Resurrection

by Ryan Attard

  The other pair of stone arms wrapped around his neck in a rear naked choke.

  “Gotcha now, fuckface,” Amaymon growled in Belial’s ear.

  He squeezed, and I heard something crack. Belial’s head rolled free from his shoulders and fell pathetically to the ground. The rest of his body followed soon after.

  “Holy shit,” Abi said from next to me.

  “Yeah,” I added.

  “No,” Mephisto said. “The fight is far from over.”

  Hell fire erupted from Belial’s body, shooting towards the sky. It darkened the atmosphere. Yellow bolts of lightning branched out.

  The black fire swirled and consumed Belial’s form, and seconds later he stood tall and proud and very much alive.

  He raised his blade in both hands.

  “A valiant effort, Amaymon,” he said. The sky thundered and roared. “But I am the Emperor. And you, my disgraced general, shall be reminded of my power.”

  Lightning coalesced into his blade and Belial swung down…

  Amaymon was in front of him, one stone arm gripping Belial’s wrists and stopping the sword’s descent.

  “And you,” he said, “know jack shit about fighting.”

  Amaymon twisted and smashed his hip into Belial’s midsection. The sword went flying in one direction while Belial was flipped over Amaymon in a perfect shoulder-throw.

  Belial landed face-first on the ground. Amaymon extended one of his stone arms and grabbed his head.

  “Eat a dick, Your Highness,” he said before smashing Belial’s head into the ground again.

  Chapter 31

  Okay, quick recap:

  One: I was alive and back in my body.

  Two: The circumstances under which that had happened involved the summoning of possibly the strongest demon to ever exist.

  Three: Amaymon, Gil, Mephisto, and Luke were all in cahoots together to let said demon be summoned. Which meant they played all of us—nothing surprising there, not when my sister was involved.

  Four: We were in the demon realm, in literal Hell, where the first and most important rule is, everything can be solved with enough violence.

  Amaymon repeatedly slammed Belial’s head into the volcanic rock, pulverizing his face. He heaved and threw the demon, who was twice his size, away as if he weighed no more than a cardboard cutout of himself.

  Belial flared his wings and dashed towards Amaymon. Now disarmed, black flames shot directly from his body. Amaymon dodged and slipped, like a boxer caught in the ropes, before ducking under Belial and shooting a punch to his flank. The Demon Emperor was sent rolling.

  He tried standing up, but Amaymon was on him, pummeling his face. At the same time, he reached back with a stone arm, extending it, and grabbed Belial’s discarded sword. He viciously stabbed the massive sword into Belial’s leg, pinning him in place.

  Belial roared—an action which was cut short when Amaymon grabbed his head and smashed it onto the pommel on his own sword.

  Belial reached out one hand to hold Amaymon at bay, while trying to pull out the sword from his foot with the other. Black flames sizzled as they burned through Amaymon’s flesh, but he ignored the pain. And instead he swatted Belial’s arms away, and punched him in the face and torso, doubling him over. Then he grabbed the sword’s handle and drove a fist into the enormous sword.

  The metal gave way and it snapped in half, leaving one half pinned inside Belial’s leg and the other wielded by Amaymon.

  He slashed at Belial’s neck but the latter turned at the last second. The blade met the horns and shattered into smithereens. One of Belial’s horns fell to the ground.

  Belial roared and black fire exploded from his body again, this time consuming Amaymon. He grabbed him by the neck and raked fiery claws across his face before punching him. One of Amaymon’s fangs tore off. Half his face was bloodied and one eye burst.

  “You should feel proud, Amaymon,” Belial said, heaving from both pain and effort. “But like I said, I am the-”

  Amaymon swung both pairs of fists across his body like scissors, one against Belial’s wrist, the other against his elbow. Belial’s arm snapped, broken, but he barely had time to register the pain.

  Amaymon careened in the air until he was upside down. His twin tails, tipped with amethyst, spiked into Belial’s eyes. At the same time, he grabbed Belial’s good leg and spun, using his body as leverage. I recognized the move from Brazilian jujitsu, a leg bar.

  Amaymon heaved his feline body and Belial’s leg snapped. He roared and thrashed on the ground, three out of four limbs broken.

  Amaymon hopped away from him, still crouched in a fighting position.

  “What manner of sorcery is this?” Belial raged. Black fire roiled from his body but it was as weak as its master. “How? Tell me, Amaymon. How?”

  Amaymon chuckled. “It’s simple really. You never got to live in the human world. I did. Turns out I learnt a thing or two. See, back in the good old days, I was the biggest, the meanest, the strongest, the fastest. But you were bigger, faster, stronger. Humans don’t work like that. Leverage, tactics, strategy, angles, and pressure—that’s how the little guy can bring down a big motherfucker like you. I outsmarted you, then I broke you bit by bit.”

  “Human fighting?” Belial growled. “How far you have fallen, Amaymon. You disgrace your kind.”

  Amaymon managed a shrug. “My kind can go fuck itself. It’s every demon for himself now, bub.”

  “Not under my rule!” Flames soared as Belial tried standing up and slumped down pathetically. “I am the Emperor!”

  “No,” Amaymon said. “What you are is a ghost, a sick memory that every demon has. Rule? Order? We’re creatures of chaos! We do what we want, whenever we want.”

  “I gave us strength,” Belial said. “I made Hell better than ever. Not since the time of Lilith’s hell-spawn had we been so mighty.”

  “Lilith’s dead,” Amaymon said. “Destroyed by a human.” He laughed at Belial’s horrified expression. “The same human that took me in and gave me power.”

  The ground surged around Belial. Stone spikes pierced him from beneath.

  “You always underestimated me,” Amaymon said, his voice barely containing the rage within. “You held me back. Well, guess what? It took a goddamn human to liberate me. And I am now more powerful than any demon, my brothers included.”

  One of his stone arms reached out and covered Belial’s face. The Demon Emperor’s scream was muffled by the rock, but his desperate expression was crystal clear.

  “My name is Amaymon. And I’m the fuckin’ king now.”

  Amaymon clenched his fist, crushing Belial’s head into goop. At the same time, the spike impaling him swelled and exploded. Belial was reduced to tiny little pieces. Black fire rained down from his remnants.

  Instantly the feeling of despair evaporated. The dark sky parted, revealing once more the sulfuric yellow.

  Amaymon raised his head, victorious over his enemy.

  Mephisto dropped the barrier and stepped aside. From my peripheral vision, I saw Astaroth burst into brilliant yellow flame and disappear.

  Abi, Jack, Luke, and Gil were still stunned over the display of magic and violence, all befitting a demon of Amaymon’s reputation.

  Don’t get me wrong, I was shocked too. There’s a difference between knowing that someone was deadly to actually witnessing it for yourself.

  Amaymon padded his way gently towards us. His four stone arms fell aside and disappeared into the ground. He sat down on his rear just like a cat, and looked down at me with his giant yellow eyes.

  “Guys,” I said, breaking the silence. “Gimme a second please.”

  No one said anything as I walked forwards alone. The pendant was still in my hand.

  I made it towards the massive demon and looked up. Amaymon blinked once.

  The ground rumbled softly. A stone wall rose behind me, rising until it hid us from sight.

  Whatever happened now, Amaymon wanted priva
cy. Maybe he intended to fight some more, and wanted to cut me off from any support.

  No, this didn’t feel like a challenge. There was something else here. I looked at the demon, who now hung his feline head. His eyes were almost sad.

  Shame.

  Amaymon was feeling shame.

  As if to prove my point, his bestial form began shrinking. He still towered over me, but at least now I wasn’t going to get a neck cramp.

  Slowly, he nudged his nose towards me, inching closer. His eyes glittered, and a single tear fell from his remaining eye.

  That, more than anything broke my heart. Demons had the emotional capacity of children. They could not control their emotions and usually let them drive their actions. Powerful ones like Amaymon were only akin to teenagers.

  Seeing him cry, I burst out in tears as well. I reached out and pressed my hands on his massive nose.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and weak. “I’m so sorry.”

  I sniffed. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay. None of it was okay.” He shivered beneath my touch. “I never meant to hurt any of you.”

  “I know, Amaymon.” I raised the pendant. “That’s why you kept this, right?”

  “You left us all,” he said. “And we were lost.”

  “Is that why you joined Greede?” I asked. “Did my sister make you? Or was that your idea?”

  Amaymon let out a soft growl. “We needed to stall Greede,” he said. “Gil needed time to get you back, as well as consolidate her resources. So we dangled a carrot.”

  “Belial.”

  He shook his head. “Me,” he said. “A demon as powerful as me, roaming free? It was too much for him to resist. Abi helped sell it too, even if she wasn’t in the loop. And Belial… Well, that was my suggestion. Greede’s power is also his weakness. He might be able to reason, but Mammon is the Sin of Greed. All he needed was a little push, and knowing that he’ll never be able to match me was enough. Once I convinced him he would be able to assimilate with Belial too, it was a piece of cake.”

  “I heard Greede call him your father,” I said, looking the demon in the eye. “I know how that feels, going up against family.”

  Amaymon let out a growl. “He’s not my real father. Demons aren’t born the same way humans are. We simply exist.” Another growl punctuated his words. “When Belial took over Hell, he adopted me and my brothers, raising us to be his generals. His tools.” He chuckled. “Me, I got the army. Mephisto was tasked with outsmarting the enemy and leading them into traps. Much like we did with Belial today.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Siblings, huh? I got Gil, you got Mephisto. Two pieces of work.”

  Amaymon growled again. “I just wanted something to smash.”

  “I bet you did,” I said. “Nothing like killing a few demons from our past to help us move forward.”

  “Literally,” he added, chuckling.

  “So what now, Amaymon?”

  “Belial is gone forever,” he said. “His remnants were consumed during the resurrection spell. Even if some dumbass had the idea to try it again, they’d have nothing to try it with.”

  I nodded. “Good to hear. But that’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.”

  He fell silent, and I waited. I kept looking at him, until he finally had to say something.

  “I’m not sure, Erik,” he said, lowering his head all the way down. “I want things to go back to the way they were.”

  “And you think that they wouldn’t on account of your actions while heartbroken?”

  He blinked at me. I reached out, patting him on the head. My arm got lost within the fur of rock and crystal. They were surprisingly soft and warm to the touch.

  “I can’t speak for others,” I said, “but in my book, you just redeemed yourself, Amaymon.” I sighed. “You’re allowed to fuck up. It’s how you fix it that matters. You protected Abi when she went too far, you stalled the enemy, and you just defeated a potential danger. I’d say we’re good.”

  He thought I couldn’t see his tears, but the drops on the ground were evident.

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  The wall behind us went down. At the same time, his bestial figure shrunk down even further. Paws gave way to hands, the tails disappeared, along with the black fur, and Amaymon knelt in front of me in human form. His head was still down.

  “Thank you, Erik.”

  I looked at the pendant and draped it back over his neck. The ruby glowed back to life.

  He looked up.

  “You ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” I said, offering him my hand. He took it, and I pulled him into an embrace.

  He hugged me back.

  When we pulled back, everyone had approached. Everyone had a smile on their face and a look of relief, which was ironic, considering we were in Hell.

  I nodded at each of them, my family. Heck, even Mephisto and Luke. Maybe it was time to expand the family.

  These were the people who had brought me back to life.

  And I loved all of them.

  “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 32

  One week later

  Life in my little district of La Fortunata, tucked somewhere in the backstreets of Eureka, had not changed and that was just how I liked it. The old axiom about not knowing what you had until you didn’t have it anymore was true—though I bet whoever came up with it did not have my particular circumstances in mind.

  I was back to life after nearly a year of running around in Samael’s domain, avoiding the Angel of Death’s scythe. Following the epic battle between Amaymon and Belial, I spent two days in bed recovering from my injuries and readjusting to my body. I kept being amazed at everything. It was all just so real.

  And the magic… I had never truly realized how lucky I was to have been born with it. Knowing that there was power coursing through me was akin to feeling like a god, a master of every step in the universe.

  Then came the hunger. A year’s worth of hunger is difficult to properly calculate but here’s a rough overview:

  The morning of day three, I was the first customer at a McDonalds and made them regret the whole breakfast-all-day deal. The following days, I spent alternating between napping and eating an entire herd of animals, prepared in a variety of dishes. Abi got mad at me on account of my having already devoured my plate before she could take her Instagram pictures.

  Millennials! Just eat the freaking food already. There are hungry wizards about.

  Speaking of Abi, I finally got her to stop her suicide runs, far away from reckless danger and whatever stimulants Mephisto had been providing her with. Now she was spending her nights at home. She even resumed her night classes. Once I got somewhat settled in she dragged me along to one of those spa places, and we spent the afternoon getting massaged and pampered. I used to dismiss that crap as unmanly, but you know what? I don’t give a shit now.

  You try dying and coming back to life a year later—a massage feels better than a million orgasms.

  Abi, despite me hating her tactics, had kept a steady stream of clients, far better than I ever had. Apparently, the internet was a big deal. Hurray for twenty-first century marketing. It stung a little, knowing that without me, my apprentice made more money at the job I had invented. But that feeling was soon replaced by pride. I now knew she would be okay if I went away again—maybe this time without the vigilante act.

  Amaymon was back to his old self, too. And by that I mean, sitting on his ass, making perverted comments at the apprentice, telling me I need to get laid, and generally being a furry pain in the ass.

  My life, ladies and gentlemen.

  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  The kid, Jeremy, seemed to have settled well at Sister Edna’s orphanage—or at least as well as can be expected. I showed up one afternoon to say hi. He didn’t seem phased by my corporeal presence. We sat together, ate a sandwich, and talked for a bit. I did most of the talking. Sister
Edna said he needed time.

  You and me both, kid.

  Night-time was hard.

  During the day, I had Abi to talk to. Sometimes I called my sister and once or twice we even met for lunch, where she catered the event at the mansion and served a six-course meal. Jack was also well, and just about ready to finish his apprenticeship and open up his own shop.

  And yet, the nightmares raged on with a vengeance. They came in themes, too. Blood, gore and death, sure, but sometimes it was me doing the killing. Sometimes, I was a monster, other times I just sat by while the monster did its thing. But I always, always, felt every single detail—every hit, every drop of blood running through my fingers, heard every wail and scream of horror. My somatic victims were usually monsters of a wide assortment. There was one night where I had dreamt of massacring a group of people. In the back of my mind, I recall identifying them as evil magic-users.

  I would wake up with a start, heart beating and bile rising. I would feel my hands dirty and look down only to see nothing.

  Nothing but a dream.

  Stephen King would have been impressed.

  The crying and shaking came soon after. Most nights I spent in tears, with my knees huddled to my chest, until I became too exhausted and passed out.

  Abi heard me one night and confronted me over it.

  “You were calling out her name,” she said.

  The coffee felt bitter in my mouth, and it wasn’t because of its taste. I remained silent.

  “You haven’t asked about her,” Abi pressed.

  “Akasha,” I said, snapping a little. “Her name is… was… Akasha.”

  Abi kept her gaze on me, unwavering despite my outburst.

  “You haven’t gone to see her grave,” she said. “Gil buried her in Trinity, about an hour away from here.” She smiled. “Apparently, she never left a will, but her people were not big on cremation. They wanted to be one with nature.”