by Michael Todd
Katie pursed her lips. “Yeah, but one of his groups became a terrorist organization. That right there could get him in serious hot water. First, though, we need to fix this whole thing. I think I know what to do.”
Katie closed his laptop and handed it to Pandora. “Don’t drop that.”
Pandora followed her out where Kyle was sitting at the table wiping the blood from his nose. “That’s my fucking property.”
Katie held up her phone. “Say ‘Cheese.’”
She snapped several pictures of him and sent them to the cloud for safekeeping. Pandora was glancing around the place, bouncing a dildo off the side of her head. Katie grabbed it and threw it on the table. “I think we got everything we need. We’re going to expose this butt-chugger.”
Pandora grimaced. “Oh, my God. What do you mean?”
After wearing his new leg for a while and keeping his head down, Beelzebub was starting to feel better. He woke up that morning and put his armor back together before putting it on and admiring himself in the mirror. He pulled on the hair of his goatee, believing that with his peg leg, he looked scarier than before. Which was good, since all he had at that time was his intimidation of the lower level demons.
He was so focused on himself that he didn’t hear Baal come in. His friend walked up behind him and looked in the mirror. “Isn’t that warm? I feel like the metal would melt your scales off.”
Beelzebub pulled down on the chest plate. “No, I’m fine. It’s got magic that keeps it from overheating. It gets a bit sweaty, but I could use a few pounds released from my body.”
Beelzebub ran his hand over the pentagram crest etched in gold on the front. He sighed and turned away from the mirror, clomping away from it. “You know, the last time I wore my armor for something other than making an appearance, I was fighting the Leg Horn Beasts from that one dimension. I was slashing through them like they were made of paper. It was amazing.”
Baal lifted his eyebrow. “Sounds exciting.”
Beelzebub sighed deeply. “It was. This armor has been through the wringer. But oh, those were the days. A warrior in battle fighting to the last standing man, woman, child, or creature. We raped, we pillaged, and we took whatever we wanted. We roped up the bodies and created a statue of Lucifer from them. It was beautiful, especially when we set it on fire. Very spiritual moment there.”
Baal chuckled. “I remember that. Lucifer had a picture of that hanging in the council room for a long time. The burning effigy made of human bodies, horns and all. Very creative.”
Beelzebub smiled and got serious. “I’ve decided that it’s time to act decisively. I have some really good ideas, and I am tired of sitting on them out of fear. Fuck creating war; it is ongoing. What the people need to see are symbols that show we are not backing down, and we will destroy them. Sow fear, and these humans will begin to destroy each other.”
Baal groaned. “Beelzebub, I thought we talked about this.”
Beelzebub put his hand up. “Wait. Wait. Hear me out. For instance, have you heard of Christ the Redeemer?”
Baal jumped back, shushing Baal and patting the air with his palms. “Of course I’ve heard of him! Everybody’s heard of him! We’re not supposed to talk about little C down here! You know what kind of trouble that could get us into? Lucifer wouldn’t stop at just your fucking leg.”
Beelzebub rolled his eyes. “No, no. Relax. I’m not talking about that Christ. I’m talking about the statue. You know the one I mean, right?”
Baal rubbed his chin, relaxing his shoulders and sitting down in front of the fire. “There are thousands of statues of Ch…the little C on Earth. Every single one seems to be precious to the meatsacks.”
Beelzebub waved his hand, bringing up a small screen that floated toward Baal. “Yes, but this one? It has been there forever, and the people worship it like it is Christ himself. It is a very large statue that sits atop a hill in Brazil. You often see it in movies and tourist commercials for the country. It is a staple in the skyline, and something that thousands of people flock to each year to get a glimpse of. It is my perfect idea.”
Baal waved the image away and looked at him in confusion, sitting up straight. “What do you mean, your perfect idea? Did you create that statue? If so, I’m leaving. That is blasphemy against Lucifer to its highest degree. Even if it was set there to target them, you will surely be sent in chains to the deepest level of hell. You thought living in a cave sucked? No. This is fucking Shangri-La compared to what that is like.”
Beelzebub groaned and walked over, pushing Baal back down in his chair. “Will you fucking relax? There’s a monument to him, the biggest in the world, in Rio de Janeiro. I’m going to destroy it and turn it into a monument to hell, just like my monument of human bodies that flamed high into the night sky. It may have been removed from human history books to spare the fear, but this one will never be forgotten.”
Baal tapped his teeth together. “Don’t get me wrong; it sounds like genius. It really does. To have a monument to hell in such a historical space, and to destroy a shrine to that guy…it’s wonderful. But I’m not sure you should do it without Lucifer’s permission. If it goes bad, not only are you going to be punished for that, but also for going behind his back. Didn’t you hear anything he said about teamwork?”
Beelzebub looked into the flames. “I am tired of sitting still in a sea of opportunity and never having the courage or the power to strike out and do something great. Yes, the risk of failure is there, but if it were to succeed? It would be monumental. I would go down in history for it.”
Baal shook his head. “If Lucifer doesn’t kill you for it first.”
Beelzebub shrugged. “It’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission when it comes to Lucifer. You know how much he loves to watch his demons and his souls beg. That’s how you get his pity—by stroking his evil.”
Baal tilted his head to the side. “I suppose you’re right, but I still think it’s an absolutely terrible idea. You, my friend, may be making your final choice. Lucifer is not the forgiving type.”
Beelzebub had tuned him out, rubbing his paws together and looking down into the flames. “I wonder how he’ll feel when the Rio de Janeiro, or River of January… January River…whatever. How he’ll feel when it becomes the City of Lucifer, one of the seven wonders of Earth?”
Pandora sat down on the balcony in a new pair of pajamas, a different fuzzy robe, warm slippers, and a scarf around her neck. Katie came out of the kitchen and handed her a cup of coffee. She was dressed the same, plus she had mittens on her hands. They sat sipping the hot liquid and listening to the sounds of the city. Pandora shivered. “Why do we have to wait out here? It’s fucking cold.”
Katie smirked. “So we can catch them when they are most excited about protesting.”
Pandora rolled her eyes. “How they find the motivation every day to do this shit, I will never figure out. They need to go to work or something. Get a hobby or commit a crime. I don’t know—whatever normal humans do.”
At that moment, the sound of voices below echoed up. Katie smiled and put down her coffee, going to the railing and watching the Halos and the Fuck Angels groups begin to gather below. None of them looked very happy, and they almost instantly started to bicker. Katie clapped her hands and looked at Pandora. “Come on, let’s go talk to them.”
Pandora groaned and put down her coffee. When she stood up, she spread her wings, stretching them out. “Fine, but I’m just watching this time. Bad cop is having a lazy day today.”
Katie smiled and jumped up on the railing, spreading her wings and diving to the street below. She landed in front of the two groups, and both sides backed up. One of the Fuck Angels members snorted. “Nice penguin pajamas. Is this the new uniform? You ditch the latex for mommy wear?”
Katie looked down at her outfit and shrugged. “I wear what I fucking want. Now, I am out here for a very specific reason right now. I want to show all of you something I acquired just last night.�
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She held her phone out and pulled up the pictures she had taken of Kyle and his goods. The Halo at the front furrowed her brow. “Hey, that’s Kyle Style. What did you do to him?”
One of the Fuck Angels scoffed. “No way. Let me see that fucking shit.”
Katie handed him the phone. He narrowed his eyes and scrolled through, slightly thrown off when he came to the picture Pandora had sneakily put in her phone. Katie pulled the phone from him and looked down. It was a close up of Pandora with two dildos near her mouth, eyes rolled back. She whipped her head around and stared at Pandora. “Very funny, asshole.”
Everyone recognized Kyle Style. He was apparently very familiar to all of the groups. The Fuck Angels guy waved his hands at the Halos. “Don’t fucking know why you fools are so upset about him being hurt like that.”
The Halo gave him a nasty look. “Uh, because he created the Halos, telling us how we needed to stand up against you assholes for what you were trying to say about angels, especially Katie.”
The Fuck Angels guy laughed, shaking his head. “You are so full of shit. Nice try, though. Kyle Style is the guy who created Fuck Angels as a way to show you assholes and everyone else that neither demons nor angels belong on this planet. This is ours, and will continue to be. They need to take their shit somewhere else.”
The Halo protestor pulled out her phone and showed it to the guy. It was a picture of her and others with Kyle. He was wearing a white Halos shirt with a white robe open in the front. “This is our leader.”
The Fuck Angels guy shook his head. “No fucking way.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up, showing his screen. It was Kyle Style in a Fuck Angels shirt giving the middle finger to the camera. “He is our fucking leader.”
Katie put her phone back in her pocket and put up her hands before a fight could break out. “Okay, okay. Everyone calm down. Look, you may not want to admit it or even think about it, but the thing is, he is a fraud. Kyle Style is a hatemonger. He’s sowing hate and confusion to sell you t-shirts, hats, pens, dildos, and whatever. To be honest, he’s probably on one of the Friends of the Devils’ phones too, wearing one of their red T-shirts. The only difference between them and you is that they’ve fucking upgraded to terrorist activity. He preys on people he knows will want to be heard and feel important in this movement, then he puts you up against each other.”
The Fuck Angels guy ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. He punched the air and then turned, pointing at Katie. “This is all bullshit. Don’t think I can’t see right through your shit. It’s some sort of trick you worked out with the Halos because they’re the only ones that like your ass. You’re trying to break up our group because you feel threatened by us.”
Pandora gritted her teeth and marched toward him. “I’ll show you threatened!”
Katie put out her arm and shook her head. “Pandora, stop. Let him be smug and make up his facts. That is going to be on him. But I’ll tell you one thing: by tonight, you won’t be able to deny what is really going on.”
The guy looked confused. “Why?”
Katie smiled. “Because in just a few hours, we’re releasing all of Kyle Style’s financials and the pictures we took when we were face to face with him last night. Read those, then draw your own conclusions. But don’t ignore the facts.”
6
Pandora leaned against the doorway of the room where Angie was playing her game. She watched her talk to the people following her, laughing as she built walls and shot people, then grabbed a rocket launcher and blasted the projectile into a building. Finally, the game was over, and her team had gotten first place. As she celebrated into her headset, she glanced up to see Pandora standing there.
She pulled her mic up. “Gonna take a break. Be back soon. Try not to fuck up our stats while I’m gone.”
She clicked off the mic and the camera and stood up. “Hey, what’s up?”
Pandora tapped a drive on her palm. “I was wondering if you could do something for me.”
Angie looked at the drive. “What?”
Pandora smiled. “Release a bunch of Kyle Style’s information worldwide.”
Angie looked shocked. “Kyle Style? Like the art-guru-turned-millionaire who started like a million get-rich-quick companies and the rest of the time posts weird shit online that makes it sound like his brain is composed of cocaine and whiskey?”
Pandora tapped her nose. “Ding, ding, ding. That would be him, only this time he got caught by us doing some fucked-up shit and putting people’s lives in danger, including mine and Katie’s.”
Angie pursed her lips. “Is that the info?”
Pandora handed her the drive. “Yeah. We pulled it off his to have a copy. Everything that’s on there needs to be seen by the public, including the people caught up in it.”
Angie smirked. “So what exactly did this guy do?”
Pandora shook her head. “What didn’t he do? He’s been collecting money from all these groups: Halos, Fuck Angels, and Friends of the Devil. Then he sells them shirts, personal items, pens, and protest signs, and he organizes it all online. He founded every single one of the groups, and none of them knew it. We showed them some pics, and they all saw that he was the founder of everything, but the Fuck Angels group thinks it’s a setup. They think it’s a trick, so we told them we would release his financials so they could see for themselves.”
Angie sneered. “Oh, man. He took advantage of these people big time, then created a group responsible for trying to assassinate you from a rooftop? I’m surprised you left him alive.”
Pandora shrugged. “Katie wouldn’t let me kill him. Trust me, I wanted to. This sonofabitch basically orchestrated all this shit, and he gets to stand around and act like he is better than everyone else? Meanwhile, we are tossing grenades into the sky so we don’t get blown to fucking bits. It’s nuts.”
Angie took the drive over to her computer. “Hell, yeah, it is. Fuck this guy. Let’s teach him a motherfucking lesson, shall we?”
Katie walked out of the front doors dressed in jeans, a hoodie, gloves, and a hat this time. Everyone looked at her, eyeing her up and down. They slowly went quiet, stopping their chants and conversations and shushing everyone else. Katie needed these people to understand that this didn’t need to continue. The Fuck Angels guy was looking down at his phone, reading the information Angie was releasing in the condo upstairs. His face was white, and he had dropped his sign on the ground.
Katie took a deep breath and looked around. “Things are bad now, I know. We watch these demons tear through our people, with little hope that we will be able to stand up to them when it’s our time to face them. Then things get better sometimes, and there is a period of calm, but it only ever lasts for a little while. That is heartbreaking; trust me, I know. I’ve been watching this since before the masses knew it was an issue.”
Several people had taken out their phones and were recording and broadcasting her talking. Katie continued, ignoring them. “We can’t give in to fear of the others, or fear of one another. I know something about being a little afraid. I know something about being very afraid, hopeless, and shaken to the very core of my being.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “I never thought I would be fighting demons. In fact, I never thought anything like that would exist outside of movies. But here I am, waking up every day to fight for another sunrise, another sunset. You can see now that Kyle has been stoking all your fears. He was hoping, and probably still is, that you would use those fears to tear each other apart. Don’t let him win. And don’t just blindly trust my words, either. Use the sense that God gave you to decide for yourselves by paying attention to every act I do to make this world safe again.”
Katie nodded and began to turn around, stopping as both sides began to applaud. She chuckled and turned back, thanking them. One of the Fuck Angels people pulled her coat closed and buttoned it up. She looked nervous but stepped forward. “What did Kyle belie
ve?”
Katie shook her head. “I have no idea. I think he believed in money. That was about it. The more he could make, the better.”
The original Fuck Angels guy looked upset but no longer angry. “Do you think he will explain himself?”
Katie shrugged. “I don’t know. But does it matter? You now know he is a fraud, which should make anything he says irrelevant. Be you. Let the hate go. We need each other right now.”
One of the Halo protestors put her sign down. “You said you didn’t know you would be fighting demons. What did you do before this?”
Katie smiled, taking questions from the groups. She let them video her and answered to the best of her ability. It was good for the group to see she was not just an angel, but a person too. She could see in their eyes that their minds were already changing.
Brock held his arm out straight, clenching and unclenching his leather-covered hand. He pulled on the glove to make sure it came up far enough and flinched slightly as the hawk landed, flapping its wings. Korbin chuckled, feeding his bird a snack. “First time hawking?”
Brock stared at the hawk. “Uh, yeah. First time around a bird, first time in Bahrain, first time out with a prince, and first time hunting anything, really.”
The prince was up ahead with his team of guards and assistants. He had invited them to come out hawking with him, hunting some birds that he wanted to present at dinner that night. It was definitely out of Brock’s comfort zone. “Have you been hawking before?”
Korbin shook his head. “No, never. In fact, I thought it was an outdated sport, not something anyone actually did anymore. I imagine people in medieval times doing this, and then jumping on their horses and heading back to their fair maidens in their castles with moats.”
Brock laughed. “That is exactly what I was picturing. I guess it’s an experience, which is good to have. This was definitely not on my radar, though, when you said sure, come build forts with me. It’ll be hard work, but enjoyable. Oh, and by the way, you might be out in the woods with a prince and a large bird, letting it hunt its own kind.”