by David Gallie
‘We both know there is no way you're leaving my hall alive.’ He roared and the eternal rage that dwelled within him came rushing back with a vengeance.
As Hermetia began to push himself up and off his throne I decided that it was now or never. I mustered every ounce of energy I had and threw the machete at the rising demon lord.
For what seemed like an eternity the blade spun through the air before it sliced through the soft, greasy skin of Hermetia’s throat. I could see his eyes shoot open with surprise as the blade dropped to the floor, leaving behind it a wide gash which stretched halfway across his throat.
Blood began to pour from the wound almost immediately. As he clutched at his throat, gooey black blood oozing between his fingers, I burst into a sprint towards the scroll. I could see him turning, watching, as I grabbed hold of the ornate gold case, emblazed with mystical symbols I would never understand.
The air, once filled with the demon lords booming voice, was now enriched with the sounds of him choking on his own blood. In the back of my mind, I was surprised I had been able to cause so much damage with such a small object, but I had no time to ponder on my own magnificence.
I had the scroll firmly gripped in my hand, but I could see no way out. Going back the way I came was not an option since there was no access to the monastery that way, and by now there was probably a horde of Grimoyle’s waiting to tear me apart.
There is a secret passageway which will lead you to the monestry from Hermetia’s chambers. The Monk had said, but I could see no other doorways or trap doors or even a bookcase that may have hidden a secret passage.
That was until Hermetia tried to take a rather half-hearted swing at me. I felt the whoosh of air above me as his meaty fist sailed past me and slammed into his throne of bones. There was a deafening rumble as the throne took the full force of his anger. Slowly it rocked on one side before crashing to the floor with a massive bang that almost knocked me off my feet.
It was then that I saw what I had been looking for. A small wooden trap door had been placed countless centuries ago under the demons throne. I ran towards it, clutching the scroll in one hand and trying to watch Hermetia’s movements as I went.
The huge demon stumbled backwards as the blood kept coming from a wound that didn’t seem to heal. I pulled open the trap door and was about to jump into the passage beyond it when I looked up one last time.
Hermetia had managed to gain his balance, but only for a brief few seconds. His once rage filled eyes looked lazy and tired like he was about to fall asleep. He teetered there for only a few seconds before he finally lost his balance for good and fell backwards out into the great hall and straight into the flaming pit known as Argol’s fire.
I was mesmerized as the flames quickly turned dark green, just like its victim's skin. My trance was quickly broken though when I could hear the sound of screeching Grimoyle’s descending upon the hall. It wouldn’t take long before they were in the room so I needed to get moving.
Giving the bright green fire one last glance, I jumped into the secret passageway.
I fell only a few feet into the secret passageway before I landed on the solid ground with a thud. The scroll emanated a strange glow which I was actually grateful for since there were no torches to light my way.
Dusting myself off, I continued north along the passage, unsure of what to expect or what to look out for.
This better not be a setup! I thought to myself as I plunged into the darkness.
I must have walked for about five minutes before the passage came to an abrupt end. Using the scroll like a torch I held it up towards the ceiling. Relief washed over me when I spotted the outline of another trap door.
Unsure of what to expect, I reached up and pulled on the iron ring. After a couple of tugs, the heavy wooden door swung downwards and slammed against the wall. Glancing up through the opening it left behind I could see a cathedral-like interior brightly lit with torches.
Tucking the scroll between the waistbands of my jeans, I reached up and grabbed hold of what felt like a cold, concrete floor. I was about to try and climb up when another pair of hands gloved in black leather, wrapped around both of my wrists and suddenly I was being pulled up and into the monastery.
The monk took a step back as he let go of my wrists. We stood between two massive pillars while other monks sat on the pews silently praying to their dark master.
Feeling a little breathless I pulled the scroll out from my waistband and handed it over to the monk. He looked hesitant as he reached out and took the sacred parchment from my grasp.
‘Thank you, Samuel. Both I and my brothers are eternally grateful for what you have done for us. Returning the scroll will help keep the balance within the realms.’ There seemed to be a hint of sadness in the monks’ voice, almost as if he didn’t want me to give him the scroll back.
‘I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing more of you as time goes on.’ I said, not fully understanding why I got that sensation. ‘So you might as well tell me your name.’
There was a moment of silence like he had to try and remember what his name was.
‘Pertilius.’ He said eventually, and as he did so he produced something in his free hand.
I watched as he opened his palm to reveal a small piece of gold which had been shaped to look like several flames bunched together.
‘What’s this?’ I asked, a little uncertain that I would want to know the answer.
‘This is what the thief stole from the church. It is the soul of Beelzebub. The first true ruler of Hell and the creator of all things dark. Please take it.’ He said, pushing his open palm forward.
I was hesitant to deal with another mystical artefact, especially considering it was me who had butchered the thief to get it back. However as Pertilius pushed it towards me my right hand started to tingle and I noticed that the gold band on my finger was glowing brightly.
That glow turned to a bright light as I reached out to take the ornate piece of gold and as soon as my fingers encased it I felt a sudden surge of energy unlike any I had ever felt before.
I quickly uncurled my fingers to see the gold piece was bubbling and melting into my skin. Seconds later I could see gold rushing through my raised veins. My head felt like a ball of fire as I dropped to my knees and I could feel something strange happening to my skin.
When I looked at my wrists I could see those same strange symbols on Pertilius’s robe engrave themselves in gold around my wrists, and I could feel the same thing happening to my forehead.
With his free hand, the big monk helped me back up to my feet. The ball of fire in my head was slowly easing off to a gentle flame and with a shaking hand, I traced the strange symbols which had now been permanently etched into my forehead.
‘What the Hell just happened to me?’ I asked, feeling shaky. My vision was a little blurred but I could see that the monks out in the pews remained unmoved by me.
‘You are now protected by the soul of Beelzebub. Your soul can longer be used as a prize by any demon including our lord.’ Pertilius remained in the same spot, the faceless darkness of his hood was the closest I was going to get to looking him in the eyes.
‘You mean the deal is now worthless?’ I probably sounded a lot more hopeful than I should have.
‘The deal is still unbroken for now, but with your soul now protected by our original creator our dark lord can no longer create a link with you. In essence, it makes you invisible to him when you decide that you need some time alone.’
‘Well, that could come in very handy.’ I said, looking at the ancient and foreign symbols on my wrist. ‘Is it an automatic thing or do I have to utter some secret incantation?’
‘All you have to do is trace infinity on your right wrist and you will become invisible to him and any other demon. And of course, you should trace it again to release the magic.’
I looked down at my right wrist, a little puzzled at first and then I saw it. Dead centre in the middle of my w
rist was the number eight. The sign of infinity. I had to fight the temptation to trace my index finger around the shape.
‘I understand that it may not be what you were hoping for.’ Said the big monk, and I could definitely hear a note of sadness in his voice now. ‘But there are many artefacts just like that one, which when combined can give you the power you need to break your deal with Satan.’
It didn’t really take a genius to figure out what the monk was aiming at. I already understood that the only way I was ever going to break my deal with his royal darkness was to go head to head with him. And you know what, I was starting to warm to the idea of the day when that might come.
‘Thank you Pertilius. I know you don’t have to help me at all.’ I said, still in awe at my new golden tattoos.
‘Well, I did say I wouldn’t forget your kindness.’
I looked up just in time to see Pertilius peel back the hood on his robe. I could feel my jaw slacken as the face that was revealed belonged to the young man I had set free from the demon lord Hermetia’s kitchen.
‘You! But how? Why?’ I was flabbergasted and unsure what to make of it all.
‘I wanted to make sure you would actually find your way into the great hall and the only way to do that was allow myself to be taken as a lost soul.’
‘But what if I had left you there?’
‘We are practitioners of black magic. There are no objects or demons which can keep us bound.’ A wry smile crossed his thin lips. ‘It’s time for you to go back to the Earthly plane, Samuel. I sense our lord will be looking for you soon.’
‘Great. That’s just spoiled my day.’ I said trying to be jovial but I couldn’t hide just how depressing my life had become since I made that damn deal.
‘When you find the time, I would suggest that you pay a visit to St Helen’s Elementary school and kindergarten. You may find something there that can illuminate your path.’
I looked at Pertilius, even more, puzzled than before, and I was about to ask him what he was talking about when he suddenly shoved me backward. I tried to steady myself but it was no good, I was falling straight back into the passageway.
The light of the world vanished quickly as I fell. Air rushed around me at an alarming speed and I had no option but to brace myself for a hard landing.
The hard landing never came. Instead, I landed on something soft, and as I scrambled to my feet I realized that I had landed on my own bed.
I was back in my own apartment. Back in my own bedroom which was still in the soft darkness I had become accustomed to. Sitting on the edge of the bed I tried to get myself together. My thoughts seemed broken and scattered, yet there was one thing I remembered very clearly:
The name of the elementary school Pertilius had mentioned. It had sounded so familiar and now that I was back in my own world I understood why. It was the same school where Lisa had once been a teacher before she had been cruelly snatched away from me.
During the time after making my deal with Satan, I had never thought to actually look into my wife’s life on this plane. Instead of choosing to try and figure out why she was in Hell.
I looked at the magic symbols tattooed on my wrists. Now was the time to find out the truth about Lisa and find a way to not only free her from Hell but also to break Satan’s hold over both of us.
PART 3:
SINNERS HEART
Beads of sweat dripped into my eyes, almost blinding me, as I sprinted towards the abandoned abattoir. Ahead I could see my newest target, an overweight street hustler who goes by the name of Slick, crash through the main door of the gothic building.
I was surprised at how fast the fat bastard could move and even more surprised at how just unfit I had become over the years. Wiping a thick layer of sweat from my forehead, I slowed my pace down to a fast walk as I entered the building through the same door as my target.
Slick knew he was fighting for his life now. This wasn’t going to be a simple beat down like he was used to from the cops or his fellow street urchins. He knew I was out to take his life and I knew he would do whatever it took to stay alive. Caution was the key word when you had to chase after your prey.
The doorway opened into what looked like a small office. There was a couple of overturned desks, a smashed computer and plenty of obscene graffiti on the once white walls.
I figure it had probably been the manager’s office at some point in its history, or possibly even a reception area for the drivers bringing in the livestock.
In the near distance, I could hear the crash of metal against metal and quickly moved in that direction. This time, I choose stealth over speed. He was still in the building and thanks to only a few shafts of pale moonlight shining in through the shattered windows, he was just as blind as I was.
I felt confident that he wasn’t going to be leaving the building by own his accord this time. I moved to the doorway near the far end of the room, its door propped up against the wall, long removed from its hinges.
Beyond the office lay the main killing floor. The area of the building where the animals would be brought through and slaughtered one by one, each receiving a single bolt to the head. Not exactly the best way for an animal to die but probably about the kindest a cruel race like us could think up.
‘It’s over Slick!’ I shouted out into the vast room. I wasn’t expecting an answer, but if he was stupid enough to reply to me then it would help me pinpoint his location more accurately.
‘Fuck you!’ Came a rattled, wheezing voice. For a career con-artist, I was surprised at just how stupid he was being. But then again all intelligence goes out the window when you have the hitman from hell chasing you.
‘No thanks.’ I shouted back. On the floor just beyond the doorway, I could see the shape of a meat hook and moved to pick it up. ‘I know plenty of women willing to do that for me.’ I wanted to try and keep him talking as I moved quietly in his direction.
‘What do you want from me!?’ He cried out and for a moment, he actually sounded like he genuinely didn’t know.
The meat hook felt heavier than I had imagined it would be as I slapped its hooked blade into my open palm. Edging along the ceramic tiled wall, and heading towards the far right of the building I decided to elaborate on my predicament.
‘You have in your possession a very valuable Gold chain that was stolen from my boss some time ago. He knows you still have it and I will get it back one way or another.’ I kept my voice loud enough so that he could hear me but also soft enough to try and reduce the threat level.
If he had any instinct for self-preservation his next tactic would be try and bargain with me. It was a classic scenario that I had dealt with countless times before.
‘I don’t have your stupid necklace. I pawned it a few days ago at Harry’s Pawn Shop on Tenth Street.’ He was starting to calm down a little as he began to think that he might have a chance of walking away from this situation unharmed.
If only you knew the truth you fat fucker. I thought to myself as I continued through the darkness, following the sound of his voice as it led me closer to another room where the animals would be cut up for their meat.
‘Are you absolutely sure about that?’ I asked, reaching the wide doorway which led to the gutting room as I called it. The roof at that end of the building had been badly damaged by the various storms that came and went through the years which was good for me since the huge gaping hole allowed moonlight to flood inside and give me a much better vision.
‘Of course, I am. I’m only interesting in making a few bucks to feed my family. If I had known it was going to cause this much problem I would never have taken it off him.’ He was on the verge of tears now, which was exactly what I wanted.
But I found myself faltering as he spoke.
‘Who did you take it off?’ I asked, becoming more curious as to what kind of story he was going to make up to cover his sorry ass.
‘I don’t know, some big guy dressed like a monk. But he was creepy as all h
ell. Hardly spoke a word to me. He just pushed the necklace at me and I gave him a couple of bucks for it.’
Now I was truly curious. My mind flashed back to my meeting with Pertilius in the apartment of the thief who had stolen Beelzebub’s soul. Surely he wouldn’t be up here on the Earthly plane, trading ancient relics that were obviously very important to his master, my boss, just to make a few bucks?
‘His robe. Was it black?’ I asked, just a few feet away from the opening to the next room.
There was a moment of silence as Slick thought about my question. Con artists usually had very good memories but old Slick wasn’t up there with the crème of the crop. In fact, he spent more time in jail than he did out conning people of their hard earned money.
‘Yeah.’ He shouted eventually. ‘It had strange symbols on the cuffs and the hood. I don’t know, like magic symbols I guess. I thought he was just another whack job looking to score a few bucks so I played along.’
As far as I remembered seeing, Pertilius was the only brother in his order with those symbols on his robe. But it made no sense for him to be here trading in ancient artefacts if indeed that was what the necklace really was.
Those lovely folk down in hell weren’t exactly well known for their honesty and it was certainly possible that this could be some sort of ruse. A means to get me to do more of the brothers dirty work, while I was also working for their master or our master as it was for the time being.
I had thought it strange that Satan himself would waste my time and energy on such frivolous items. After all, he has gone countless centuries without caring about them, so why should he suddenly be interested in them now?
As various thoughts floated around in my head I noticed I had neared the doorway and when I looked down at the concrete floor I could see a shadow being cast from the other side of the doorway.