The room was empty, except for a tall accent table in the corner; he couldn't see what was on top of it, if anything. Sprawled out on a dark wood floor, he saw the walls were covered with posh wallpaper reserved for the most pretentious of homes.
“Tsk, tsk DJ, shining some light on the matter. We’re at your base,” Gage guessed as the outside light was closed off, replaced by the orange of the Crown of Immortality’s flames.
Dajjal’s red eyes shone beneath it, thin as razors.
“Good guess,” the demon replied offhand. Stepping across the hardwoods, his dust covered boots barely made a sound.
Soon he was just ahead of Gage, staring down at the human who had been the source of all his misery. It was a pitiful sight, the beaten sack of meat still wearing the treasures Dajjal desired. Perhaps it was an effect of the Crown, but Gage didn't seem to be as much of a threat anymore. He looked so weak Dajjal even allowed him to keep his pathetic excuse for a weapon – that machete – at his side. The wretched fool probably couldn't wield it if he tried.
“Look at the mighty Gage Crosse,” Dajjal spoke remorselessly, “reduced to a pathetic, whimpering heap at my feet. I will only ask this once, out of respect. Give me what is rightfully mine, now!”
Gage peeked up and laughed.
“That shit ain't yours, my man. Go. To. Hell.”
Dajjal snapped his eyes shut and the there was a plume of fire and light from his halo. He kicked Gage, rubber meeting the front of his face with a low thump. Blood gushed from his nose – surely broken – and he spit at Dajjal, smiling through blood stained teeth.
“I told ya DJ, it's a no go.”
Dajjal grimaced.
“Then the solution to this conundrum is quite clear, Gage. The obstacle to my success must be… obliterated.”
A smile formed on Gage’s swelling lips.
“Good luck with that.”
Dajjal turned toward the table, whistling Winds of Change. There, a jeweled sword hilt was waiting, glinting by the light of his flames. He grabbed it, spinning back toward Gage.
“Get up,” he commanded.
Gage, defiant, didn't move or say a word.
“I… said… GET THE FUCK UP!” Dajjal yelled, slamming his fist against the table. A metal blade appeared, lancing out from the hilt.
Gage reached for his machete, a distant voice calling to him.
Remember, in order to see it through…
Dajjal stepped forward, an evil grin spreading across his face.
It must first end…
Gage lashed out, the machete held firm in his grip. The metal swiped across Dajjal’s shins, but only just. The lacerations began to bleed, but as quickly as it started the blood was drawn back inside.
“My turn,” Dajjal replied with delight and the blade became a flash of silver.
Gage raised his weapon in defense, but it was to no avail. The sword sliced him just past the elbow and everything above it, including the machete, went spinning off into the darkness. Gage collapsed, his scream beyond intense.
So great did it sound that Dajjal became erect, pushing against his pants in a tight protest for more. Walking over to Gage's severed arm, still holding the weapon, the demon kneeled and slipped off Manus Fortuna from his finger, placing it on his own. There was a rush of ecstasy and he knew that he was close… so close.
“That one was causing me the most problems,” Dajjal said, walking back to the table. There he set down the sword, the blade retracting back into the hilt, and looked to the blubbering man on his floor. “I learned from that little rescue of your runt that I shouldn't take any chances.”
As Gage lay there, moaning in agony, Dajjal jutted a hand toward him. Like a rag puppet pulled by strings he was flung up on his feet, held there against his will. The severed stump that was his right arm bled profusely, adding to a dark crimson lake spreading out at his feet.
“Oh, apologies for my lack of manners,” Dajjal said in a sickeningly patronizing tone. “I seem to have trouble considering others and their feelings. Here, let me cauterize that wound for you.”
Like great serpents, hellfire writhed out from Dajjal and scalded what was left of Gage’s arm. Things grew black and the smell of burning skin filled the room along with foul smoke. Dajjal laughed, delighted with the screams as Gage collapsed on his back in a smoldering heap, not only his arm burned, but half his face too.
“Boo-ho, I'm not handsome anymore…” Dajjal mocked. “Shut up, at least you aren't bleeding anymore. Now, what was I doing? Oh yes!”
Dajjal returned to the table and plucked off a cigar cutter, the very same one from his meeting with the Snake Eyes in Tennessee. In a single, tortuous move he strode toward Gage, grabbing his left hand while slipping the cutter over his ring finger. The Seal of Solomon sizzled like grease at Dajjal’s touch.
“Wait… what are ya…”
CRACK!
“Arrrrrggghhhh!”
The Demon’s Bane fell into Dajjal’s waiting palm, along with a bit of Gage that he casually tossed away.
Gage was in so much pain. Everything was a blur, and he couldn't manage another scream through all the frothy wheezes and gritted teeth.
“God damn ya, fucker!”
“Gage… please, you know that God has already damned me. At least you still have the rest of your appendages, but alas, as much fun as this has been, the time for us to part ways has come.” Dajjal slid the Seal of Solomon over his other ring finger; the feeling that rushed over him was like multiple orgasms sparking at once.
Gage looked up his back with tears streaming down his face, mixing with blood. All he could see was Adrienne’s face amongst the haze. Dajjal straddled him, falling to his knees and his demonic eyes burned her gorgeous visage away.
“It seems all that's left on you is the Ire and its Shackles,” Dajjal muttered, his stare intense yet devoid of any emotion.
“I love ya baby,” Gage sputtered in defiance as Dajjal's fist came down, pummeling the amulet right into the big man’s chest. His skin split, bones cracked, and in an eruption of crimson mist and heat, he knew right away that he was a goner.
Dajjal watched his nemesis slip into a stupor with a gaze that was a thousand miles long. Fingers slick with hot gore, the demon snapped his fingers inside Gage’s torn chest and with an ear-splitting squelch, everything burst into chunks of red and black before falling into an shocking silence.
Feeling through the mush spread across the floor, Dajjal took hold of something cold and metallic. He withdrew and there was a glimmer of silver amongst the maroon. Dajjal finally had the amulet and chain, raising them high in triumph. They seemed to be speaking to him in a whisper, though far too distant for him to understand. Slipping them casually over his head, his knees buckled, eyes rolling back into his head. He had lost control, climaxing heavily beneath his torn jeans.
As he regained composure a few moments later, wetness still liberally flowing down his leg, he shook his head and looked back at what was left of Gage. He had been reduced to nothing more than his basic elements – a filthy, stinking pile of flesh and bone.
“Five down, one more go,” Dajjal said, standing up then gazing skyward. “Grim Reaper, it seems you have the last thing I seek. Like I told you: be ready, for I am coming for you… and your scythe.”
The entrance to the room sprang back open and Dajjal swaggered out confidently. As the door closed again, the last light from outside shone on the machete and Gage’s hand, with fingers still twitching, beneath it.
THE END
Homeward Bound (Journeyman Series One)
Seal of Solomon (Journeyman Series Two)
Made to Suffer (Journeyman Series Three)
The Devil’s Highway (Journeyman Series Four)
Running on Empty (Journeyman Series Six)
STANDALONE SPIN-OFFS COMING IN 2017:
Stories of the Order – Shadowmen
Stories of the Order – No Strings Attached
Gage Crosse
Adrienne Elkins
Joey Mosely
Marcus Sheridan
Henry Abington
Councilor Jane Carter
Councilor Timothy Randall
Councilor Allete Popov
Dax “Hammer” Wallace
Brandon Byrne (Burn)
Nathaniel Cole
Gabriel Shepard
Sean Dean
Dajjal (Da-jal)
Om Cita (Ohm See-ta)
Councilor Drogir (Dro-gear)
Councilor Tyrol (Tie-roll)
Councilor Quileth (Quill-eth)
Councilor David Evans
Hell Knight Botis (Bow-tis)
Kahli (Ka-li)
Gabriel
Michael
Uriel (Your-i-el)
Azrael (Az-Ra-el)
Samael (Sam-a-el)
Then Hell Followed (Journeyman Book 5) Page 21