Demon's Dream

by Laura Hawks

  Clarissa stepped through the portal into the room she rented in New Orleans. It had not changed during the months she had been absent. She wondered if the landlords had rented it out to someone else but if they did, they didn’t bother to put her own measly few items away. Maybe the note she left them was sufficient in keeping the room for her. Setting her backpack down, she exited the room and headed over to find the landlord, who just so happened to be her employer at the bar she worked in.

  As she stepped outside, prepared to cross the street to the establishment, she paused. The fire that Xon had set as a trap to get access to the stone had done some major damage and it was still closed for repairs. Her heart ached at the thought lives could’ve been lost as well, if not for Azamel’s intervention.

  He had refused bringing her with him to New Orleans when they had gotten word Xon might have been there. Mel knew it was a trap to lure her out and he wouldn’t place her wellbeing or safety in such a perilous predicament.

  As it turned out, Mel had been correct in his assumption. Xon had been waiting for the arrival of the Guardian with several minions. When Xon realized that Clarissa wasn’t going to appear, he took his frustration out on her place of employment and the friends she had managed to garner during her time with them by setting the building aflame. Mel had mentioned to her there were a few people trapped inside but he had helped to get them out safely. She was grateful no lives were lost because of her and her responsibility. She knew it would be time for her to go, but where? She couldn’t remain here and put her new friends and those who considered her part of their family in danger. Her safe spot was no longer safe and it was time to move on. However, she owed it to them to inform them of her departure.

  As she stood across the street and watched the construction and renovation work being done on the building, she realized she couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye again. She had lost so much as it was. Her family murdered in front of her. Azamel. Now the friends and family she had gotten to know while staying in New Orleans. She couldn’t do it. Her heart couldn’t bear the pain of saying farewell to those she had come to know and care for. Clarissa made a decision to leave quietly. She headed back into the apartment and gathered the rest of her belongings in another duffle bag. Scooping up the small piece of luggage and the backpack, she jotted down a note to them, the only way she could let them know she wouldn’t be returning and thank them for all they had done for her.

  Taking one last wistful look, she headed out to the alleyway and unchained her red Ducati motorcycle. As she climbed on board and started the engine, she gave the burned husk of a building a last glance before she headed down the road to the open highway. She paid no attention to the direction she was going. In truth it didn’t matter. She would ride until she found a place to settle for a short time. Somewhere along the way, she would find a location in which to hide the second piece of the Gem of Avarice which would hopefully be safer than the last. Maybe, just maybe she would also find refuge for her broken heart as well.

  Chapter Twelve

  As soon as Clarissa was free of the Nether Realm, Jes felt the vibrations from the powerful stone. It was back in the world of humans and therefore once again ready to be plundered. Although Dzihibai’Manido had not succeeded in doing his job properly, Jes would be able to rectify the situation by getting a head start in following the gem to its new location. If anything, Mani managed to throw off suspicion from Jes to himself and that would allow Jes to maneuver more easily. Jes was positive that Mani would know he would be worse off should he even open his mouth as to who instructed him for the duties he was assigned. There were many levels of hell and torture Mani would endure should he talk, levels only he as the God of Malignant Man and his brother could inflict. Jes smirked slightly. If only Mani would mess up, Jes considered as it would be enjoyable to reap torture on him.

  Jes could feel the stone being moved. The vibrations were very distinctive if one actually knew what to look for or even where to start looking. He was inherently aware the Guardian had been in New Orleans before she went to stay with Mel. It was only logical she would return there when Mel released her to the human realm. As a result, Jes had a head start on narrowing down the vibrations once they reemerged. They were soft, almost imperceptible unless one was particularly scanning for them and Jes was definitely monitoring the cosmos shifts to discern them when they appeared.

  Jes was also aware that the Guardian was moving out of the city. Since the stone only reverberated when it was exposed, he assumed she would be looking for a new location in which to hide the precious gem. He considered whether or not it would be wiser to wait until she had tried to conceal its location and go in for it with little to no resistance or to steal the powerful artifact while it was still on the move. The problem with the latter choice was the Guardian would be very aggressive in protecting it and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to have her death on his hands just to gain the power the stone provided. Although he usually didn’t let little things like the lives of minor beings bother his conscious, in this particular case it would. He had been mildly impressed with the veracity and tenaciousness of accepting the heady responsibility she was totally unprepared for. A situation he later learned Coyote placed her in by encouraging the decimation of her entire family. Jes was pleased Coyote at least had the foresight to secure her escape. Had Coyote not aided in saving her life, Jes would never have discovered the location of the object of his desire, nor would he have been able to finagle events in such a way he had the greatest chance of success in securing the powerful artifact Clarissa guarded.

  Shara entered Mel’s office. It had been over a month since Clarissa left and Mel’s disposition had become rougher during that time. His negative mood swings still caused her to cringe whenever she entered the room, never quite sure if she would leave with her head still attached to her shoulders. Today, however, she was bringing him good news. Today, maybe she would see the man she had worked eons for and appreciated the cold passiveness which made up his usual character. She stood stiffly before his desk awaiting for his acknowledgment.

  Several minutes ticked by with only the sound of breathing to disturb the lack of cacophony. Azamel sat with his hands folded across his belly, his forefingers steepled. He appeared lost in thought and Shara wondered if he was thinking of work or Clarissa. Ever since the wolf left, he had not been the same. He was angrier, gruffer, buried himself in his work and took more pleasure from it than she had ever seen from him before. Did he really miss the woman? Did he truly love her? The very notion made her heart clench tightly. She had thought him incapable of love or of caring for anything other than doing his duty.

  “Report,” Mel growled lowly.

  “Dzihibai’Manido is awaiting in chamber thirteen for your inspection.”

  “When was he brought in?”

  “Fifteen minutes ago. We made sure he was secured before informing you.”

  “Fifteen minutes! You consider fifteen minutes equal to as soon as he was brought in?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir. You usually wish for them to be secured before you are notified.”

  “When I say something, I generally fucking mean it.”

  Mel shoved himself from his chair before he swiftly moved to stand in front of his loyal companion for more centuries than he could remember.

  “Next time, follow my fucking orders to the letter or suffer the consequences of my displeasure.”

  Turning from her, he stormed out of his office. He strode angrily down the corridor, each step making him more furious than the last. He was at a level of pissed off he hated to be and yet found himself more and more of late, ever since he sent Clarissa away.

  ‘Fuck! Will she never get out of my head or this cold slab I once remember as a heart?’

  Swinging the door open forcefully, Azamel paused in the threshold for moment in an attempt to stabilize his ire enough to enter the room for a proper interrogation instead of a straight execution.

  He
would never forget being in the alternate realm of hell which could’ve easily seen Clarissa, if not himself, dead. Neither would he forgive the demon who sent Clarissa there, alone, without her powers and vulnerable to anything which might have seen fit to consider her a tempting morsel or a perfect toy to be abused and suffer the desires of whatever creature found her first. Had she not already suffered when she first arrived from the Whippers? Had she not almost perished by their hands, her skin torn to shreds from the barbs on the whips they carried? The very thought of how wretchedly injured she was when he first discovered her hidden location within the hills of the infernal region heated the blood within his veins furiously.

  Azamel stomped towards the restrained demon, held between two bailiff hunters who caught Dzihibai’Manido and brought him in. Mel paced around Mani, measuring him up while he tried to calm his own temperate emotions enough to interrogate him appropriately. The room was eerily quiet, all awaiting for the judge to say something, anything. After several tension filled minutes passed, Mel stopped in front of Mani, bringing his face close to the spirit demons.

  Mani blanched. He knew the moment he was captured by the demon chasers, he would be suffering for eternity for his crimes or possibly executed. He was also fully aware the only bargaining chip he had was the knowledge of who forced him to do the grunt, dirty work. Thing was, if he gave up Jes’Sakkid or Coyote, Mani might be made to suffer even worse by being put into a purgatory of perpetual pain. Either way, Mani knew he was fucked over royally.

  Azamel ran a hand up Mani’s chest until he reached the top of the spirit demon’s shirt then in one swift movement, tore it from the man’s body leaving Mani’s chest bare. Appraising him once more, Mel snarled.

  “You have been brought forth to stand before me for the heinous crime of causing intentional harm to the Guardian of the Gem of Avarice and sending an innocent into a hellish province to suffer and possibly die. I find you downright foul and I’m about to make sure you’re so hideous even your mother won’t recognize you when I’m done. I want to know who you’re working with but I will tell you it’s not going to matter too much, for I plan on making you suffer regardless. The saving grace of your telling me sooner instead of later will mean the difference between my administering the punishment or one of my minions.”

  Azamel was well aware of the reputation he had earned himself over the multitude of centuries which listed him as the most sadistically inclined interrogator and any captured by his bailiff hunters always prayed the judge himself wouldn’t take interest in their particular case. However, Mani wasn’t going to be so lucky as to escape the judge’s personal attention. Yep, he was definitely munificently fucked.

  Mel stepped back.

  “Make sure he is tightly secured then leave us alone.”

  The bailiff hunters swiftly complied. The strong door slammed shut upon their hastened departure.

  Mel smiled wickedly as the door closed, leaving the spirit demon and himself alone in the stone room already stained from the blood of thousands of others who occupied the room before Mani was chained there. Mel had aided in shedding some of the sanguine discolorations which marred the otherwise solid grey walls.

  “Do you know where you sent us?”

  “Us?”

  Mani suddenly started sweating as he became more nervous with the question, not at all the one he was originally expecting.

  “Yes. Us. As in the Guardian and myself.”

  Mani appeared confused over this information, unsure how to answer. “I- I-”

  If he admitted he only sent the Guardian, would he be admitting his overall guilt for everything? Did he even have a chance in, well, hell, which would allow him to avoid being made to pay the price for all that went wrong? Shit, Jes blamed him for all the failures thus far in his obtaining the stone. Why would Azamel be any different in not looking for the scrape goat to pin whatever he was talking about when Mel referred to being in the realm as well? Deciding on the better part of valor and possibly having his sentence reduced, he admitted only to his portion of events which occurred.

  “I only took the Guardian of the gem to the other realm. I did this to get her out of the way so the stone would be more easily accessible. I don’t know how you got there but it wasn’t by my hand.”

  “I found myself there because the custodian called to me. I heard her, answered the mental summons and as a result was brought to her in the realm instead of her being returned here.”

  Mel flashed in a barb whip, similar to those utilized by the Whippers when they were on the ulterior plane of existence. The evil looking leather whip with the silver, razor sharp barbs at the end was menacing at best. Mel flicked his wrist expertly, giving the weapon a few trial snaps close to Mani so he could feel the rush of air disturbed around him.

  Mani became cadaverously white as he realized the implications the judge just insinuated. If in fact Mel was in the other dimension where he sent the Guardian then the judge’s life was almost forfeited as well and Mani realized there was no way he was getting out of this punishment with any semblance of his life or body intact.

  “I know you’re not working alone. You’re obviously too stupid to have tried to pull a stunt like that without some influence. Tell me who you’re working with Mani and I’ll go somewhat easier on you in sentencing.”

  “I’m a dead man either way but at least I’ll have my honor and not be a stool pigeon.”

  Mel snapped the whip again observing Mani’s reaction or in this case, lack thereof. Mani desperately tried to put on a brave face despite he was quivering like Jell-O inside. Mel admired the spirit demon’s morality but it wouldn’t dissuade him from making the condemned demon to eminently suffer. The veritable idea this creature put the Guardian in extreme danger for her very existence boiled Mel’s blood with a fury that he himself was amazed he felt. He swore he would make the creature responsible suffer intensely.

  Without waiting any further, Mel let the whip fly, snapping in the air as its barbed tongue licked the bare flesh of Mani. As the razor sharp edges castigated the prisoner, he jolted back as much as the restraints allowed but refused to cry out. Repeatedly, Azamel let the steel tipped knout crack through the air against the infidel. Mani’s skin was slowly shredded from his body with each slash as his blood freely flowed, blending with the previous victims’ which had stained stone floor.

  Throughout the ordeal, Mani did little more than grunt, taking the punishment with quiet resignation. He realized he deserved it, not only for Azamel entering the realm and getting caught but for having to have his hand forced by Jes to send the Guardian there to begin with.

  “Did you know this was the weapon of choice used by the creatures of that alternate world? This is but a taste of what they relegated the Guardian to experience.”

  Mani’s body began to droop, held up only by the manacles attached to each pillar by his wrists. His eyes watched his sanguine liquid mingle with what was left from those who suffered between these columns before him.

  When Mani’s chest, sides and back were tattered, Mel posed the question again.

  “Who are you working with?”

  “I’m working with no one,” Mani mumbled. It was the truth. He did not work with Jes, he was the servant of Jes and by his own accord he owed his soul to the God for assisting in the protection of his mother at a time when he had no one else would listen to his pleas. For her, he was willing to pay any price. For her, he was forced to servitude by threatening an innocent woman who was thrust into a responsibility just as he was obligated to attack her. He had hoped she would have a chance to survive in the realm, despite the lack of powers he removed from her when he brought her there. He refused to kill her outright and yet, he had to repay the debt to Jes. As a result, he was willing to suffer the consequences for putting the custodian’s life in jeopardy.

  Azamel wasn’t a newborn demon and immediately knew Mani was hiding something. As a result, he rephrased the question, “Who are you working
for?”

  Mani’s head jerked up at the query. He then gave his head a weary shake and looked back to the floor which had been his visage for the past couple of torturous hours.

  Mel realized the demon had more integrity than he had originally given him credit for. With less passion than before, Mel continued to expend his version of persuasive interrogation. Hours of repetitive questioning with instrumental flesh removal from Mani still resulted in no attainment of vocalization with regards to the needed information Mel sought. Azamel switched the barbed whip to various other forms of weaponry, each one worse than the previous. Each designed to give the utmost pain to the prisoner. Despite it all, Mani remained willfully reticent, yet Mel did not relent. The demon judge would discover who was behind the attacks on Clarissa and maybe in the process prevent the current stream of demons who hunted the young wolf for the treasure which she protected.

  Azamel was getting tired of asking and his inner demon was getting more corybantic with the passing hours and zero results. Something had to give. Mel had never been this unsuccessful for this long with his interrogation techniques. He was flabbergasted that Mani had managed to hold out as long as he had and not reveal anything, much less barely make a sound. Lesser demons would be weeping, pleading, begging for mercy, for death, giving up everything they could possibly think of, including their mother, in hopes of some relief from the punishment they were being inflicted with. However, Mani took each and every blow, cut, stab and torment Mel threw at him with nary a sound. Where others screamed, Mani gasped. Where others cried, he moaned. Where others bellowed at the top of their lungs, he wheezed pantingly.

  Azamel gained an unprecedented, unheard of respect for the spirit demon. However, he needed to know who was after the stone and nothing would stop him from learning the truth. Nevertheless, it was quite obvious these tactics were not the correct inducements required to get Mani to relinquish the names of whomever he was protecting. As much as he detested the idea, Mel needed a psychological torture which would hopefully do the trick where the physical excruciation was ineffective.