“You might know that Lucifer hated evil, but to achieve his goal, he can use demons as pawns and toss them aside later on with no regrets. I don’t want that to happen. The demons, the ultra-demons, they wouldn’t understand such conception of mine, but later, they will worship me because of what I’ll set into motion. I move according to the future, Mr. Socrates. And in future, I see the fate of hell in danger after Lucifer’s rise.”
“That’s a pretty badass speech!” Balthazar quipped as he interrupted the intimidating silence. “Oops. Sorry. I didn’t mean to...you know.”
“That also dissolves my suspicion. Thank you for the information. I must be
going.”
“No, wait.” Death clasped his forehead in thought. He ran a hand through his hair and said, “You need to execute a job. Three djinns are dead, Caspar. They are
dead. Only one is left before they are able to perform the ritual. I need you to find the last djinn. You need to stop Manfred Croft before he wrecks the entire order of this world. You need to save the last djinn.”
Caspar looked at Balthazar as he replied, “I am new here, but I live on this planet and I really don’t fancy the thought of raising Lucifer so he could disturb the peace which I am granted here on Earth. So being superstitious or not, I am in.”
“All right,” Caspar said, a small smirk breaking across his face. “May I know where the last djinn is?”
***
It was Baphothem, the same goat-headed he’d seen not too long ago. He was sure of it. Standing several yards away in that diner was Baphothem. A pagan deity mistaken as the devil in many cultures. He shook his head, hoping that it was all a dream. But he knew he couldn’t escape the demon as it silently crawled toward him.
Welcome to my world? What the hell does that mean?
Was he in some alternate universe where a diner is actually a personification of Earth and the humans are projections from the circuits of his subconscious, playing him and deluding him? It seemed real. Too real.
He rubbed his cheeks that had turned pink with warmth. He had this habit whenever he was nervous or frightened. Plain delight scratched his arm, his cheeks, his forehead, and his lips. He was sure it was not nervousness, but rather bafflement.
The people looked at him strangely. Some ignored him. Some continued to watch the game on TV. Caspar turned back, thinking they were figments of his
imagination. As he turned, he found no one there. The goat-headed demon had disappeared.
It was too much for him. He was the only who could see it. Yet now, he saw nothing. This was more than he had bargained for. He had never witnessed a creature of such mystery.
The booth on his right was empty. He approached it and sat down. He kept his head down on the table until he fell asleep. It was a weird thing, as he never had a habit of falling asleep in seconds. When he awoke, he found that the horizon was beautifully painted with the sun, an orange-colored pelt looking down upon the deserted mountains. A dark blanket of night soon rolled in with dusky clouds stringing their magnificent thunder across the odd diner.
Only few people were left. Families were gone and in their place stood men with strange behaviors and women in groups who talked non-stop about their nail polish and their make-up. The flavored smell of steak was now no more, but the bacon scent still lingered.
“If you don’t order anything, I am sorry, but I’ll have to kick you out.” The pregnant woman stood before him. “Oh, wait, I am not sorry, because I can’t say sorry.” She rolled her angry eyes at him.
“I – I . . .” He took the menu card from her and scanned it quickly. “Cheeseburger...I want a cheeseburger.”
“The diner is not open for twenty-four hours, so you better get your ass out of this place soon.”
Caspar looked at the menu and then back at the pregnant lady. If it wasn’t for her belly, she would have gotten a sound scolding from him, but he kept his retorts to himself.
“I ordered something,” he quipped. “There’s a saying, give the customer what they want. Right now, I really don’t see you giving the customer – me, what I’ve requested.”
Her cheeks flushed with color. She didn’t say anything, but Caspar could feel the heavy pounding of her heart thumping against her soft skin. She moved toward the counter without looking back.
Caspar’s burger soon arrived. With cheese between two buns and a steak, tomatoes on the sides, pickles, on top of the crust, he began eating. For some reason, he was hungry. He licked his fingers, trying to lick the ketchup off his fingers and hummed under his breath.
“Mmmm, mmm. This is good,” he said loudly toward the chef, who stared blankly at him.
He finished the burger and the plate was taken. He looked up as several chimes that only he could hear sounded, yet he wasn’t sure as to where they were coming from. Looking about, his gaze landed on a being standing in front of an obese man holding its human hands above the man. A grave look crossed Caspar’s face as he tried to decipher as to what the goat-headed man was actually doing.
He stood and walked forward. The demon didn’t pay attention to him. He didn’t even turn his head toward Caspar. He just stood there with his hand hovering above the fat man who was busy eating his oily food. Caspar kept his eyes on the both of them, preparing for what was going to happen. Granted, he was unsure as to what the demon was going to do.
It was intriguing. He was actually enjoying the mystery of how he had ended up there, not to mention how he was ruthless toward everyone in the diner. There was also the fact that a demon with the head of a goat and long intertwining horns was
visible to only him. It was fun, but at the same time, he felt alienated. He didn’t belong there. He’d been plucked from Earth’s pastures and thrown into the ruggedness of a desert.
What Caspar didn’t see was that the demon was absorbing the energy around him. A sparkling, powdery substance floated into the air as it was withdrawn from the fat man and siphoned into the demon’s palms. The small nodules were barely visible. The demon’s eyes became a tad glassy as he dropped his hand. He moved closer to the man and breathed deeply to ingest the powder into his nostrils.
With a keen eye, Caspar saw that the man was near to fainting. His eyes were drooping, his hands weakening, the burger and the french fries dropping from his grasp. His lips quivered as his mouth began to dry and his cheeks grew pale. The demon drew himself back as he glanced in Caspar’s direction. A wicked gleam shined with his eyes, as if to say, ‘You are next.’
Caspar wasn’t scared. His brows arched with determination and a muscle twitched along his jaw. He took a moment to assess the demon. Its shoulders were not broad, but low and weak. It sighed deeply and turned away. He didn’t both to acknowledge Caspar. Instead, its aura was filled with tension and then he was gone.
He looked at the obese man. His eyes were wide open and his mouth twitched. He hit the ketchup filled plate and he seemed as if he were staring mindlessly at the floor. All his pulse, his heartbeat – they were gone. He was dead.
The pregnant lady stood beside him and shrieked, “Oh, damn!” Everyone’s attention turned toward them.
“He did it! He is the one who killed the man,” she cried as she pointed a finger pointed at Caspar.
Ca
tch Me if You Dare
Caspar saw a river, which overlooked a big mansion. He was standing in a clearing with a blue sky above and leaves all around as he slowly descended to the ground. Flocks of pigeons dotted the sky, fluttering across the landscape. The river jostled at the bank, meandering, twisting, and splashing upon the rocks.
He saw monkeys, jumping from one tree to another. Balthazar was almost bitten by one of them along the way. Unfortunately, it lost its teeth as it tried to sink into the gargoyle’s rocky body. He encountered flies of various kinds and insects that were trying to bite him, as well as stinging scorpions. Caspar walked ahead of him with his cane held high.
He still didn’t know what the cane was for. Was
it a weapon or was it...well...just a cane? En-route to his destination, he’d been in a bus with hippies. He’d tried all sorts of things to see if any of them worked, but there wasn’t any button or anything mechanical that could turn the cane into something else. There was just a big S instead of a handle.
He came close to the river with Balthazar at his side and stood there as he waited for someone. Capernaum had insisted that his apprentice, a Nephilim, (it was strange, a demon having an apprentice who is half mortal, half angel), accompany them. He didn’t need any help. He was never a person who needed someone’s help. He didn’t know why, either. He just disliked the company of people he wasn’t familiar with, though Balthazar was an exception. Altogether, he wasn’t really fond of newcomers.
He waited patiently. Patience. It was something he disliked. He would spit at patience, if it were an actual person. Yet because of patience, Manfred would soon be able to bring back Lucifer. Patience was important!
It was an easy plan. To save this Marid. Marid’s are the highest order of djinns. They are made of water and are the strongest of all. They had to bring him to Capernaum’s house where safety was of the highest order. Even Manfred could not enter there, unless he could somehow create a replica of himself, which was quite impossible.
Everything could go well if the Nephilim would arrive early. Yet he was taking his own time. Punctuality prevents chaos. That was Caspar’s saying. If you are at the right time at the right place, you can play god. As he stood there waiting, his mind began to wander.
***
“She is a very sweet girl,” he said. “I am sure she is,” Selena replied. “Do you think I am handsome?”
“I think you are the most handsome brother anyone would dream of.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t joke, please.”
“I am serious. You have golden eyes. That’s actually quite hot.” “Oh, I didn’t know that. Golden eyes are in fashion or what?” “You look like a sweet baby vampire,”
“I thought vampires aren’t sweet at all.” “Apparently, fiction novels differ from you.”
“I don’t like vampires. They scare me.”
“Someday, my little brother, they will be scared of you.” And then, she hugged him.
***
Balthazar shook his shoulder and Caspar came to his senses. “Where has your mind wandered to?”
“It’s nothing that concerns you!” Caspar snapped and moved forward. “Dear lord, where is this Nephilim? You know what really bugs me, Balthazar?”
“Even if I say no, you’d still tell me. So . . .”
“An unfamiliar person whom I’ve never met is going to help us and that bugs me. There is one thing I have learned and it’s to never trust a person. Most especially one who has skin.”
“Why did you trust me, then?”
Caspar mumbled unintelligibly. Balthazar brought his ears close to hear what he was saying, but he couldn’t make sense of his words. Maybe they were curses, maybe they weren’t.
“I didn’t get you.”
“You can’t. Your hands are too small.”
“I didn’t mean – oh, leave it! Just answer me, why did you trust me?” “You are made of stone. Not skin,” Caspar replied. “You also look dumb.” “Excuse me?”
“Not excused!” He stepped forward, breathing heavily. “How much time would it take for that nitwit to come?”
Caspar wrapped a muffler around his neck. It was too hot to wear a muffler, but he didn’t care. He used to wear this muffler as a lucky charm. It reminded him of someone he knew, someone he was close to. The person had knitted it especially for him. His mother...It seemed such a long time.
An unexpected voice broke through his reverie. “So you must be Caspar Socrates and this must be...the creature?”
“Balthazar.” “Um...yes.”
To Caspar’s amazement, things turned out to be completely unexpected. It was a girl’s voice. He’d thought it was a boy who had been a Nephilim, but it was a girl.
She strode out of the forest. She was beautiful. That thought caught him by surprise. He never found a girl beautiful. He was straight, but he never did have a keen interest in the opposite sex. He thought of them as nothing more than distractions that could break your heart on occasion and leave you sobbing in a gutter. That didn’t mean he didn’t consider them attractive. He did. He just had a habit of guarding himself when it came to women.
As he stared at the Nephilim, he found her quite attractive. Perhaps it was the way she looked, cunning, mischievous, naughty, and wild. Or perhaps it was because of her cupid’s face, round and chubby, with a slight touch of blush. Her lips were perfectly curved with a light red lipstick on it. Her big, deep eyes reminded him of the eyes of fish. Her hair was braided meticulously with knots and tails. She was tall, but not as he was. He stood a mere six-foot-three inches tall.
The Nephilim wasn’t dangerous. At least, she didn’t look dangerous. She looked like a model for Barbie; cute, yet strong. She wore a brown leather jacket
covering her tank top and shorts on her legs. A smooth carved dagger rested on her belt, dangling against her thighs.
She extended her hand toward him. “I am Ivy.”
Caspar was stunned. He found it hard to formulate what he wanted to say. He wasn’t one to blush or giggle shyly. In his eyes, it was atrocious to do. Yet he felt his cheeks grow warm. He tried to shrug off the feeling, but it was a bit difficult to do.
“Ah, I see,” he said as he stared at her hands as she held them before him. “Are you some fortune teller? You are seeing my future?”
“Oh, no, no. I see dirt and mud. Germs. I don’t want to get germs on my hands before we go into this mission.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. That’s perfectly normal coming from a person like you.” She chuckled and drew her hand back.
“What...? Was that sarcasm I heard?” he asked.
“Blah – blah,” she said in response, ignoring his query. “So, what is the plan?” He frowned. “Did – did she just ‘blah’ me?”
“Get in. Get the Marid and bring him back to Capernaum,” Balthazar said in hopes of diverting the tension that arose between them.
“Does the Marid know about our rescue operation?”
“Not really. They don’t contact anyone. They stay in their houses and do some strange magic stuff. They don’t care about anyone else on Earth. So we might have to
. . .”
“Kidnap him.”
“Sort of. He doesn’t know what’s coming at him. We can try persuading him, but then it’s a rare probability he will listen to us.”
Ivy snorted. “That’s ugly. We’ll try the other option for now. If he doesn’t listen, we’ll have to force him.”
“I am the captain here,” Caspar replied before they set off toward the mansion, sticking his nose up into air.
“All right, Mister Captain? What is your plan?” Ivy asked and grinned. “We’ll do what you said. Now, off we go!” He moved forward, trudging
deeper into the woods.
***
The mansion’s door loomed in front of Caspar. Ivy and Balthazar were staring resolutely at it, too. Caspar instructed Balthazar to make himself invisible in hopes of not upsetting the djinn.
“He won’t let us enter if he finds out I’m a Nephilim and there is an invisible gargoyle in the air?” Ivy cursed. “How should we do this then?”
“Just follow my lead,” he replied. “And one more thing before we set off, don’t try to get killed!”
He nodded at his companions and knocked upon the door. He waited. No one answered. He knocked again, this time with his cane. Someone peeped through the keyhole. An eye belonging to an old man with white lashes gazed back at them.
“What is it you kids want?” The voice was that of a frustrated eighty-year-old
man.
“Well, hello!” Caspar said cheerfully. Ivy and Balthazar looked surprised by the sudden change of his tone and his behavior. “My name is Caspar Socrates
and this is my fiancée, Ivy. Our car broke down out on the road. We are getting no signal here.
We saw your house and we thought of coming to you. I need to make a call and apologize for the intrusion. It would just take a minute, sir.”
The eye blinked several times. It looked at Caspar’s smiling face with suspicion. “Just one phone call?” the old man asked.
“Indeed,” he replied.
Ivy gave him her best actress smile. “All right.”
The eye vanished. They heard several pops and the sound of something sliding. The door opened to reveal a man with a crooked back and red spots across his face. He waved them forward and walked slowly behind them.
“There is the phone,” he said. “Make your call and get out.”
“That’s a really harsh way to treat strangers,” Caspar commented with a grin. “Yes, well, you are strangers,” the old man replied.
“Strangers who know you.” Caspar’s beaming smile and his cheerful nature vanished quickly. He stepped forward, his golden eyes cold. “Marid.”
The old man’s mouth dropped opened with disbelief. “Who are you people?” “Make yourself visible, Balthazar.”
Balthazar appeared. The old man moved back as he ogled the gargoyle suspended in the air. He was awed by what he saw. “You are...um...You are a gargoyle!”
“Don’t try to act foolish, old man. We know you are the djinn,” Caspar said gruffly.
“All right, all right!” the old man replied. “I am...I am the last of the Marid’s.” His black eyes slowly dissolved. White pupils shone brightly. “You guys...You are a
Unlocked Page 6