(no subject)
Mar. 16th, 2011 02:00 pmSitting in a throne in the underworld, there was a being who was known as the king of the west wind. His hair was fire, and his ferocity was known all over the fertile crescent. As was his charity. Pazuzu was the demon which all demons feared, and the god which all gods despised. He had been one of the first true children of the elements, born of the sands of the western deserts and a wildfire gone out of control.
And he was quite proud of the fact.
He had a half-sister, Lamashtu. Lamashtu had also been born of raging fire, but her father, Anu, god of the gentle east wind, cared little for her. She was a furious, maddening creature, who did as she willed, and her will was terrifying. She saw humanity as cattle, and fed upon them as such. When Lamashtu was slighted, she took it out not on the individual, but all humans within the range of her powers, giving them great illness, pestilence beyond reckoning.
No, Pazuzu didn't enjoy that at all. For all that he did to be seen as a demon, he did not appreciate Lamashtu's behavior. So he moved to thwart her as she went along.
It was like that for many hundreds of years. Where Lamashtu traveled, ahead of her, Pazuzu stood at guard to protect the humans who were most likely to be harmed - babies, and mothers-to-be.
One night, after he forcibly removed her from the home of a sleeping infant and their mother, he pushed her into the dirt. "We're seen so often together," he hissed, his eyes narrow as his fiery hair danced at his back and shoulders, "that they're starting to call us wed! I only have you to blame." He hoisted her up by her neck and shoved her against the wall. She bared her small, sharp teeth at him, laughing in his face.
"You say that so angrily, brother dear," her tone reminded him of curdled, soured milk, "it as if you desire it to be so." She reached down to run her sharp nails over his inner thigh. He gripped her throat tighter and stood closer to her, over her terrifying form. "Do not tempt me to consummate that," Pazuzu growled, kicking her legs apart, his scorpionlike tail lashing behind him. "I very well will." With that, he transported them both immediately to his home in the underworld, and laid her down on the pile of furs and woven blankets that he often took women, simply to bed them. And for once, in Lamashtu's miserable existence, she was as gentle as a dove, and receptive to each touch and desire he put into her mind.
It lasted for hours, coupling with the witch, the demonic cunt whose only desire was to destroy humanity. He broke her body in the best of ways, and broke her will easily. Once he was sure that she was exhausted, he let her rest in the blankets and cushions, watched the ugly creature sleep. Pazuzu stood and slipped off silently, making no sound as he left her buried in the furs. And when he returned, sword in hand, she was still there.
He brought his great sword above his head, and with a swift motion down, he beheaded Lamashtu, before setting her body, blood, head, and all that still existed of her in a pyre that burnt the sky itself. He made certain that not a single piece of her, body or soul, continued to exist, in the world of mortals, and the dank underworld in which he lived. Despite feeling confident that he did a good job of it, Pazuzu continued protecting the women and babies, giving them both blessings throughout the fertile crescent. He spoke nothing of the fact that his sister would no longer attempt to eat the children, or make entire cities fall ill.
And he was quite proud of the fact.
He had a half-sister, Lamashtu. Lamashtu had also been born of raging fire, but her father, Anu, god of the gentle east wind, cared little for her. She was a furious, maddening creature, who did as she willed, and her will was terrifying. She saw humanity as cattle, and fed upon them as such. When Lamashtu was slighted, she took it out not on the individual, but all humans within the range of her powers, giving them great illness, pestilence beyond reckoning.
No, Pazuzu didn't enjoy that at all. For all that he did to be seen as a demon, he did not appreciate Lamashtu's behavior. So he moved to thwart her as she went along.
It was like that for many hundreds of years. Where Lamashtu traveled, ahead of her, Pazuzu stood at guard to protect the humans who were most likely to be harmed - babies, and mothers-to-be.
One night, after he forcibly removed her from the home of a sleeping infant and their mother, he pushed her into the dirt. "We're seen so often together," he hissed, his eyes narrow as his fiery hair danced at his back and shoulders, "that they're starting to call us wed! I only have you to blame." He hoisted her up by her neck and shoved her against the wall. She bared her small, sharp teeth at him, laughing in his face.
"You say that so angrily, brother dear," her tone reminded him of curdled, soured milk, "it as if you desire it to be so." She reached down to run her sharp nails over his inner thigh. He gripped her throat tighter and stood closer to her, over her terrifying form. "Do not tempt me to consummate that," Pazuzu growled, kicking her legs apart, his scorpionlike tail lashing behind him. "I very well will." With that, he transported them both immediately to his home in the underworld, and laid her down on the pile of furs and woven blankets that he often took women, simply to bed them. And for once, in Lamashtu's miserable existence, she was as gentle as a dove, and receptive to each touch and desire he put into her mind.
It lasted for hours, coupling with the witch, the demonic cunt whose only desire was to destroy humanity. He broke her body in the best of ways, and broke her will easily. Once he was sure that she was exhausted, he let her rest in the blankets and cushions, watched the ugly creature sleep. Pazuzu stood and slipped off silently, making no sound as he left her buried in the furs. And when he returned, sword in hand, she was still there.
He brought his great sword above his head, and with a swift motion down, he beheaded Lamashtu, before setting her body, blood, head, and all that still existed of her in a pyre that burnt the sky itself. He made certain that not a single piece of her, body or soul, continued to exist, in the world of mortals, and the dank underworld in which he lived. Despite feeling confident that he did a good job of it, Pazuzu continued protecting the women and babies, giving them both blessings throughout the fertile crescent. He spoke nothing of the fact that his sister would no longer attempt to eat the children, or make entire cities fall ill.