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bring before you Joth of the lesser elohim, for you to welcome as your nature
commands. Let the Harrowing begin."
A mixture of growls and coarse laughter arose from the assembly. Meresin
glanced at Joth, who was standing beside him, its attention once more fixed on
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the crystal chandelier dangling over its head. The daemon then glanced at the
tip of the cigarette it held between index and middle fingers, causing it to
ignite.
Joth was still smiling up at the chandelier, oblivious to the danger it was
in, as the group moved forward, forming a tight circle around the captive
angel. Meresin stood apart from the Harrowing and silently watched while
smoking his black cigarettes.
"Milord, why aren't you taking part?" asked one of the witches, clearly
baffled by the arch-daemon's behavior.
Meresin rolled his eyes. Warlocks and witches always felt it necessary to
address him as `milord' or `your satanic majesty.'
"It is enough that I brought the angel here," he replied. "My work is done."
The Harrowing began tenuously; at first all they did was push and poke at the
elohim. When it became obvious the angel was incapable of physically defending
itself, the group became more aggressive, tearing at its clothes until the
elohim's hated form was fully revealed.
An imp with shaggy legs and corkscrew horns fluttered forward and spat on
Joth, its fluorescent green saliva striking the angel full in the face. A
pig--snouted daemon with curving boar tusks muscled its way forward and with a
squeal of devilish glee, cut loose with a stream of scalding piss that struck
the elohim square in the chest.
But it wasn't until an oni the color of boiled shrimp boldly jumped forward
and snatched free a handful of feathers, that the angel finally flapped its
wings in a belated attempt to escape, but there were too many hands holding it
down.
A daemon with the head of a three-horned black goat roughly caressed its
prodigious member to erection while laughing at the angel's attempts to free
itself.
"What's the matter, elohim?" taunted the goat-headed daemon. "Is our company
not to your taste?" The daemon's laughter dissolved into raucous bleating as
semen shot from its arm-sized penis like water from a fire-hose. Joth coughed
and spat as the vile green mess splashed its face.
The daemons' screams of delight grew louder and wilder as they continued to
pummel and insult the helpless angel. They struck it with clenched fists,
kicked it with hooves and feet, butted it with their heads, pinched it with
their talons, yanked on its hair, pulled out its feathers. They spun it around
and around and pushed it back and forth as if playing a vicious game of Blind
Man's Bluff. They even knocked it to the ground and dragged it across the
floor by its heels. Whichever way Joth attempted to dodge or run, the daemons
and their attendants blocked its way. Their twisted features filled its
vision, their shrieks and brays of laughter stuffed its ears.
Joth tried to shelter itself with its wings, but it was no use. There were too
many of them. Joth had battled imps while on Repair patrol, but always in the
company of a squadron of fellow elohim. And then the imperative was not to
protect itself, but to protect the Clockwork. Confused, frightened and
surrounded by its enemy and unable to escape, Joth cried out for deliverance
with a piercing cry like that of an eaglet calling to its parents for help.
Nybbas, clamped its hands over its ears and grimaced. "It's calling the Host!
Silence it! Shut it up before it's too late!" shrieked the imp.
One of the warlocks, driven wild by the frenzy, grabbed an empty beer bottle
from the bar and smashed it against the foot-rail. Shrieking maniacally, he
lunged at Joth, slashing the angel's throat from ear to ear.
There was a hideous wail-horrible beyond all comprehension-but it did not come
from Joth.
"You idiot!" Gaki screamed at the bottle-wielding warlock. "You've ruined
everything!" The oni's mouth opened wide enough to swallow a basketball and
bit the warlock's head off at the neck, leaving the body to drop onto the
floor.
The pig-snouted daemon shrieked in pain as it staggered past Meresin, its eyes
and upper torso smoldering as if doused with vitriol. The sephiroth sighed and
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