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“Hello, my friends. I am Longhorn Darcy and I am the new Chairman of Matrix Corporation,” the man in the black suit said.
He wore a long pin-striped suit with white shirt covered with small colored dots on it and a velvety tie wrapped around his neck. His boots shone in the green light.
“I bought this Corporation from its previous owner, Mr. Mann. Nice fellow. Mr. Mann was old and didn’t want his company to be run by his incompetent heirs, so he sold it to me.” He smiled. It was bright and clear. A sheer sense of delight coursed through his every word as he replied, “I know you will be uncomfortable working for me. You have been accustomed to Mr. Mann’s mannerisms. I understand that. But don’t worry. I want you to know that I am an understanding boss.”
He laughed. Hundreds of eyes were centered on him. “I am not your boss. Please, when you meet me, call me Longhorn. I don’t want any formality.” He walked to the left of the stage. “What I do want is success.”
He upheld his fist. “Success is something you don’t get. It isn’t a gift wrapped in paper. Success is what you achieve with passion and hard work. I want that. If you give me that, you will be a Matrix employee, but if you won’t...Please, listen to me. If you won’t...” He pointed a finger at his employees who watched him with shock and amusement. “You will be forgotten. I mean it!” he proclaimed. “I want success, now. Starting from today. If there any queries, please meet me in my office.” He paused and slid his hand into his pant pocket. “Questions?”
No one said a word. Silence reigned within the room. Many raised their brows and pursed their lips as they tried to find questions suitable for the current situation.
Yet they found none. Instead, they shook off their insecurities and let them go. Until someone within the crowd shouted for attention in the most inappropriate way possible.
“Yeah, I got one,” the man said. “Are you even qualified to be the chairman?” Head swiveled around to face a fat man with a coffee mug within his hand. He
was smiling for no reason whatsoever. He had a blunt attitude and a twitchy eye. “I would answer that question in my office, Mr.?”
“Hopkins. Jack Hopkins.”
“Mr. Hopkins, please meet me in five minutes. Any other questions? If there are any, I’ll gladly answer.”
When none came, he disappeared off of the stage.
***
Longhorn opened the door of his office to find another man inside. He was immaculately dressed with a crisp jet black haircut that was slanted at the back. His face was angular and straight and his brown eyes were curious. He smiled at him as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
“I am happy to see you.”
“You too, brother,” Longhorn shook his hand. “I feel so refreshed.” He stared at his hands as if it were the first time he’d felt them. “These pathetic parasites are so different than what I expected.” He touched his smooth skin. “Look at this. It’s so soft, like paper or grass. I don’t know how to express my emotions in this.” He laughed. He went made his way to his chair and made himself comfortable. “Where is Mammon?”
“He’s out, as usual, trying to find women.”
“Mortal woman...I wonder what they’re like,” Longhorn laughed cheerfully. “Leviathan, why don’t I feel the kind of power I should have had? I am Lucifer Morningstar, the Creator. Yet I don’t feel as if I am.”
Leviathan sat opposite him and crossed one leg upon another. His smile was unforgettable and simple. “You are in human form, an appearance which limits the powers demons and angels possess. Humans tend to have that kind of effect on us.”
“That is why I hate them, brother.” Lucifer smiled. “I heard that a trickster, or some powerful being, broke me out of Purgatory.”
“Oh, yes, Manfred Croft.”
“I should have given him gifts for such an honorable duty.” Lucifer lowered his head and picked up a folder. “Poor thing died. But then I rose. Every fall has a rise,” Lucifer quipped.
Leviathan smiled. He looked around. The photographs were hanging on the walls. Beautiful lavish marbles sat on the ground. Articles from Post and Daily papers were scattered across the table depicting the following headline, ‘Longhorn Darcy is the new champ of the Matrix Corporation.’ Another read, ‘Longhorn Darcy, one of the ten most influential people in the world.’
“Why Longhorn Darcy?” Leviathan prodded.
“What do you mean?” Lucifer tapped a finger across his lip in thought.
“You could have taken someone else’s appearance, someone else’s form. Yet you took Longhorn Darcy’s, the youngest billionaire remaining in the spotlight wherever he goes.”
Lucifer smiled warmly. He pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the mini bar to pour a bit of wine in his glass. He took a sip. “Earth is going to face
doomsday in few days. Until that time arrives, I thought of living lavishly, like a king. It’d be fun. After all, I had such a long and boring time in that accursed place.”
“That makes some sense,” Leviathan replied. “But wouldn’t it distract you from your main goal? The Armageddon?”
“You don’t have to worry about that, brother. What did you think I was doing for so long in Purgatory aside from sleeping around? Hah. I know what we have to do. There is this…” he closed his eyes and took another sip of his drink, “thing you have to do. Call Mammon or Abaddon and try to find the Prophet. He knows things. More so, than we do. We should harness that information. I have something I must ask him. It is important. Bring him to me, no matter what.”
Leviathan stood. “All right.” “You heard my speech, brother?” “Of course.”
“Then you know how much I care for success.” He stepped closer to the other Prince of Hell, growling beneath his breath. “I don’t want you to come here to my office and tell me, ‘Sorry, I wasn’t able to do what you asked because the plan was disturbed by a third party.’ No, no, no, no!” He clenched his teeth together with all his might.
“If I hear this, Leviathan, if I hear this . . .” he repeated and grabbed Leviathan’s face to force his head against his shoulder. “You don’t know how sad or how bad I’ll feel if things don’t happen as planned. How much disappointed I will be.” He was almost whispering in Leviathan’s ear. “I’ll forget that you were once my brother. Is that understood?”
“Y – Yes,” Leviathan stammered.
A beaming smile crossed Lucifer’s face as he let go of his brother. “Sorry for that. I scare people. I know.” He embraced Leviathan tightly who was still rooted in place. “Come on.” He patted his step-brother’s arm. “Be a dog and go fetch the Prophet for me.”
Leviathan bowed down in respect. “Hail, Morningstar!” he proclaimed. With that, he departed.
Lucifer narrowed his eyes and took a sip from his glass. He leaned upon the table and looked around. A swift knock upon the door drew his attention. “Come in,” he said authoritatively.
Jack Hopkins strode into his office. A coffee stain marred his loosely buttoned shirt that hung open over his pants. “Yo, man.”
“Yo? Is that a new way to say, hello?” Lucifer chuckled. “Come in and sit down.” Though his voice wasn’t cold or harsh, it was commanding in tone.
Jack sat down. He wasn’t scared at all. “So...What’s the answer?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you are young and you don’t look like you are going to stand here as a chairman. Mr. Mann was a big man and old with wisdom in every word he spoke. You...well, you look like crap.”
Lucifer didn’t say anything. He stared at the man with amusement.
“See, no offense, you can fire me. My wife has left me and my son abandoned me. My parents are dead and my apartment is going to break down. My life is full of shit. I don’t care if you fire me. After all of this, I just wanted some honesty.”
Lucifer smiled broadly, his small teeth visible in the gloomy light. “That’s nice to hear.
Nothing to lose.” He moved over the bar and filled his glass with more wine. “I wonder,” he mused.
His back was facing Jack. He turned about and handed him a glass. Jack gripped the glass and gulped it down completely. “I do wonder one thing. What is the point of living if there’s nothing to lose?”
The glass in Jack’s hand fell to the floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces.
***
He ran. He ran until he died.
The thought was pathetic. By running, he would exhaust himself and fill his lungs with screaming pain, but he wouldn’t die. Capernaum touched the ground. It was solid and soft at the same time, as if the mixture had a subtle feeling to it. He wiped the sweat as it dripped down his forehead that creased toward his bony cheeks.
The woods were dark. Peeping owls hooted. Twigs and vines intertwined. Quite a few places had tall pine trees. Thick fog made the place a tad misty. His long coat flapped around him as he landed upon the mud.
Ravens fluttered all around him. Shadows loomed from hidden corners. They made no noise, whatsoever. His ears prickled as he straightened, using the tree behind him for support. His heart beat furiously within his chest as shadows dodged his every movement. He licked his lips and tasted the saline of his sweat. The footsteps now were now clearly audible. A blue sheen drifted through the air and the temperature dropped. His hands were shaking, but it no longer mattered.
A low knife pressed against Capernaum’s ear. Before his assailant could do more, Capernaum grabbed the hand and twisted hard, tearing it apart like a small toy. He turned to look at the other demon. He wore fashionable clothes, lavish cuffs across his coat, a tie, and bright boots on his feet. A name tag was clipped to the front of coat. Cornelius Trumpet, Matrix Corporation.
Matrix Corporation? Why were demons working in a corporation run by a genius named Longhorn Darcy? He had heard about Darcy. The way he talked with an aristocratic manner, the beautiful eyes he fixed on the public as if he were staring at the souls of millions of people, and the puffy suits he wore for each of his interviews.
Other knife was shoved into Capernaum, but he sharply yanked it out. The cut bled and spread across his shirt. It didn’t pain him. Demons were not vulnerable to small cuts or stabs by an ordinary knife. They were if the blade was dipped within an angel’s blood, but that was an entirely different matter.
He threw two punches across the demon’s calf and thigh, his knee going straight for its stomach. The demon groaned. The sound was human. Capernaum tossed him aside and the body smacked into the tree, fainting upon contact. Without another thought, he ran. He didn’t think about the fact that his lungs would fill with burning fire or that his ankle would sprain. He was thirsty, striving for food. Demons do starve and they do drink. They are like humans in almost every way.
If two demons had come to take him out, there would be others. What if there were more hiding behind bushes or the trees, or behind the fog, waiting for some signal to come? He needed a hideout, a haven. He was old. He’d worn an old man’s skin for far too long. When a demon or an angel wears a skin, they remain in it
forever. He’d worn the one he was in when it was young and filled with enormous power and energy rivaling a world class athlete. Now, it was old and vulnerable.
A large house loomed in the distance, broken and tattered. It hadn’t been used for quite some time. Windows were wide open, some damaged and dangling, allowing fallen leaves inside. The wooden structure struggled to keep up with the heavy gust of the winds. For the time being, he could use the place as a haven.
Grrrrrr!
A sound echoed from behind him. He turned, his coat floating in thin air. His surroundings were bright, though darkness penetrated in several places. Smoky blotches dotted the sky. A creature came out of the fog. It wasn’t a demon. At least, none Capernaum could identify. It was a monster from the worst pits of Hell. Standing in front of him was a werewolf.
With thick black fur and silvery eyes, the werewolf stood his two feet. Fangs extended from its salivating mouth, growling at Capernaum. The fur had grown over the remnants of its scorched pants and shirt. The soles of its shoes had torn apart at the back. Its ears twitched. Furry hands with conical and bloodied nails remained still. It was bulky, broad, and strong. It waited for Capernaum to react.
RRRRRRRRR!
He growled ferociously, his rancid breath permeating its surroundings. Capernaum had sensed the existence of werewolves in the woods. Many bodies, dead as well as alive, had gone missing. Newspapers had said it was an animal, but they would never have imagined it was the amalgam of a man and a wolf.
Werewolves aren’t friendly. They never are. Perhaps it’s because of their tormented past, or because of the heaps of pressure and frustration on their nerves. Whatever the reason, werewolves are tough creatures to fight. They main source of
sustenance were demons. The bitter sweetness of demon flesh rejuvenates the wolves and incites their hunger. Werewolves had alliance with vampires, unlike folklores who gave different information altogether. Werewolves and vampires are on the same side, because they both suffer the same ends. They morph, they transform into something they don’t want to, and they thrive for flesh and blood. They were reduced in numbers during 70’s, but gradually started to increase during the wars. Most werewolves remain in woods, in hopes of feeding on deer blood or human blood.
This werewolf was lucky. He would feed on a demon’s blood for today’s snack. Capernaum, on the other hand, knew the werewolf wasn’t lucky at all.
Capernaum’s skin rippled in the cold. “You don’t scare me.”
“I am not here to scare you.” English! This werewolf was familiar with the language.
“It always seems strange to see a werewolf talking,”
“We aren’t beasts, demon. We are humans. We possess the DNA of wolves within us, is all.” The werewolf walked carefully to the big warehouse, which resembled more of a post apocalyptic cabin the closer one got to it.
“Ah, I think you are a scientist.” “Geneticist, actually,”
“What made you like this?” “Experimentation,”
“Not bitten?”
“No,” the creature replied, his voice full of disappointment. “I conducted a dangerous experiment on myself because the government was ready for the future.”
Capernaum raised his brows. “Your future was pretty doggy, I assume?” “Don’t provoke me, parasite.”
Capernaum laughed. “We aren’t here to discuss this. Why don’t you tell me why you are here?”
“I heard about the Rise.” It paused. “My pack is not interested in such welfares, but then, I am not really into the pack thing. I also heard you were the only demon fighting on the side of the angels. Perhaps you are seeking redemption in the midst of chaos,”
“You can say so,”
“I don’t like this. I don’t like the Rise. Lucifer is the devil. I was raised a Catholic, so learning about the devil from the moment of my birth is a pretty bad-ass thing. I don’t want such chaos on this planet. That’s the reason I want to say, I am with you.”
“And you thought I would trust you?”
“Do you have a choice? Look around. You are in the middle of nowhere. I found you. You didn’t find me. Two demons attacked you. Yes. I know about that little encounter of yours.” The voice was strong and persuasive. “You are on a very big hit list.”
Capernaum was surprised. What hit list? He didn’t know anything about it. After the battle in the Land of Souls, he had escaped to Earth to find his way to his home, only to be driven into the woods by the demons following him.
“What are you talking about?”
“It is said that Lucifer prefers loyalty over betrayal. Who doesn’t? He, for my own knowledge, learnt about your fight with the demons and put a MOST WANTED tag on your name. You have a bounty on your head. Every demon, in support of Lucifer’s reign or not, will try to get you. In return, they would be gifted a grand position under Lucifer’s helm.
Every demon’s wants you and Lucifer wants you dead,
no matter what. No one likes a cat among the dogs. Every demon is getting ready or is already hunting you.”
“That’s stupidity. How should I trust that this information is correct?” “I am a werewolf. We have good ears.”
Capernaum looked up, feeling depressed. He was trapped. The demons were after him. Lucifer is angry with him. He touched the ground and knelt down. The moisture seeped into his skin. A warm breeze came and the slowly dipping sun could be seen above, its bloody orange color spreading far and wide.
“Fine,” Capernaum surrendered. “We are allies now.”
The werewolf came forward and extended his hand. “Let’s shake hands and make our arrangement official.”
In the warm morning light, his skin seemed to stretch across his jaw and skull. He resembled a skeleton. His black hair was plastered against the back of his head, its tips touching his long, thin neck. He brought his hands forward, though he didn’t shake hands. He looked at the werewolf instead.
The silver eyes seemed honest enough for him to believe. Then again, he had no way to openly judge someone’s facial expression or what they told you. It was simple. It was all right. Perhaps that’s how life as. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of trust and faith without thinking twice or thrice or as many times as possible because the answer would be the same. It is said that when you are in trouble or in misery, even the ants look like angels to you.
He grabbed the furry hand. The paw was soft and gentle, like a toy a girl would want to sleep with her arms wrapped around it. The pads across its palms were rough and bloody, depicting the rugged adventure the werewolf would have faced.
“I am Capernaum.”
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