by Shad N Freud
Marcel laughed heartily. “Not hardly. Spy? Sure. Saboteur? Definitely. But a traitor to my faith? Never. I will say this, though…the look on your stupid face is worth what’s going to happen next. You see this thing in my hand? It’s a remote detonator from the future, for the explosives I’ve planted throughout this ship.”
Clink’s pistol flashed and Marcel felt the wind get knocked out of him. He fell to the deck and stared at the hole in his chest. “Good…shot, Herr Clink,” Marcel laughed as he depressed the button. “But…you should have aimed…a bit higher. I wouldn’t…do that, you stupid Kraut.” He laughed shakily at the affronted look on Clink’s face as he aimed at Marcel’s head. “This detonator…is a…dead man’s…switch.” Marcel snickered, taking a deep drag of the licorice flavored clove. “When…my heart stops…we all die. So, would…one of you Nazi pricks bring…me some vinegar? I want to give you…cabbage fuckers a taste of home…when you…suck on MY BALLS!” Marcel laughed, flicking the spent butt at Clink’s unmonocled eye. The ship’s captain flinched and shot Marcel again, this time in the forehead. Marcel jerked and let go of the detonator.
∞∞∞
Hundreds of fathoms underwater, a series of explosions ripped a suddenly visible submarine in half amidships, scuttling the golden submarine and killing the remaining crew on board.
That crew found then themselves in a nearly endless serpentine line to a set of blackened, wrought iron gates. Flames of almost every color burned within the gates, thousands of devils within drilling, training, and performing maintenance on the massive canons pointed towards the fertile side of the velvet ropes separating Heaven from Hell. Some of the lazier devils leered at the souls waiting in line for the varied torments of Hell, some catcalling the damned and eternally damned alike.
Marcel stood in the middle of the newest group to find themselves dead, grinning like a loon. “Welcome to Hell, lads! Unlike most of you cabbage fuckers, I’ll be here for the next stage of my life. You, on the other hand, will be getting the full package. Enjoy eternity, you dumb fuckers.”
As if summoned, a minor imp came flying full speed for the former Inquisitor of Pride. “In…Inquisitor Beaumont!” The Imp bent at the waist, his pudgy face red with exertion. His leathery bat wings began beating again and the little guy floated back up to Marcel’s eye level, holding out a black vellum note from Lucifer.
He popped it open and began to read. “Let’s see…service to the Church…special dispensation? Oh, this is just too rich. I only have to burn for fifty years?” Marcel began laughing, waving the paper in Clink’s face. “Screw you guys! I get to hop to the front of the line. Enjoy the next nine months, Kraut.”
Marcel skipped happily to the front of the line, showed the note, and dove head-first down the slide, screaming in masochistic glee all the way down to Pandemonia to go give a status report to Lucifer before going into the “Oven.”
∞∞∞
-Fifty years later-
“Let all presssent be aware of the appointment of one Inquisssitor Marcccel Carlosss Beaumont, Sr., to the posssition of Legion Commander of the Ssseventh Purgatory Legion. Hisss devotion to the Sssatanic Caussse was pivotal in the Sssecond World War, allowing the allied forcesss the lassst pusssh they needed to win the war without resssorting to further nuclear weaponsss ussse. For hisss unyielding loyalty, he isss to be granted the title of Duke, asss well asss a thousssand acresss of land in Malbolge, a penthoussse sssuite in the cccity of Disss, and isss to be awarded the Iron Ssstar, the highessst honor ssshort of being named an Archduke of one of the Nine. To presssent this award, Purgatory Legion Commander Molly Beaumont, Duchesssss of Malbolge.” Baal, the Archduke of Purgatory said as he read off the commendation, gesturing for the presenter of the award to step forward.
Marcel paused, glancing in the direction of a rather Amazonian pitlord bearing a relatively small box with a solid version of the Inquisitorial Brand at the end of a black and red ribbon. He lost his composure at that point, bolting for the taller woman and wrapping his arms around the giantess as tears slid down his face. “M-molly!”
Molly Beaumont wrapped her arms around her husband, kissing him on the top of his bald scaly head. Tears of her own slid down her face as she gave her man a bone crushing hug. “Bloody well took you long enough, yeh little swot.”
If anyone took offense to the lack of decorum, none were willing to say a word. While some of the devils present would certainly laugh about the pairs behavior amongst their fellows while cleaning their guns, or doing their best to shirk their duties (like any good enlisted man would), none would begrudge the pair’s happiness, especially with how long they had to wait to see each other again.
Chapter Eighteen
Unlike his father, Carl’s week was largely uneventful. After being held up at the shore, the group spent a week enjoying the hospitality of the local lord before being pointed in the right direction and sent on their way. By the eighth day in Japan, Jin had actually grown tired of the near constant kow-towing by the local lords and decided to take to the air after having everyone pile into the black mansion. They winged it over to Nagasaki where he found a garden shed to release his passengers. They then made their way to Mt. Inasa.
Mt. Inasa, the peak of which was over a thousand feet above sea level, was truly more of a hill than a mountain. That said, it did house the temple that the God of Dragons, also known as the Allfather and the Platium Scale, Bahamut, called home. Jin walked in his gnomish form towards the mountain and saw the torii that lead to the two-thousand step climb. He kneeled reverently before the steps, deciding to climb in his non-draconic form. He turned to thank his friends for joining him in the climb only to see them in line for the bus to the top. “Hey! This is a sacred duty, to climb the two thousand steps!”
“Yup,” Cenere nodded as he pulled money out of his belt pouch, counting out the yen bills to pay for the ride up the mountain. “But we’re not Witnesses, so…see you at the top!”
The others nodded, waving at Jin as they boarded, only Zeke having the common decency to smile sheepishly before hopping on the bus. Jin growled loudly as he watched the bus begin the climb up the mountain, then sighed as he looked up the steps. Sure, he could just be a lazy schmuck like his ingrate friends riding their way up the mountain…but he was a Witness! And a dragon at that!
He nodded, firm in his resolve, and began the climb. As soon as his foot pressed down on the first step, he felt a small weight on his shoulder. A single translucent grain of rice, clearly not real…but the weight was there none the less. He shrugged and took the next step. No new weight. He smirked and continued his climb.
He noticed the weight seemed to increase every step and he was forced to pause after a while, to ponder the meaning of it all. How he’d gotten to this point. He remembered how he’d felt the day Carl and Fancy came into his life. A day that brought his life true meaning and freed him from his cell.
He shook his head and continued up the steps. He did some quick calculations, and realized that the weight was growing exponentially, as the weight effectively doubled every eighty steps. He cringed as he realized how heavy the rice on his shoulders would be by the time he reached the temple. He drew his staff and used it to help him remain standing as he continued climbing.
He had to stop and recalled the moment he met the gorgeous dragon that had ensnared his heart, Frost. He longed to see her again, to get to know her better, and possibly broach the subject of starting a communal hoard. Possibly even creating their own aerie, to raise a clutch of hatchlings together…he shook his head. There would be time for such things after his mission had been completed, and the world saved.
He paused, bent over double, leaning heavily on his staff, and breathing hard as he fought to catch his breath. The rice on his shoulders was so heavy it was a struggle to take a single step.
The memory of his best friend’s death sprang unbidden to his mind, the worst moment of his life. He’d seen how horrific the damage was and felt
betrayed by the very magics he took for granted when the Lazerus compound he’d stabbed into Zeke’s chest refused to save the lizard man, as one of the few things it wouldn’t fix was extreme radiation burns. And, considering the smell of burnt hair and overcooked chicken that had filled the air, it was a sure bet that Zeke’s injuries were of an irradiating nature. Nothing he could do would save the one person in the whole world that he enjoyed the extended company of. Granted, he’d come to enjoy the camaraderie of the group, even to the point of wanting to hang out with Cenere…but that moment was permanently etched into his brain.
Jin fought the urge to cry and failed horribly as he forced himself back to his feet and took another step.
Two hundred and forty steps from the top, Jin was forced to crawl on his hands and knees, the weight on his shoulders too great to remain standing. Another memory, one of the true horrors of the world, was the video they’d seen that had been only a fraction of the torture visited upon Carl’s family. For Jin, however, that video forced a vision into his mind over the course of three hours, forcing him to see everything that had occurred to the girl and her mother at Ink’s hands. The memory made Jin scream in furious anguish and he shakily climbed another step on all fours, the weight almost completely unbearable.
Eighty steps from the top, Jin lay on his face, staring up the steps, and feeling like another step would kill him. The sun had long since set, Jin laying on the steps as he glared upward. He gasped like a fish out of water, feeling almost five thousand kilograms crushing him into the granite steps. Where the steps before this point had been what had brought him to this point, the steps in front of him were nearly impossible. They were what stood between him and the end of his climb, and he just couldn’t make it another step, not without help.
He fell asleep and awoke the next morning staring at a pair of heavily worn leather boots. He looked up the legs that belonged to the boots and saw a scruffy looking old Japanese man with what could only be referred to as a push-broom mustache reminiscent of Sam Elliot, the bushy thing white as snow. The man’s eyebrows were likewise bushy, and just as pale. His face was deeply lined, weather stained, and tanned like the leather on a catcher’s mitt.
“Youngin’, you alright? You seem a might bit tuckered out.” The old man’s deep Kansai accent made him sound a bit unsophisticated, like a Japanese redneck. Jin stared up at him and groaned as he tried to articulate just how crushed he felt by the weight of the world on his shoulders. Somehow the old man understood, nodded, and sat down next to the beleaguered gnome as he pulled out a rather battered pair of tin cups, and filled them with crystal clear water from an equally battered canteen that looked like it had graced the hip of a service man during the last crusade.
He handed the gnome the cup and Jin noted it was cold as ice, the water inside equally cold. One sip and he was able to sit up next to the old man.
“There yeh are. See, look down those steps. I climb ‘em every day, pondering the truths about life.” The old man drained his cup, then filled it again, topping off Jin’s. “Wouldja look at that view! From here, you can see the beauty of Nagasaki’s valley, the fields, the way the sun sparkles on the bay. But at night, though…the view from the temple is just plain breath takin’.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a faded red bandana, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Gosh, it’s hot out! Walking down these steps sure is a lot easier than climbing back up. Makes you have to take stock of yer life and decide if the climb is really worth it.”
Jin stared at the man as he spoke and felt a bit of the weight on his shoulders decrease with every word. “You wouldn’t happen to be that Jin feller I heard a group of tourists talkin’ about, would ya?” Jin nodded. “I mean, they sure did have a good laugh about ya decidin’ to climb these steps. Not many do these days, decidin’ to take the easy way up. Heck, most o’ the dragons that come to visit just fly to the top. Course, there’s nothin’ wrong with how ya get up to the top, so long as you get there.”
The old man finished his water, then looked down at the gnome. “Course, they take the easy way, like the tourists. Doesn’t make them better’n you, though. They chose to do things the easy way, not the right way. Don’t be afraid to accept help though, youngin’. Sometimes the only way to finish a journey of two thousand steps is to let an old man give you a cup of water. Well, I better get back to the temple. It won’t clean itself.”
The old man chuckled as he slung his broom over his shoulder and climbed the remaining steps to the top. Jin watched him go and got to his feet. All of a sudden, those last eighty steps didn’t seem quite so insurmountable and the weight even shrank as he climbed, fading completely by the last step. He saw the old man pushing a broom and whistling cheerfully as he made his way to the large dais in the center, where he found Cenere and Camilla laying in the grass of an ornamental lawn, staring at the clouds.
Jin growled as he stormed over to Cenere and glowered down at him. “Fancy! Have you no respect? This is a temple!”
Cenere looked up into Jin’s eyes and laughed. “First off, I’m not a Witness. Second, the overgrown lizard this temple is dedicated to said it was okay.”
“Overgrown lizard!” Jin snarled as he stomped his foot next to Cenere’s head, leaving a deep imprint in the grass.
“Yes, Shrimp, an overgrown lizard who sounds like a fortune cookie whenever he isn’t pushing a broom and talking like a bumkin. And who, I might add, will not be pleased that you broke his temple.”
Jin paused, staring at the spot he’d turned into a teeny tiny pit. He pulled on his hair as he stared at the damage he’d caused to the holiest place in his religion. Camilla elbowed Cenere in the ribs as he fought the urge to laugh, finally setting him off and causing the Inquisitor to roll on the grass, laughing until tears ran down his face. “Th-the look on your face!”
The janitor stepped up behind Jin, glowering down at him. “You. Broke. My. Temple!” The old man’s face became more reptilian as he glared at the little guy, slowly growing larger and whiter until he towered over the tiny man, becoming a dragon the same shade of metal as platinum. “YOU DARE DEFILE MY TEMPLE!”
Jin’s eyes welled up with tears and he fell to his hands and knees. His God had been the one to help him finish his climb, going so far as to sit on the steps with him and share a cup of water, imparting important life advice. And the first thing he did was break Bahamut’s temple!
He scrunched his eyes shut as he felt hot, fat tears of shame roll down his face. “I am so sorry! Please forgive me!”
The glowering dragon’s face twisted as he fought the urge to laugh, shifting back down to his human form, and covering his mouth with both hands, his eyes bugging out of his head before the scruffy old janitor began laughing uproariously, joined by Camilla and Cenere. Jin looked up in utter confusion and saw the mirth dancing in the janitor’s eyes. “By the way, youngin’, the name’s Bahamut. Course, my friends call me Bucky. You, though, can call me whatever ya like…just not late for dinner!”
Carl walked out from where he’d been hiding behind a tree, chuckling as he held up his phone. “Got the picture of your face! It was priceless!”
Jin jumped to his feet, enraged at his friends. Bucky waved his hands to get Jin’s attention. “Whoa there, youngin’! It was just a joke and it was my idea. ‘Sides, the look on your face was priceless.”
The scruffy old man smiled, his brown eyes dancing in mirth. He turned and walked to the large dais, a circular stone made of silvery marble, the image of an eye engraved in the immense stone circle. He changed his form back into his draconic self, becoming a gargantuan dragon at least twice as long as any other they’d ever seen, his monolithic head resting on gigantic paws, his nostrils large enough for Zeke to walk through without ducking first. Bahamut’s massive scales glinted in the sun’s early light, a polished metallic sheen almost blinding those present as he stared at them with immense sapphire eyes, each the size of a double decker bus.
His voice came out in
a gentle whisper, for a deity anyways, the gust of breath enough to almost knock everyone off their feet. “Now that we’re all assembled, would you mind telling me why you’re here? Don’t get me wrong, I always enjoy visitors, but I rarely get such…distinguished guests as yourselves.”
“Well, your Scaliness,” Cenere drawled as Carl presented a black missive to Bahamut, who transformed back into his Bucky aspect in a flash of light. “There’s this whole Prophecy thing and we’re supposed to prevent the end of days.” Jin glared at the handsome tiefling as he continued, “And because you’re dead in the future, your shininess, we needed to violate the oaths we swore to uphold to come back here and get you to bleed on somebody and give them your blessing. We figured it would be whoever hatched out of this egg that an old dragon protected with his life, but the damn thing won’t hatch and isn’t registering as alive despite being warm to the touch.”
Bucky looked up over his missive from Lucifer, staring right into Cenere’s soul. “Mind if I see that egg?”
Cenere looked over at Jin who snarled at Cenere before withdrawing the golden egg. Bucky looked at it for a moment, laughed, and cracked it open, revealing a glowing gemstone wrapped in traceries of mithril. He knicked his finger in the process, winked at Cenere, then threw the stone at Jin with enough force to knock the small gnome ass over teakettle. The gem turned red briefly before disintegrating, the powdered jewel swirling around Jin before going in his mouth and up his nose, causing him to fall to the ground and writhe in agony.
Cenere buried a knife in the ground at Bucky’s feet, a furious expression on his face. “Nobody hurts the Shrimp, not even you, you overgrown horny toad! I don’t care if you’re a god, he’s one of us!”
Zeke peered at the gnome and watched as his skin took on a slightly grayer hue, his eyes glowing brightly. “Um, guys?”