pentagram perfect

The Antichrist

I’m back for real!!!!!!! love u babes

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: mentions of satanic stuff (?), torture


Since the day you were born, no one has ever wanted to have anything to do with you. Your mother gave birth to you at her old house, but she didn’t keep you for too long. When she was able to move properly, she grab you and took you to the door of the closest orphanage, she rang the bell and left you in front of the big doors. The teacher who found you, Mrs. Clark, said she never get to see your mom’s face. At first, they treated you like a common baby, they made all the tests that were necessary to make sure you were okay, they fed you, bathed you and gave love to you.

That was until something strange happened.

On the sixth day since your arrival at the orphanage, a mark appeared on your left wrist. It looked like a bunch of lines that crossed each other and when Mrs. Clark saw them, she tried to wash it out, but it just wouldn’t go away. She commented it with the rest of the staff, and they started to get scared of you. Soon, they would only get close to you when it was a hundred per cent necessary. Six days after that, more lines appeared magically on the same wrist. They formed an upside down star. The teachers started mumbling things and rumors started spreading on the orphanage about “the cursed baby”. Six more days after that, a circle appeared on your wrist, circling the star, making a perfect pentagram. At six in the morning, one of the teachers, Mrs. Shelley, came to check up on you. Scared, she look at your wrist and her eyes filled with tears.

“The antichrist…” It came out as a mumble, but in the moment that she said it, your eyes turned red, glowing in the dark, and you let out a deathly scream that make Mrs. Shelley scream back and ran away from your room.

After that, they locked you up on the basement. They tortured you, they even cut the skin on your left wrist, but it was impossible to get rid of the mark. In minutes, your skin would regenerate, with the satanic symbol on it, of course.


After years and years of torture, you have come to hate every single person on the orphanage. You don’t know anything about you, just that they call you “The antichrist” or “The Devil”. The only person that comes into your room are the teachers, normally it’s Mrs. Clark. She always throws holy water at you, making your skin burn. The holy water, the steel chains and all the crucifixes and christian symbols painted on the four walls that are your room are the things that keep your powers controlled. You know you are a supernatural creature, and you know that if they let you go, you could destroy everything. That’s probably why they keep you on the basement. Everyday, you close your eyes and wish for this orphanage to be closed. It’s not a nice place. They experiment with the little kids, you know it because you can hear the screams every night.

Mrs. Clark enters your room quietly. She has grown old, the sides of her eyes full of wrinkles. Her lips are in a thin line, you never have seen her smile. She’s carrying a bucket made of argent with a little stick on it. You know that’s the holy water.

“Good evening, miss.”  Mrs. Clark voice is monotone, as usual.

“Enjoy while you can, because you are going to die soon and then, you will rot in hell for an eternity.”

This is the only conversation you have with her. It’s always the same sentences. She salutes you, you tell her to rot in hell, she looks at you with scared eyes and she starts throwing the holy water at you. But today is different, she kneels in front of you and starts praying with a gold rosary that she only wears once a week, on sundays. She speaks in Latin and then she says the same prayer in English. You snort once in a while, but she doesn’t stop. When she is done, she starts spraying the holy water towards your body and you scream in pain, the skin of your body turning red and burning, little clouds of smoke leaving it. She takes her time on the mark on your left wrist, rubbing it with the holy water, making sure it burns. After what feels like hours, she stops and puts rosaries on the chains holding your hands and feet, making you look like a star. She does the sign of the cross and leaves your room. Your skin is red and your head is hanging low. You bit your lip and look at the mark on your left wrist, it’s still there.


A loud sound startles you and you look around. The room is dark, but you know that there is no one here. Another sound makes you feel more nervous. The orphanage is not a problematic place, every kid behaves good because if they don’t, they know they will be punished. The sounds don’t stop, and they are getting closer and closer to your room. You start wiggling in your chains, trying to break free, but it seems impossible. Suddenly, the door of your room bursts open and someone opens the little light that hangs from the roof. You squeeze your eyes and when you can finally adjust to the light, you see two enormous man staring at you in shock. One of them is wearing a blue, white and red suit with a helmet with a big A on. The other is all dressed in black and you curiously look at his left arm. You’d swear it’s made of metal. You are ready to let out one of your sarcastic remarks, but then you see the look on their faces. They are not scared of you, it’s like they feel pity. The idea disgusts you at first, but then you realize that this may be your chance to scape this place.

“Please, help me! They’ve got me locked in here! They barely feed me!” You let out some tears and pout your lips, giving them your best performance.

Both of the man run to you and start breaking the chains. The one with the helmet looks at you sympathetically.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, calm down. I’m Steve, this right here is Bucky. We are here to save you, don’t worry.”

You bit your lip, suppressing the desire to laugh at his words and just nod at him. When they finally set you free, you dramatically fall downwards, but the man who you believe is called Bucky catches you just in time. His arms are around your waist and you close your eyes and your hands at the same time. You can feel the cool of his metal hand through your thin and dirty white dress, and you shut your eyes tighter, trying to concentrate yourself. Soon, everything in the room starts shaking, and the super soldiers look at each other, not knowing what is going on. You step out of Bucky’s hands and turn around to face them. When you open your eyes, you know they are glowing red, because both of them take one step backwards, their faces full of surprise.

You give them a smirk and then you disappear leaving behind a cloud of black smoke.


THIRD PERSON POV

Steve and Bucky look at each other. The blonde super soldier has his lips slightly parted, his brain unable to process what just happened. This girl seemed so little and so weak just thirty seconds ago, turned out it was all an act.

“What just happened?” Bucky looks at his friend searching for answers.

“I have no idea. I thought we were here to shut down this orphanage. We knew they were working with Hydra, but this…”

“This was not Hydra. Steve, this girl didn’t scape us because she was scared. You saw her eyes, her smile!” Bucky runs his right hand through his hair. “And that black smoke… Too dramatic to be Hydra.”

“I know.” Steve presses his index finger into his com. “Guys, come to the basement. We have a problem.”


After some minutes, the rest of The Avengers are in the tiny room next to Steve and Bucky. Cap is explaining what went on just minutes ago when a bunch of armed man enter the building. The team gets ready to fight whoever this guys are, until they see Nick Fury.

“Fury” Tony looks at him with his brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought you left Shield?” Sam looks at Fury and then at Steve.

“I did.” Nick looks at the team. “But then I heard about this girl you just set free.” He points at Steve and Bucky.

“We thought she was a victim of Hydra.” Steve rubs his forehead and sighs.

“You should have thought better.” Fury looks at the two super soldiers, an angry expression on his face.

“Wait, if she’s not one of us, but she’s not Hydra either, what the hell is she?” Natasha looks at Fury waiting for an answer.

“Long story short, she is the antichrist. And you just liberated her.”

He gets Clary to sketch out a perfect pentagram onto the loft’s floor.

Jace and Isabelle are sitting cross legged on the floor, faces unreadable. He aches to join siblings but he can’t think about that now. This has to be perfect.

Isabelle and Jace are flipping through old dusty books, their faces illuminated by candel light.

They look like Angels. His heart aches for them. They were bound to him, as he was to Magnus.

Angels weren’t supposed to play God. He lights one of the many candles at his side.

He looks back over at Clary who’s moved on from sketching and is painting the floor in quick precise movements. The line of her mouth is hard and she looks as tired him. The blood is thick and warm on her brush.

Simon, as always, was by her side, staring at the blood in a sort of awe. Clary whips the excess down her shirt, looking ill. All that had been inside her. And Jace, too.

She’s been as eager as him with her own research and preparation. She’d known Magnus as long as she’d lived and her memories had returned alarmingly fast after Magnus’ death.

His throat closes up and he reminds himself to stay focused. Best case death was nothing more than a state of mind and Magnus would be with him again before dawn. And worst case…No. Alec wouldn’t take no for an answer. It didn’t matter the price. He’d find a way to pay it.

Isabelle and Jace started moving the unlit candles, placing them outside the pentagram. They loved him, Alec realized, mouth dry, enough to damn themselves.

They all hold hands as Alec starts to chant, more out of a desire for closeness than any spell.

“ cubavit lamia et victima superstes tuae fructus, voco. Omnes matris nomine appellemus.” He stops for a breath.

The windows rattle and Alec fears they’ll shatter. Not enough to stop though. This apartment could level and it wouldn’t be a reason to stop. Damn the street, damn the world, damn himself. He’ll choose Magnus every day. He didn’t have a choice.

“ Lamia mea, nos vocant. Nos te ab vacuum. In die qua invocaverimus te mihi egredietur.” He sounds braver than he feels.

One of the windows cracks down the middle. Jace stiffens and reaches for his seraph blade, stopping when he catches Alec’s warning look. He joins his hands back with Isabelle and Clary and says nothing.

Simon shoots him a look that Alec pointedly ignores. He didn’t get it. Only Clary did. The pain of death and it’s permanence. Well, permanent until it wasn’t.

“ Nos petere ut det. Sanguinem nostrum violentorum Angelorum. rogamus vos. Potentiam tuam, et turbavit animum. Adiuva nos Lamia.”

Apparently, he said something right. The woman who appears is vaguely translucent and sharp. Her hair was dark and hung down to her waist.

Her snake eyes narrowed as they turned to Jace.

“Who do you think you are summoning me?”

“He didn’t. I did. And that means this has nothing to do with Jace or any of my friends. Just me.”

Lilith purred. “Oh you doubteless repellent brat, the company you keep has everything to do with our transaction. Why would I help the man child who damned my son?”

“We’re not here to talk about Sebastian.” Not when Alec was this close.

“Then what,” she drawls, “are we here to talk about? Trading tips on how to kill demons?”

“I want something.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Hey now” Izzy growls, looking nearly ready to join Lilith in the Pentagram. Simon grips her shoulder, trying to ground her. Her skin burns.

“What do you need that your angels can’t give you? Have they finally turn their backs on the Nephilim?” Her laugh echos, like glass splintering. “But they gave you blood. What are you asking for,” she asks, “that they’d let you summon me?”

Alec swallowed.

“The blood doesn’t matter. It Is Angel and brought you here.”

It was angel, to a certain degree. As angel as Jace and Clary were.

“Have you finally stopped galavanting off with downworlders? Chose to rebel with a higher power?”

Alec tightned his fist in his jeans.

“We have something you want.”

“A new body? My son? You have nothing, for you have taken and destroyed everything I wanted.”

“We have information.”

“Do not get cocky, shadowhunter. You are the Angel’s pet project while I am a greater demon.”

“We do. Asmdeous is waiting for you in Edom. He thinks of you fondly, as Edom’s princess. He says you will always have a place there, at his side.”

“You think this new information? Shadowhunter, you have disappointed me more than I thought possible. I am almost impressed. We are done.”

“No.” Alec said, voice steel. “You are stuck here until I dismiss you. We don’t have anywhere to be and every place in Brooklyn delivers. You’re stuck in the void. Edom’s borders are sealed. What if we could get you home?”

Lilith rolled her eyes.

“You Nephilim got another trait from the Angels. False promises. You cannot take me to Edom anymore than I take you to the void.”

“That’s where you’re wrong though,” Clary interupts, walking over to Lilith.

“I make portals. I make runes. Edom might be sealed to Earth, but not to other dimensions, one small detour and boom. Help my friend, and I can get you to Edom.”

“You are confident little girl, to claim to speak the language of heaven.”

Clary’s eyes flashed.

“Maybe,” she says, her voice light, “you didn’t the memo. My name isn’t little girl.”

Lilith turns to Alec.

“This girl is your arrow? I was wrong to believe The promises of the Nephilim.”

Clary bristles.

“I don’t have to be kind. I could take you some place else or drop another in your place. I doubt Asmodeous to be so picky in princessess.”

She points her steele like a weapon. You have a dark heart, Valentine’s daughter. Thus is to tyrants? Thus is to those backed in a corner.

Lilith’s face relaxes and a smile stretches across her face. It’s more frightening then her glare.

“What would you want in return? Wait, I know Nephilim. Let me guess. World Peace?”

“I don’t want to world. I want Magnus Bane.”

Her smile fills his mouth with ashes.

Izzy and Lilith trade hard stares. They’ve reached an impasse. Lilith refuses to bring back Magnus until her feet touch Edom’s waste. Izzy refuses “to see a reason not to rip those snakes from her eyes.”

“If she wants to keep them, she’ll bring Magnus back. It’s motivation.”

The candles flicker and the shadows cut out any innocence from her. She is cold and her ice will set you ablaze.

She had grieved Magnus, they all had, but not like Alec or Clary. In truth, she was mourning her brother. A part of him had died with Magnus. And Raziel forgive her, she will tear the heart out of anyone and eat it before they stop her from helping Alec.

Her whip curled at her side, almost incandescent.

Lilith turned to Simon.

“Before you do something you’ll regret, Isabelle Lightwood, are you sure this is what you want?”

“You’re here to help Alec.”

“It is always about Alec, isn’t it? What about you? You’ve lost so much. The man you love looks at you like a stranger. You could get that back. The way he used to look at you. You’d fix it, fix him.”

Isabelle shook. “Simon’s fine! And, pray tell, what would you know about love?”

“I know it goes hand in hand with loss. Not just his memories. You’ve lost your brother. Max. I could just as easily bring him back. Magnus Bane lived for over 400 years. Max got …what was it?”

Tears ran down Isabelle’s face.
“N-Nine.” She chocked out, trembling.

“He’ll always be nine.”

Simon stepped between her and the demon.

“Stop! Stop talking to her, stop looking at her- ”

“You wish to make a deal instead?”

“Thats enough!” Jace’s voice echoed throughout the loft.

“You made a deal with my brother for Magnus Bane. We will transport you to Edom.”

He toed the line of the pentagram, seraph blade raised.

He whispered “Raphael” and the blue light shone on Lilith’s face.

“You will not,” he seethed, “make my sister cry. Or I will follow you to Edom and you will have another war. You already lost a son.”

For once Lilith fell silent. Simon had wrapped his arms around Isabelle and the sound of her whispering “9” was all that could be heard.

Lilith turned to Alec.

“I truly hate you all.” Her eyes glowed and magic poured out of the snakes.

“ Ego sum Lamia et Flectamus genua. Caeli et terrae adorabunt me, ante omnes matri cedere ante infernum. Cum filiis dico. Bane magnus ego convocabo. Damnaturus Angels.Damn leges. Ego mater tu!”

White light fills the apartment and Alec winced, looking for Isabelle and Jace through the nearly blindly light.

Lilith lay, crouched in the pentagram, a light sheen of sweat above her brow.

“Brace yourself” she calls and then it happens.

The floor quakes and the candles go out. Alec reaches out to steady Jace, who’s already got his blades out and named. They glow bright in the now completely dark room.

“Careful!” He shouts, blinking as Isabelle’s whip extends and lights up the room.

“What’s going on?” Simon yelled.

Lilith grins. “Nothing you didn’t ask for.”

A floor cracks open and Alec peers into it. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t reveal the apartment underneath them. Just…Nothing.

He feels himself being tugged back and turns, coming face to face with Isabelle.

Clary held her witchlight high, lighting up each darkened corner.

“What’s that?” Simon shrieked, gripping Isabelle’s hand.

Something was crawling out of the crack. A man. Alec’s heart lept. He broke from the group and ran towards Magnus.

“Alec!”

He falls to his knees and half dragged Magnus out.

He was naked and covered in ash. His cat eyes nearly glowed in the darkness.

“Alec?” He mummbled dazed, eyes fluttering.

Alec’s heart ached. He hadn’t been there when Magnus died, had been on patrol with Jace. Maia was right. You don’t feel it.

Alec held Magnus tight, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have been there. I’m sorry.”
Magnus frowned, tangeling his fingers in The hair at the base of Alec’s neck.

“What? Alec why are you crying?” He turns to Lilith and groans.

“Lilith? Why is my Alec crying? Why are you all in my house?”

Clary was crying now, too. She rushed to his side, falling near the tangled mess of Alec and Magnus.

“I missed you,” she says, rubbing her eyes.

“And I’d hug you, but you’re naked and Alec would kill me”

Magnus turned to her.

“Biscut, I need you to tell me what happened. Why Lilith’s here and why Alec can’t stop crying.”

“Actually, biscuit, what you need to do is portal me to my husband.”

Magnus looked at Alec, who had stopped sobbing with horror.

“What,” he said slowly, “did you do?”
Clary grabs her steele and starts drawing, taking pleasure in the interconnected design of the portal rune.

Isabelle kneels down by the edge of the pentagram, her knife unsheathed.

The rune glows white and The portal opens, the new deminsion bright red and green.

“To here and then Edom. No funny business.”

“None. I gave you your warlock didn’t I? Have some good faith”

Isabelle slices a line of Pentagram and Lilith steps out, the air shivering.

She steps into the portal, turning back to the nephilim one last time.

“It was awful meeting all of you. Good luck with Champagne Enema, Simon. I support any band attempting to drive children to madness.”

Clary follows her and it closes behind them, missing Simon’s shout of “We’re not called that anymore! No we’re teenage amnesiac vampire!”

Jace frowned. “You got her, man. Real burn.”

Isabelle frowned. “Clary told us it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Magnus cleared his throat.

“Lets use those ten minutes to explain every thing to the man who crawled himself out of hell?”

Lilith grins, eyeing Clary as she opened the next portal.

“You don’t have to go back, you know. Johnathan might be dead but you could rule in Edom.”

Clary rolled her eyes.

“No thanks. I think I’m good.”

“Are you though? You have a dark heart. You think tonight’s actions have cleaned it up? You and your friends are dark. You play a dangerous game, tipping the scales. There are rules. You are rebellious angels. You know what happens to rebellious angels, Clarissa.”

Clary swallows and remembers Valentine and Sebastian. Thus always to tyrants…were they the heroes of today? Did they invoke something higher then them?

“Go find Asmodeous, Lilith.”

She disappeared into The portal and Clary finds herself back in Magnus’ apartment.

Magnus is dressed now, still covered in ash.

Alec’s wrapped around him, his nails digging into his shoulders.

“I missed you” she says and he takes her hand and pets it.

“Did Lilith say anything? Anything at all Clary?”

That we’re on a dark path. One of hubris and rebellion. That we’ll fall like Lucifer and it’s a sight she wished she could see for herself.

“Nothing important.”

The sun rises above the river and shines through Magnus’ loft.

Simon grips Isabelle’s hand laughs.

“Look, the world didn’t stop turning. The horses aren’t eating each other. I guess we worried for nothing.”

Yes, Clary thinks, nothing at all. She’d make sure of it.

Alec grips Magnus tight and the color bleeds back into the world.

“I thought I lost you.”

“You did, Alec. I was dead. Just like Jace. We messed with The scales, Alec.”

“I don’t care. I’ll fight whatever comes. Whether its the clave or a horde of demons. I thought I lost you.”

“You did. But you brought me back.”

“I’ll always bring you back.”

“The perfect human can neither be grasped nor seen. What is seen can be grasped. No one can obtain this grace without putting on perfect light and becoming perfect light. Whoever puts on light will enter the place of rest. This is perfect light, and we must become perfect humans before we leave the world. Whoever obtains everything but does not separate from this world will not be able to attain that realm but will go to the middle place, for that one is not perfect.”

Gospel of Philip