Sinful Obsession

47. 47 - Lilith

47 - Lilith

T he world burns around us, a symphony of chaos and despair. The fires stretch into the sky, black clouds of smoke billowing above cities that once stood proud, now reduced to smoldering ruins. The screams of the broken and dying fill the air, a melody that is sweet and haunting. I stand at the center of it all, my eyes wide with the thrill of it. My heart beats to the rhythm of destruction. Asmodeus stands beside me, his presence a steadying force in the midst of the madness.

He looks at me, his dark eyes full of understanding, full of something more. His hand rests gently on the curve of my waist, and for a moment, I feel the weight of everything that has led us here. This is what we’ve always been destined for. The end. And then the beginning again.

“We have done it, my queen,” Asmodeus says, his voice low, a growl in the back of his throat. His words are both a celebration and a warning. He speaks not just of the devastation around us, but of something far older, something we both understand deep in our bones. The weight of eternity.

“I know,” I reply, my voice thick with satisfaction. I look around at the devastation, feeling the power surge in my veins, the feeling of the world unraveling beneath my feet. I am the queen of this chaos, the one who set it all into motion. I will watch it burn until nothing is left.

But Asmodeus’ gaze is fixed on something else. His eyes narrow as he watches the distant sky, the horizon where the celestial bodies still hang, taunting us with their glimmers of light. “It will not last forever, you know. Even as we destroy, the angels will rebuild. They always do.”

I turn to him, intrigued by the bitterness in his voice. "Rebuild? Do you think they will rise again, just like before?"

He gives a quiet, dark chuckle, the sound low and dangerous. “Of course they will. The cycle never ends. Heaven and Hell, creation and destruction. It’s the dance of eternity, Lilith. One cannot exist without the other. For every moment of ruin, there will be another moment of rebirth.”

I study him, intrigued by his words. He says them with such finality, as though he understands the depths of the universe’s design in ways I have yet to comprehend. His words speak of an inevitability, of a constant back-and-forth that will never end. His hand tightens slightly on my waist, the touch possessive, grounding me in the chaos that surrounds us.

“And you are content with that?” I ask, my voice laced with something darker now. “Content with this endless cycle of destruction?”

He smiles, but it’s not the gentle smile I’m used to. It’s something far colder. “Content? I don’t need contentment, Lilith. I am eternal. I exist beyond the need for peace, for rest, for joy. I am the embodiment of chaos, of corruption. The angels, the gods—they cannot destroy us. Not really. We will always return, always spread our darkness across the world. And when we do, it will be more glorious than before. We are the inevitable consequence of existence.”

I feel something stir inside me at his words. I am like him now—immortal, bound by nothing but the will to destroy. I do not need to be content. I don’t need anything but this power, this reign over the world that I have now. The pride I feel swells in my chest, and I turn back to the destruction, watching the fires rage as if it’s a beautiful thing.

“And when the world falls apart again?” I ask softly. “When the angels rebuild, what then? Will we have to do it all over again?”

Asmodeus steps forward, his form towering and dark against the glowing fires. His eyes gleam with a ferocity that matches my own. “Always,” he says, voice low, like a promise. “We will always return. We are the darkness that gives shape to the light. The end and the beginning. And together, we will never stop.”

His words echo in my mind, and something inside me responds. I have never been more alive than I am now, standing here with him, watching the world fall apart. It doesn’t matter that the angels will rebuild. It doesn’t matter that there will be other cycles of destruction. I have tasted power, tasted darkness, and now I am bound to it. There is no going back.

“I want them to suffer,” I say, my voice icy with finality. “Vienna’s parents. I want them to feel everything they made her feel. The agony, the helplessness. Let them scream for mercy, but never receive it.”

Asmodeus looks at me, his eyes dark with approval. “Done,” he says. “Their suffering will be as endless as the cycle itself. We will make them feel the weight of eternity, of every moment they took from you. They will beg. They will plead. And they will never escape.”

A dark smile twists my lips. This is what I was born for. This is my purpose—my destiny. I am Lilith, the queen of Hell, the one who was cast aside, only to rise again and bring ruin to all. And with Asmodeus by my side, we will bring about the end of everything.

“The cycle never ends, does it?” I murmur, more to myself than to him.

“No,” Asmodeus replies, his voice soft now, almost tender. “It never does. But with you, my love, we will make it ours. We will shape it to our will.”

I feel the weight of his words settle on me like a cloak, wrapping me in something dark and eternal. I am his, and he is mine. And together, we will create and destroy, over and over again.

The world around us continues to burn, but it’s not just destruction I feel now. It’s creation, too. Every moment of violence, every scream, every death—they are all part of a new beginning. I see it now, as if the cycle of creation and destruction is a dance, a never-ending waltz that we are destined to lead. We are the darkness that makes the light shine brighter, the end that brings about the new beginning.

And I embrace it.

I turn my gaze back to the sky, watching as the heavens themselves begin to crack, the stars dimming beneath the weight of our power. The angels will come again, I know. They will rebuild, they will fight, and they will be driven by a need to stop us. But they will fail. They always do.

With a smile, I close my eyes and let myself feel it—the power, the destruction, the eternal cycle that we are bound to. I feel no fear, no doubt, only a sense of purpose. This is what we were born to do. This is why we exist.

Asmodeus’ hand tightens around mine, and I feel the heat of his touch, the warmth of his love. His presence fills me with a sense of fulfillment, a sense of completion. We are one, bound by our love, our power, and our destruction.

“We will never stop,” I whisper. “Together, we will never stop.”

And as we stand there, watching the world burn and knowing that it will rise again only to fall once more, I know one thing for sure: The cycle will continue. But it will always be in our hands.

The end is just the beginning, and we are the ones who will shape it.