The summoning circle required a lot of preparation. According to the book, it's not necessary for the summoning, but it makes things safer. That's why I used 5 different circles. The innermost one was done in my own blood. Around that circle was a circle of salt, then a circle of powdered iron and a circle of powdered silver, which Hideaki helped me get my hands on. The final circle was a bunch of drawings. Symbols I had found in the book. Symbols of safety, peace, restraint. Shit like that. Stuff I thought might be useful.
Preal, Keursio, Hideaki, and Moss were all there with me. I told them they didn't have to come, but they insisted. Especially Keursio. She flat out refused to let me do this alone.
So, in the dead of night, in the desert, with no one else around, I got to work. I lit the candles, spilled some of my blood on a drawing of his symbol in the center of the circles, and did everything else the book said to do. It was all just precautions. All you really need to do to summon a Daemon is call. If it hears, it may or may not answer.
I began the chant.
“Kaitaea Venasco,” I said. “Ia Specto. Mearla Miatischo. Xialv Partra Verda.”
The candle's began flickering, and the cold night air grew warmer. It was working. I raised my voice and continued.
“Gregalla Beralta! Krifallo Nigrass! Azail! Hiralto Brigrial Herahn!”
The candles erupted into raging infernos, lighting up the dark night. The circles began glowing brightly. The symbol of Azail in the center vanished, and in its place, a small crimson rift opened, and smoke billowed forth from it. The smoke took form, sort of resembling the shape of a more or less human body, and two eyes appeared. The sclera were brown, and they each had a slit-like pupil. I had done it. I had summoned one of the Daemon lords.
“Why have you called me here, Anthony,” the cloud of smoke asked.
“How do you know my name?” I asked.
“Answer my question,” it said, this time in a more demanding tone.
The clouds of smoke briefly obscured the eyes, and when I could see them again, they had rotated, so that the slit pupils were horizontal instead of vertical. I gulped, and gripped my bokken tightly.
“You are Azail, the Enabler, right?” I asked.
“Yes,” it said.
“You are suspected in the disappearance of at least two people,” I said. “Drake Thorne, and the mother of Gray Nicholas. What do you know about them?”
A sound came form the cloud of smoke. I think it might have been the Daemon's laughter. The candles and the circles both grew dimmer. As they did, the figure of smoke became somewhat more solid. Closer to a human shape then before. The smoke obscured the eyes again, almost like a blink, and when they became visible, they had vertical pupils again.
“You are a fool,” Azail said. “Summoning me just to ask such a simple question.”
It raised one of its smoky hands and snapped its fingers. However, instead of making a regular finger snapping sound, it created a resonating screech, which exploded outward, snuffing the candles out, and causing the glowing circles to disappear entirely. The smoke figure now became completely solid, and Azail the Enabler stood before me, in all his hellish glory.
He was 8 feet tall, and some change. His bangs were long, and parted so that they framed his deeply tanned face. The rest of his hair was shorter, and untamed. His eyes rotated with every blink. His mouth was somewhat larger then a normal humans. His ears, barely visible behind his hair, were small, and pointy. He was dressed in black and brown, very baggy clothing, and he was draped in a long, dusty cloak. His hands both ended in four clawed fingers, and his feet, lacking any covering, were scarred and bruised, with sharp claws of their own.
He towered over me, a testament of true, demonic power. Those circles had been meant to hold back his power, so only a fraction of his essence would be summoned here. But they had proved useless. I understood now that power like his couldn't be contained.
Hideaki charged forward, with his daito in hand, and slashed at Azail. Azail simply raised a hand and caught the blade, without even flinching. He held it there, examining it for a moment.
“This sword was forged by Goro Masamune,” he said. It wasn't a question. He was stating it as fact. “I remember him. A good swordsmith. A good student.”
That took me by surprise. The book said that Azail was a smith, but that he had trained Masamune himself was saying something. Azail drew a long dagger from his belt and swung it at the blade of Hideaki's sword. I was expecting a clang of steel or something, but instead, the knife just passed through the daito like air, and when Azail moved his hand a bit, most of the blade came off where he had cut it.
“He was never quite as good as me, though,” Azail said.
He then waved his hand, and Hideaki was blown aside by some invisible force. Moss drew his gun and fired, hitting Azail in the face. Although his head was jerked sideways by the force, he showed no signs of damage or pain. He turned to glare at Moss.
“Don't do that,” he growled.
Moss fired again, but it did just as much good as the first time.
“Stop it,” Azail said.
Another shot.
“That's getting annoying,” Azail said.
Moss shot him in the face one more time.
“Enough!” Azail snapped, knocking Moss aside with that same force.
He then turned back to me. As he did, he seemed to notice Keursio a few feet behind me. He turned and addressed her.
“Hello, Witch,” he said.
He turned back to me.
“You believe I kidnapped these people?” he asked me.
I gripped my bokken tightly and said “I haven't ruled it out.”
“And what if I told you your assumption was wrong?” he asked.
“C-can you lie?” I asked him.
“Of course I can,” he said “I am not Fae, I am Daemon. I am perfectly capable of deceit.”
“Then why should I believe that you weren't involved?” I asked.
“I never said I'm not involved,” he said. “I'm simply saying that I did not kidnap them.”
“Then where are they?” I demanded, screwing my courage together.
“Do not make orders of me,” Azail said. Though he was calm, I could feel the hatred in his words. “You are lucky I haven't already killed you for having the gall to bring me here.”
I gulped.
“Then, please, can you tell me where they are?” I asked.
“I can,” he said “But I shall not. All I will say is that you are not the only mortal foolish enough to conjure upon the Lords.”
So that's it then. Someone else, probably a human cultist, was responsible, and he was somehow involved with the Daemon Lords, or at least one of them. At least, I think that's what Azail meant.
Azail began to dissolve into smoke again. He was leaving.
“Wait!” I said. “I still have questions!”
“None of which I have time or patience to answer,” Azail said.
I'm not sure what exactly went through my head at that moment, but I pulled the piece of chain from my pocket and held it up to him.
“At least tell me what this thing is!” I said. “It was found in Drake's bedroom, and another was found by Gray.”
Azail just gave it a questioning glance before responding.
“That is just a simple trinket I forged,” his voice resounded, as he continued to fade away. “A Luck Chain. A broken one. Completely useless.”
He disappeared completely, but his voice rang out one last time before fading completely.
“I will leave you in peace today,” He said. “But if you call me again, my presence will not come cheap.”
And with that, he was gone. Moss and Hideaki are okay, albeit a bit shaken, and Preal was scared shitless by the whole ordeal. Keursio has been silent since Azail spoke to her.
I now have more questions then answers. I'm gonna get some sleep, then I'm making some phone calls. Hopefully someone will have a lead.
Also, there's something else I've been considering. Azail mentioned that I was lucky he didn't kill me. That got me thinking; maybe that Luck Chain isn't as broken as he thinks.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Monday, March 23, 2015
Azail
Preal Kent, is the guys name. The one we rescued from the Panopticon. He says he doesn't remember anything about the Fears. Which means that the mind linking gizmo they use works. I've told him about the Fears, but he didn't believe me at first. Not until the magic dead guy phased through our hotel wall to check on us. Seriously, Marshall? You can't give us a bit of a heads up that you're dropping by?
So, yeah. Preal believes us now. He's also agreed to stick with us, at least until he figures out what to do from here. I think he might have been a runner. And Marshall has informed us that Isiore is still alive. I'm not sure how he knows that, but he didn't say anything else on the matter. At least Keursio found it reassuring.
Anyway, we left Tennessee to check out Bill Dawson and Angelo Nox's base. We were standing outside when a guy a few years older then me approached us.
“They aren't there,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Angelo and William,” he said. “They moved. They knew you were on to them, Tony. So they saw fit to relocate.”
“How do you know my name?” I asked.
“Been reading the blog,” he said, smiling. “Duh.”
“And how do you know that they moved?”
“I've been looking into them too,” he said.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Someone you can Trust,” he said.
Something about the way he said that made me think of “Trust” being capitalized. Anyway, I guess he was trustworthy. Or, at least nonthreatening. I don't know, but he didn't seem like one of the bad guys.
“What's your name?” I asked.
He chuckled a bit.
“You can call me AJ,” he said.
“All right, AJ,” I said. “Where'd they go?”
“The breadcrumbs shouldn't be hard for you to follow,” he said.
“What about their backer?” I asked. “Do you know where I can find him?”
“Well, no,” AJ said. “But I know how you can track him.”
“How?” I asked.
“Well, he's funding those guys, and probably several others,” AJ said. “He must be getting the money from somewhere, right?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“And where is he getting it?” AJ asked.
“Either he's already rich, or has a very high paying job,” I said.
“Or?” AJ pressed.
I thought for a second before realizing where AJ was going with this.
“I need to look into disappearances,” I said. “Robberies. If there's anything in the news about stolen money, then he might be involved.”
“Bingo,” AJ said. “Listen, I gotta go, but here's something else that might help.”
He handed me a large book, wrapped in tissue paper.
“Ta-ta,” he said, turning to leaving.
As he walked away, I opened the tissue paper carefully. It contained a large, demonic text. I've been looking into demonology a bit, but haven't found anything useful. But seeing that book, I just knew I was holding the answers I needed in the palm of my hand. That guy, AJ, was extremely helpful.
I got back to our current hotel and started pouring over the text. I've been reading it for about three days now. I haven't read all of it. Far from it. But I've read everything about Azail The enabler.
Of the ten Daemon lords, he's the only one who doesn't keep servants. As his name suggests, he embodies the sin of enabling. While conventional demonology only uses 7 sins, this one lists ten. Azail is known to allow those around him to spread wanton destruction and war as they please, despite the fact that he could easily stop them. He even forges the weapons they use to do so. He is one of the oldest of the Daemon lords. While most Daemons are monstrous, and wage war for no other reason then their own enjoyment, Azail seems to show little interest in violence. That's not to say he isn' dangerous. As a Lord, he is exceptionally powerful, and could level armies of other Daemons if he chose to. He's just less active then the other Lords, apparently.
The book also has instructions on how to summon Daemons. It even has a list of precautions to keep them contained. However, there is a warning. The book says never, under any circumstances, should a mortal attempt to summon one of the Lords.
Reading that warning, I thought of Daniel. I thought of what he would do in this situation. I can't say for sure what he would do. He's not always predictable. But I can guess. Daniel would ignore the rules. He would stare death in the face, without backing down. He would stand up to an enemy he stands no chance against. He would draw he sword, and announce that he's not afraid. And that's exactly what I plan to do.
I'm going to summon Azail.
God help me.
-Tony Helioson, signing out.
So, yeah. Preal believes us now. He's also agreed to stick with us, at least until he figures out what to do from here. I think he might have been a runner. And Marshall has informed us that Isiore is still alive. I'm not sure how he knows that, but he didn't say anything else on the matter. At least Keursio found it reassuring.
Anyway, we left Tennessee to check out Bill Dawson and Angelo Nox's base. We were standing outside when a guy a few years older then me approached us.
“They aren't there,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Angelo and William,” he said. “They moved. They knew you were on to them, Tony. So they saw fit to relocate.”
“How do you know my name?” I asked.
“Been reading the blog,” he said, smiling. “Duh.”
“And how do you know that they moved?”
“I've been looking into them too,” he said.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Someone you can Trust,” he said.
Something about the way he said that made me think of “Trust” being capitalized. Anyway, I guess he was trustworthy. Or, at least nonthreatening. I don't know, but he didn't seem like one of the bad guys.
“What's your name?” I asked.
He chuckled a bit.
“You can call me AJ,” he said.
“All right, AJ,” I said. “Where'd they go?”
“The breadcrumbs shouldn't be hard for you to follow,” he said.
“What about their backer?” I asked. “Do you know where I can find him?”
“Well, no,” AJ said. “But I know how you can track him.”
“How?” I asked.
“Well, he's funding those guys, and probably several others,” AJ said. “He must be getting the money from somewhere, right?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“And where is he getting it?” AJ asked.
“Either he's already rich, or has a very high paying job,” I said.
“Or?” AJ pressed.
I thought for a second before realizing where AJ was going with this.
“I need to look into disappearances,” I said. “Robberies. If there's anything in the news about stolen money, then he might be involved.”
“Bingo,” AJ said. “Listen, I gotta go, but here's something else that might help.”
He handed me a large book, wrapped in tissue paper.
“Ta-ta,” he said, turning to leaving.
As he walked away, I opened the tissue paper carefully. It contained a large, demonic text. I've been looking into demonology a bit, but haven't found anything useful. But seeing that book, I just knew I was holding the answers I needed in the palm of my hand. That guy, AJ, was extremely helpful.
I got back to our current hotel and started pouring over the text. I've been reading it for about three days now. I haven't read all of it. Far from it. But I've read everything about Azail The enabler.
Of the ten Daemon lords, he's the only one who doesn't keep servants. As his name suggests, he embodies the sin of enabling. While conventional demonology only uses 7 sins, this one lists ten. Azail is known to allow those around him to spread wanton destruction and war as they please, despite the fact that he could easily stop them. He even forges the weapons they use to do so. He is one of the oldest of the Daemon lords. While most Daemons are monstrous, and wage war for no other reason then their own enjoyment, Azail seems to show little interest in violence. That's not to say he isn' dangerous. As a Lord, he is exceptionally powerful, and could level armies of other Daemons if he chose to. He's just less active then the other Lords, apparently.
The book also has instructions on how to summon Daemons. It even has a list of precautions to keep them contained. However, there is a warning. The book says never, under any circumstances, should a mortal attempt to summon one of the Lords.
Reading that warning, I thought of Daniel. I thought of what he would do in this situation. I can't say for sure what he would do. He's not always predictable. But I can guess. Daniel would ignore the rules. He would stare death in the face, without backing down. He would stand up to an enemy he stands no chance against. He would draw he sword, and announce that he's not afraid. And that's exactly what I plan to do.
I'm going to summon Azail.
God help me.
-Tony Helioson, signing out.
Monday, March 16, 2015
Puppy Dog
I've been out for a little over a week now, and I apologize for that. Some crazy shit happened, but when does it not? It all started while I was out walking to the mall with Kyle and Seraph. I had gathered some information on the Fears activity from the runners, but not enough. I had taken to wandering the city in hopes of bumping into something. Anyway, I was walking next to Seraph, with Kyle walking a few paces behind us. I kept looking to the sides occasionally, keeping an eye on our surroundings. It was silent for a while, before Seraph spoke to me.
“Why are you scared?” she asked.
“I'm not scared,” I replied. “A bit paranoid, yes, but I figure that should be understandable.”
“I wasn't referring to the frequent glances in every direction,” she said. “I was talking about you and me.”
“Wha?” I asked, a little dumbfounded.
“Whenever we're together, you act distant,” she said. “Hesitant. Why? Is it me?”
“What?” I said. “I'm not afraid of you.”
Which is rue. Yes, she's an ex-servant. Yes, she is a scaly snake girl. But I've never been afraid of her.
“Then what are you afraid of?” she asked, stopping me. “Something's bothering you, and I want to know what it is.”
I didn't say anything for a few seconds.
“Daniel?” she asked firmly. “What is it?”
“It's nothing,” I said, sighing. “Don't worry about it.”
“Daniel,” she said sternly. She had on an “I'm about to give you such a scolding” expression.
“Um, guys?” Kyle said. “I don't mean to interrupt your conversation, but have you noticed that-?”
“We're being followed?” Seraph finished for him.
“For at least two miles now,” I said, giving a slight nod. See, there's a reason I was paying so much attention to our surroundings. There were eyes in the bushes and trees, watching us as we walked.
“Okay, good,” Kyle said. “So I'm not crazy. So what's our course of action?”
“Same as I usually do things,” I said.
“Wait for them to make a move?” Seraph asked.
I nodded.
“Then get your Nightwing on?” Kyle continued.
“No,” I said. “This time it's Deadpool. I'm getting my Deadpool on.”
“You could never be Deadpool,” Seraph said, cracking a mocking grin.
“Yes I could!” I insisted. “I could totally be Deadpool!”
“Let's face it Daniel,” Kyle said. “Deadpool is more badass then you'll ever be.”
“Shut up!” I said.
“Seriously, though,” Seraph said. “It looks like trouble's about to start.”
She gestured behind me and I turned slightly. There, emerging from the shadows across the street, was Mute. That technopath I fought earlier.
“Mute,” I muttered.
“You mean the Technopath you fought earlier?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah, him,” I replied.
I turned to look down the street behind us, and before I knew it, a snide grin was creeping across my face. Another familiar figure was approaching us.
“Puppy Dog,” I said, letting out a chuckle.
“Um, Daniel?” Seraph asked, but I wasn't paying attention anymore.
I summoned my sheathed sword to my hand and began approaching him as well. He was a tall man, a couple inches above 6 feet if I had to guess, but I'm pretty sure he's at least a couple years younger than I am. He was dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, with the twin triangles, the symbol of the Archangel painted across the chest. He had dark hair that was died gray in the front, and his eyes were a bright blue. He had some stubble on his square chin, and he was decently muscular in stature. Across his back he had a sword, and in his right hand he carried a metal baseball bat. He had a combat knife clipped to his belt, and a sawed-off shotgun was holstered on one thigh, with a bayonet on his other thigh.
I was somewhat acquainted with this man. I don't remember our first fight very well, which I'm pretty sure is do to some mental manipulation. I know that I woke up afterwards in a church, having taken a beating. A series of burned cuts, arranged in the shape of the twin triangles, had been etched over my heart by this guy. Although I recovered from the other wounds he inflicted, those scars still remain. And when we met again, I made sure to give him a good ass-whooping.
We now stood a few feet apart from each other.
“Devil Killer,” he said, a little spitefully.
“Puppy Dog,” I said, returning the greeting.
Okay, I don't think that's his real name, but that's what I decided to call him, and he hasn't corrected me yet, so whatever.
“Daniel!” Kyle called to me. I turned to look at him and Seraph. Mute was standing a bit away from them, but he didn't seem hostile at the moment.
“You should be good,” I said. “It's me they want.”
As I said that, I looked into Seraph's eyes, tilted my head a bit, and twitched my cheek. She returned the signal. I was confident that they wouldn't get harmed, but I had given them warning to not take any chances and to make a break for it if things went downhill, and in the worst case scenario, to fight back. Seraph's more than just a pretty face. She's an ex-servant. She could hold her own if she had too. And Kyle had practiced a bit too.
“So, we doin' this or what?” I asked, turning back to Puppy Dog.
Instead of answering, he gripped his bat with both hands and entered a fighting stance. Then we attacked each other. I didn't unsheathe my sword at first. Instead, I kept it in my off hand and used it to deflect his first few attacks. Then I forced his weapon aside and punched him in the face. Then I gripped the hilt of my sword and swung it, still in its sheath, at him. He parried, and tried to hit me again. I dropped my weight quickly, so his attack passed over my head, and I smacked my sheathed sword into his knee. Then I shot back up, shouting “Dragon style, bitch!” and smacked him in the jaw with the sword's hilt. Then I spun around and swung my sheathed sword at him, but he managed to block that one. He drew back his bat, preparing to swing it. As he did, I slid into a stance, gripping my sword's sheath in my off hand, and the hilt in my main hand, and I proceeded to get my Virgil on. I've been practicing Iaijutsu a bit, and I've gotten fairly decent at it. As his bat came at me, I quickly drew the sword and slashed with it in one fluid motion, hitting his attacking hand and knocking the bat out of it. He stumbled back a bit, clutching his hand. I hadn't cut his flesh, but I still hurt him by doing that.
“So?” I asked, raising my sword. “You gonna stop holding back?”
“That depends,” he said, drawing his sword. “Are you?”
The sword this guy uses is a khopesh. It's an Egyptian bade, and is basically the closest you can get to wielding an ax without actually wielding an ax. The uniquely curved blade gives it a lot of an axes power without sacrificing the light weight of a sword.
We started swinging our swords at each other, repeatedly parrying each other's blows. It went on for a while before we somehow managed to disarm each other. I willed my sword to return to me, and it reappeared in my hand. I raised it to Puppy Dog's throat, then I heard something hit the ground over by the others. I turned my head to see that Mute had let his heavy coat fall to the ground to expose his gear, and he had extended his claws. He seemed ready to fire them at me, but he didn't get a chance. Seraph was on him too quickly. I don't get to see her fight much. It's a little scary when she does. She had him pinned to the ground in moments. I heard Puppy Dog moving, so I turned my attention back to him. He had drawn his shotgun and was about to take aim. I swung my sword at his shotgun, keeping it away from me. He pulled the trigger as I did, and a spray of shrapnel burst from one of the barrels. I had pushed the gun away just in time, so most of it hit the ground beside me, with a few fragments grazing my leg. He drew his bayonet and tried to slash at me with it, but I blocked with my sheath and kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him down. I returned my sword to its sheath and drew my own gun. As I did, he hooked the bayonet to the end of his shotgun and stood back up. We stood there for a second with our guns aimed at each other. We both froze, as a new presence filled the air.
Ten figures in dark clothes surrounded us. I didn't get a good look at all of them, but I could feel them.
Back when I had powers, I had a really strong sixth sense that came with them. I no longer had that sixth sense. Or, at least, it wasn't as strong any more, so I can't sense the Fears like I used to. But these people... The felt like a being I hadn't seen in over a year. A being that was supposed to be dead.
They felt just like the Archangel.
And they were standing in a circle around my friends and I. I had to act quickly. I threw myself to one side and fired my gun to the side of Puppy Dog's face, intentionally missing him. That had the effect I had hoped for; he was startled so badly he accidentally shot off (tee-hee) the other barrel of his shotgun into the empty space I had just been, rendering his weapon empty. It would take him a bit of time to reload. I quickly slid my gun across the ground over to Kyle, who dashed to pick it up, then I called Seraph's name and threw her my sword. Now they were at least armed. I then reached into my pocket and pulled out my brass knuckles, which I slipped onto my left hand. I then flipped open my new knife. I turned to keep my eyes on Puppy Dog while addressing the new-comers.
“Who the hell are you guys?” I demanded.
“Do not mind us,” Said a man, who I'm guessing was the leader. “My name is Adon, and we are the Apostles.”
“Apostles, huh” I said. “Never heard of you.”
Which isn't completely true. I had seen an Apostle Yu-Gi-Oh card once, but that's a story I don't care much for telling.
“That is how we prefer it,” Adon replied.
“We're a bit of a covert group,” another Apostle said.
“Even the Archive has little knowledge of us,” said another.
“So why make yourselves known now?” I asked.
“Ugh,” Puppy Dog sighed. “Because you forced their hand, you ass!”
“Hey, dude,” I said. “Language.”
Puppy Dog turned to address the Apostles.
“Stay back!” he demanded. Then he turned to me, allowing his shotgun to fall to the ground. He drew his knife, holding it in a reverse-grip before him. “He's mine.”
There was something off about the way he said that. Like something in the air shifted as he did. Something that made me wanna fight just as much as he did.
“Of course,” Adon said. “For now, we are just spectating.”
“But if you screw up, we'll kill him for you!” said a rather enthusiastic woman in the group.
“Please calm yourself, Lasciel,” Another man said. “The boy has got this.”
Okay, I know for a fact I've heard that guy's voice before. There was some strange power behind it.
Puppy Dog and I faced each other, and the fight continued. Now, there's a pretty big difference between sword fights and knife fights. You see, swords are big. Even shortswords are relatively large in comparison to daggers. Because of this, the can be countered easily if you know what you're doing. Knives are small. Which means you can't parry them nearly as easily. Additionally, their light weight makes them faster and easier to maneuver. Knife fights end quickly, because blocking them is hard as hell. Someone usually lands a finishing cut or stab pretty quickly.
We went at it, and we both got slashes in at each other's arms and chests, but the fight ended when I managed to plunge my own knife into his side. He cried out in pain, and I slammed my knuckles into his chin, knocking him out. I don't think the stab was a fatal one, but the blow to the jaw would keep him down for a while. The key to winning any fight is to be more aggressive then the other guy. It worked for me this time.
I took a few steps back and caught my breath. Adon nodded to one of the other Apostles, who stepped forward and knelt over Puppy Dog. He took a damp clothe and used it to apply pressure to his wound. Then, he slit his own thumb on Puppy Dog's knife and let a few drops of his blood drip into Puppy Dog's mouth.
I approached Adon, and as I did, I reached into my sock and drew the derringer I had tucked in there. None of the Apostles moved as I did. I stood a few feet away from Adon, and I took note of a few things. First of all, he had a large, curvy sword across his back. It gave off a sinister feeling that I've encountered before in three other swords. Well, technically two. Time travel shenanigans and whatnot. Secondly, he had a pendant in the shape of the twin triangles around his neck. Third, he wasn't breathing. At all. Fucking weird...
I shrugged all that off and looked Adon in the eyes.
“Look,” I said. “I don't want things to get any more violent then they already are. I'm sorry about what happened with the Archangel, but you have to understand that he was a monster. He attacked my friends. And my family. I did what I did to protect them.” I clutched the handle of my derringer. I had a feeling this speech would fall on deaf ears. “Are you really going to condemn me for that?”
Adon remained quiet for a moment, before turning to one of the Apostles, the one who I've heard speak before.
“Matthew,” he said. “If you will.”
The man nodded, then turned to me.
“Drop your knife, and your knuckles,” he said, that same power in his voice.
I did. The knife and brass knuckles clattered to the ground.
“Daniel!” Kyle said.
“Don't listen to him!” Seraph cried out.
“Tune them out,” Matthew said.
They continued to call out to me, but all I heard was dim background noise.
“Now, I want you to raise that gun to your temple,” Matthew continued.
I slowly did, and the background noise of my friends grew louder, more urgent. I tried to listen, but something wouldn't let me. I couldn't make out what was being said to me. Suddenly, I felt the familiar wooden sheath of my sword in my free hand, and I gripped it. I hadn't summoned it, but sometimes it acts on its own.
“Drop that sword,” Matthew said. “Now.”
I couldn't. My hand just gripped it tighter, rebelling against the order.
“Very well,” Matthew said. “In that case, pull the trigger.”
My index finger found the trigger. The sounds my friends were making were louder then ever, but I still couldn't quite make them out. I started to gently squeeze.
“Master. Your will is stronger then this.”
A single voice had broken through. I looked past Adon, and saw it there. A muscular, spectral being. It's form was blurred, and difficult to make out, but the glowing red eyes were clear as day. I could see them in impossible detail, despite the being's distance from me. It was the spirit of my sword. I had heard its voice a few times, but I had only seen it once, right before I killed Red Daniel. Now I saw it again, and common sense suddenly screamed “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT GUN TO YOUR HEAD!!!”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at Adon. These motherfuckers were brainwashing me! Oh, hell no.
Adon's eyes widened in shock as I turned my gun to him.
“Embrace whatever's left of your master!” I hissed.
I pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit him right in the forehead. His head snapped back, but to my surprise, he didn't go down. His pendant began glowing with a red light, which began to crawl over his body. He turned his head back up to face me, and the bullet wound closed up instantly. The red light faded away.
“No one has ever ignored Matt Onre's orders,” he said. “What are you?”
“You know damn well what I am,” I said, to everyone there. I was pissed, and I made sure they knew by my tone of voice. “I am Daniel Xavier Ferris. I am the man who killed the Archangel, your god! I am a god damn Devil Killer! I am-”
Before I could finish my badass boast, a portal of red light split open several yards behind Adon, and a few feet up in the air. I had seen such a portal before, and I knew exactly what would be coming out of it soon.
“I am so fucked,” I said.
A man riding a solid steel bike shot from the portal, skidding to a halt in the middle of the circle of Apostles. He wore clothing that was stained red by human blood. His long hair and eyes were red as well, and a pair of glowing pentagrams were etched into his pupils. A massive falchion was strapped across his back, and a satanic looking goatee was growing from his chin.
More portals began opening, and creatures began coming through. I didn't get a proper headcount of them, but there were quite a few small goblin-like creatures, a handful of goats with bat wings, a couple large snakes with hedgehog-like quills growing from them, and one creature that looked like a lion, with massive, boar-like tusks, and golden, lobster-like armor coating its back. Denizens of Bloody Hell. They began engaging the Apostles, who were now fully distracted by the legion of monsters the Biker had brought with him.
“Hello, Daniel,” the man said, stepping off his bike and facing me.
“Hey, Damien,” I said, sporting the cockiest grin I could pull off at the time. “The evil beard's coming in nice.”
Damien Monroe. The Bloody Biker, and ruler of Bloody Hell. He was human, once, but some Archive experimentation combined with power given to him by the Game Master had made him a super-powered demi-god. Amongst his abilities, he had super strength, super speed, a large amount of metal that he had control over, and the ability to rearrange his atoms however the fuck he wants. Oh, and apparently he's immortal. I shot him in the head once. And about a year ago, I discovered he survived, and I've clashed with him twice since then. Barely survived each encounter. He also has a thing for rivalry, and can invoke it in others. Which would explain why Puppy Dog an I were so intent to fight each other uninterrupted. He had turned up the heat on our rivalry.
“I'm a little disappointed you resisted that guy's control,” he said. “You could have learned just how painful a bullet to the bloody head can be.”
“Oh, you're not still upset about that whole thing, are you?” I said. “I didn't shoot you that hard, did I?”
“You've upped the snark a bit since last time,” he said. “I hope you've said your goodbyes, cuz I'm about to send you to see our old friend Benny.”
Oh, yeah, he used to Malkator's archenemy. Long story.
He fired an energy blast from his hand, which I dodged by a hair.
“Since when do you fire energy blasts?” I asked.
“I've gotten a bit better with my powers,” he said.
His eyes glowed, and beams of crimson light fired from them. I drew my sword, which caught fire, and deflected the beams with it.
“Lasers from your fucking eyes!” I shouted, losing my cool a bit. “Are you freaking kidding me!?”
“Sod the hell off!” Damien exclaimed, drawing his sword and charging at me. I engaged him, but I had already worn myself out quite a bit. Out sword fight ended pretty quickly, with me being knocked to the ground. He stood over me, falchion in hand.
“It's over,” he said, smiling cruelly.
Then the tip of PR24 nightstick erupted from his solar plexus. He gasped in pain, then looked over his shoulder. I got to my feet as fast as I could to see that Abdalin had appeared directly behind Daien and plunged his nightstick through him from behind.
“Oh, well hello, Abdalin,” Damien growled.
“Goodbye, Damien,” Abdalin said, pulling his nightstick back out and smacking Damien with it. Damien went down, but before he fell unconscious, he fired another energy blast. I failed to dodge this time, and was thrown backwards by the force.
The first thing I remember after that was water. I was lying on my back, in about three inches of it. I opened my eyes to see nothing but white above me. I sat up slowly. I was in a strange place. The sky was like an empty white canvas, and the ground, as far as I could see, was a sheet of cold metal with a few inches of water on top of it. A number of giant katana blades grew from the ground, reaching up into the sky like huge spires. I brushed my shoulder to try and get some of the water off, only to find that it was completely dry. Not a drop of water on me. When I stood up, I saw that the water, instead of clinging to my skin and soaking into my clothes, simply drip right back to the ground. Weird...
I looked around some more and I saw the spirit of my sword floating a few yards from me, just watching.
“Oh,” I said. “It's you.”
It nodded.
“So what is this place?” I asked.
“Me,” it answered simply.
“This place is you” I asked.
It nodded again.
“Seems a bit wet for a fire elemental, doesn't it?” I asked.
It cocked its head, as if it didn't understand me. I shrugged and started walking until I reached one of the giant blades. I placed a hand against it. It was cold, like touching an iceberg. I'm not sure what kind of steel it was made from, but I'm guessing iron. I turned back to where the spirit was floating.
“So who are you?” I asked.
I cocked its head again. I tried another time.
“What's your name?” I asked. “What do I call you?”
It looked to the blank sky, as if looking for an answer. Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
“How about Burner?” I asked.
It looked back at me when I said that.
“Burner?” It asked.
“I have to call you something, don't I?” I asked. “Burner seems fitting, right?”
It remained silent for a little while before giving a slow nod.
“So, why am I here?” I asked.
It cocked its head without speaking.
“Okay, well, can you at least tell me what you even are?” I asked. “Why the sword can catch fire, or teleport to me when I need it?”
Still no answers. It just kept its head cocked and stared at me. I slumped down, leaning against the flat side of the blade.
“Do you even know what you are?” I asked, a little exasperated.
“I do not,” it said.
“Well, that answers that,” I sighed. “Do you know who might?”
“The old one,” it said.
“Do you mean the Blind Man, or the Lovecraft old ones?” I asked.
It gave me another confused head cock.
“I'm just gonna assume you mean Blind Man,” I said.
It would make sense, considering the Blind Man is the one who gave me the sword. I continued to ask it questions, but I didn't get any answers other then head cocks and the occasional no. Eventually, I just stopped talking, and just sat in the cold water, letting the time pass. I soon became aware of another presence there.
“Who's that over there?” I asked, pointing to the new figure. It seemed to consist of an almost humanoid cloud of smoke, with a flickering mask hoving where the head should be. It just kind of wandered around, not really paying attention to either of us.
“Guilt,” the spirit said. “Pain. Remorse. Sadness. Entrapment.”
“Real helpful answers, bud,” I sighed. I mentally decided to call it Flicker, for now, for lack of anything better to call it. I just sat watching the smoky figure for a while until it wandered off beyond the range of my vision. Then I continued to sit there, until I woke up.
I was lying in the backseat of my new car, which was in motion. I sat up, and realized I was still holding on to my sword. Seraph was driving the car, and Abdalin was sitting in the passenger seat.
“How long have I been out?” I asked.
“Oh, thank god,” Seraph breathed. “We were worried sick about you.”
“Well, she was,” Abdalin replied. “You've been in a trance for about a week now.”
“So where are we now?” I asked.
“On the move,” Abdalin said.
“We had you at Kyle's for a few days,” Seraph said. “But we figured we should probably get a move on.”
“In case Damien or the Apostle's came back,” Abdalin said.
“And we're bringing Seraph along?” I asked.
Okay, I know Seraph can hold her own, but I didn't feel good bringing her along with me when there could be danger.
“I'm not staying behind this time, Daniel,” she insisted. “I'm coming with you."
“Okay,” I said. “That's fine.”
I sat up and checked my inventory. I had all my weapons back. Guess the others had picked things up.
“So what are the Apostles?” I asked Abdalin.
“Trouble,” he replied. “I don't know much about them, but we should try to avoid them.”
“Great,” I said. “So, where do we go from here?”
“For now, we keep moving,” Abdalin said. “We'll figure out where to go later.”
“What about Damien?” I asked. “Where'd he go? What were those things with him?”
“He got away,” Seraph said. “Slipped back into Bloody Hell.”
Bloody Hell's his domain, which he sort of usurped.
“Those things were monsters from Bloody Hell,” Abdalin said. “The humanoid ones were Greenmen. They normally look after themselves, but they can be bullied into servitude. William...”
He hesitated for a minute.
“William used to use them, sometimes,” he finally finished.
“And the other things?” I asked.
“Goatbats and Porcupine Snakes,” Abdalin said. “I think he had a Leocoyr too.”
You mean the giant lion thingy?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Abdalin said. “That.”
“We're gonna have to stop for gas soon,” Seraph said. “Why don't you relax for a bit?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Get me a soda when we stop?”
“Diet Dr. Pepper?” Seraph asked.
“That would be nice,” I replied.
“Sure thing,” she said.
So yeah, that's what happened. Gonna sign off now. I need to think some more.
“Why are you scared?” she asked.
“I'm not scared,” I replied. “A bit paranoid, yes, but I figure that should be understandable.”
“I wasn't referring to the frequent glances in every direction,” she said. “I was talking about you and me.”
“Wha?” I asked, a little dumbfounded.
“Whenever we're together, you act distant,” she said. “Hesitant. Why? Is it me?”
“What?” I said. “I'm not afraid of you.”
Which is rue. Yes, she's an ex-servant. Yes, she is a scaly snake girl. But I've never been afraid of her.
“Then what are you afraid of?” she asked, stopping me. “Something's bothering you, and I want to know what it is.”
I didn't say anything for a few seconds.
“Daniel?” she asked firmly. “What is it?”
“It's nothing,” I said, sighing. “Don't worry about it.”
“Daniel,” she said sternly. She had on an “I'm about to give you such a scolding” expression.
“Um, guys?” Kyle said. “I don't mean to interrupt your conversation, but have you noticed that-?”
“We're being followed?” Seraph finished for him.
“For at least two miles now,” I said, giving a slight nod. See, there's a reason I was paying so much attention to our surroundings. There were eyes in the bushes and trees, watching us as we walked.
“Okay, good,” Kyle said. “So I'm not crazy. So what's our course of action?”
“Same as I usually do things,” I said.
“Wait for them to make a move?” Seraph asked.
I nodded.
“Then get your Nightwing on?” Kyle continued.
“No,” I said. “This time it's Deadpool. I'm getting my Deadpool on.”
“You could never be Deadpool,” Seraph said, cracking a mocking grin.
“Yes I could!” I insisted. “I could totally be Deadpool!”
“Let's face it Daniel,” Kyle said. “Deadpool is more badass then you'll ever be.”
“Shut up!” I said.
“Seriously, though,” Seraph said. “It looks like trouble's about to start.”
She gestured behind me and I turned slightly. There, emerging from the shadows across the street, was Mute. That technopath I fought earlier.
“Mute,” I muttered.
“You mean the Technopath you fought earlier?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah, him,” I replied.
I turned to look down the street behind us, and before I knew it, a snide grin was creeping across my face. Another familiar figure was approaching us.
“Puppy Dog,” I said, letting out a chuckle.
“Um, Daniel?” Seraph asked, but I wasn't paying attention anymore.
I summoned my sheathed sword to my hand and began approaching him as well. He was a tall man, a couple inches above 6 feet if I had to guess, but I'm pretty sure he's at least a couple years younger than I am. He was dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, with the twin triangles, the symbol of the Archangel painted across the chest. He had dark hair that was died gray in the front, and his eyes were a bright blue. He had some stubble on his square chin, and he was decently muscular in stature. Across his back he had a sword, and in his right hand he carried a metal baseball bat. He had a combat knife clipped to his belt, and a sawed-off shotgun was holstered on one thigh, with a bayonet on his other thigh.
I was somewhat acquainted with this man. I don't remember our first fight very well, which I'm pretty sure is do to some mental manipulation. I know that I woke up afterwards in a church, having taken a beating. A series of burned cuts, arranged in the shape of the twin triangles, had been etched over my heart by this guy. Although I recovered from the other wounds he inflicted, those scars still remain. And when we met again, I made sure to give him a good ass-whooping.
We now stood a few feet apart from each other.
“Devil Killer,” he said, a little spitefully.
“Puppy Dog,” I said, returning the greeting.
Okay, I don't think that's his real name, but that's what I decided to call him, and he hasn't corrected me yet, so whatever.
“Daniel!” Kyle called to me. I turned to look at him and Seraph. Mute was standing a bit away from them, but he didn't seem hostile at the moment.
“You should be good,” I said. “It's me they want.”
As I said that, I looked into Seraph's eyes, tilted my head a bit, and twitched my cheek. She returned the signal. I was confident that they wouldn't get harmed, but I had given them warning to not take any chances and to make a break for it if things went downhill, and in the worst case scenario, to fight back. Seraph's more than just a pretty face. She's an ex-servant. She could hold her own if she had too. And Kyle had practiced a bit too.
“So, we doin' this or what?” I asked, turning back to Puppy Dog.
Instead of answering, he gripped his bat with both hands and entered a fighting stance. Then we attacked each other. I didn't unsheathe my sword at first. Instead, I kept it in my off hand and used it to deflect his first few attacks. Then I forced his weapon aside and punched him in the face. Then I gripped the hilt of my sword and swung it, still in its sheath, at him. He parried, and tried to hit me again. I dropped my weight quickly, so his attack passed over my head, and I smacked my sheathed sword into his knee. Then I shot back up, shouting “Dragon style, bitch!” and smacked him in the jaw with the sword's hilt. Then I spun around and swung my sheathed sword at him, but he managed to block that one. He drew back his bat, preparing to swing it. As he did, I slid into a stance, gripping my sword's sheath in my off hand, and the hilt in my main hand, and I proceeded to get my Virgil on. I've been practicing Iaijutsu a bit, and I've gotten fairly decent at it. As his bat came at me, I quickly drew the sword and slashed with it in one fluid motion, hitting his attacking hand and knocking the bat out of it. He stumbled back a bit, clutching his hand. I hadn't cut his flesh, but I still hurt him by doing that.
“So?” I asked, raising my sword. “You gonna stop holding back?”
“That depends,” he said, drawing his sword. “Are you?”
The sword this guy uses is a khopesh. It's an Egyptian bade, and is basically the closest you can get to wielding an ax without actually wielding an ax. The uniquely curved blade gives it a lot of an axes power without sacrificing the light weight of a sword.
We started swinging our swords at each other, repeatedly parrying each other's blows. It went on for a while before we somehow managed to disarm each other. I willed my sword to return to me, and it reappeared in my hand. I raised it to Puppy Dog's throat, then I heard something hit the ground over by the others. I turned my head to see that Mute had let his heavy coat fall to the ground to expose his gear, and he had extended his claws. He seemed ready to fire them at me, but he didn't get a chance. Seraph was on him too quickly. I don't get to see her fight much. It's a little scary when she does. She had him pinned to the ground in moments. I heard Puppy Dog moving, so I turned my attention back to him. He had drawn his shotgun and was about to take aim. I swung my sword at his shotgun, keeping it away from me. He pulled the trigger as I did, and a spray of shrapnel burst from one of the barrels. I had pushed the gun away just in time, so most of it hit the ground beside me, with a few fragments grazing my leg. He drew his bayonet and tried to slash at me with it, but I blocked with my sheath and kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him down. I returned my sword to its sheath and drew my own gun. As I did, he hooked the bayonet to the end of his shotgun and stood back up. We stood there for a second with our guns aimed at each other. We both froze, as a new presence filled the air.
Ten figures in dark clothes surrounded us. I didn't get a good look at all of them, but I could feel them.
Back when I had powers, I had a really strong sixth sense that came with them. I no longer had that sixth sense. Or, at least, it wasn't as strong any more, so I can't sense the Fears like I used to. But these people... The felt like a being I hadn't seen in over a year. A being that was supposed to be dead.
They felt just like the Archangel.
And they were standing in a circle around my friends and I. I had to act quickly. I threw myself to one side and fired my gun to the side of Puppy Dog's face, intentionally missing him. That had the effect I had hoped for; he was startled so badly he accidentally shot off (tee-hee) the other barrel of his shotgun into the empty space I had just been, rendering his weapon empty. It would take him a bit of time to reload. I quickly slid my gun across the ground over to Kyle, who dashed to pick it up, then I called Seraph's name and threw her my sword. Now they were at least armed. I then reached into my pocket and pulled out my brass knuckles, which I slipped onto my left hand. I then flipped open my new knife. I turned to keep my eyes on Puppy Dog while addressing the new-comers.
“Who the hell are you guys?” I demanded.
“Do not mind us,” Said a man, who I'm guessing was the leader. “My name is Adon, and we are the Apostles.”
“Apostles, huh” I said. “Never heard of you.”
Which isn't completely true. I had seen an Apostle Yu-Gi-Oh card once, but that's a story I don't care much for telling.
“That is how we prefer it,” Adon replied.
“We're a bit of a covert group,” another Apostle said.
“Even the Archive has little knowledge of us,” said another.
“So why make yourselves known now?” I asked.
“Ugh,” Puppy Dog sighed. “Because you forced their hand, you ass!”
“Hey, dude,” I said. “Language.”
Puppy Dog turned to address the Apostles.
“Stay back!” he demanded. Then he turned to me, allowing his shotgun to fall to the ground. He drew his knife, holding it in a reverse-grip before him. “He's mine.”
There was something off about the way he said that. Like something in the air shifted as he did. Something that made me wanna fight just as much as he did.
“Of course,” Adon said. “For now, we are just spectating.”
“But if you screw up, we'll kill him for you!” said a rather enthusiastic woman in the group.
“Please calm yourself, Lasciel,” Another man said. “The boy has got this.”
Okay, I know for a fact I've heard that guy's voice before. There was some strange power behind it.
Puppy Dog and I faced each other, and the fight continued. Now, there's a pretty big difference between sword fights and knife fights. You see, swords are big. Even shortswords are relatively large in comparison to daggers. Because of this, the can be countered easily if you know what you're doing. Knives are small. Which means you can't parry them nearly as easily. Additionally, their light weight makes them faster and easier to maneuver. Knife fights end quickly, because blocking them is hard as hell. Someone usually lands a finishing cut or stab pretty quickly.
We went at it, and we both got slashes in at each other's arms and chests, but the fight ended when I managed to plunge my own knife into his side. He cried out in pain, and I slammed my knuckles into his chin, knocking him out. I don't think the stab was a fatal one, but the blow to the jaw would keep him down for a while. The key to winning any fight is to be more aggressive then the other guy. It worked for me this time.
I took a few steps back and caught my breath. Adon nodded to one of the other Apostles, who stepped forward and knelt over Puppy Dog. He took a damp clothe and used it to apply pressure to his wound. Then, he slit his own thumb on Puppy Dog's knife and let a few drops of his blood drip into Puppy Dog's mouth.
I approached Adon, and as I did, I reached into my sock and drew the derringer I had tucked in there. None of the Apostles moved as I did. I stood a few feet away from Adon, and I took note of a few things. First of all, he had a large, curvy sword across his back. It gave off a sinister feeling that I've encountered before in three other swords. Well, technically two. Time travel shenanigans and whatnot. Secondly, he had a pendant in the shape of the twin triangles around his neck. Third, he wasn't breathing. At all. Fucking weird...
I shrugged all that off and looked Adon in the eyes.
“Look,” I said. “I don't want things to get any more violent then they already are. I'm sorry about what happened with the Archangel, but you have to understand that he was a monster. He attacked my friends. And my family. I did what I did to protect them.” I clutched the handle of my derringer. I had a feeling this speech would fall on deaf ears. “Are you really going to condemn me for that?”
Adon remained quiet for a moment, before turning to one of the Apostles, the one who I've heard speak before.
“Matthew,” he said. “If you will.”
The man nodded, then turned to me.
“Drop your knife, and your knuckles,” he said, that same power in his voice.
I did. The knife and brass knuckles clattered to the ground.
“Daniel!” Kyle said.
“Don't listen to him!” Seraph cried out.
“Tune them out,” Matthew said.
They continued to call out to me, but all I heard was dim background noise.
“Now, I want you to raise that gun to your temple,” Matthew continued.
I slowly did, and the background noise of my friends grew louder, more urgent. I tried to listen, but something wouldn't let me. I couldn't make out what was being said to me. Suddenly, I felt the familiar wooden sheath of my sword in my free hand, and I gripped it. I hadn't summoned it, but sometimes it acts on its own.
“Drop that sword,” Matthew said. “Now.”
I couldn't. My hand just gripped it tighter, rebelling against the order.
“Very well,” Matthew said. “In that case, pull the trigger.”
My index finger found the trigger. The sounds my friends were making were louder then ever, but I still couldn't quite make them out. I started to gently squeeze.
“Master. Your will is stronger then this.”
A single voice had broken through. I looked past Adon, and saw it there. A muscular, spectral being. It's form was blurred, and difficult to make out, but the glowing red eyes were clear as day. I could see them in impossible detail, despite the being's distance from me. It was the spirit of my sword. I had heard its voice a few times, but I had only seen it once, right before I killed Red Daniel. Now I saw it again, and common sense suddenly screamed “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT GUN TO YOUR HEAD!!!”
I narrowed my eyes and glared at Adon. These motherfuckers were brainwashing me! Oh, hell no.
Adon's eyes widened in shock as I turned my gun to him.
“Embrace whatever's left of your master!” I hissed.
I pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit him right in the forehead. His head snapped back, but to my surprise, he didn't go down. His pendant began glowing with a red light, which began to crawl over his body. He turned his head back up to face me, and the bullet wound closed up instantly. The red light faded away.
“No one has ever ignored Matt Onre's orders,” he said. “What are you?”
“You know damn well what I am,” I said, to everyone there. I was pissed, and I made sure they knew by my tone of voice. “I am Daniel Xavier Ferris. I am the man who killed the Archangel, your god! I am a god damn Devil Killer! I am-”
Before I could finish my badass boast, a portal of red light split open several yards behind Adon, and a few feet up in the air. I had seen such a portal before, and I knew exactly what would be coming out of it soon.
“I am so fucked,” I said.
A man riding a solid steel bike shot from the portal, skidding to a halt in the middle of the circle of Apostles. He wore clothing that was stained red by human blood. His long hair and eyes were red as well, and a pair of glowing pentagrams were etched into his pupils. A massive falchion was strapped across his back, and a satanic looking goatee was growing from his chin.
More portals began opening, and creatures began coming through. I didn't get a proper headcount of them, but there were quite a few small goblin-like creatures, a handful of goats with bat wings, a couple large snakes with hedgehog-like quills growing from them, and one creature that looked like a lion, with massive, boar-like tusks, and golden, lobster-like armor coating its back. Denizens of Bloody Hell. They began engaging the Apostles, who were now fully distracted by the legion of monsters the Biker had brought with him.
“Hello, Daniel,” the man said, stepping off his bike and facing me.
“Hey, Damien,” I said, sporting the cockiest grin I could pull off at the time. “The evil beard's coming in nice.”
Damien Monroe. The Bloody Biker, and ruler of Bloody Hell. He was human, once, but some Archive experimentation combined with power given to him by the Game Master had made him a super-powered demi-god. Amongst his abilities, he had super strength, super speed, a large amount of metal that he had control over, and the ability to rearrange his atoms however the fuck he wants. Oh, and apparently he's immortal. I shot him in the head once. And about a year ago, I discovered he survived, and I've clashed with him twice since then. Barely survived each encounter. He also has a thing for rivalry, and can invoke it in others. Which would explain why Puppy Dog an I were so intent to fight each other uninterrupted. He had turned up the heat on our rivalry.
“I'm a little disappointed you resisted that guy's control,” he said. “You could have learned just how painful a bullet to the bloody head can be.”
“Oh, you're not still upset about that whole thing, are you?” I said. “I didn't shoot you that hard, did I?”
“You've upped the snark a bit since last time,” he said. “I hope you've said your goodbyes, cuz I'm about to send you to see our old friend Benny.”
Oh, yeah, he used to Malkator's archenemy. Long story.
He fired an energy blast from his hand, which I dodged by a hair.
“Since when do you fire energy blasts?” I asked.
“I've gotten a bit better with my powers,” he said.
His eyes glowed, and beams of crimson light fired from them. I drew my sword, which caught fire, and deflected the beams with it.
“Lasers from your fucking eyes!” I shouted, losing my cool a bit. “Are you freaking kidding me!?”
“Sod the hell off!” Damien exclaimed, drawing his sword and charging at me. I engaged him, but I had already worn myself out quite a bit. Out sword fight ended pretty quickly, with me being knocked to the ground. He stood over me, falchion in hand.
“It's over,” he said, smiling cruelly.
Then the tip of PR24 nightstick erupted from his solar plexus. He gasped in pain, then looked over his shoulder. I got to my feet as fast as I could to see that Abdalin had appeared directly behind Daien and plunged his nightstick through him from behind.
“Oh, well hello, Abdalin,” Damien growled.
“Goodbye, Damien,” Abdalin said, pulling his nightstick back out and smacking Damien with it. Damien went down, but before he fell unconscious, he fired another energy blast. I failed to dodge this time, and was thrown backwards by the force.
The first thing I remember after that was water. I was lying on my back, in about three inches of it. I opened my eyes to see nothing but white above me. I sat up slowly. I was in a strange place. The sky was like an empty white canvas, and the ground, as far as I could see, was a sheet of cold metal with a few inches of water on top of it. A number of giant katana blades grew from the ground, reaching up into the sky like huge spires. I brushed my shoulder to try and get some of the water off, only to find that it was completely dry. Not a drop of water on me. When I stood up, I saw that the water, instead of clinging to my skin and soaking into my clothes, simply drip right back to the ground. Weird...
I looked around some more and I saw the spirit of my sword floating a few yards from me, just watching.
“Oh,” I said. “It's you.”
It nodded.
“So what is this place?” I asked.
“Me,” it answered simply.
“This place is you” I asked.
It nodded again.
“Seems a bit wet for a fire elemental, doesn't it?” I asked.
It cocked its head, as if it didn't understand me. I shrugged and started walking until I reached one of the giant blades. I placed a hand against it. It was cold, like touching an iceberg. I'm not sure what kind of steel it was made from, but I'm guessing iron. I turned back to where the spirit was floating.
“So who are you?” I asked.
I cocked its head again. I tried another time.
“What's your name?” I asked. “What do I call you?”
It looked to the blank sky, as if looking for an answer. Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
“How about Burner?” I asked.
It looked back at me when I said that.
“Burner?” It asked.
“I have to call you something, don't I?” I asked. “Burner seems fitting, right?”
It remained silent for a little while before giving a slow nod.
“So, why am I here?” I asked.
It cocked its head without speaking.
“Okay, well, can you at least tell me what you even are?” I asked. “Why the sword can catch fire, or teleport to me when I need it?”
Still no answers. It just kept its head cocked and stared at me. I slumped down, leaning against the flat side of the blade.
“Do you even know what you are?” I asked, a little exasperated.
“I do not,” it said.
“Well, that answers that,” I sighed. “Do you know who might?”
“The old one,” it said.
“Do you mean the Blind Man, or the Lovecraft old ones?” I asked.
It gave me another confused head cock.
“I'm just gonna assume you mean Blind Man,” I said.
It would make sense, considering the Blind Man is the one who gave me the sword. I continued to ask it questions, but I didn't get any answers other then head cocks and the occasional no. Eventually, I just stopped talking, and just sat in the cold water, letting the time pass. I soon became aware of another presence there.
“Who's that over there?” I asked, pointing to the new figure. It seemed to consist of an almost humanoid cloud of smoke, with a flickering mask hoving where the head should be. It just kind of wandered around, not really paying attention to either of us.
“Guilt,” the spirit said. “Pain. Remorse. Sadness. Entrapment.”
“Real helpful answers, bud,” I sighed. I mentally decided to call it Flicker, for now, for lack of anything better to call it. I just sat watching the smoky figure for a while until it wandered off beyond the range of my vision. Then I continued to sit there, until I woke up.
I was lying in the backseat of my new car, which was in motion. I sat up, and realized I was still holding on to my sword. Seraph was driving the car, and Abdalin was sitting in the passenger seat.
“How long have I been out?” I asked.
“Oh, thank god,” Seraph breathed. “We were worried sick about you.”
“Well, she was,” Abdalin replied. “You've been in a trance for about a week now.”
“So where are we now?” I asked.
“On the move,” Abdalin said.
“We had you at Kyle's for a few days,” Seraph said. “But we figured we should probably get a move on.”
“In case Damien or the Apostle's came back,” Abdalin said.
“And we're bringing Seraph along?” I asked.
Okay, I know Seraph can hold her own, but I didn't feel good bringing her along with me when there could be danger.
“I'm not staying behind this time, Daniel,” she insisted. “I'm coming with you."
“Okay,” I said. “That's fine.”
I sat up and checked my inventory. I had all my weapons back. Guess the others had picked things up.
“So what are the Apostles?” I asked Abdalin.
“Trouble,” he replied. “I don't know much about them, but we should try to avoid them.”
“Great,” I said. “So, where do we go from here?”
“For now, we keep moving,” Abdalin said. “We'll figure out where to go later.”
“What about Damien?” I asked. “Where'd he go? What were those things with him?”
“He got away,” Seraph said. “Slipped back into Bloody Hell.”
Bloody Hell's his domain, which he sort of usurped.
“Those things were monsters from Bloody Hell,” Abdalin said. “The humanoid ones were Greenmen. They normally look after themselves, but they can be bullied into servitude. William...”
He hesitated for a minute.
“William used to use them, sometimes,” he finally finished.
“And the other things?” I asked.
“Goatbats and Porcupine Snakes,” Abdalin said. “I think he had a Leocoyr too.”
You mean the giant lion thingy?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Abdalin said. “That.”
“We're gonna have to stop for gas soon,” Seraph said. “Why don't you relax for a bit?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Get me a soda when we stop?”
“Diet Dr. Pepper?” Seraph asked.
“That would be nice,” I replied.
“Sure thing,” she said.
So yeah, that's what happened. Gonna sign off now. I need to think some more.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
The Angel's Best
I sat in my room, meditating. It wasn't long before I received an unwanted guest.
“Is this a bad time?” asked a cocky, malevolent voice from the other side of the room.
“With you, Jack,” I said, opening my eyes, “It's always a bad time. The fuck do you want.
“Wish HELLFIRE was here,” he said softly. “Anyway, would you like to know something of the flare your other self ignited?”
“What spark?” I asked.
“A group of individuals, who up til recently have remained hidden from the public,” Jack said. “A covert legion which has been forced to play their hand.”
“Who are we talking about here?” I asked.
“The Angel's best,” Jack said. “You might wanna go find the other you. They're about to kill him.”
“Where?” I demanded.
“Not telling,” he said, grinning like the smug asshole he is.
“You know, in my timeline, you die,” I said.
That got a small frown out of him.
“Can't wait to see it happen again,” I said, before vanishing into the Godsway.
I arrived in Murrieta, next to Kyle's house. Daniel wasn't there, and neither were Kyle, Abdalin, and Seraph. I tried my parent's house. Or, Daniel's parent's house. Whatever... Weren't there either. Tried the place Daniel used to rent a room from, and Tony's mom's house, and Daniel's hideout. Not at any of those places. At a loss for anywhere else to check, I went to the church. Going there gives me a chill. A lot has happened to Daniel there. A lot more is still to happen. I remember. Things go worse here. That destiny is unlikely to change.
No one was there. I stood in silence for a while, before I heard something. The sound of a clip being loaded into a machine gun.
I turned just in time to see a man holding a sub-machine gun taking aim in my direction. I vanished before he started firing and reappeared behind him. He turned right as I appeared and opened fire. I vanished again, appearing inside the church.
I hadn't been quick enough. 3 bullets had tore through me, and I was bleeding. I sucked it up. They hadn't hit anything important. I could live. I just had to close the wounds. I slipped off my coat, then I tapped into the Bride's power, setting my hand on fire. I grabbed at the bullet wounds, burning them shut. Hurt like all hell, but they wouldn't bleed out. The man with the machine gun stepped through the door, and I was read for him. I shot the largest burst of flames I could conjure right at him. But he was ready too, apparently. An inky blackness slithered over his skin as the flames hit, and they did nothing to him. He slumped down a little, as if tired, but his body was completely unharmed. He rose his gun again and squeezed the trigger. I teleported above his head, but before I had stepped into the Godsway, he had already drawn a sidearm and turned a bit. As I appeared, he aimed the pistol and fired, hitting me in the shoulder. The impact threw me off, and I hit the ground next to him. He turned and aimed the machine gun. I teleported beneath us, into the cavern's below the church. There was a bit on light coming from a trapdoor a distance away from me leading up to the church stage. The remnants of an alter, which had been slashed in two with a sword, stood a ways away from me. I cauterized my newest bullet wound and stood up. I was suddenly standing face to face with another man. He grabbed me by the throat and dragged me into a world of blackness. We weren't there long, as we soon ended up back outside the church. The man holding me released me as the man with the guns took aim. The man from the caverns raised a hand to stop him.
“I'll take it from here, Joseph,” he said.
“Whatever,” the other man, Joseph, said, putting his guns away.
“Who are you people?” I demanded, raising my sword.
“Well, I'm Nick Wells,” the man from the cavern said. “That there is Joey Krell. We're here to kill you till you're dead.”
“Kinda guessed that,” I said.
He swung his weapon at me. It wasn't a normal weapon. It was some kind of circular blade, fixed to a golden chain. Sort of like a whip. Now, whips aren't that easy to use as weapons. It's not as easy as Indiana Jones makes it look. You need a LOT of practice to work with them. This guy must have practice a ton. He used his weapon expertly. He cut through my left bicep with his first swing, embedded it in my gut with his second swing, then yanked it out and lassoed me around the throat the third time. As the circular item at the end wizzed by my face, I caught a glimpse of what was on it. It was the twin triangles. Shit. These were the people Jack mentioned. The Archangel's best.
I was in pain, but I fought through it and focused. I was surrounded by a swarm of razor edged petals, that cut through the chain like it was silk, and I yanked off what was still around my neck. I thrust my sword at him, but he caught it in his hand and wrenched my arm to the side, striking me in the gut, where his weapon had hit before. I went down.
He picked up the pieces of his chain, and an orb of glowing light engulfed them. When it faded, the chain was whole again. Weird, but I tried not to let it distract me. I lifted my hand and fired a burst of flames at him. He ducked his head into his coat as I did, and he was swept off his feet by the blast. He landed and got back to his feet, brushing the fire off his coat like it was nothing.
“Fire proof clothes,” he said. “We know all of your tricks.”
His chain coiled around my sword arm as he dragged me toward him and kicked me in the gut.
“That's why Joseph could predict your moves,” he said.
He smacked me in the face, knocking me down.
“We are the Apostle's,” he said. “We're ready for whatever gets thrown at us.”
I vanished. Going through the Godsway with that many injuries is painful, but I had few options. I appeared out of range of his chain and focused on a chunk of the churches broken wall, lifting it into the air with my mind.
“You ready for this!?” I snarled, preparing to hurl it at him.
I was silenced when a bullet tore through my chest. Joseph had drawn his sidearm and shot me. I fell down, and let the stone fall. It hadn't been a kill shot. It had hit me right below the heart. I would bleed to death. Slowly.
“I had that,” Nick said, annoyed.
“Saw a shot,” Joseph replied. “I took it.”
“Well, at least he's still alive,” Nick said. He approached me and grabbed my hand. “I can have some fun while he bleeds out.”
He broke my fingers. All of them on my right hand. Fuck. At that point I decided screw this, I'm out. I slipped into the Godsway, painfully, and returned to my room. I could barely move. Both my hands were next to useless, but I tried using them anyway. I reached under my mattress and grabbed my Medicine. I bit the cap off the syringe, with some effort. I tapped into the Red Cap's power, making my pain somewhat bearable. Then I plunged the syringe into my leg and injected the Medicine into my bloodstream.
My entire body began burning. All I could feel was pain, and no amount of Masochism could save me. I didn't pass out fast enough. I stuck in screaming agony for a few seconds that felt like an eternity before I was finally caressed by sweet comatose.
I awoke several hours later, still in pain. The first thing I did was call Daniel, to see if he was safe from the Apostles. They're unlike anything I've fought before. Cold. Skilled. Efficient. Deadly. I can't believe I'm saying this about humans, but they scare me.
Daniel didn't answer. And he complains that I don't answer his calls... I'm gonna go out and look for him once the Medicine finishes its work. It'll take a while before I'm back to full strength. Until then, all I can do is hope he's all right.
Another thing I feel I should mention. When I woke up, I found my discarded sword and coat folded on my mattress, with a note saying Don't leave things lying around. You may need these later. The note was signed with two words. The Backer. I don't know who that is, but I have a feeling it's not gonna be good.
“Is this a bad time?” asked a cocky, malevolent voice from the other side of the room.
“With you, Jack,” I said, opening my eyes, “It's always a bad time. The fuck do you want.
“Wish HELLFIRE was here,” he said softly. “Anyway, would you like to know something of the flare your other self ignited?”
“What spark?” I asked.
“A group of individuals, who up til recently have remained hidden from the public,” Jack said. “A covert legion which has been forced to play their hand.”
“Who are we talking about here?” I asked.
“The Angel's best,” Jack said. “You might wanna go find the other you. They're about to kill him.”
“Where?” I demanded.
“Not telling,” he said, grinning like the smug asshole he is.
“You know, in my timeline, you die,” I said.
That got a small frown out of him.
“Can't wait to see it happen again,” I said, before vanishing into the Godsway.
I arrived in Murrieta, next to Kyle's house. Daniel wasn't there, and neither were Kyle, Abdalin, and Seraph. I tried my parent's house. Or, Daniel's parent's house. Whatever... Weren't there either. Tried the place Daniel used to rent a room from, and Tony's mom's house, and Daniel's hideout. Not at any of those places. At a loss for anywhere else to check, I went to the church. Going there gives me a chill. A lot has happened to Daniel there. A lot more is still to happen. I remember. Things go worse here. That destiny is unlikely to change.
No one was there. I stood in silence for a while, before I heard something. The sound of a clip being loaded into a machine gun.
I turned just in time to see a man holding a sub-machine gun taking aim in my direction. I vanished before he started firing and reappeared behind him. He turned right as I appeared and opened fire. I vanished again, appearing inside the church.
I hadn't been quick enough. 3 bullets had tore through me, and I was bleeding. I sucked it up. They hadn't hit anything important. I could live. I just had to close the wounds. I slipped off my coat, then I tapped into the Bride's power, setting my hand on fire. I grabbed at the bullet wounds, burning them shut. Hurt like all hell, but they wouldn't bleed out. The man with the machine gun stepped through the door, and I was read for him. I shot the largest burst of flames I could conjure right at him. But he was ready too, apparently. An inky blackness slithered over his skin as the flames hit, and they did nothing to him. He slumped down a little, as if tired, but his body was completely unharmed. He rose his gun again and squeezed the trigger. I teleported above his head, but before I had stepped into the Godsway, he had already drawn a sidearm and turned a bit. As I appeared, he aimed the pistol and fired, hitting me in the shoulder. The impact threw me off, and I hit the ground next to him. He turned and aimed the machine gun. I teleported beneath us, into the cavern's below the church. There was a bit on light coming from a trapdoor a distance away from me leading up to the church stage. The remnants of an alter, which had been slashed in two with a sword, stood a ways away from me. I cauterized my newest bullet wound and stood up. I was suddenly standing face to face with another man. He grabbed me by the throat and dragged me into a world of blackness. We weren't there long, as we soon ended up back outside the church. The man holding me released me as the man with the guns took aim. The man from the caverns raised a hand to stop him.
“I'll take it from here, Joseph,” he said.
“Whatever,” the other man, Joseph, said, putting his guns away.
“Who are you people?” I demanded, raising my sword.
“Well, I'm Nick Wells,” the man from the cavern said. “That there is Joey Krell. We're here to kill you till you're dead.”
“Kinda guessed that,” I said.
He swung his weapon at me. It wasn't a normal weapon. It was some kind of circular blade, fixed to a golden chain. Sort of like a whip. Now, whips aren't that easy to use as weapons. It's not as easy as Indiana Jones makes it look. You need a LOT of practice to work with them. This guy must have practice a ton. He used his weapon expertly. He cut through my left bicep with his first swing, embedded it in my gut with his second swing, then yanked it out and lassoed me around the throat the third time. As the circular item at the end wizzed by my face, I caught a glimpse of what was on it. It was the twin triangles. Shit. These were the people Jack mentioned. The Archangel's best.
I was in pain, but I fought through it and focused. I was surrounded by a swarm of razor edged petals, that cut through the chain like it was silk, and I yanked off what was still around my neck. I thrust my sword at him, but he caught it in his hand and wrenched my arm to the side, striking me in the gut, where his weapon had hit before. I went down.
He picked up the pieces of his chain, and an orb of glowing light engulfed them. When it faded, the chain was whole again. Weird, but I tried not to let it distract me. I lifted my hand and fired a burst of flames at him. He ducked his head into his coat as I did, and he was swept off his feet by the blast. He landed and got back to his feet, brushing the fire off his coat like it was nothing.
“Fire proof clothes,” he said. “We know all of your tricks.”
His chain coiled around my sword arm as he dragged me toward him and kicked me in the gut.
“That's why Joseph could predict your moves,” he said.
He smacked me in the face, knocking me down.
“We are the Apostle's,” he said. “We're ready for whatever gets thrown at us.”
I vanished. Going through the Godsway with that many injuries is painful, but I had few options. I appeared out of range of his chain and focused on a chunk of the churches broken wall, lifting it into the air with my mind.
“You ready for this!?” I snarled, preparing to hurl it at him.
I was silenced when a bullet tore through my chest. Joseph had drawn his sidearm and shot me. I fell down, and let the stone fall. It hadn't been a kill shot. It had hit me right below the heart. I would bleed to death. Slowly.
“I had that,” Nick said, annoyed.
“Saw a shot,” Joseph replied. “I took it.”
“Well, at least he's still alive,” Nick said. He approached me and grabbed my hand. “I can have some fun while he bleeds out.”
He broke my fingers. All of them on my right hand. Fuck. At that point I decided screw this, I'm out. I slipped into the Godsway, painfully, and returned to my room. I could barely move. Both my hands were next to useless, but I tried using them anyway. I reached under my mattress and grabbed my Medicine. I bit the cap off the syringe, with some effort. I tapped into the Red Cap's power, making my pain somewhat bearable. Then I plunged the syringe into my leg and injected the Medicine into my bloodstream.
My entire body began burning. All I could feel was pain, and no amount of Masochism could save me. I didn't pass out fast enough. I stuck in screaming agony for a few seconds that felt like an eternity before I was finally caressed by sweet comatose.
I awoke several hours later, still in pain. The first thing I did was call Daniel, to see if he was safe from the Apostles. They're unlike anything I've fought before. Cold. Skilled. Efficient. Deadly. I can't believe I'm saying this about humans, but they scare me.
Daniel didn't answer. And he complains that I don't answer his calls... I'm gonna go out and look for him once the Medicine finishes its work. It'll take a while before I'm back to full strength. Until then, all I can do is hope he's all right.
Another thing I feel I should mention. When I woke up, I found my discarded sword and coat folded on my mattress, with a note saying Don't leave things lying around. You may need these later. The note was signed with two words. The Backer. I don't know who that is, but I have a feeling it's not gonna be good.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
The Panopticon
Sorry it's been so long. Haven't felt like updating. So Keursio and I made it to Tennessee and started staking out the Panopticon building. You'd think they'd pick a better place to set up business then God damn Tennessee...
Nothing happened for a long time. After a while, Keursio decided to watch the building herself while I went down to Kentucky to look into that kid's missing mom. I got to the town, and investigated what I could. The Sam's Club and the McDonald's didn't have much to go on, but I did find the graffiti he mentioned. There was a very large symbol, shaped like a stylized A inside of a circle of ruins. I snapped a photo, and I'm gonna see if I can find anything about it. I couldn't find anything on the Camper though. I'll have to call around, see if anyone knows anything.
I drove back up to meet with Keursio, and returned to staking out the building. She's being surprisingly patient for someone who's sister went missing.
It wasn't until a week ago that something finally happened. While we were watching the building from a discreet hiding spot, we watched a van pull up. It was late, and no one else was out. The driver and passenger unloaded a young man, bound in a straight jacket and under the influence of something, out of the back of the truck and escorted him inside. I told Keursio to wait while I went in. No one was standing guard. I just went in and stuck to the shadows, following the three men. The Driver and Passenger escorted the drugged man into a small room. They left the door open a crack. I peered in. I wasn't prepared for what I saw.
They strapped the young man down to a medical table, like something you'd see in a Frankenstein movie. There was some kind of machine on a table next to him, and sitting behind him was a new man. He was at least mid-thirties, with gray/blonde hair and twinkling eyes, and very slight age lines on his cheekbones. He wore a white lab coat.
“Hello, Mr. Kent,” he said to the young man. “My name is professor Meilleur Monde. I would like to speak to you about the things you've seen.”
“You mean the monsters?” Kent asked.
“Yes,” Monde replied. “I'd like you to tell me about them.”
“There's... there's this dog!” Kent said. “It has these eyes. They're bright red. No, they're dark red! Nott bright, but dark! They see. They See!”
“Please,” Monde said. “Continue.”
“The bug,” Kent stammered. “Too many. Too in sync. Too orderly to be actual bug!”
“Go on,” Monde urged.
This went on for a while. Over that time, Kent described no less than twelve Fears. He even described one I had never heard of. Something about a forest. At the end of it, Monde sighed calmly and smiled at Kent.
“Well, Mr. Kent, after everything I've heard from you, I believe I have some good news,” he said.
“R-Really” Kent said.
“Of course,” Monde said. “You see, these monsters are nothing more that hallucinations.”
“What?” Kent asked.
“Why don't you tell me about your past,” Monde said. “Your relationship with your parents. Past lovers. Role models. Many elements of your upbringing could influence your mind, causing you do develop various forms of psychosis.”
“No,” Kent said. “They're real! I know they are.”
“But they aren't,” Monde said. “It was an event in your past that causes you to imagine these phantoms.”
“That's not true!” Kent screamed. “They're real! I saw them! I Saw them!”
Monde sighed.
“I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this,” he said. “Put the Diadem on him.”
One of the other men grabbed a high tech head circlet that was hooked up to the machine by them, and tightened it around Kent's head. Monde grabbed an identical headset and put it on himself.
“What is this” Kent demanded.
“A link,” Monde said. “Between your mind and mine. You are going to stop believing these nonsensical fairy tails. One way or another.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit. He was gonna wipe Kent's memories. Brainwash him in order to suppress the knowledge of the Fears. I had to stop him. I opened the door, tazer drawn, and charged in exactly like Daniel would. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't aware of another man standing just inside the door, who stuck his leg out and tripped me on his way in. I hit the ground pretty hard, and the man who tripped me grabbed me by the arm and forced me to my feet. Monde was completely un-phased by what had happened.
“Hold on, Mr. Helioson,” he said calmly. “I'm almost done with this appointment.”
Kent began struggling, then convulsing against the table, before fainting. Monde took his circlet thing off and turned to me.
“You're gonna do the same to me, aren't you” I asked. “You're gonna make me forget the truth.”
“What truth?” Monde said, smiling. “Surely you don't believe any of the things that have occurred.”
“Fuck off,” I growled.
“You must know that Daniel has been lying to you,” he continued. “Everything was just a game he created to fool with your mind. He looks down on you.”
“No he doesn't,” I said adamantly. “I've seen enough to know it's real. Malkator, Isaac, Estren and HELLFIRE...”
“All accomplisses of Daniel's,” Monde said. He contacted them years ago to take part in this elaborate prank of his. Those superpowers you've seen were all an act.”
“As if!” I said. “You haven't see the things Daniel is capable of!”
“Cheap theatrics,” Monde said. “Anyone with the right resources could accomplish those things.”
“I watched Benjamin Malkator eat people!” I snapped. “I've had Isaac O'Zalia inside my head! Explain that!”
“Have you honestly fallen for smoke-and-mirrors?” he asked me. “Such simple deceptions? It has all been a lie.”
“You expect me to believe that Daniel's invested this much time and money into an elaborate prank like this?” I demanded.
“Is it really so hard to believe?” he said. “Didn't you two start off as enemies in middle school? It wasn't until you came to him and extended the hand of friendship that he accepted you, and even then, he never saw you as a friend. It was just a game to him. You're nothing to him but-”
He was interrupted when a loogie that may or may not have come from my mouth hit him directly in the eye. He stopped mid sentence and wiped it from his eye.
“Strap him up,” he ordered, without breaking that annoying calm of his. The man holding me began pushing me toward the machine, and the other two got Kent off the table. At this distance, I could see the company logo on the side of the machine.
“Stop it!” I demanded. “Let me go!”
“I'm sorry,” Monde said, as I was strapped to the table. “But you must learn that the Fears do not exist. We live in the best of all possible worlds. There is nothing supernatural about it.”
“All right then, you French dickhead,” said a familiar, distorted voice from the far side of the room, opposite the door. “If that's true, then explain me.”
A ghostly man stood there. He was at least thirty in appearance, with long hair that seemed to be devoid of color. And I don't mean black or white, I mean that color literally didn't exist in his hair. He was dressed in 13th Century garments, and his left eye was an orb of color-shifting light. His right eye was completely missing, replaced by a vertical, badly healed scar. The ghost of thew Ace Of Chaos, Marshall Smith, had joined us in the room. Everyone except for Monde was startled by his presence. He began walking forward, his feet remaining a few inches above the ground, and he spoke to Monde.
“Am I but an optical illusion?” he asked. “A product of prestidigitation? A seed of insanity? Light reflecting off of fog Tell me, Meilleur Monde, what am I, and more importantly, why are you listening to me when you should be paying attention to the sorceress who just walked through the door?”
On cue, Keursio ran in and in a flash of movement and light, she knocked out all the men except for Monde, who for the first time that night displayed a look of genuine surprise. Keursio freed me from my bonds, and I immediately picked Kent's unconscious body off the floor and tried to support him underneath one of his shoulders. Keursio got his other side, and we lifted him up.
“Get out of here,” Marshall told us sternly. We didn't need telling twice. We bailed.
On the way out, I heard Monde yell “It's all a lie! Daniel can't be trusted!” at me. I ignored him and kept moving.
We got in the car and started driving, with Kent in the back seat. We drove in silence for a while before Keursio spoke up.
“You don't believe what he said about Daniel, do you” she asked.
“No, I don't,” I said.
“Because I spent 300 years in a literal hell!” she said. “The thought that anything that's happened could be some guy's idea of a prank is just plain bulls-”
“I know!” I snapped. “Daniel's my friend, and I trust him! I know Monde's lying.”
“I'm sorry,” Keursio asked. “It's just that you were so quiet. I thought he might have gotten to you.”
“No, he didn't,” I said, gripping the wheel a bit too tightly.
We stayed quiet for a minute before before I said anything else.
“You know what I find funny?” I asked.
“What?” she replied.
“Why would Dr. Welric, a scientist who's company focuses on the construction of unique weaponry, build a machine to link two people's minds together?” I said.
“What?” she asked.
“Sound's dad,” I said. “He built the Sonic Swords, and all kinds of other stuff. His company's logo was on the Panopticon's machine.”
“Really?” she asked.
“I've looked into them before,” I said. “Stirem Inc.”
“That company built the Panopticon's machine,” she said thoughtfully.
“Not to mention Dr. Welric was one of the Game Master's men,” I said. “Think there's a connection between him and the Panopticon?”
“I wouldn't rule it out,” she said.
“Neither would I.”
We got back to the hotel. I palmed the piece of chain in my pocket. I needed the feeling it gave me. We picked up Kent and carried him to the door, trying not to be seen. We opened the hotel door, and a breeze came in. I had been looking over the pictures from Drake's room on the desk, and the wind slid them around a bit before we shut the door. We lay Kent down on the bed. He's woken up since then, but hasn't spoken much to us, other then a polite thank you and some short sentences. I hoping he'll open up soon. Anyway, after setting him down, I went to straighten up the papers. That's when I noticed something.
As I mentioned, the papers are thin enough that you can almost see through them. So, if you stack two papers on top of each other, you can see what's on the bottom paper, provided the light's right. The way the wind had blown them, the numerous papers were arranged so that the lines and curves on them almost formed a symbol. I adjusted them a bit until they resembled a somewhat crude drawing of the graffiti A symbol I had snapped a photo of before. Now I knew it wasn't a coincidence.
Keursio looked over my shoulder, and took a deep gulp upon seeing the picture.
“Do you recognize this?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “From when I was in hell.”
“What is it” I asked, nervously.
“The symbol of Azail the Enabler,” she said weakly. “One of the ten Daemon Lords.”
The words of HELLFIRE and Myrir came back to me.
“Go to hell. Maybe they'd have an answer there.”
“Demonology. Look into it.”
It was then that I realized exactly how fucked I was. I wasn't about to jump to conclusions without more facts, but if my suspicions are right, then Drake Thorne and that kid's mother weren't kidnapped by Fears, or even servants.
They were in the hands of a motherfucking Daemon.
-Tony Helioson, signing out
Nothing happened for a long time. After a while, Keursio decided to watch the building herself while I went down to Kentucky to look into that kid's missing mom. I got to the town, and investigated what I could. The Sam's Club and the McDonald's didn't have much to go on, but I did find the graffiti he mentioned. There was a very large symbol, shaped like a stylized A inside of a circle of ruins. I snapped a photo, and I'm gonna see if I can find anything about it. I couldn't find anything on the Camper though. I'll have to call around, see if anyone knows anything.
I drove back up to meet with Keursio, and returned to staking out the building. She's being surprisingly patient for someone who's sister went missing.
It wasn't until a week ago that something finally happened. While we were watching the building from a discreet hiding spot, we watched a van pull up. It was late, and no one else was out. The driver and passenger unloaded a young man, bound in a straight jacket and under the influence of something, out of the back of the truck and escorted him inside. I told Keursio to wait while I went in. No one was standing guard. I just went in and stuck to the shadows, following the three men. The Driver and Passenger escorted the drugged man into a small room. They left the door open a crack. I peered in. I wasn't prepared for what I saw.
They strapped the young man down to a medical table, like something you'd see in a Frankenstein movie. There was some kind of machine on a table next to him, and sitting behind him was a new man. He was at least mid-thirties, with gray/blonde hair and twinkling eyes, and very slight age lines on his cheekbones. He wore a white lab coat.
“Hello, Mr. Kent,” he said to the young man. “My name is professor Meilleur Monde. I would like to speak to you about the things you've seen.”
“You mean the monsters?” Kent asked.
“Yes,” Monde replied. “I'd like you to tell me about them.”
“There's... there's this dog!” Kent said. “It has these eyes. They're bright red. No, they're dark red! Nott bright, but dark! They see. They See!”
“Please,” Monde said. “Continue.”
“The bug,” Kent stammered. “Too many. Too in sync. Too orderly to be actual bug!”
“Go on,” Monde urged.
This went on for a while. Over that time, Kent described no less than twelve Fears. He even described one I had never heard of. Something about a forest. At the end of it, Monde sighed calmly and smiled at Kent.
“Well, Mr. Kent, after everything I've heard from you, I believe I have some good news,” he said.
“R-Really” Kent said.
“Of course,” Monde said. “You see, these monsters are nothing more that hallucinations.”
“What?” Kent asked.
“Why don't you tell me about your past,” Monde said. “Your relationship with your parents. Past lovers. Role models. Many elements of your upbringing could influence your mind, causing you do develop various forms of psychosis.”
“No,” Kent said. “They're real! I know they are.”
“But they aren't,” Monde said. “It was an event in your past that causes you to imagine these phantoms.”
“That's not true!” Kent screamed. “They're real! I saw them! I Saw them!”
Monde sighed.
“I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this,” he said. “Put the Diadem on him.”
One of the other men grabbed a high tech head circlet that was hooked up to the machine by them, and tightened it around Kent's head. Monde grabbed an identical headset and put it on himself.
“What is this” Kent demanded.
“A link,” Monde said. “Between your mind and mine. You are going to stop believing these nonsensical fairy tails. One way or another.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit. He was gonna wipe Kent's memories. Brainwash him in order to suppress the knowledge of the Fears. I had to stop him. I opened the door, tazer drawn, and charged in exactly like Daniel would. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't aware of another man standing just inside the door, who stuck his leg out and tripped me on his way in. I hit the ground pretty hard, and the man who tripped me grabbed me by the arm and forced me to my feet. Monde was completely un-phased by what had happened.
“Hold on, Mr. Helioson,” he said calmly. “I'm almost done with this appointment.”
Kent began struggling, then convulsing against the table, before fainting. Monde took his circlet thing off and turned to me.
“You're gonna do the same to me, aren't you” I asked. “You're gonna make me forget the truth.”
“What truth?” Monde said, smiling. “Surely you don't believe any of the things that have occurred.”
“Fuck off,” I growled.
“You must know that Daniel has been lying to you,” he continued. “Everything was just a game he created to fool with your mind. He looks down on you.”
“No he doesn't,” I said adamantly. “I've seen enough to know it's real. Malkator, Isaac, Estren and HELLFIRE...”
“All accomplisses of Daniel's,” Monde said. He contacted them years ago to take part in this elaborate prank of his. Those superpowers you've seen were all an act.”
“As if!” I said. “You haven't see the things Daniel is capable of!”
“Cheap theatrics,” Monde said. “Anyone with the right resources could accomplish those things.”
“I watched Benjamin Malkator eat people!” I snapped. “I've had Isaac O'Zalia inside my head! Explain that!”
“Have you honestly fallen for smoke-and-mirrors?” he asked me. “Such simple deceptions? It has all been a lie.”
“You expect me to believe that Daniel's invested this much time and money into an elaborate prank like this?” I demanded.
“Is it really so hard to believe?” he said. “Didn't you two start off as enemies in middle school? It wasn't until you came to him and extended the hand of friendship that he accepted you, and even then, he never saw you as a friend. It was just a game to him. You're nothing to him but-”
He was interrupted when a loogie that may or may not have come from my mouth hit him directly in the eye. He stopped mid sentence and wiped it from his eye.
“Strap him up,” he ordered, without breaking that annoying calm of his. The man holding me began pushing me toward the machine, and the other two got Kent off the table. At this distance, I could see the company logo on the side of the machine.
“Stop it!” I demanded. “Let me go!”
“I'm sorry,” Monde said, as I was strapped to the table. “But you must learn that the Fears do not exist. We live in the best of all possible worlds. There is nothing supernatural about it.”
“All right then, you French dickhead,” said a familiar, distorted voice from the far side of the room, opposite the door. “If that's true, then explain me.”
A ghostly man stood there. He was at least thirty in appearance, with long hair that seemed to be devoid of color. And I don't mean black or white, I mean that color literally didn't exist in his hair. He was dressed in 13th Century garments, and his left eye was an orb of color-shifting light. His right eye was completely missing, replaced by a vertical, badly healed scar. The ghost of thew Ace Of Chaos, Marshall Smith, had joined us in the room. Everyone except for Monde was startled by his presence. He began walking forward, his feet remaining a few inches above the ground, and he spoke to Monde.
“Am I but an optical illusion?” he asked. “A product of prestidigitation? A seed of insanity? Light reflecting off of fog Tell me, Meilleur Monde, what am I, and more importantly, why are you listening to me when you should be paying attention to the sorceress who just walked through the door?”
On cue, Keursio ran in and in a flash of movement and light, she knocked out all the men except for Monde, who for the first time that night displayed a look of genuine surprise. Keursio freed me from my bonds, and I immediately picked Kent's unconscious body off the floor and tried to support him underneath one of his shoulders. Keursio got his other side, and we lifted him up.
“Get out of here,” Marshall told us sternly. We didn't need telling twice. We bailed.
On the way out, I heard Monde yell “It's all a lie! Daniel can't be trusted!” at me. I ignored him and kept moving.
We got in the car and started driving, with Kent in the back seat. We drove in silence for a while before Keursio spoke up.
“You don't believe what he said about Daniel, do you” she asked.
“No, I don't,” I said.
“Because I spent 300 years in a literal hell!” she said. “The thought that anything that's happened could be some guy's idea of a prank is just plain bulls-”
“I know!” I snapped. “Daniel's my friend, and I trust him! I know Monde's lying.”
“I'm sorry,” Keursio asked. “It's just that you were so quiet. I thought he might have gotten to you.”
“No, he didn't,” I said, gripping the wheel a bit too tightly.
We stayed quiet for a minute before before I said anything else.
“You know what I find funny?” I asked.
“What?” she replied.
“Why would Dr. Welric, a scientist who's company focuses on the construction of unique weaponry, build a machine to link two people's minds together?” I said.
“What?” she asked.
“Sound's dad,” I said. “He built the Sonic Swords, and all kinds of other stuff. His company's logo was on the Panopticon's machine.”
“Really?” she asked.
“I've looked into them before,” I said. “Stirem Inc.”
“That company built the Panopticon's machine,” she said thoughtfully.
“Not to mention Dr. Welric was one of the Game Master's men,” I said. “Think there's a connection between him and the Panopticon?”
“I wouldn't rule it out,” she said.
“Neither would I.”
We got back to the hotel. I palmed the piece of chain in my pocket. I needed the feeling it gave me. We picked up Kent and carried him to the door, trying not to be seen. We opened the hotel door, and a breeze came in. I had been looking over the pictures from Drake's room on the desk, and the wind slid them around a bit before we shut the door. We lay Kent down on the bed. He's woken up since then, but hasn't spoken much to us, other then a polite thank you and some short sentences. I hoping he'll open up soon. Anyway, after setting him down, I went to straighten up the papers. That's when I noticed something.
As I mentioned, the papers are thin enough that you can almost see through them. So, if you stack two papers on top of each other, you can see what's on the bottom paper, provided the light's right. The way the wind had blown them, the numerous papers were arranged so that the lines and curves on them almost formed a symbol. I adjusted them a bit until they resembled a somewhat crude drawing of the graffiti A symbol I had snapped a photo of before. Now I knew it wasn't a coincidence.
Keursio looked over my shoulder, and took a deep gulp upon seeing the picture.
“Do you recognize this?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “From when I was in hell.”
“What is it” I asked, nervously.
“The symbol of Azail the Enabler,” she said weakly. “One of the ten Daemon Lords.”
The words of HELLFIRE and Myrir came back to me.
“Go to hell. Maybe they'd have an answer there.”
“Demonology. Look into it.”
It was then that I realized exactly how fucked I was. I wasn't about to jump to conclusions without more facts, but if my suspicions are right, then Drake Thorne and that kid's mother weren't kidnapped by Fears, or even servants.
They were in the hands of a motherfucking Daemon.
-Tony Helioson, signing out
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