Elizabeth stood, watching from afar behind a concrete wall. Michael made his way up to the stake. It was obvious what was happening when he put his hand to one of the charred bodies, then jumped back. He saw the vision of Ariel burning. Then he saw Baldwin. He was appalled. Shocked, and scared to see who the last one was going to be. He placed his hand to it hesitantly. Instantly, he jumped back, then let out the loudest, most heartbreaking scream she had ever heard. Others may not feel that way, but knowing everything that Michael had been through, seeing him with empathy, Elizabeth felt terrible for him. She brought her hand up to her mouth as she watched tears stream down his face. He put his hand to his stomach, as if he were to be sick.
Unexpectedly, Cordelia approached him. She seemingly came out of nowhere, but that's just how mysterious she was. "It's over."
He turned around to face her.
"We know who you are. Your allies are all dead. You've failed." She declared calmly. Michael shook his head.
"I've already proven to you that I can defy death. I'm just gonna bring her back, and when I do, my Ms. Mead will stand by me as we watch you die." Michael said through gritted teeth.
"You can certainly go to hell, but you won't find her there." Cordelia shrugged casually.
"What have you done?" He asked.
"Her soul is hidden by a spell only I can break. You'll never see her again." Cordelia shook her head. Elizabeth clutched her chest as her heart physically hurt. She watched Michael collapse to the ground. It was almost as if she was feeling the pain he was feeling. "You're alone."
"I'm never alone. I have my father." Michael argued.
"Where is he now? Why did he let this happen? You don't have to follow this path your father laid out for you. You can write your own destiny. You can still turn away. There's humanity in you, I see it. If you come with me, maybe we can find it." She extended her hand out towards him. "Together."
To Elizabeth's surprise, Michael took it. She helped him up, then he jerked her towards him. "Somehow, someway, I'm gonna bring her back. And then I'm going to kill every last one of you."
He turned back and looked at the bodies. Cordelia turned and walked away. That was her one try, though she burnt the only woman in the world who ever cared about him then proceeded to convince him of his humanity. How could someone look to their humanity when their mother and friends were killed? Even if Elizabeth hated the two warlocks more than anything, they were still his allies. Michael collapsed to the ground again, right below where Ms. Mead had been burned. Cordelia was out of sight as far as she could tell and she couldn't sense her, so she made her way over to him. As she approached him, she got slower and more hesitant.
Finally, she knelt down in front of him. Her skin tight dress made that a little hard. As soon as she did, he collapsed into her arms. She held him, though it was unexpected. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to cry, I feel so weak."
"You are human; you are not weak for feeling things. So get angry, make people regret ever wronging you. Be happy, smile so bright that the sun is jealous. Feel sad; crack, crumble, cry until your heart is no longer heavy." She spoke. He looked up at her, and for the first time, she really looked into his eyes. They were a beautiful, piercing, icy blue. She fell in love in a moment, melting into his hands.
"Do you finally know who you are?" He asked, pulling away from her.
"I know who you are." She replied. He nodded slowly.
"So I've heard." He chuckled lightly, sniffing. "Now do you understand?"
"What I understand is you. That you're not truly evil, you were made that way. You feel love like the rest of us, you have a heart that beats like the rest of us. You are not the Antichrist, you're Michael Langdon. You can be whatever you want to be." She explained, being the one to now irritate him with her words.
"I was born in a big gray cloud, out of evil. I am the embodiment of evil, Elizabeth. I am the Antichrist." He refused her words. She just shook her head.
"But you were born screaming out a love song. To me, you aren't that. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel like I know you on another level. Maybe now because I've seen everything you've been through. You didn't deserve anything that life had thrown at you, and you're still so young. You were thrown into this world without a choice in who you wanted to be because it was always going to turn out this way. Your father knew what he was doing. He was smart, and he put you with Vivien and Constance and Tate. All of them didn't want anything to do with you because of your name, because of your powers. No one taught you how to control them. Ben bailed when it got hard. The only person who truly cared about you was Ms. Mead, and even then she was the one who forced you to become the Antichrist with her prophecies and sacrifices. You could've been someone else, but then again it was probably always going to turn out this way. I just... I know you. And I know that you have humanity, like Cordelia said. That humanity is the care you have for people." Elizabeth brushed his messy hair out of his face and placed her hand on his cheek.
He grabbed her arm, rubbing it gently with his thumb. "Those are kind words, coming from you."
"In just a couple of days I found out who you truly were. There's so much more to you than meets the eye." She cocked her head to the side as she examined him. His every feature. He was gorgeous, a lovely creature. A true angel of light like everyone had described him as before.
"I know now why you were made for me." He replied. She gave him a confused look. "The prophecy I was speaking of, it's you. My father created you for me out of his own hands. Someone powerful to aid me in my quest. To be my lover, to sit at my right hand. To be a queen."
"I... don't understand." She shook her head.
"Our souls are intertwined, Elizabeth. We're connected by the red string, or whatever it is people say." He simplified. She just nodded.
"I suppose that makes sense. Does that make my opinion about you biased, then?" She asked.
"It's what you truly believe, so no." He shook his head. He stood, then pulled her up too.
"What can I do?" She asked as another tear fell from his eye.
"Stay with me." He requested. She nodded.
"I can do that."
While Elizabeth snuck back to the academy to get some clothes, Michael ventured into the forest to perform a ritual to speak to his father. He was lost, but not on the brink thanks to Elizabeth. It was clear the witches were stirring up the natural order of things his father had arranged. Without Ms. Mead, he had no guidance. He didn't know what to do anymore, how to go on. So, he asked his father for help. To which he didn't reply. For hours and hours. Eventually, Michael just gave up, and left the forest in his mess of a state. He had visions of the light and the dark. He didn't know what his purpose was. All of it was so confusing. As he walked around, he found an alleyway with an upside down cross. He ventured down it and to the bouncer, who allowed him entrance seeing his state.
He looked around with amazement as a priestess spoke. Everything was red and there were pentagrams everywhere. Michael sat in the back pew. As he listened to her talk, he just covered his face. This wasn't by any means evil. The woman next to him tapped his arm. "How long has it been since you ate, kid?"
"What's it to you?" He retorted.
"Just... tryna help out a fellow believer." She put her hand up in defense. "You know... after the service... I could fix you something. My place is only a couple of blocks from here."
"That's actually really nice of you." Michael muttered out, a sad smile on his face. And so they went. He ate as fast as he could.
"What's your name?" She asked as they sat at the table.
"Michael." He answered.
"You must of been starving." She commented with a chuckle as she watched him. "I've seen a lot of young people like you come to our church off the five stars on yelp and the free donut at check-in. They all have the same look you do. Scared, searching, questioning what the hell this all means."
Michael listened to her speak as she lit a cigarette.
"So... what's your story? How did you end up all alone and at our beloved Satan's doorstep?" She asked.
"My father abandoned me, and my mother tried to kill me." He answered with a fake smile.
"Humanity is shit. This world is a twisted black hole of sin and chaos, and that's why Satanism is the way of the future. We are the fastest growing religion in the world, so we need people like you. Bright, eager, the next generation to help spread the word of Lucifer. 'Cause here's the beautiful secret, babe. Once you embrace that, at our core, we are degenerate, rotten beings, every last one of us, you'll be free. Satanism is about giving into your urges, embracing sin, your true nature. I sold my soul to the devil, and he gave me everything I ever wanted." She rambled.
"Sold your soul?" Michael got a goofy smile. "Did you sign a contract in blood?"
"I made a deal in a Black Mass, as one does, through prayer. And by prayer, I mean killing people. It works. You're standing in the proof. I offered up my soul, and he gave me all this." She gestured around her. "Riches beyond compare. I've got a La-Z-Boy, a cable package with all the premium channels. I shoot up heroin as much as I want and I never get the sweats. Every Wednesday night, Brad Pitt comes over and fucks me till the sun comes up. On Friday nights, I get Ryan Reynolds."
"So that's all it is, then. Satan is carnal pleasure." He mocked her.
"No. Hell no. We've got a greater purpose. We are moving towards the beginning of the end. Our savior is coming. The spawn of Satan will lead us off the cliff and into the end times. We just have to make things terrible enough for him to rise. We are the fetid, rancid, contaminated soil from which he will bloom. And then plunge us in eternal darkness so that we can walk with Satan in eternal hell fire." She dreamed about the moment.
"I hate to break it to you, but you're waiting in vain." He replied, then proceeded to reach for the bread. She took it away from him. He gave her an odd look.
"What are you talking about?" She asked, walking away with the bread.
"I'm the one you're waiting for." He replied, and then heard the sound of a knife.
"How dare you blaspheme!" She yelled, grabbing him by his hair and putting the knife to his throat.
"Well, before you kill me, dear believe... See me."
She looked behind his ear. There sat the mark of the beast. "Hail Satan! Our savior has risen!"
The two rushed to the church as it poured the rain.
"Are you ready for an old fashioned human sacrifice?" The priestess asked. Everyone clapped and cheered, throwing out the occasional Hail Satan. "Black Mass, you are everything!"
The black robes walked forward with two humans, one female and the other male, both bare. She introduced them both, making the whole sacrifice more murderous.
"The honor of today's killing goes to a new member," She took the knife. "Phil."
He took his hood off and grinned, introducing himself.
"They're all yours." She said, handing him the knife. "Hail Satan!"
He walked up to them, but they were stopped. "This honor belongs to someone else!"
"Someone else?" The preistess questioned.
"His name is Michael." She introduced him. "He's... new here."
"Well, even if he's willing to sell his soul, why shouldn't he go before-"
"Michael doesn't need to sell his soul." She interrupted her. "The end times are upon us."
He showed her the mark. The lights flickered. "The mark of the beast. Is it possible that... you're the one?"
Hail Satan. They all chorused, everyone bowing. She handed the knife to Michael from Phil's hand. Michael stepped behind the two, pushing their heads together, making their necks closer. Elizabeth had used her powers to find out where Michael was. She'd been waiting on him for so long. She ran down the alleyway and opened the door herself before rushing in. She stepped up to the alter and stared at Michael, taking him in. She was splattered with blood as he slit their throats twice at a time. It was brutal, their arteries spit blood everywhere. It was all over her and her face. He stopped when he saw her. Everyone continued to clap.
Elizabeth turned and walked off, everything around her getting a little blurry. She gripped the pews as she walked by. Michael dropped the knife and went after her. "Elizabeth!"
She was silent as he grabbed onto her. He took her into his hands.
"Are you alright?" He asked. "What's wrong?"
He took her to the bathroom and sat her down on a stool. He removed her cape from her neck and neatly folded it, placing it aside. He dampened a towel and knelt down in front of her. Warm tears fell down her face as soon as he started dabbing the blood off.
"Don't cry." He cooed. "Everything's just fine."
"You killed those people, innocent people. They hadn't done anything." She shook her head. "Why? Did you even have a reason?"
"No." He answered truthfully. "I just wanted to. Because I'm evil, Elizabeth."
"But it's not your fault." She replied.
"You're saying that to make yourself feel better." He brought his other hand up to her face to position it. More tears fell.
"Do you really have no sympathy?" She asked.
"I just don't think about it anymore. It's like second nature to me. I've murdered all my life. It's nothing new." He shook his head. She sniffed and wiped her nose.
"What if it were me?" She asked quickly, sure of his love for her.
"I stopped them from hurting you, didn't I?" He looked into her eyes for a moment, then went back to wiping her off.
"Those people were what I am to you for someone else. How could you do that to someone?" She brought the situation into perspective. He sighed.
"Elizabeth, I don't care about everyone else. I care about me and the people I love." He replied.
"I care about everyone." She said.
"No you don't, don't lie." He shook his head. "There are people you don't even know exist. You wouldn't think twice about hearing about a dead stranger. People who mean nothing to you don't matter. Some of the ones who do don't matter either." He spoke to her.
"If we're connected like you say, how are we so different?" She asked.
"Like you said, we were raised different. My life was hell and yours wasn't." He shrugged.
"Then it proves that you could've turned out differently." She grabbed onto his shoulder. He looked at her.
"I am rooted with evil, and you can't rid a live thing of their roots or else it will die." He replied.
"What about my roots you claim I have?"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. "Come on, let's go. They want us to eat with them. Are you hungry?"
"I don't think so." Elizabeth shook her head.
They sat at the table, sitting in front of the woman Michael introduced her as Madelyn. Everyone gathered around them, watching him eat. It was crazy to think that they worshipped him like that. They were bombarding him with questions and things. The priestess even asked if she could touch his hair. "Let the kid eat!" Madelyn paused. "Or is there something we can do?"
"I just think everyone should do what you normally do. Have fun. Enjoy your Wednesday potluck dinner like always." Michael shrugged, then looked over at Elizabeth with wide eyes. She let out a small chuckle, her smile showing. He grinned at her, placing his hand on her leg. He didn't move it for the rest of the night.
"You heard him! Our guest of honor eats at his own pace." Madelyn stood up as she announced to them. Everyone dispersed, going to sit in assorted places around the room. Still, they stared and murmured amongst themselves. "Though I can personally vouch for the spinach lasagna, it would be the honor of my life to watch you eat it. So, what happens next?"
Michael was silent for a moment as he moved the plate over to him. "Probably your lasagna."
Elizabeth shot him a goofy smile; She really wanted to laugh at that one, but she didn't. Madelyn did, though. "No, I meant on the global annihilation front. What do we do first? When do we do it?"
"I'm not sure." Michael shrugged.
"What do you mean you're not sure?" She asked.
"I don't know what to do, where to begin." He said. Elizabeth watched his facial expressions. He was being genuine about how he felt. She loved to see him like that. It soon changed though.
"But you're the Antichrist." She cocked her head to the side, unable to process that he had humanity and got lost as much as other people. Everyone treated him like that, if they hadn't... he could've turned out different.
"Which people won't let me forget. Everyone keeps saying that I'm special, that I'm the only one who can bring about the end times, but nobody gave me a fucking instruction manual." He slowly raised his voice, standing up out of his chair and gripping the table angrily as he yelled at her. Elizabeth gently grabbed his hand and tugged him down. He gave her an apologetic look before sitting down again. "The one person who always helped me, who I could always turn to for advice, she's gone now."
Elizabeth didn't interfere, she didn't want to make him look any more weak in front of his followers. "Oh, I think there's some people you need to see."
"Who?" He asked.
"Just trust me." She replied. "We are on the precipice of oblivion, Michael. Now is not the time to bury yourself in doubt. This person who helped you, what was her name?"
"Ms. Miriam Mead." He answered, speaking her name with pride.
"We have access to private search engines that can find anyone." She typed on her phone. "There she is! We'll just go and pick her up."
"It's not possible. I'm not powerful enough to bring her back. Not anymore, at least. She's dead." Michael picked at his food.
"Dead?" She asked. "That's something we can work around. You are the son of Satan. There is no one or no thing you cannot have."
They returned to Elizabeth's hotel room after the dinner. Michael collapsed onto the bed, exhausted from the day he had. He began to take off his clothes. Elizabeth couldn't help but watch. His body was gorgeous, there wasn't a blemish on it. He was perfect. He grabbed a pillow and wrapped his arms around it, putting one leg out. She shook her head at him before taking all her accessories off. She snapped her fingers and changed into a more comfortable set of clothes. Silk pajamas. She stared at his body once more before reaching to grab a blanket. He opened one eye to look at her, then both. "What are you doing?"
"Grabbing a blanket to sleep with." She stated simply. He reached up and grabbed her waist, pulling her onto the bed with him. She looked down at his eyes. They were full of genuine love. She found sometimes even her herself saw him as his label. At times, she was almost surprised he was capable of such feelings. But his mother was a woman, a human, with great emotion. "I should've trusted you to start with."
"Our meeting wasn't exactly grand." He replied. She ran her hands through his hair and leaned back against the headboard.
"I guess not." She agreed, recalling the memory.
"I wish I could've met you somehow else, I would've done so many things differently." He spoke, and she could feel his face move as he laid on her leg.
"Like what?" She asked.
"Well, everything. It wasn't a very ideal situation." He used one of his hands to play with her fingers.
"I know, I just wondered what you would've done had you met me on the street or in a store somewhere." She explained. He was silent for a moment.
"I'm not entirely sure. There's not much a guy like me could do to impress I girl like you. Even if we're bound to each other eternally no matter what anyways." He gave her a cheeky grin.
"There's plenty you could do. Just looking at you I'm impressed. You're gorgeous." She stared down at him. His eyes looked up to meet hers. A smile fell onto his lips.
"You must be talking about yourself." He chuckled. "You are as beautiful as a rose. Has anyone ever told you that?"
That was the best compliment she could've received. She knew what roses meant to him. It all made sense now. This was all destined to happen, she may as well embrace it. "My middle name is Rose."
"How very fitting." He smiled sleepily. He was adorable.
"I feel like I've known you forever, though this is the only real time I've spent with you." She stated.
"It makes sense. We've been connected even since before I was born. I've felt your pain and you've felt mine." He explained. She nodded. "Don't be ashamed, this is what you were created for."
"Are you going to kill all the witches?" She asked.
"Yes." He admitted. "I don't know how or when, but I will."
"I saw your conversation with Cordelia. That's why I asked." She said.
"You know it has to be that way, love." He reached up to caress her face. She nodded.
"I know." And he was proud of her for admitting so.
"Stop worrying and lay down with me." He urged her to lay down. She did so, and he wrapped his big, strong, warm arms around her. She was always so cold, but now she felt warm. She was still a bit iffy about it all, but she felt she knew her purpose now. It was to help Michael in anyway, and to love him. Something she could gladly get on board with, though it meant her betrayal to the witches, her family. She couldn't help but feel bad. They had taken her in and made her feel loved and this is how she repaid them. Maybe she was evil after all.
"I'm going to have to go back to the coven tomorrow." She stated. He nodded knowingly.
"I'm going to be traveling with Madelyn." He replied.
"Aren't you a little unsure about that?" She asked. He shook his head.
"I'll be fine no matter what. I'm practically unstoppable, El." He shrugged. She just stayed silent and pulled the cover over her. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."