by Michael Todd
Astaroth groaned. If I could slap my forehead right now, I would. I would shake my head and continue to slap myself in the forehead until I was unconscious. At least I could live past the embarrassment.
Max gritted his teeth and flipped over. He hauled up his legs as the demon jumped, then shifted back, put his weight on his shoulder blades, and thrust his legs out as hard as he could. The creature tried desperately to hold on, but its claws ripped through Max’s pants and it catapulted across the old cellar. It smacked against the wall with a small whimper and slid down into a sprawled heap.
The demon sat with its legs out and arms to its side, closely resembling a fat rat with an unruly head of hair. Only its body was covered in scales, and its belly was pink and brown.
It looked up, its eyes red and its face sad. After a moment, it pulled itself to its feet and groaned as it dusted cement chunks off its chest and stomach. The big red eyes looked defeated with its eyebrows wide and shifted down to each side of its face. For a moment, Max almost felt sorry for it, but it hissed and snarled at him and scrambled away across the floor. It made a wide turn, and its claws scraped against the floor before they found traction and thrust it up the steps. The skittering of its claws against the stone continued for a while until it disappeared out of earshot.
Max exhaled a deep breath and his head fell back, his eyes trained on the ceiling. Astaroth half-laughed and half-grumbled to him, I take all this time to train your ass. I put my knowledge and expertise to work for you, and what do I see in return? You get beat up by a two-foot mole with red eyes. I don’t give a shit how smart he seemed.
The priest rolled his eyes and rubbed his face with his dirty hands. Suddenly, a voice echoed from deep inside the well. “Max! Grab the rope, dammit! Oh, shit…whoaaaa!”
He rolled over and scrabbled across the ground on all fours to fumble for the rope. It had momentarily wedged itself between the stones, and he managed to get hold of it a second before it lost traction. He gripped it tightly and began to pull, hand over hand. He braced a leg against the edge of the well and, grunting with effort, he wound the rope around his arm and hauled it over to loop it around the pole.
Max tugged on the knot for a moment to test it before he felt comfortable enough to let go. Slowly, he shuffled over to the well and rested his hands on the edge. He dragged in a deep breath and puffed the air out. Cautiously, he looked over the edge into the darkness below.
From where he was, he couldn’t see anything, and he also couldn’t tell if he had caught the rope in time. He cleared his throat and yelled into the well. “Damian?” His voice echoed mockingly back to him.
Damian’s eyes were clenched tightly, and his hat had fallen off a few minutes before. Something scraped uncomfortably against his cheek as he swung gently from side to side. He had waited for impact but felt himself jerk to an abrupt and painful halt. Now he hung face-down and clutched the rope strung around his waist tightly. He dangled there for several moments while dust and shards of stone fell around him.
Everything in him wanted to erupt in rage at that moment, and he didn’t even want to consider the awful reality that he had to make it down the rest of the way without Max accidentally killing him.
Ravi sniffed. I can’t see anything. Your eyes are closed. Are we alive? I don’t want to look. Blood makes me squeamish.
He blew the dust out of his nose and shook himself as best he could, and the white particles drifted off of him in a cloud. Warily, he opened one eye and released the air from his lungs. He was suspended barely an inch from the floor. With every sway, his cheek brushed against his flashlight. It took a little effort, but he was able to grasp the rope and right himself. He grunted as he put his feet on the ground.
A little shaken by his almost-demise, he smoothed his hair back with his hands and spat the dust out of his mouth. When he narrowed his eyes and squinted up the hole to the light shining at the top, Max no longer looked down. That was probably the best choice for him.
Chapter Two
I seriously think you should kick him in the junk when he gets down here, Ravi said angrily.
Several more chunks of stone struck the floor. Damian sniffed and managed to keep a straight face. I don’t really think a kick in the junk is the answer to this problem, but I appreciate your problem-solving skills.
The demon scoffed. If it were me, I would start kicking and not stop until he was a nun.
He pressed his lips together and leaned against the wall with his arms folded. If you make me laugh, I won’t be able to convince him that I’m serious.
Max’s legs dangled within sight, and he rappelled carefully to the bottom. He untied the knot in the rope attached around his waist, wiped his forehead, and whistled. “That was a lot farther than I thought. I thought I would have to rappel for no more than a minute or two. Of course, I had a scare there when I thought the rope was a little loose, but in the end, it was easy-peasy. No worries.”
The whole time he talked, he faced away from Damian. He didn’t notice the scowl on the older man’s face or that he regarded him unflinchingly with an expression of serious displeasure. Max continued his soliloquy as he released the rope and left it to dangle there. “I guess I should leave this in case we end up having to go back up that way. I wouldn’t want us to be trapped down here or anything.”
He turned, stopped in his tracks, and swallowed hard when he saw the red glare directed at him from across the well. Ravi blew up inside of Damian. Is he not even going to apologize? Easy-peasy? I will easy-peasy my foot right up his dick hole, that’s what I’ll do.
Damian sniffed and raised an eyebrow. “I want you to know that my demon has threatened your manhood more times than I have heard in the previous decade from her. Now, if I were an asshole, I would do what she suggested, but I don’t think I want to get near your manhood at this point.”
Max grimaced. “Yeah, I’m sorry I almost dropped you. It really was an accident, and I got back to you as soon as I possibly could.”
The priest stepped forward, his eyes blinking wildly and his mouth slightly open. “Almost? Almost? The hair on my cheek brushed the cement below my face. The flashlight still worked, but the case was in pieces. ‘Almost’ doesn’t really account for what went on. What in the hell happened up there? Did you take a smoke break? Grab a sandwich?”
“A sandwich sounds really good right— Yeah, no, that’s the wrong answer,” the younger man replied and made an effort to regroup. “There was a demon up there. He was about the size of a chihuahua, but he was vicious.”
Max bared his teeth, put his hands up beside his face, and scratched them in the air. “See the blood on my face? He scratched me, then tackled my ankles. He was as fast as hell. And then there was the dagger; he stabbed that into my suit. I will seriously need a new set of uniform pants, and probably a jacket.”
Damian tapped his foot, not at all amused by the story he was hearing. “So, you’re telling me you almost killed me because a tiny demon stabbed your sleeve? You are making this worse for yourself.”
Max tried to explain, but he had started to stutter nervously, and everything he said seemed to dig a deeper hole. Finally, after close to ten minutes of babbling, Damian put his hand up and silenced him. “It doesn’t matter now. We need to get this job over and done with.”
The priest hauled his bag in front of him and retrieved the map from the front pouch, then spread it out, pressing it against the wall. With a sigh of exasperation, he looked over his shoulder and stared at Max and his flashlight.
Max caught the hint and hurried over. “Right. Light. Sorry.”
He flipped the flashlight on and watched as Damian determined where they were within the catacombs of the church. “It looks like we follow this passage down and to the left. We will find a dead-end hallway with several rooms attached to it. The Secretary said they didn’t know exactly where it was, but it would be somewhere in there.”
The younger man nodded. “Okay, and what does this thing look like?”
Damian flipped up the edge of the map where something had been scribbled. “It’s a vase, apparently very old, and most likely not very shiny. There will be etchings on the side and an insignia on the bottom.”
He pulled out his phone, flipped through the messages to find the picture that Maps had sent him, and held it up in front of his companion’s face. “This should be what it looks like. It could be really easy to find, or we might walk into every single one of those rooms and find them stacked to the brim with artifacts. So, take a good look at this picture and remember it. We want to be in and out of here as fast as possible. And please, if there are other things, don’t touch them. This collection belongs to this church. We are simply lifting what should be in the main church.”
Max nodded. “Yeah, don’t touch anything else, no matter how cool it is. Keep your hands in your pockets. Got it.”
Damian glanced at him as he rolled the map up. “Did your mom teach you that when you were a kid? Is that what it takes to have enough willpower to not touch anything?”
The trainee opened his mouth to explain, but Damian shook his head. “Never mind. No need to tell me. Just give me the backup flashlight in your pack. I put it in there because I didn’t have room. My other one isn’t very useful anymore.”
Max shrugged, retrieved the second flashlight, and made sure it worked before he handed it over. The two made their way through the crypt. They had no idea what to expect, so they remained on their guard. He looked curiously at their surroundings and the old, dusty pictures that hung on the black stone walls.
Astaroth grumbled, It looks like they dug these tunnels out by hand. Actually, it almost looks like what I would expect hell to look like if it ever froze over.
He wrinkled his nose. That’s comforting to know. Does hell smell like old boots and mold?
More like rotten eggs and decaying flesh. Astaroth sighed as if he were reminiscing.
The two men turned the corner and found themselves at the beginning of the dead-end hallway. Damian nodded toward the first room on the right. “We will check the rooms up front first. Then we’ll go one by one until we find it.”
Max shook his head, pleased that his courage seemed to come back fairly quickly these days. He wasn’t sure if they would face a demon, a ghost, or nothing, but he was ready for it. When they reached the door of the first room, his mentor tapped the doorknob carefully, as he always did, and then turned it and pushed the door wide open. They both shined their lights into the interior and carefully took a couple of steps inside.
When Damian had confirmed there was no entity present, he put his gun down and walked farther inside. Max’s eyes went wide. “It’s a damn library. Look at all these books! Some are even hand-sewn and bound. How gorgeous is all of this?”
He wandered through, shining his flashlight down the rows of books, and mumbling the titles to himself. Ravi giggled. I think he might squirt in his pants right now. We are witnessing a very intimate scene—a priest and his old dusty books.
Damian warily walked around the whole room. He pulled books out and put them back to make sure there was no secret entrance. When he was satisfied, he went back to the door. Max hadn’t noticed his actions, and the older priest cleared his throat. “Dude, we gotta move on to the next room. There’s no time for this, remember?”
The young man nodded but still didn’t look at him. His mentor rolled his eyes, grabbed the trainee by the forearm, and yanked him across the hall to the next room. This one was a lot less exciting. It was obviously a priest’s bedroom, with a twin bed and a desk and a few scrolls lying on the top of it. A crucifix hung on the wall.
Max eyed it for a moment. “This is one of those creepy Jesus statues. It feels like his eyes are glaring into you. I know the old saying is that he is with me always, but hopefully he’s not looking like the creepy guy next door peeking over the bushes.”
Damian laughed and smacked him hard on the back. “Come on, we gotta keep moving.”
He followed his mentor out and stayed behind him as they moved down the hallway. Max jumped, then hastily stamped his foot down hard on a spider. He cringed and shivered. I hate spiders with a passion. Like, with the fire of a thousand suns.
Astaroth laughed loudly. After all this, your true fears emerge. It wasn’t the toxic waste or the demons or the ghouls, it was damn spiders. You are a grown-ass man. You should not be afraid of spiders.
Max wiped his boot on the floor. I am a human, after all. We tend to fear things we don’t know, or we make up scary stories about them to make them not so threatening. But those scary stories only make them worse.
And what scary stories are there about spiders? The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout… The demon continued to sing and make fun of him.
He tried to simply ignore him as they wove through a maze of corridors that had been hidden to the right of the hallway. None of them offered a way out, but all of them had the potential to hold the artifact—and all of them were dark and damp, even more so the farther they went in.
Damian stopped and squinted at a short inscription on the door of the next room. “This might actually be it.”
Cautiously, they pushed open the door, which was already ajar, and walked inside. They scanned the room with the flashlights and finally settled the beams on a podium in the left-hand corner of the room where their prize waited conveniently for them. Damian looked at Max and raised an eyebrow. “At least it’s the only thing in here that looks like what we’re seeking. It makes our job a little easier.”
The priest crossed to the artifact and studied it for a second, then shrugged and lifted it off the stand. His gaze flicked around, and he laughed with wry amusement. “For a second, I seriously thought this would be an Indiana Jones moment—the whole boulder chase or shrinking room.”
Max shook his head. “As long as it’s not the eating the monkey brains or a bunch of spiders, I am good to go. Boulders I can run from, no problem. But wait…if you’re Indiana Jones, does that make me Short Round?”
Shuffling footsteps behind them intruded before Damian could answer. They turned quickly as two men and the tiny demon stepped out of the shadows. Max’s mouth dropped open, and he pointed angrily at the demon. “There’s that little bastard. I told you!”
The creature hissed and screeched at him, and one of the men patted him on the head. “Now, now, little Coco. There’s no need to hold a grudge against this priest. He was only doing his job.”
The man had a Russian accent, and his eyes glistened red. His companion had come from the same mold and stepped forward with a grin. “We waited here for you since we were unsure if that was the artifact. But now that you have shown us…”
The first man put his hand out. “You can hand it over, and we’ll be on our way.”
Damian looked at the artifact and shrugged. “Well, I guess if you waited—”
He threw the vase to Max, who fumbled the catch but managed to make a somewhat awkward save and smiled widely as his mentor launched himself at the men. The demon growled and barreled directly at the young priest, who shrieked and tossed the artifact ceilingward. Max caught the vase while punting Coco across the floor.
Damian battled the two Russians hand to hand. He swiped his arm across to strike the first in the jugular and ducked as the other attempted to punch him. The second swung wide, missed the priest, and smacked his cohort in the nose. The first man fell with a loud groan as Damian straightened.
The second Russian smirked as he bobbed from one foot to the other. “Not bad for an old man.”
“Wahhhh,” Max yelled behind him as he fought the demon.
Damian shook his head and focused on his adversary. He stopped moving and swiped his finger across his nose. “You people have to stop calling me old.”
With that, he lunged forward and rammed his fist under the man’s chin. The Russian’s head snapped back, and he stumbled into a bookshelf. Several books tumbled around him, but he ignored them. He shook t
he dizziness off and attacked Damian once more, but the priest was prepared.
His special metal cross glistened in the dim illumination of the flashlights, and the Russian hissed and raised his arm. The priest chanted his exorcism and brandished the cross at one man and then the other. The first Russian shook wildly, and a demon rose from his chest. He subsided into unconsciousness as the demon screeched and vanished. Damian didn’t pause, however, and backed the second man against the wall.
“By God’s word, amen,” Damian shouted.
His target teetered for a moment, then collapsed and writhed on the floor. Behind Damian, the small demon screeched and gave Max one final punch before it scurried past the two unconscious men and out the door. After the second man’s demon disappeared, the priest put his cross away and turned to shake his head at the trainee.
Chapter Three
Damian closed the door of the SUV and released a deep sigh. He stared at St. Oswald’s and remembered the only other time he had been there. He had been young—or younger, at least—and had taken a tour of the place and gawked at its splendor. Now all he could see were the catacombs full of secrets below.
Ravi grunted. You are awfully sentimental about an old-ass church.
Not the church, Ravi. Merely the idea that it all seems to be shrouded in secrets, he replied as he put the SUV in Drive.
He accelerated out of the parking lot and over a bump in the road. Max groaned quietly where he sat with his leg propped up on the dashboard. Damian glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and grimaced at the shredded fabric of his pant leg. “Is that a new trend you’re trying to set? I think from what I saw of London fashion last time I went out, if you add a little floral to it, you might be onto something. You could become an accidental fashion icon.”
Max took a piece of gauze from the first aid kit and dabbed it lightly on the scratch marks on his arms and legs. There wasn’t much that needed attention, but from the looks of it, the trainee needed a little comfort for his ego.