured pace to her. How arrogant had she been thinking she could beat the Angel of Thursday. He had taken everything she threw at him and had shrugged it off. Now that she thought about it; Clarence and she had never really fought each other before. In the past, he had either been low on power, in a temporary alliance, or too bat-crazy to kill her.
"Your tactics were most interesting." Clarence said now standing over the fallen demon. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she thought there was amusement in his voice.
"Go fuck yourself." She coughed blood as she tried to speak.
"However, this fight has reached its conclusion." He ignored her.
"Don't be so sure about that, Feathers." With her left hand, she pulled out the vial of liquid she had stashed in her jacket. The heavy glass container contained a blue liquid and it shined florescent in the presence of the angel. Despite the pain, she smiled, first at the vial and then back to the tree topper.
"What is that?" Clarence asked unconcerned.
"You know the demon bombs?" she replied. "Think of that, except for angels." Now the angel displayed apprehension, and his eyes widened as she smashed the phial on the ground. She felt the glass cut her hand, and then the brightest light she had ever known encompassed everything. That was the last she saw of Clarence.
Meg had not wanted to use the angel bomb except as last resort. In her experience, anything powerful enough to kill an angel would kill almost anything else. Crowley had found the recipe in an angel tablet but had never got to test it. The experience had not been pleasant. The light that the bomb exuded had been so intense all she could see was white. She also appeared to have been deafened as well, but there hadn't been a loud explosion or noise of any kind. It was like the bomb had swallowed up all sounds like a vacuum.
Deaf and blind, Meg thought that she might really have died for a minute. Then, she realized her very thought of being dead proved that she was in fact alive. Who knew Descartes had actual real world application? Minutes passed, and soon her vision and hearing came back. She found that she was still lying on her back on the battlefield, and the angel was nowhere in sight.
An orange flickering glow to Meg's right brought her back from her thoughts. Too happy to be alive and distracted from recently transpired events, she hadn't notice that a forest fire was raging. It was modest and small now, but soon it would engulf the forest without intervention. The area hadn't been that dry but it was far from well watered as well. While the angel trap she at set caused the wild grass to catch fire, she was pretty sure that her holy oil rounds were what really started the trees to burn. The oil would burn forever if it wasn't extinguished, and from firsthand knowledge, she knew it burn hot.
Another gust of wind blew from that direction, and ashes began to rain down around her. She couldn't help but wonder if some of it was Cas. Blinded by the angel bomb, she never actually saw how he died. There were no scorch marks in shape of angel wings, the telltale sign of an angel's death. However, much of the ground was already blackened and charred already. Another strong possibility was that there simply was nothing left. Meg hated that idea; she wished she could have gotten a souvenir, no trophy, from the angel, like his trench coat.
With some effort, she forced herself to stop thinking about the deceased cloud hopper. Instead, she contemplated what would happen from here on out. When news of her success reached Crowley, he would move with all the forces he could muster against the Winchester boys. Without their angel, they wouldn't stand a chance. She had effectively ensured the gates would stay open. Yeah for me, she thought bitterly.
As for what she would personally do with her new found freedom, she wasn't really sure. No longer on Crowley's hit list, she could do anything she desired. A lot of that desire was to still kill the smarmy bastard. However, that was a pipe dream she knew, because after all, she had just killed what could have been her only ally. No, she wouldn't go against Crowley, not yet anyway. Maybe she would find the most quiet, peaceful, and happy place on the globe and settle there so she could bring chaos and death to it. That idea had a lot of appeal, and it might just cheer her up.
She tested her leg and found it had been fully healed. Even her right arm had grown back into a short stump. Meg began to walk away from the burnt tree towards the closest major highway where she would hijack someone's car. She didn't bring any of the equipment she had brought in. The demon just started to walk away until she heard a noise. It was the flutter of wings. She stopped in her tracks, and a small grin adorned her face.
"You teleported away at the last second, didn't you?" She asked without even turning around.
"I did." The voice that she thought she had silenced forever confirmed her suspicion.
Meg took another drag from her still lit cigarette before turning to face Clarence. "Props to you. So what happens now?"
The angel took another step toward. "I told you. This fight is over." As soon as he said it, his eyes softened just slightly. "I'm sorry it had to come to this."
"Cram your apology, angel!" Meg spit back her reply. "Cram it wherever your species normally cram things." She gestured to them with her cigarette. "This couldn't have ended any other way."
With that she put her cigarette on his chest. Cas just watched her do it. Over a thousand degrees hot and the pain didn't even register with the angel. It burned through his clothing and then on his skin. The smell of burned flesh wafted through the air. She watched as his healing took a matter of seconds. First the burn turned a bright red, blistered, and smooth back to unblemished skin. Meg rubbed her hand where the burn had shortly been, feeling his chest.
They gazed at one another, and then Cas agreed. "You're probably right, no other way it could end." He nodded.
As he was on his downward nod, Meg head butted the angel without warning, shattering his nose. Clarence staggered back a few paces, and Meg tried to throw some punches. Did he really think she would just give up, because he said the fight was over? She tried to dish out some kicks to his midsection. However, whatever she tried to do, he either blocked, or the blow landed without any force behind it. The strength and speed she had exhibited during the battle had been usurped by exhaustion.
With only one move, Cas grabbed Meg by arm and her shirt, slamming her to the ground. Then he fell on top of her where his left knee pinned her across her hip, and his right landed on top of her left arm.
"I said this was over." There was finality in his voice now.
Meg knew he was right, but damn her if she admit it. "Shit!" She cried out. After she gave up whatever struggle she could manage, she yelled at the angel once more. "Well, what are you waiting for? I don't have all day."
He was staring at her in that way that gave her feelings of which she had no idea how to deal with. "I wanted to say that I truly am grateful for when you took care of me in the hospitable." Meg swallowed when she hear him utter those words. Enough of this mushy shit, she thought.
"Grateful enough to let me go?" She gave Clarence her best salacious smile.
"No, you would only attempt this again. You might even try to kill the Winchesters," he replied back simply.
"You goddamn right I would." She boasted proudly. Cas sighed at the blasphemy. She knew he knew that she said it only to get under his skin.
"You are irritating to the end."
"You like it." Cas didn't reply back to that except with a small smile crept on to his emotionless features.
"But hey before you kill me, how about this as a final request?" Before Feathers could ask what it was, she grabbed his tie and pulled him down into a violent, hungry kiss. If this was going to be the end of her line, then by all that was unholy she would get one last taste of the angel's tongue. Although caught by surprise, Cas didn't hesitate; he returned her kiss with equal abandonment. That almost forgotten and electrifying sensation as her demonic aura met his angelic grace now spilled into her very core. Meg had never got to enter heaven as Lucifer had promised, but this was close enough. No, it was more than enough.
After a couple of minutes, she ended the kiss by letting go of his tie and letting her head drop back to the ground. Now she was ready as ever would be to meet her fate.
"Goodbye, Clarence." Her tone contained no hint of malice or indignation nor was it regretful or pained. It was serene and resigned, and her patented mischievous grin came back to her face. She realized then that never once had she used his real name, and she never would. For that matter, neither would him with her true name.
"Goodbye, Meg." His voice did hold a measure of remorse, but it was equally determined.
The angel's powerful hand approached her face, but he didn't slam his palm down on her forehead as he had done with countless other demons before her. Instead, he caressed the side of her face, tucking her hair behind her ear. The gesture was oddly very affectionate. Meg snorted. The angel would be gentle with her now as he was about to snuff out her very being.
Most demons screamed, gasped, or convulsed in pain when they got smote. That would not be how she faced her final end. If it was the last thing she would ever do, which it would be, she resolved not to make one twitch or utter one sound, no matter what. So, even as her insides began to boil and all the molecules of her soul were burned into nothing, she never once flinched or made so much as a whimper. Meg only stared up at the angel until the very end. That wolfish smile of hers stayed firmly planted on her face even while divine light poured from her eyes and mouth.
Why hadn't she just let herself scream out or show any sign of the horrible pain she was in? Dead was dead, what would it matter? Maybe a fraction of her wanted to spare Clarence from having his last memory of her being one where she was writhing in absolute agony. Maybe. Mostly though, it had been her final act of defiance, and it had been a fitting end for the demon known as Meg.
Hey thinks for reading this. If you like it gives me a review. If you thought it was shitty, give me a review and tell me why this was a turd. The biggest problem I had with the story was being consistent with the point of view. It's supposed to be limited 3rd person from Meg's point of view. Thanks I hope you enjoyed.