“Good morning, Mr. President,” the hot young staffer said to President Joseph Biden on his first full day in office as he took his seat at his desk in the Oval Office.

“Good morning to you too, Loola. We have a big day ahead of us. I have been waiting for this day for 47 years. Now I sit at this desk. I’m the tough guy. The man in charge. I relish this. I used to sit in this chair and pretend all the time when I was veep. Now I’m here and it’s mine. I’m the president. Damn it, man. I was VP once and I still can’t believe I made it back here on top of the ticket.”

Walking over to the 46th president, Loola sat at the edge of his desk, just close enough that Joe was able to reach out his hand, grab a few strains of her hair, and sniff it. “So, Mr. President,” she says as her cheeks flush coral, “what is your first order of business?”

“Ya know, kid? I’ve had a lot of time to think about it and I know just what this country needs.”

“What’s that? Medicare for All? Student loan forgiveness? Legalization of the Dreamers? Trump in chains? I’m so curious! AH!”

Taking another sniff of Loola’s fire-red hair, the president stands up from his desk, turns his back to her, and peers out the window onto the lawn of the White House. “Right here is where I’m going to build it. Right here is where we are going to celebrate it.”

“Build what? Celebrate what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Just then, four large men in horned helmets rush through the door. “Greetings, Mr. President. It’s finally time, isn’t it?” the largest of the men said to him.

“My dear Arch-Vicar, it’s been too long. I’m sorry I have been a stranger these last few years, but we did it, you son of a bitch, we actually did it.

“That we did, my old friend, that we did.” Loola saw the Arch-Vicar smile a smile too wide for his mouth. It was just then she noticed that awful energy in the room that came in with these priests. It hung all around them like death itself. The room had gotten quiet. Unnaturally quiet. The birds who were singing in the garden had stopped their lullabies. Even the rush of traffic and tourists outside had ground to a halt. Loola felt her skin crawl, felt like it was holding her here in this room with these men, and all she wanted to do was jump out of her skin, fly out the window, and never return. Priests; how did she know these four men were priests? She had never seen priests dress like this before. Loola was starting to grow weary of the four men talking to her president, especially that big one. Who was this man that even the leader of the free world venerated so? Just then, the big man spoke up.

“This is the time,” started the Arch-Vicar.

“For Belial is merciless,” one of the other priests had responded.

“Time for time’s ending,” the next rang out.

“In the chaos of lust,” the last of the four priests bellowed.

“This is the time.” Now it was President Biden who continued the mantra these priests had started! Belial….Belial…Loola recognized that name, but where did she hear it before?

“For Belial is among us.”

“His presence brings sanctuary.”

“Adorned in robes made by Lilith.”

“Singing condemnation for the damned.”

“No salvation for the wicked.”

“This is the time.”

“For Belial has switched the poles.”

“Of putrid stench and rot.”

“Dilation and degradation.”

“And the debasement of all things.”

“We shall usher in a new era.”

“Of worm and wanton.”

“Pleasure’s folly.”

“Nature shall be master.”

“In His divine grace, we shall return.”

“Not your will, but His.”

“That you may all be lost forever.”

Loola was confused. Was this really her president? Was this really the Joe Biden she voted for? “Ah…Mr. President, who are these men? What’s going on here? I’m starting to get frightened. I really don’t feel comfortable anymore.”

“Loola, sweetie,” President Biden grabs another handful of hair and gives it a much deeper and longer sniff this time. “Do you see what I just did there? Sniff your hair? You liked that earlier, but now, not so much, huh? Things have changed because you’ve seen this darker side of me? Or are these men being here making you uncomfortable? Do you really want to know why they’re here? It’s simple: the Biden men are cursed with high libido. Just look at Hunter; I’m sure you’ve seen his massive cock before online. Where do you think the kid gets it? He’s hung just like his old man. But, see, that’s the problem. His inability to keep it in his pants almost cost me the election; hell, some of my pervy antics almost cost me the election, so I decided something. Something very important. We will institute a new holiday in worship of the suppression of all of these desires. Ban all acts of sexual impropriety outside of the Belial Day festival. But you’re really going to think it’s something. Seeing what the festival will look like. It’s going to solve so many of our problems. Just trust us.”

“The world isn’t this broken! What the fuck is even going on!”

“Loola, sweetie, I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but the five of us will show you. These things have been going on longer than either of us have been alive. I figure I’m just going to hasten the process myself. Belial would have had his day anyway if I hadn’t given it to him. We are skewed on his horns and escape is a fate unobtainable. If it wasn’t total war that brought upon his rule, it would be famine or disease. I’m skipping all that bad stuff and getting right to the good part. The end part.”

“Here we stand in worship of Belial’s great name.” Once again, the Arch-Vicar started off the chanting, which circled around Loola out of the mouths of the men around her.

“Of Mammon, our master.”

“And Moloch, the great devourer.”

“Oh, Father Lucifer, forgive us.”

“Oh, Earth mother, we repent.”

“Filth infused in filth.”

“Wrapped by their wicked tendrils.”

“Possessed, possessed.”

“Infused with an acrid aether.”

“Rot, rot, rot away.”

“Washed with diseased blood.”

“Clean of salvation.”

“Dirth and degradation.”

“In the dominion of the enemy of man.”

“A king for the conquerors of virtue.”

“That which we so casually cast aside.”

“Possessed, possessed.”

“Father.”

“Mother.”

“Sons.”

“Daughters.”

“All wicked in their deceit.”

“Always hiding in their lust.”

“How then shall there be atonement?”

“By blood!”

“How shall Belial be propitiated?

“By blood!”

Hearing the names of Moloch and Mammon in the mantra of the priests and her president made her come to a quick realization. She remembered where she had seen the name Belial before; right next to these two on a security briefing she had to sit through on Internet extremism and conspiracy trafficking. This was all supposed to be some kind of crackpot byproduct of schizophrenics on the internet. She kept telling herself this over and over again as the men slowly crept toward her, their horned helmets menacing down upon her very sex and being. This was all a conspiracy theory; none of this is supposed to be real.

Just then, she felt ten hands grab at her clothes, simultaneously ripping and tagging at them. The struggle and protest she held in her heart only came out of her with violent shakes and sobs. The frenzied priests and president all took their turns with the staffer as she laid there foaming at the mouth. Loola couldn’t do anything; she didn’t resist, she just let the men take her with them wherever they decided to go, and this made the priests especially more violent. By the end of the ceremony, Loola’s soul had left her body, just like she hoped it would when she first noticed the inhuman presence the priests had, just not in the way she had hoped. She laid on the floor of the Oval Office, lifeless and bloody. The Arch-Vicar bid his farewell to the President of the United States, content with the ritual coronation of Belial Day. All that was left was the announcement and preparations. They had already gotten their Lord’s blessing with the ceremony of high magic they had all performed.

Stepping around the blood pooling over the carpet where it was too thick to absorb, the president picked up his phone and called his chief of staff into the office.

“So, I take it the ceremony was a success, sir?”

“Why, yes; in fact, it went smoother than I had hoped it would. We didn’t run into a single problem at all. Belial Day has been finalized with Belial himself. He is pleased with us.”

“That’s wonderful news, Mr. President! Congratulations. Now, about this body here, what do you want me to do with it?”

“I don’t know, man. Call Joe Scarborough and ask him. He’s the expert.”