by Amy Cross
“And what is that?”
“Put the world back to how it was!”
“I already did.”
“But people aren't dying!”
“So?”
“So you have to let them die!”
“Well,” he purrs, still watching the dagger, “you are a bloodthirsty little thing, Ms. Marker, aren't you?”
“They need to be able to die,” she tells him. “You're not giving them eternal life, you're just trapping them in eternal pain!”
“I thought you'd be pleased.” He chuckles for a moment. “I disrupted the lines that run between this world and the others. Nobody dies here anymore, Ms. Marker, and nobody goes either to Heaven or to Hell. I would have thought that you'd be happy with the arrangement, but you seem to be a rather glass-half-empty kind of person.”
“You're going to put everything right!”
“And if I don't?”
She raises the dagger a little higher, and for the first time she notices a crackle of energy running along the blade's edge. It's almost as if the dagger is starting to pick up some form of power, something that might be used against Abberoth. For the first time, she begins to think that maybe her plan will work. She holds the dagger even higher, and sure enough the crackle of energy becomes a series of strong, growing sparks.
“Humans have this pathetic need to believe in prophecies, do they not?” Abberoth continues. “Do you really think you can zap me with a magic wand, and then everything I have achieved will be undone?”
“The prophecy states that this dagger can be used to save the world!” Sam shouts, trying to be heard above the sound of thick cracks starting to break through the ground all around her.
“Another prophecy states that you're a stinky idiot who's about to die,” he snarls. “There. See? Anyone can play such a pathetic game.”
“I believe,” Sam whispers, trying to keep her confidence up. “I have to believe.”
“And I believe,” Abberoth replies, “that this prophecy also states that the dagger can be used to destroy the world. Or is it reality itself that the dagger can destroy if it's plunged into the soil?”
“Put things back!” Sam sneers, keeping her eyes fixed on him. “Everything. Let people die again.”
“I don't want Hell being flooded with new, bad humans,” he explains. “I have other plans. Hell is no longer going to be a place for punishment. The Devil wasted his dominion, he allowed it to fester for millions of years, but now I intend to unlock its fullest potential. Hell is no longer going to be a dumping ground for the worst that humanity has to offer. A new Hell is going to rise, one that is proud of its achievements. One that isn't left to rot in the depths of existence. My new version of Hell will be a magnificent testament to the glory of those who were discarded by the righteous.”
He leans forward.
“You're wasting my time. The Devil is coming with me. I want him to see everything that I am going to achieve.”
“You can do what you want with Hell,” Sam replies, “but you're going to leave this world alone.”
At this, Abberoth begins to laugh.
“You might not have faith in these prophecies,” Sam says, forcing herself to step toward him, still holding the dagger up high, “but I think some of them are there for a reason. And I just so happen to think that this particular prophecy has some weight behind it.”
“Sam, please,” the Devil groans, struggling once again under the weight of his shackles, “you don't have to do any of this...”
“Last chance,” she tells Abberoth. “Are you going to back off?”
“What do you think?” he sneers.
“I think you're about to get a lesson in prophecies,” she continues, before raising the dagger as high as she can.
Almost immediately, strands of energy start crackling all around the blade, hissing and spitting in the cold evening air. Feeling prickles of pain on her hands, Sam almost lets go, but she forces herself to keep hold of the dagger as a beam of light begins to materialize above her, connecting the tip of the blade to the sun itself.
“Still confident?” Sam asks, keeping her eyes fixed on Abberoth and seeing the growing unease in his expression. “Still think you've got this covered?”
“Wait a moment,” he says, leaning even further forward on his throne. “Ms. Marker, I don't know what kind of stunt you're pulling, but your little firework display is hardly going to succeed. There is no prophecy -”
Before he can finish, a blast of energy explodes on one side of the dagger, almost knocking Sam off her feet. She winces and squeeze tight on the handle, somehow managing to stay standing despite the intense heat that's starting to singe the edges of her hands.
“Go, Sam!” Anna yells. “Sock it to him!”
“I'm willing to negotiate,” Abberoth says cautiously, holding up a hand to shield his eyes as the blinding light gets stronger and stronger. “Perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement after all.”
“Actually,” Sam says firmly, through gritted teeth, “I think it's a little late for that. Enjoy the prophecy, asshole.”
With that, the energy blasts away from the dagger and slams straight into Abberoth, causing an immediate explosion that almost drowns out his agonized scream. While light fills the air, and the ground shakes beneath Sam's feet, but she knows she has to stand strong and keep the beam focused on the spot where – just a moment ago – Abberoth sat on his throne. For a few seconds, she thinks she hears his scream continuing, but soon the incredible ball of white energy grows even stronger, as if it's obliterating everything it touches.
“Sam!” Anna screams somewhere in the distance. “What -”
“Show mercy,” Abberoth's voice sneers suddenly, from somewhere in the vast haze. “Let us work together.”
“No chance!” Sam replies, barely managing to hold the dagger's hilt. “I tried playing nice. This is just how it has to be. Now go back to Hell and stay there!”
As soon as those words have left her lips, the ball of energy explodes. Blown clean off her feet, Sam's sent flying through the air until she slams back down in the ruins of the cottage. Rolling onto her side, she covers her face with her arms as the ground shudders beneath her, and for a moment there's a flash of heat before finally the air begins to cool again. Her ears are ringing, and Sam waits a few seconds before finally daring to open her eyes.
All around her, silence has fallen.
She sits up and looks back toward the spot where Abberoth had appeared, but all she sees is flames engulfing what remains of his throne. And then, as if to mark the end, one side of the throne crumbles to the ground amid a growing, billowing wall of thick smoke.
Silence falls again.
“Is it over?” Anna asks, and Sam turns to see her hiding behind what's left of the cottage's front wall. “Is he... I mean, is he actually gone this time?”
Sam hesitates, before getting to her feet and taking a couple of steps toward the smoldering throne. Thick smoke still hangs in the air, and after a moment she feels her nostrils stinging slightly as she smells a foul, acrid stench that reminds her of her journey down to Hell. After a moment, however, just enough of the smoke clears for her to again see the ruined throne, and she feels a glimmer of hope in her chest as she sees the extent of its destruction.
“Did the prophecy work?” Anna calls after her. “Sam? Did the prophecy actually stop him?”
“Maybe,” Sam whispers.
“Did it really, truly work?”
“Maybe.”
“It worked!” Anna continues, following just a few paces behind as Sam gets closer to the throne. “The prophecy came through!”
Sam stops and stares at the throne for a moment, before turning back to Anna. And as she does so, she realizes that maybe for once her natural pessimism is no longer warranted. Slowly, she feels a great burden starting to lift from her shoulders.
“Yeah, we won,” she says, trying to make herself believe those words. Her right hand rela
xes, and the dagger drops to the ground. “I think so, anyway. We did it. We stopped him.”
“The prophecy was right!” Anna yells, rushing at her and enveloping her in a huge hug. “Well, not the ones that said he'd succeed, but the ones that said he'd fail were right on the money! We saved the world, Sam! Like, I know we've stopped people before, like that Raven guy, but this time we actually saved the whole friggin' world! Doesn't that make us, like, the coolest people ever?”
“We won,” Sam whispers, still trying to come to terms with the idea. “We actually -”
Suddenly she freezes as she spots the area where, just a moment ago, the Devil had been kneeling in his chains. In that moment, she can't help feeling a twinge of sadness as she realizes that Abberoth isn't the only one who was banished.
For a moment, she thinks of her last sight of the Devil. He was on his knees, wrapped in chains. Wherever Abberoth has ended up, the Devil has clearly gone to the same place.
“Goodbye,” she mouths silently. “Wherever you are.”
She closes her eyes, as Anna's hug gets even tighter.
And then, slowly, she begins to realize that she can hear somebody laughing over her shoulder. She freezes, not wanting to believe that the sound is real, but then she feels Anna's hug fall limp. Stepping back, Sam turns and looks once more toward the throne, and this time she sees the faint outline of a figure standing in the smoke. A moment later, the figure steps forward and continues laughing, and Sam feels her heart sink.
“That can't be him,” Sam whispers, her voice filled with shock. “Sam, we just beat him! We won!”
“You're hilarious!” Abberoth chuckles, waving away the last of the smoke. “I have to admit, Ms. Marker, you sold the whole thing very well. You looked like you actually believed in all that nonsense about a magic sword. It was like something out of a film. A film for weak-minded children.”
Sam stares at him for a moment, before turns and racing back to the dagger. Grabbing the handle, she almost slips in the mud as she turns and raises the blade up high again.
“Oh, please do,” Abberoth says, tapping at his own chest. “I could use another laugh before I go back to what I was doing before I was so rudely interrupted. In fact, that beam of energy actually tickled slightly.”
Sam adjusts her grip on the dagger, and already she can feel ripples of energy crackling against her fingers.
“This is going to be such fun,” Abberoth continues. “The look on your face is absolutely classic. I'll be thinking of this for a long time, when I'm busy down in Hell. Of course, by then you'll be scrabbling about up here on what's left of your mortal world, trying to ignore the screams of the deathless. And eventually, you'll become one of them yourself. A whole world will be writhing in agony, begging for an end that can never come.”
“Do it, Sam!” Anna yells. “Zap him again! Second time's the charm!”
Sam feels the energy building and building in the dagger, but after a moment she lowers her hands as she realizes that there's no point.
“Do it!” Anna screams.
“Yes, do it!” Abberoth says, tapping once again at his own chest. “Maybe aim right here this time. You never know, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe that bullshit prophecy will come true and I'll be blown to smithereens. And even if I'm not, at least you'll get to lie to yourself and pretend that you gave it your all.”
Gritting her teeth, Sam tries to think of something else – anything else – she can try.
“Oh, that's a shame,” Abberoth says, starting to turn away before hesitating for a moment. “Ms. Marker, I know you can do better. But perhaps you've simply run out of puff.”
Suddenly a heavy force slams into Sam from behind, knocking her down onto her knees and then shoving her across the ground until she's kneeling before Abberoth. She tries to break free, but the invisible power is somehow holding her in place.
“I'd have killed you by now,” Abberoth sneers, “if you posed any threat to me at all. Instead, I consider you – at best – to be an amusement. Perhaps I shall return from time to time, to witness your slow descent into madness. I'll try to remember, but I can't promise. But if I do come back, I look forward to the day when I see your deathless face filled with the insanity that is born of true pain. And I shall make sure that you conscious mind is never allowed to entirely fade. You will always be aware of your suffering.”
“Laugh it up!” Anna says, clenching her fists as she steps toward him. “This is the part where the bad guy gets cocky, and then he screws up and -”
Before she can finish, the Vassal steps up behind her and grabs her arms, pulling her back.
“Let go of me!” she hisses, struggling to get free as her eyes once again start glowing with a hint of yellow. “This asshole is about to learn his lesson!”
“We lost,” Sam whispers, as she spots the Devil still hunched on the ground in his chains, shivering next to the broken throne. “We tried everything, but we lost.”
The Devil glances at her for a moment, his eyes filled with pain, and then – as if he can no longer stand her gaze – he bows his head.
“No, Ms. Marker,” Abberoth says, as Anna continues to struggle nearby, “don't lose heart. That won't be funny for me. I want to see you try and try and try again, with increasingly outlandish schemes. I know you're so very desperate to save this wretched world. I'm sure there are other nonsense prophecies you can try to follow. You can keep yourself busy for years. And remember... Nobody can die now, not in this world. So really, you have all the time in the world.”
“I was so stupid,” Sam says, looking down at the dagger in her hands. She hesitates for a moment, feeling the anger start to build, and then she tosses the dagger aside. “I can't believe I believed that crap!”
“Go to Hell!” Anna yells suddenly.
“It's over!” Sam says, turning to see that she's still struggling in the Vassal's grip. “Anna, we lost.”
“Never!” Anna hisses, her eyes glowing stronger than ever. “You're Grave Girl, Sam! And I'm... I never got time to think of my superhero name, but I'm gonna help you kick ass!”
“We're not superheroes!” Sam says firmly, as Abberoth continues to laugh.
“We can't give up!” Anna shouts.
Behind her, the Vassal grins as he continues to hold her arms tight.
“We tried everything,” Sam says, shaking her head. “It didn't work.”
“I'm not letting them win!” Anna yells.
“We can't be -”
“I won't let them!” Anna screams, as her eyes start to burn with a fresh intensity. And in that instant, there's a sudden rustling sound over her shoulder and her shirt tears, and then a huge angel wing bursts out from her left shoulder-blade, quickly spreading out to its full three-meter length.
“Anna,” Sam says, staring in shock as the lone wing flaps slightly, “are you okay?”
“This seems new,” the Vassal stammers, still holding Anna from behind. “My Lord, I'm not sure whether -”
Before he can finish, another wing bursts out from Anna's other shoulder-blade. This time, the force is directed straight at the Vassal, and the wing's edge slices straight through his neck.
Stumbling back as Anna's two wings unfurl, the Vassal clutches his throat, but he's too late to save himself. After a moment, his head slides back and falls to the ground, and a few seconds later his body slumps down as well. Blood sprays from the severed stump, soaking into the mud.
“It must be Sparky!” Anna stammers, her voice trembling wildly as she struggles with the extra weight of the wings. She tries to take a step forward, only to wobble and fall to her knees. Immediately, she tries once again to get to her feet. “He did some weird mind-meld thing to me!”
She takes another step forward, but the wings are still too heavy and she quickly tips over. Struggling back up, she winces slightly before turning to Abberoth.
“I kinda wish I'd had more time to practice,” she mutters.
“Anna?” Sam says, starin
g at her with wide-eyed shock. “Why do you suddenly have wings?”
“Bet you weren't expecting this!” she yells triumphantly. “If I were you, I'd be worried about what else might be able to happen to me! 'Cause I know I am!”
“An interesting development,” Abberoth says, tilting his head slightly as he turns and looks at the Vassal's decapitated corpse. “I'd say that I'll miss him, but in truth he was never very effective. I'd been thinking of reassigning him anyway.”
“I think you'd better put things back to how they were!” Anna sneers, as her eyes continue to glow. “I don't know what I'm cooking up inside, but I reckon these wings are just the appetizer. Do you really want to wait and see what kind of punch I'm packing?”
“No,” Abberoth replies, furrowing his brow, “I don't think I do. This is all getting far too bizarre, even for me.”
“Well, get used to it,” Anna says firmly, and now her eyes are crackling with energy. “I've got the power of Sparky in me, and we're a pretty good team. In fact, you might say that Sparky's my secret weapon. First I was alive, then I was a zombie, but now it's third time lucky. Actually, I was a ghost for a while too, so it's fourth time lucky. That's even better!”
With that, she screams and lunges at Abberoth, just as her eyes flare with a burst of power.
“Anna, wait!” Sam yells. “You don't know what you're -”
Before she can get another word out, Abberoth grabs Anna by the throat and lifts her up. Struggling to get free, with her huge new wings flapping wildly, Anna lets out a startled scream as Abberoth places his other hand on her shoulder. Her wings – huge and powerful though they are – flail and flap wildly behind her, slamming into the ground but failing to connect with Abberoth at all.
“Such a pity,” he sneers, leaning closer to her. “With a little time and thought, you might actually have amounted to something.”
“You're about to find out what I can amount to!” Anna gurgles. “Just wait a moment!”
Abberoth stares at her, watching as Anna continues to struggle. Although her wings are still flapping, she can make no progress in her attempt to get free of his grip.