The devil was swimming. 

He had been privy to all the secret instructions given to the young men preparing themselves for the swimming competition. Despite the foul taste of water in their mouth, they swam very very well. Their bodies arced and curves sending ripples through the underdeep, making him wobble. 

And when they'd leave, he'd alternate between his leviathanic form and the human guise he wore. 

It was nighttime and he could here the popping of the fire-crackers and the explosions in the air. The people rejoiced for he was defeated at the hands of the might of the heavens that banished him. And all that might was thrust into the body of a Nazerene carpenter. Oh, how he was defeated. 

He tried a butterfly stroke, then a dive and then a crawl. 

The water was alight with unlife. He had a talent for that, attracting foul beings and chattering, chitinous things none could see. He was the devil and they followed him, idiotic and unblinking. Good help was dying out, defeated by fervent prayers of fresh believers. He had to recommission several talented ghouls to Europe. South Asia was heaven on the morale of an ambitious demon.    

He emerged into the clearing he had burned for this yesterday, naked and dripping. The goat was waiting with her stupid woman pet. The pet was adamantly trying to gulp down charred grass. The goat watched, languorous. 

"Is it done?" he asked. "The pieces are set?" 

"Yes." the goat replied. 

"Yes what?" 

"Yes most vile and putrescent master and lord of the underdeep and the unliving, unignitor of- 

"How very witty of you, Juliana. Master will do. So that brings your involvement in this torrid little affair to an end. Back to hell." 

"Uncle Luce, you promised!" she whined as she had when she was a mewling little demonling, foul and formless. "You promised I could watch till the end. Do you have any idea how fucking hard this was? Thirty years of emotional manipulation on the woman. I had to kill the watchman's wife. I had to fine-tune the personalities of those three airhead sisters all while you swam around in a stupid river!" 

The devil put his pants on. "The blasphemy. It stings." 

Juliana had slowly and gradually transformed into her preferred form, the British pop starlet Naomi La Nades. 

Juliana was a peculiar little experiment. Procreation was not entirely possible for the unliving. So the remaining option was to form composites. Hybridization. It took a lot of blood and mutilation, the devil had a lot of fun and the fruit of his arduous experiments was his niece, Juliana. Not that she was really his niece. He just liked the concept of her being related to him, but not too related. The perfect demon for this age. Juliana was responsible for the rejuvenation of the Western Illuminati. She helped far more than required with Syria and Yemen and the devil had to practically hold her back from Russia. This, he thought, would be far too quaint a project for her sustained interest. 

"You've changed into your hippie form, Juliana. Your lack of control over those emotions you seem to have inherited from somewhere are frankly...well, they're disturbing," he says. 

"I'm not leaving. You can't make me." She crosses her arms, flicks her strawberry blonde hair behind her and pouts. 

"I can, but I won't. Watch like the man you've just snared, Juliana. Watch and learn." 

The pet is very confused now. It is desperately looking for its goat. It patters towards Juliana in her La Nades form and sniffs her legs. Satisfied, it curls up under her. 

"Just what do you plan on doing with that?" he asked. 

"Not entirely sure yet. She's all the spunk the preacher's wife ever had. Now it's all gone so she'll have to drum all that up on her own." 

"What fun, is it not? They are so malleable, humanity. I remember this Moroccan woman from a few years ago- 

"I've heard that one, Uncle Luce. You seriously aren't going to tell me why you're doing this? You've never done that before." 

"This is complicated, my darling. This is the nastiest of the little webs I've managed to plant. Have you ever seen an angel?" 

"No." 

"Good. For they are fearsome to behold. Elisha asked once for the young man's eyes to be opened. He saw chariots, Juliana. Chariots of fire." 

"Yeah. And I've seen an atomic bomb going off. Scary." 

The devil laughed and shook his head. "You do not know fear. You do not fear your Enemy, Juliana. You have not met Him. You are a new thing, fashioned out of parts to be something perfect but you have not tasted the fear of the Lord. His agents, though. Those, I have dealt with. They intervene in different ways now, after the Dove. But they are here. There is a network here, tightly wound and throbbing and burgeoning and waiting to explode. Scarier than an atomic bomb. Revival. His presence permeates these streets and that message spreads from the mouth of the junkie to the whore. From the communist to the bourgeoisie. The fear of the Lord." 

"So? It's one state in one country. You've dealt with this before." 

"Not like this. These repercussions will spread. To Riyadh. To your precious Syria. To the ends of the earth."

Juliana chuckled. "How would you even know that?" 

"I have roamed this earth in the aeons of the watchers and the first men. I know, Juliana." The devil ran his hand through his long hair, sweeping it back. "I know. And I am afraid. We shall nip this, my darling. We shall nip this in the bud before it's too late."   

"And the angels?" 

"They will let us play." The devil checked his Rolex and began unbuttoning his shirt. "It is, after all, free will we are playing with. They will let us play." 

Juliana was back in goat form, her pet snoring softly in a little pit of soft earth. "Just watch for now. The heart is far more volatile than an atomic bomb, Juliana. You will learn." 

The scream echoed across the water. 

When Juliana turned, the devil had already dived and if you didn't know, you'd have thought he's just another young swimmer practicing his breaststrokes.