“Are you sure?” Kay asked, handing
me the crowbar.
“He's been gone for months,” I
said. “We're not getting anywhere waiting around for him.”
“And you think breaking in to look
for clues is a good idea?” Kay asked.
“No one's here, we'll be fine,” I
said.
I got the back door open and we
entered. Seemed like a normal British house.
“Okay, Daniel's lizard-thing said
that there's a trapdoor into the cellar,” I said. “Let's get
searching.”
Took us about an hour to locate the
damned thing, but we found it and pried it open. We pulled out our
flashlights and descended the wooden steps. We found ourselves in
what was most definitely a cult chamber. Symbols were etched into the
walls among shelf of what I assumed were Satanic texts. And,
partially concealed beneath some junk on the floor was a very large
crest. The crest of Salazchia. I approached it and shined my light
upon it, and nearly gagged. What I had mistaken for just some random
junk turned out to be bones. Human bones. Caked in dried blood and
reeking of old meat.
“Jesus!” I hissed. “Why!? Just
fucking why!?”
“Th offerings,” came a voice from
beneath one of the shelves.
I turned my attention to it. There was
a young boy cowering beneath it, obscured by shadow. He was chained
to the wall, and had a badly healed scar on one cheek where he had
been cut. I recognized him at once.
“Drake!” I said, running over to
him and kneeling down. “Holy shit! Are you alright?”
“The monsters come,” he said. “They
eat the offerings. Then they demand more.”
“The offerings...,” I said, looking
at the bones again. “Human sacrifices?”
“Yes,” Drake said. “They didn't
want me. Said I was too small. So he went to get more.”
He was barely whispering, and was
visibly shaken. Just what the hell had he seen down here?”
“Monroe has been gone a while,” Kay
said.
“That's true,” I said. “How have
you...”
I turned to the bones once more, a
sickening realization struck me.
“You haven't been...?” I asked, my
voice trailing off.
“No,” Drake said, realizing what I
was getting at and shaking my head.
I breathed a sigh of relief. So he
hadn't resorted to cannibalism.
“The boy is far from emaciated,”
Kay noted. “Who's been feeding you?”
“The... the Devil,” Drake mumbled.
“The Devil?” I asked.
“So I got a soft spot for kids!”
Came a rather loud voice from directly behind me. “Sue me!”
I stood up and spun round and found
myself staring into the pentagram eyes of none other than Damien
Monroe.
“Sup?” he asked, grinning.
I stepped back in alarm. Kay seemed
somewhat surprised as well.
“What are you-?” I started to
asked.
“Oh, I'm waiting for Dad to get
back,” Damien said. “Speaking of which, you guys picked a great
night for a break in. His plane touched down thirty minutes ago.
He'll be back any minute now.”
“You're joking!” I said.
“I know,” Damien said, smiling.
“One Hell of a coincidence.”
I focused on my left hand and willed
Burner to appear in it. The familiar wooden sheath materialized
between my fingers.
“You called?” Burner whispered to
me.
I shuddered. I'm still not used to
being able to see and hear him. I've heard about him from Daniel, but
experiencing him myself is something else.
I drew the sword and turned back to
Drake.
“No time to talk,” I said. “Heat
up.”
“Very Well,” Burner said, and the
blade began glowing red. I slashed at Drake's chain, freeing him.
“Come on,” I said, lifting him to
his feet. “We've gotta go!”
Drake and I began running to the steps,
when the sound of a door opening above us sounded.
“oh, well ain't that just great
timing?” Damien chuckled.
The footsteps aproached the trapdoor
and began descending the ladder.
“Who's down here!?” A gruff voice
demanded, as Demetri Monroe emerged into the chamber. He looked us
all over, before his eyes finally rested on Damien. His jaw dropped.
“S-son!?”
“Hey, old man,” Damien said coldly.
Demetri took two hesitant steps
forward, before falling to his knees, almost sobbing.
“You're here!” he said. “My
prayers have been answered!”
“You,” Damien said, remaining oddly
emotionless as he spoke.. “Of all people. You prayed for me?”
“Yes!” Demetri said. “For both of
you! When you and your sister vanished, I did everything I could to
get you back. I've made deals with the darkest of beings, but not
until today have any of them delivered!”
“None of them delivered a damn
thing,” Damien said. “I've come back of my own volition.”
Demetri seemed to be at a loss for
words, so Damien continued.
“I believe you, though,” he said,
cracking a smile. “It's a relief, really. All this time, I thought
you didn't care.”
“I-I've always cared about you,”
Demetri said.
Damien let out a chuckle.
“Oh, right!” Damien said. “I've
forgotten the introductions! This here is Anthony Helioson. An old
acquaintance. And this...”
He gestured to Kay.
“...Is the Knower,” he finished.
I blinked. Knower? Is that some kind of
title? Is that what “Kay” is short for?
“Now, Knower, if you wouldn't mind,
would you get Drake out of here?” Damien asked. “That is within
your capabilities, is it not?”
“What are you planning, Biker?” Kay
demanded.
“A party,” Damien said, grinning
broadly. “This is a reunion, after all.”
I caught on immediately. Damien was
planning something evil, and Kay knew it too.
“Whatever this is, I won't let you-”
Kay started, but I interrupted him.
“Take Drake and go,” I said. “I'll
handle this.”
Kay looked at me quizzically, then
nodded. He grabbed Drake by the shoulder and they both vanished.
Weird... So he really is something more than he lets on.
“Gonna have to ask him about that
later,” I muttered.
“Thank you for that,” Damien said.
“I don't need him interfering.”
He then turned back to his father.
“Summon Salazchia,” he said.
“Wh-what?” Demetri asked, taken
aback.
I stepped between them, sword raised in
Damien's direction.
“Are you insane!?” I demanded.
“Hi, I'm the Bloody Biker,” Damien
said. “Have we met?”
“I won't let you summon that thing,”
I said, taking the best fighting stance I could with the sword.
“You know,” Damien said. “That
sword once belonged to a friend of mine.”
His eyes narrowed at me, and the
pentagrams glowed with a fierce rage.
“And now some insignificant tool is
wielding it,” He continued, raising a hand. “Out of the fucking
way!”
There was a flash of light, and I was
thrown against the wall to the side. My vision was swimming, but I
could still hear. Demetri let out a cry of pain. Damien ordered him
to summon Salazchia again. Then, in a whimpering voice, Demetri
spoke.
“Great Lord of Malice.”
Oh no....
“Salazchia, Daemon of wrath.”
No no no no no....
“I summon thee!!!”
Oh crap....
My vision abruptly came back. I saw the
crest in the middle of the floor begin glowing, and in a flash of
light, a figure stood there. It was about 7 feet tall, and dressed in
metallic armor that didn't look like any culture native to earth. He
held a massive claymore in one hand, and had dark black hair framing
his tanned face. His eyes were solid blue orbs, dark enough that they
could have almost been black. His mouth was lizard-like, and had
needle like teeth. Three horns protruded from his forehead, extending
a few inches upward. This was him. Salazchia, the Daemon Lord of
Malice.
I could see Damien, standing over his
father, smiling viciously at the newcomer, holding a falchion in his
hand. Demetri lay on the ground, clutching a wound on his leg, that
Damien must have left there. Damien suddenly turned back to his
father, swinging his arm in a broad arc.
I could do nothing but watch in stunned
silence as Damien Monroe beheaded his own father.
If it weren't for the violence that
instantly broke out between Damien and Salazchia, I probably would
have gone into shock or zoned out or something. But I didn't have
that luxury. I had to come up with something to do about this. Worst
case scenario, Salazchia would win, and then go on a rampage. Best
case scenario, Damien would be successful and kill Salazchia. But
then again, Damien was only the lesser evil by a small margin.
I didn't get a lot of time to think.
Although they were almost on the same level, Salazchia managed to
gain the upper hand. He slashed Damien in the hip, leaving a deep
gash and bringing him down. Salazchia, somewhat exhausted, stood
above Damien and raised his sword high.
“You've been a good adversary,
Biker,” Salazchia chuckled. “But even the best things must come
to an end.”
“So they must,” Damien said.
There was no warning. Salazchia was
thrown off his feet by a blast of crimson energy fired straight out
of Damien's eyes. He hit the ground a short distance away as Damien
weakly got back to his feet. Damien quickly grabbed the sword that
Salazchia had dropped, and threw it like a javelin, impaling the
Daemon on the end of it. He then raised a hand, and a glyph of
glowing red light in the shape of a pentagram appeared before it.
“Go shag yourself!” Damien shouted,
firing a blast of energy from the glyph, crashing into the hilt of
the sword and driving it further it.
He fired another blast, and then
another, hitting Salazchia in the shoulders and driving him back
against the wall. He fired another three blasts, each hitting the
Daemon Lord, before he collapsed from the effort. Salazchia leaned
against the wall for a few moments, panting heavily. He gripped the
hilt of the sword and drug it out of himself, wincing in pain as he
did.
“I'm impressed, Biker,” Salazchia
growled. “You fought well. But now...”
Salazchia found himself cut off when
Kay reappeared, standing between them.
“I cannot allow this fight to
continue,” he said, n an icily calm tone of voice.
Suddenly, a glowing circle of blue
light appeared, hovering in the air around Salazchia.
“This is...,” Salazchia muttered.
Kay snapped his fingers, and Salazchia
convulsed in pain as lightning dashed along his skin. Kay snapped his
fingers again, and suddenly the ceiling above Salazchia, along with
several of the walls and furniture of the room above, came crashing
down upon him. He then quickly grabbed Damien by the shoulder, and
looked at me.
“I'll be back for you in a moment,”
he said.
“Wait!” Damien cried, but Kay
vanished before he had any chance to resist.
“What the fuck...?” I said.
It was silent for a few minutes. Then
the rumble shifted. I turned to it in terror as Salazchia rose,
unharmed, from the debris.
“Damn,” the Lord muttered. “They
both got away.”
His eyes fell upon me, and he smiled.
“But I still have some company,” he
said, grasping his sword.
“Um, Burner?” I whispered. “Can
we take this guy?”
“No,” Burner said. “He's too
strong for either of us.”
“A lie would have been more
comforting,” I whispered back.
Salazchia threw back his head and left.
Next thing I know, Salazchia had me lifted into the air by the
throat.
“There will be no comfort for you,
lowly human,” he said.
He tightened his grip around my throat.
I released my grip on Burner and fruitlessly attempted to pry his
armored fingers away.
“Suffocation has always been my
favorite form of murder,” Salazchia grinned. “Even more fun than
the sword.”
I struggled to get words out. To tell
him to stop. But my air supply was completely cut off. I was dying, I
was completely screwed.
“Is there something you wish to tell
me?” Salazchia asked. “Very well. I will give you your last
words.”
His grip loosened up enough for me to
get some breathe in.
“Choose them well,” He chucked.
“And swiftly.”
I looked down at him. Into his deep
blue eyes. I had seen the eyes of a Daemon before, but these were
different. Colder. As I gazed into these eyes, there was only one
thing I could think to say. My only choice for my final words.
“Azail!” I said, as loudly as I
could.
The eyes before me widened, as if in
horror, and Salazchia's jaw dropped in surprise.
“I summon thee!” I shouted, will
suddenly surging through me.
It happened all at once. A cloud of
blackness engulfed us both, and bolts of lighting struck Salazchia
from all directions. I fell to the ground as the black cloud took
shape and solidified into Azail. I scootd backward, and gazed upon
the two of them, standing face to face. The air crackled with
electricity round them.
Salazcgia was the first to make a move.
He raised his sword with both hands and swung it. Azail caught it
between the finger and thumb of one hand, and with a mere twitch, the
blade shattered like glass. Azail then stepped forward and punched
Salazchia right in the chest, sending him flying into the pile of
rubble. He then raised his right arm up high. The upper potion of the
arm transformed into a pitch black cloud, with suddenly caught fire,
propelling his forearm and fist at high speed, crashing into
Salazchia face and exploding into a cloud, which began swirling
around Salazchia's body. Fierce lightning exploded within the cloud,
and Salazchia let out a cry of pain. The cloud rushed back to Azail,
and reformed as his arm, leaving Salazchia lying there.
“Do you accept defeat?” Azail asked
calmly.
Salazchia rose to his feet, and roared
angrily. His body began growing larger.
It was at this point that Kay
reappeared. Seeing what was going on, he grabbed me by the shoulder
and said “We need to-”
I threw his arm off and said “Not
yet!”
I'm not sure what compelled me to do
so, but I knew I needed to stay.
Salazchia grew even larger, until he
was twice as tall as before, and three times as muscular. His horns
were at least a foot and a half long, and his eyes had taken on an
inhuman shape. He was also sprouted large bladed wings. He roared
savagely at Azail, you didn't flinch. Azail drew his dagger, which
glowed red and expanded into a longsword. Salazchia swung his fist,
and Azail knocked it aside with his blade before dealing three swift
cuts to Salazchia's chest. They didn't cut very deep, but it was
enough to drive the giant back. Azail stood stoically against
Salazchia's giant form, as they glared into each other's demonic
eyes. Salazchia's face was alien, making it nearly impossible to read
his expression. But I could swear that there was fear in those
monstrous eyes of his. Salazchia was afraid of Azail.
They continued to stare each other down
for a few moments, then with a frustrated growl, Salazchia tore a
hole in the air, creating a portal back to Bloody Hell, and stepped
through it. IT closed behind him without trace.
“He banished himself...,” Kay said,
awestruck.
Azail turned to me, frowning.
“I warned you,” he told me. “Our
next encounter would not come cheep.”
Oh. Right.
“And I was just come to blows with
another Daemon Lord,” Azail said. “A powerful one. So tell me;
what do you have that could make this all worthwhile to me?”
“Um...,” I said, racking my brain.
“Well?” Azail demanded.
My eyes darted around the room, trying
to find something that could appease him. But pretty much everything
had been wrecked in the conflict. I'm pretty sure Azail wouldn't want
any of this junk, and I couldn't give him Burner.
A hissing breathe escaped Azail's
mouth. I assumed that meant that he was growing impatient.
My eyes fell upon his clawed feet. Feet
that had been stubbed and scarred from traversing the rocky
landscapes of Bloody Hell. I had an idea. A stupid one, but it was
the best I could think of.
I dre my feet closer to me and began
undoing my shoelaces.
“What are you doing?” Kay whispered
to me.
“Something dumb,” I said, slipping
the shoes off and sliding them over to Azail.
Azail stared at them for several long
seconds. He then knelt down and lifted one, turning it over in his
hands. They were dusty, low heeled steel-toe boots. A pretty old
pair. Looking at them in his hands, I realized they were too small
for him, and that worried me. For all of three seconds. He's body
suddenly became less substantial, as he turned himself partially into
smoke, then compressed it all slightly before re-solidifying. He had
just shrunk himself down a bit so they would fit.
He slipped the boots on and tied the
laces. He stood up and examined his feet for a few moments, before
looking into my eyes and nodding. He then faded away into
nothingness.
“You are the luckiest son of a bitch
I've ever seen,” Kay muttered. “And also perhaps the stupidest.”
“Hey, remember a few weeks ago when
Daniel got pissed off and picked a fight with the Wooden Girl?”
“Let's just go,” Kay said.
We started heading back to his house. I
tried questioning him along the way.
“What happened with Damien?” I
asked.
“He gave me some trouble,” Kay
said. “But I got him to submit. He won't bother anyone for a
while.”
“How did you do all that?” I asked.
“The teleporting, the seal, the lightning? How?”
“The Panopticon would sum it up as a
series of cheap parlor tricks,” Kay said. “I'm afraid I must give
the same explanation. It wouldn't be a lie, entirely.”
“Seemed like more than just a bunch
of tricks,” I said.
“It's difficult to explain,” Kay
said.
“What did Dmien mean when he called
you the Knower?” I asked.
“I know a lot of things,” he
replied. “Things most people don't have the capacity to
understand.”
We got back to his place. I was
surprised to see some bags packed by the front door.
“What are these for?” I asked.
“I have to go,” he said. “You
need to call Martyr Beta. When you do, he will come for his son. And
I must go before then.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I am a threat to the Archive,” he
said. “The Martyr's will hunt me down if they can find me. So I
need to find a new hideout, and throw off their trial.”
He grabbed the bags and turned to me.
“Drake is resting in my room,” he
said. “Both of you may help yourselves to the kitchen. I've left it
full.”
He turned away from me, but I called
out to him before he could vanish.
“Wait!” I said. “Just who are
you?”
He turned back to me, smiling.
“I'm exactly what Damien said I was,”
he said. “The Knower.”
And then he was gone.
