by Michael Todd
That one is a keeper. You could probably have better senses if you had a drink before you go into the exorcisms. I mean, it loosens you up a bit.
He cringed. Too loose and we’ll be plummeting to hell with the other demons. That poltergeist was an interesting one.
She would be considered a hybrid. She was technically a lost soul, but at the same time, she was capable of taking on a demon body, which you saw when she exploded all over you. They can be tricky. The one you faced today was dumb.
Damian listened to her talk, figuring the whiskey and the intro into the day’s events was a very good start.
Chapter Nine
Later that same night, after Damian had retired to his room early for the first time in a month, Max came shuffling out of the kitchen. He carefully carried a hot cup of chamomile tea and a bowl of lavender chocolate-chip ice cream. Letting out a deep breath, he set the items down on the small table next to the overstuffed chairs and plopped down. He clicked on the TV and lowered the volume so it didn’t disturb Damian.
Max propped his pajama-clad legs up on the ottoman and grabbed his bowl of ice cream. He lifted the bowl to his nose and took in a deep whiff. It was something he hadn’t had since he was back living with his parents. Everyone said it was the oddest of combinations, but it was something his mother used to make him when they had a movie night. This was the first time he had really sat down and relaxed since he got there.
He flipped the large flat screen to the main menu and started searching. “Okay, Damian, soaps are your thing, huh? I guess if me and you are going to start bonding, I should get caught up.”
Max had never watched an entire soap before, only the bits and pieces of the ones he caught when he was a kid and his mom turned them on. He hadn’t been much of a television-watcher anyway, but especially not after joining the church. They weren’t exactly the television-watching kind of crowd. When he was in his training area before coming over to meet up with Damian, they didn’t have a single television in the place. It was old-school monk-like conditions, which was good for focus, but he couldn’t help but be bored to tears most days. It was the most he’d prayed in his whole life.
He found the list of soaps and started going down the names and descriptions. Finally, he settled on one that apparently had demons, angels, and all sorts of things that sounded like his current stage in life. He wasn’t sure if he would like it, but he would give it his best college try.
You have disappointed me on yet another full level, his demon said with irritation.
Max sat up a little straighter in his chair, looking around before remembering that it was his demon. He had spent a lot of time suppressing him during his training, and he almost forgot he had one sometimes.
He cleared his throat. Astaroth, you are still in there.
Yes, well, you spent enough time ignoring me with those stupid church exercises. I figured I would let you think it was working. Besides, until today, you offered me no sense of intellectual stimulation, so I figured why bother? I’d rather be alone with my own thoughts than listen to the constant human drivel around you.
Max shook his head. You really know how to make friends.
Astaroth laughed. Friends? I am a demon, and you are a human. Not just any human either. You are His human, devoting your life to God. It’s the most disgusting type of meat sack.
Okay…so why are you talking to me now? And not all demons have to be enemies with their human counterparts. Look at Katie and her demon.
The demon groaned. Don’t get me started on that one. From what I hear, she has the devil’s wife inside of her. Of course, it could be just a rumor. If not, it makes sense. That demon always had a non-demon side to her. She was never fully committed to the lifestyle. It was a shame, really. She’s powerful as hell.
So why can’t we be friends?
Astaroth scoffed. First of all, I don’t ‘friend’ outside my species. Secondly, I don’t make friends. And third, even if you were someone that I could see not ripping your head off your shoulders, you killed it with the bullshit you have playing on the television.
Max looked up at the screen, almost forgetting what he was watching. Yeah, it’s something entertaining to watch—or at least, I hope it is.
This is another thing wrong with your kind. You always have to be entertained. Entertain that piece of meat in your skull and read a book.
He wrinkled his forehead. I do read, thank you. A lot actually. I simply haven’t had any good material since I became infected. They don’t really bend to your every need in the military or the church.
Astaroth sighed, not really listening. You know who I do like? Who I could probably have very good conversations with? Your mentor, Damian. He’s serious, smart, likes to understand things better, and he doesn’t take shit from other humans. It’s a good thing he is your mentor. You should make it your goal to be more like him. Maybe then we could be friends, or whatever you call it.
Max groaned, shoving ice cream in his mouth. You sound just like my parents.
I thought humans kept close connections to their parents. Some sort of bond thing.
He tilted his head back and forth, swallowing his ice cream. I mean, I really do love my parents. Growing up they were my best friends. It was the three of us against the world—
Oh, how lovely. He could almost feel Astaroth grimace.
Max ignored him. When I got older, they always told me that I should be more serious. More serious about school, about my future, about everything. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but hell, I was enjoying life. I’m only twenty-three. All my friends were out partying and being fools. I was going to church and studying. Wasn’t sure how much more serious I could become.
Are…are we having a moment? If we are, I’m dipping.
He chuckled. No, merely explaining why I am the way I am, I guess. You are welcome to watch the show with me.
That sounds riveting. What’s Damian doing?
Max glanced at his door, but there was no light underneath. Looks like he is asleep. He’s been up reading every night that I’ve been here. I am assuming he was tired after today. Besides, I wanted to have a chance to catch up on the soaps since Damian asked me if I liked them. Apparently, it’s something he likes to watch.
Astaroth moaned loudly. Nooo! This whole time, I’ve been telling myself being stuck in your head won’t be so bad as long as I can talk to Damian on occasion. This is the most disheartening thing in years. I can’t even tell you how much that saddens me. And to think I was starting to believe intelligence did exist on this planet. No wonder no other beings have come here. The stupidity emanates through the ionosphere of your planet.
He smiled. Apparently, Katie and her demon got him hooked on them.
And another victim falls to Lilith’s ridiculous wants and needs. I am shamed by the fact I share a species with her.
Oh, chill out. It’s not the end of the world—yet. There is nothing wrong with a guilty pleasure. At least, most humans think that way. As for me, I’ve got to be picky because of my devotion to God and the church.
Gross, Astaroth snarled.
Max paused the show. Okay. You seem like you’ve been around the block a time or two. Tell me about your times on Earth. I’m sure this isn’t the first.
The demon grunted. Hardly. I try to spend as little time below with the idiot demons and as much time up here taking in the culture. Oh, the culture this world has. It’s magnificent. I’ve spent time all over the world, seen the sunsets in Dubai, walked the streets of nineteenth-century France, and taken in shows on Broadway under the lights. I’ve watched DaVinci, Degas, and Rockwell create masterpieces. I’ve seen walls come down and walls go up. Death, carnage, war, and defeat.
Wow. That’s intense. Now I understand a bit more why you are the way you are. What was your favorite time?
Astaroth took the question seriously. I would have to say the time I spent here, right in this beautiful city of London. It was the eighteenth century.
Wait. Wasn’t the eighteenth century a time of sickness, filth, and decay in London? I mean, after the fire in 1666 and the rush of people, London built the place back up in a hurry.
He sniffed. Yes, well, I am a demon. I still got to live in the lap of luxury and secretly smirk at the death and decay that peppered the streets all around me. I lived with James Cook in a small but grand apartment in the center of the city.
James Cook, the explorer?
I am impressed. I didn’t think you would know who he is.
Max sat up a little taller in his seat. He found New Zealand and mapped the ocean. I thought he spent most of his time in Australia or something like that.
Astaroth stumbled for a second, not expecting a factual conversation with any level of intelligence. Yes, well, he had an apartment by the appointment of the king in London. We shared it while I was there. Anyway, it was the heyday of philosophy, and I would travel to France, Italy, and so many other places, listening to stories, watching plays, and taking in the arts. My human had begun as a beggar, but I took him and quickly made him into a proper gentleman. I couldn’t wade through the waste with the rest of the Londoners.
He shook his head. That sounds like such an amazing thing to witness. All that history at your fingertips. In fact, you were helping to create it, even if you merely took in the art and theatre. The eighteenth century was a time of so many important men all over the world. Let’s see. There was Aaron Burr, Alexander Hamilton—
Yes, I heard they made a play about him, something to do with this musical style called rap.
Max laughed, holding his stomach. True, it’s very popular. On top of that, there was Marie Antoinette, Mozart, and the list goes on and on.
Maximus, I have to say, I am surprised you know any of this.
He flipped the soap back on and shrugged. I’ve always been book smart. I can retain just about anything that I read. I’ve merely never found much use for any of it. Who cares about history these days?
Astaroth gasped. What kind of deep level of hell did I fall into?
Max shook his head. I simply mean that they don’t teach the full history in school. No history professors make it much beyond a teaching job at a college, and no one seems to learn much from the mistakes of the past. So, what would I do with a brain full of knowledge that nobody needs?
The demon was speechless for a moment. I don’t know what happened to the world. Go on, let’s see this soap opera you speak of. Does it have opera?
He giggled. No, it’s a dramatic daytime television show.
Astaroth grew quiet, watching the opening scenes. When the show began, there was a pair of lovers in an embrace, tears streaming from the woman’s eyes. “No, Eduardo, you must not go back! Those portals lead straight to the gates of hell. You will never survive.”
Astaroth choked. Tell him, sister. Humans melt like ice cream on a hot day down there.
The screen switched sides, showing a close-up of the man’s face. He had tanned skin and a perfect mustache, and his hair was slicked back on his head. He shook his head and rubbed his hand over his face. “Oh, Maria, you know I have to go. They have taken my daughter, and I have to get her back. They said I can trade my own soul for hers.”
That’s not how it works. This is the dumbest shit I have ever seen. And shit, the acting in outdoor theatre in 1779 was better than this. Astaroth was not enjoying himself, but oddly, he had a hard time looking away.
They continued watching the show as the scenes switched back and forth to different couples and families facing certain death at the hands of demons. It was definitely not something very realistic, but it did go along with the present-day war pretty well. Max was hooked, shoveling ice cream in his mouth and not even blinking at the screen.
Astaroth watched but still made snide comments. Humans are so stupid. Don’t they know love is a chemical reaction? You can love anyone. Why would you sacrifice yourself to hell for someone else?
For someone who seems to know everything, you sure don’t know anything about caring for other people.
The demon cleared his throat proudly. And that is one of my greatest achievements, thank you very much.
Max grew quiet again and stared at the screen as the show played on. By the end of it, he was on the edge of his seat, and Astaroth was completely enthralled. Max put his hands to his forehead then gestured at the television as the show ended. How can Avery think he can leave Alissa like that? She is literally strapped to the gateway to hell!
Astaroth clicked his tongue. Not to mention the fact that Lucifer does not make deals like that. But that aside, I thought he loved her. She will be devastated when he tells her he has been cheating with Tonya, and that Tonya is pregnant.
Yeah, but did you see Charles’ face? I think that baby is his, not Avery’s. I think she played a player on that one.
The demon gasped. You sure as hell might be right about that one, priest. For a man of God, you certainly are perceptive of these things.
I may be a priest, but I am a human being too, remember?
Astaroth stared at the screen. Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s watch the next one. We have a lot to catch up on to get where Damian has probably stopped. And get another bowl of that ice cream. It’s fucking delicious.
Max threw his hands out. I know, right? People always look at me funny when I ask for it. I have to have it made specially and shipped to me.
Well, we will have to keep that coming.
He paused for a minute, realizing that the demon had, in a matter of forty minutes, gone from his biggest hater to a gabbing girl watching soap operas. A little startled, he got up from the chair and walked into the kitchen. Never did I think I would be watching soaps with my demon. Even if you are a judgmental bastard.
Astaroth didn’t skip a beat. Language!
Chapter Ten
The lights in the streetlamps flickered on and off as a huge storm raged overhead. No one was out as it was well past midnight, and although the streets of London were usually packed all the time, the storm had driven them inside. The water washed over roofs and down into the streets, running like rivers into the drainage pipes.
In the dark, three robed priests carrying black umbrellas ran through the shadows and down into the center of London. They stopped at the black wrought-iron gate on the side of the building and looked around. One of the priests shielded his eyes as he tilted his head up, staring at the tall steeple lit by the clashing lightning overhead.
In front of them, a large wooden door inched slowly open, and another priest stuck his head out, waving the three inside. “Hurry! And be quiet. We are running out of time.”
The three fathers entered the stairwell, closing and latching the door behind them. They set their umbrellas by the door and followed the priest down the winding stone staircase into the catacombs beneath the church. Their robes dragged along the dusty stone floor behind them as they hurried toward a secret chamber in the back.
The one leading them stopped and held up his lantern. “This room hasn’t been used in hundreds of years. It was the meeting place for Father Abbot when he fought the demons.”
One of the three men waved the explanation away. “We can have a history lesson later,” he grumbled. “Where is Father Brinkley?”
The priest opened the door and stepped to the side. “We are all meeting in here.”
More than a dozen priests were gathered around a large wooden table. Father Brinkley stood at the head, listening to everyone yell back and forth. They were in dire straits, and the demon problem within their congregation had grown to the point where they could no longer control it.
One of the priests slammed his hand on the table. “We leave. We go to the Wise Men, and we let them take care of it. Whoever can be saved, they will save. We know this.”
Another priest shook his head. “And show them how incompetent we are? We couldn’t even hold on to our own congregation long enough to get rid of the demons? We’ll all
be sent to the farthest reaches of the Earth to serve the church.”
Father Brinkley put his hand in the air. “Everyone quiet down. Quiet! We need to keep level heads about all this. We cannot start screaming back and forth at each other. This is a situation our church has never faced before, and it must be handled with care, discretion, and under God’s instruction. We are all sensible men in this room. Let’s not allow our fears to throw us into a frenzy. That is merely the work of the devil.”
The priests took their seats and sat quietly, waiting for Father Brinkley to continue. He paced back and forth, holding his hands together beneath the large bell sleeves of his robes. He was the leader of the church but was at a loss as to what to do at that point.
One of the priests cleared his throat. “Why don’t you tell us where we are with all this? Recap it for those that haven’t been here on a daily basis.”
Father Brinkley nodded. “We have been dealing with a demon problem for a while now. They started to infiltrate right after Incursion Day. At first, the church and our leaders had us exorcising anyone who we found under the influence of a demon. Those whom we couldn’t exorcise or didn’t want it, we put through courses on how to live under God’s law with a demon inside them. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. Some of the infected went on to join the military, and some even joined the church.”
His assistant handed him a glass of water. “Have a drink, sir. Calm your nerves.”
The father patted him kindly on the shoulder. “Anyway, we thought we had the perfect answer to ridding London of the infected. However, after the latest news of attacks and the destabilization of the region due to demon outbreaks, things have started to take a turn for the worse. Only two days ago, we discovered a cell inside our congregation. These men and women were using our faithful congregation as a pool for their sacrifices. They would take people and give their souls over to Satan. They are building an army out of our people.”